The Mule

This week I'm running a Birth Special. On Monday Michelle told her moving tale of achieving the VBAC of her dreams, and yesterday, Anna shared a wonderful story with a truly unexpected twist about her experience of adoption. Today’s guest post comes from Doula Maddie McMahon. She writes with passion of the wonderful power of mothers and motherhood, and calls for a better world for those who bear and raise children. Maddie writes posts about birth and motherhood at www.maddiemcmahon.com , and offers Doula services and training in Cambridge UK . You can also follow her on facebook . Mothers Matter… Mothers nurture a growing child in their wombs, fiercely protecting that future human despite having perhaps been rejected by the child’s father, despite rape, poverty, despite extreme emotional and physical suffering. Mothers give birth. Some hunker down and roar their babies out; lioness mamas ecstatic with earth-shattering power. Some dream their babies into the worl...

This story has been sent to me by a U.S based signatory of my petition to Amazon . It is so powerful, moving and eloquent, I feel it needs barely any introduction, except to say that it is written by a mother who, like all of us, has made mistakes, mistakes which she cannot now contemplate without feeling a painful amount of shame and regret. She could have chosen never to speak of these feelings, or to tell this story, but instead she shares it with us in the hopes of helping to bring about positive change.  I find this choice immensely brave, and hope that you as readers can extend to her the warmth and support that she surely deserves.  In January 2008 a friend of mine asked me a question about something she thought was not right which she figured I would know about. As I began to answer her, it led me to answers I had never considered before and ended up thrusting my family into a year of "transition" and really changing the future of my family tree. What did she ...

Men's Pooing Time is Sacred, A Hole-y Mystery, It all takes place behind closed doors, Where no one else can see. They set off with their paper, Or book, or magazine, And then for twenty minutes, They're nowhere to be seen. I don't know what they do in there, Or why it takes so long, But certainly there seems to be An injustice, and a wrong. For though there's great variety, In the work us mothers do, One thing is universal - We don't get time to poo. We wash, we wipe, we feed, we love, We pick up toys, we cuddle, And somehow our most basic needs Get lost amidst the juggle. We sometimes make a dash for it, If we feel in desperate need, But with children hanging off each leg There's not much time to read. Our menfolk have maintained their right To defecate alone, Now we need a Revolution For a Small Room of our Own. We've campaigned for equality At work and in our pay So now let's fight for Twenty Minutes Pooing Time ...