A repost from my response to an article on Babble.com

See the original article here.

This is becoming a big issue right now, because the American Medical Association is considering a resolution that proposes individual state legislation to prevent home birth. This is driving me mad with anger. I consider their actions an affront to my personal privacy and my rights as both a woman and a citizen of the world. What if I told all the AMA members that they can only have bowel movements on Sunday and only when supervised by someone adequately trained to assist them? Sometimes I get so fed up that I have to say something. After I read the article, I had to post a comment. I'm thinking of sending a modified version of this to the editors of some newspapers, and perhaps the American Medical Association, and a few other "health professional organizations." Perhaps the poop reference should be avoided, so here is my more official sounding write-up. I'll be looking for links to the referenced statistics. I'll provide them to you as I find them.

There are plenty of good studies to show that planned home birth for low-risk mothers is as safe as or safer than giving birth in the hospital. Check the British Medical Journal for one of the best studies. I believe it was 2005. Most of the women in the world give birth outside of the hospital. The countries with the best maternal and infant mortality rates utilize midwives more and often have a larger percentage of their babies born at home.

Somehow, the human race survived prior to the advent of maternity wards.

Sometimes bad things happen. Simply spending millions of dollars, and giving birth in a hospital doesn't prevent bad things from happening. The United States spends more money on health care than any other country in the world, but our maternal and infant mortality statistics are near the bottom of the list of industrialized nations. In fact, the number of women in the US who die as a result of pregnancy or childbirth is rising. So clearly, hospitals and money alone are not the answer.Instead of crying wolf over the five percent of women in this country who have their babies at home, perhaps our energy would be better spent lowering the c-section rate, improving infant and maternal mortality rates, discovering the reason for and rectifying racial disparities in these rates, and giving women both the right to choose where to birth and dignity and respect during the process.

Rock on Madeline!

The government is working!

So, Mom got her passport in ten days.

Jewel's social security number arrived today. Exactly one week after I applied for it. Now we can file our taxes (I know that few people look forward to that, but it will be a load off, and hopefully a return - oh and an economic stimulus check would come in handy,too.)

You just wouldn't believe how excited I am. I have spent HOURS working on this and her birth certificate. I feel like I finally achieved something.

On Father's day we decided that the whole famn damily is going on a cruise in July. Really, I'm so excited - mostly that we are ALL going (Eric's parents and my Mom), but also that someone else is going to cook and clean for me for 7 days, AND I will get to go new places and see new things. I feel so lucky that I have married into a family that I enjoy spending time with and being a part of. I feel even luckier that they have not only accepted me as one of their own, but my crazy and complicated family, too.

Here are a couple of Father's day photos for ya:

That last one is from a series that I started when Liam was four months old, for Eric's first Father's Day. There is a picture each year with a letter, that all go into a five-photo frame to collectively spell DADDY. If I had the other photos on the computer I'd post them. The changes over the last three years are unbelievable. Of course, this was the first year with TWO children in the picture. And let me tell you, getting two to hold the letter right way, look at the camera with their eyes open and look like they were perhaps enjoying the moment, was no small feat.

Hope this finds you all well. Jenny

When I'm feeling blue

All I have to do

Is check out the interspecies snorgeling link on http://www.cuteoverload.com/

If one of the posts there doesn't make you smile then the Underlord of Darkness must have stolen your soul and replaced it with quickcrete.

Be sure to check out the wallaby and the sloth.

What I have in common with Julia Childs

"I was thirty-two when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate."
— Julia Child

So, in the interest of family health, I am endeavoring to learn to cook. So far, I've made a few different dishes, all of which people were willing to eat, and occasionally more than one serving. I've done a few things for the first time recently: chopped a red bell pepper, used cumin (does anyone know what that is?), been excited about buying measuring cups, eaten something I knew had red bell peppers in it, longed for new measuring spoons (fancy ones I saw with pretty flowers on them), just poured directly into a pan without measuring, and liked the taste of food that I knew had carrots and red bell peppers in it.

These achievements may sound like small potatoes to some of you, but you must realize this is written by a woman who didn't try pepper or mustard (let alone spicy mustard) until she was in her mid-twenties. I was essentially raised by two women with stomach ulcers. The only seasonings I grew up with were salt, and parsley. Speaking of parsley, I've never figured out what it adds to a dish other than little green flecks.

So you can see that I am a true beginner at this. Prior to the culinary adventures of late, I could only claim to be a moderately good grilled cheese sandwich chef, with occasional successful ventures in baking. To everyone else this may all seem elementary, and perhaps you are thinking that I have taken on this responsibility a bit late in life. Perhaps you are right. None the less, I have.

Once, I hated cooking. It seemed only like a necessity, the same way that peeing and breathing are required for existence. Perhaps there were some meals better than others (especially if someone else was cooking), but really it was just about sustenance. Now, I have taken on a new attitude. Cooking is becoming an act of love. A minor holy event. A time that I can ease health and the spirit of caring into the bodies of those who mean the most to me, rather than forcing convenient toxins down in haste. It is a strange and new meditation for me. A wonderful new lesson in the many ways of loving.

I think I can quit one of my part time jobs

Two things that the state seems to have a hard time reconciling:



And



Finally, after taking on the task as if it were a part time job, and when Julianna was six months and one day, we got her birth certificate. I had two or three people at the state department of vital records and two or three people at my local office working on this one project. Despite the fact that it took six months to coordinate everyone's efforts, we all worked together and on Monday we were issued, not one but two official copies of her birth certificate at no charge! It was refreshing to receive true service at a government office (more than one, actually).