Bringing new life into the world is no easy task. It begin with a woman experiencing months of endless hormonal changes, physical changes, and preparation for a complete lifestyle change. For many women, these changes are a surprise- regardless of the number of "What to Expect" books that she may read.
Without considering the vast changes a woman's internal system undergoes simply to prepare for the process of child birth, it is hard to understand the affect those changes may have on that woman postpartum. Postpartum depression affects 9-16% of new mothers. Though, the depression does not only affect that woman- it affects her entire family, especially her new baby. Without adequate emotional, language, and tactile stimulation, a child runs a very high at having developmental delays.
Working in a group care setting, I often come across mothers that seem as though they need a hand, or sometimes a break. I often wonder if this is simply a piece of their personality, or if it is a result of a metabolic imbalance accused by the changes from pregnancy.
Women in the Hmong culture follow several rituals postpartum in order to protect the mother's spiritual and emotional stability, resulting in a more prosperous future. One of these rituals includes hosting a major naming ceremony, 3 days after brith,within the family's community. By doing so, the child's spirit becomes real, and their journey as a human begins. This ceremony allows for a sense of relief in the fact that their child is not a person. Though postpartum depression is prevalent in countries such as Laos and Vietnam, new mothers follow cultural guidelines that have the ability to reduce their risk of weak mental health in early motherhood.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Saturday, January 11, 2014
The moment it all begins...
As one of eleven cousins, and only early educator in the bunch, I found great excitement in the birth of my eldest cousin's son, Baby Guy. Guy was born about a year and a half ago; the first great-grandchild on my mother's side of the family. Guy wasn't planned, but boy, are we thankful he is with us.
When my cousin got pregnant, the family expressed two major emotions: surprise and joy. A new baby? OH! A new baby!!! I wanted so badly to be a part of it, but knew that I would most likely live through experience via my cousin's younger sister. You see, my eldest cousin, the mother of Baby Guy has lived in and around San Francisco for the past seven or so years. She's about seven years older than me, and unfortunately has always been too old or too far for us to become close. Though, I decided that as a recent college graduate, and technically an adult, I could take this beautiful opportunity to try and build a relationship with her. After all, I had plans to move out West to California the summer after she was due to give birth.
Throughout her pregnancy, I spoke with my cousin several times. I wanted the opportunity to put my knowledge of pre-and-perinatal development to good use, but I was also curious to learn of her own personal plans for the birthing process. A few years prior, my cousin served as a doula for her closest friend. As a believer in holistic approaches to child birth, I had admired my cousin's experiences in supporting someone dear to her. When talking about her plan, though, I learned that a birth doula was not a key member in the process. Instead, she would be utilizing modern medicine alone to aid her. For a woman who believes in the combination of physiological and emotional support during the birthing process, I was a bit disappointed to her hear this was her plan. Yet, it didn't surprise me... For many women, it is much easier to support someone else in their experiences, rather than to follow the same, sometimes scary, path. This seemed to be the case for my cousin. She admired the strength and spirituality of her friend, yet didn't feel that same strength. Through every conversation I had with her, I wanted so badly to advise her to try a different route; follow the path she once supported with another expecting mother. Yet, I didn't have that bond with her to share my ideas. It wouldn't have resonated as soundly as if I had suggested it to her sister, or a friend. Looking back on the process, I wish that I could have been closer (emotionally and physically) to provide my cousin with the strength she herself had shared once before. I trust the power of emotional support, and I trust my ability to provide that support. I know now that the next person that I hold close to my heart, be it friend or family, I will share my strength of knowledge and support them in their journey towards motherhood.
When thinking about my cousin's experience, and apprehension to follow a non-western approach to her birthing process, it makes me wonder if the U.S. medical world truly has the best quality system of birthing available to families. Having previously learned of various international approaches, I tend to think that the U.S. has quite a bit to learn. For example, in the U.K. several hospitals host birthing wards that not only support, but encourage natural births. Of course, they also offer the ever-so-popular epidural, which provides pain relieve to the mother through an injection into the spinal cord. Yet, the availability to host AND support the alternative, natural process is equally as present. In these natural sections of the birthing ward, midwives are not only available, but many are often present. The concept is simple: mother's have a choice of how they give birth, yet they are in a setting that they will be supported, regardless of the outcome: challenges or not. Maybe this lack of immediate choice is what made my cousin so nervous. That option of natural birthing process, using birthing tubs and midwives, isn't the most preferred method in the U.S., so most hospitals are not fully stocked with the appropriate equipment to guide the mother through the process. If the hospital you are attending does not have the options that you want, that leads you to believe that they are not prepared. That is absolutely a scary thought. What mother wants to bring her child into the world with the possibility that the professionals guiding you through the process don't understand and can't support the process that you prefer? I know I sure wouldn't.
Throughout her pregnancy, I spoke with my cousin several times. I wanted the opportunity to put my knowledge of pre-and-perinatal development to good use, but I was also curious to learn of her own personal plans for the birthing process. A few years prior, my cousin served as a doula for her closest friend. As a believer in holistic approaches to child birth, I had admired my cousin's experiences in supporting someone dear to her. When talking about her plan, though, I learned that a birth doula was not a key member in the process. Instead, she would be utilizing modern medicine alone to aid her. For a woman who believes in the combination of physiological and emotional support during the birthing process, I was a bit disappointed to her hear this was her plan. Yet, it didn't surprise me... For many women, it is much easier to support someone else in their experiences, rather than to follow the same, sometimes scary, path. This seemed to be the case for my cousin. She admired the strength and spirituality of her friend, yet didn't feel that same strength. Through every conversation I had with her, I wanted so badly to advise her to try a different route; follow the path she once supported with another expecting mother. Yet, I didn't have that bond with her to share my ideas. It wouldn't have resonated as soundly as if I had suggested it to her sister, or a friend. Looking back on the process, I wish that I could have been closer (emotionally and physically) to provide my cousin with the strength she herself had shared once before. I trust the power of emotional support, and I trust my ability to provide that support. I know now that the next person that I hold close to my heart, be it friend or family, I will share my strength of knowledge and support them in their journey towards motherhood.
When thinking about my cousin's experience, and apprehension to follow a non-western approach to her birthing process, it makes me wonder if the U.S. medical world truly has the best quality system of birthing available to families. Having previously learned of various international approaches, I tend to think that the U.S. has quite a bit to learn. For example, in the U.K. several hospitals host birthing wards that not only support, but encourage natural births. Of course, they also offer the ever-so-popular epidural, which provides pain relieve to the mother through an injection into the spinal cord. Yet, the availability to host AND support the alternative, natural process is equally as present. In these natural sections of the birthing ward, midwives are not only available, but many are often present. The concept is simple: mother's have a choice of how they give birth, yet they are in a setting that they will be supported, regardless of the outcome: challenges or not. Maybe this lack of immediate choice is what made my cousin so nervous. That option of natural birthing process, using birthing tubs and midwives, isn't the most preferred method in the U.S., so most hospitals are not fully stocked with the appropriate equipment to guide the mother through the process. If the hospital you are attending does not have the options that you want, that leads you to believe that they are not prepared. That is absolutely a scary thought. What mother wants to bring her child into the world with the possibility that the professionals guiding you through the process don't understand and can't support the process that you prefer? I know I sure wouldn't.
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