On the Treatment of Women

I've been reading a novel about a futuristic society fueled by information technology.  The novel portrays the degradation that a culture falls into when we become too dependant on our technology.  In the main character's disillusionment, he searches for meaning in a primitive tribe in Africa, hoping to find a culture less corrupted by the evils of the modern age.  What he learns is that, although they lack the technology and access to unlimited information that the developed world possesses, tribal life is just as cruel and corrupt.  His discovery comes as a result of witnessing a brutal female genital mutilation ritual, performed on the bare dirt ground, with no anesthetic, no sterilization, as a 13 year old girl screams and writhes in pain and the rest of the tribe looks on, chanting.  The members of the tribe explain to the outsider that it must be done, it always has been.  Females who have the ability to take pleasure in sex threaten the established culture.  It is thought that such a woman cannot be controlled, and will "wander from tent to tent like a whore".  Furthermore, it has to hurt, and through the pain she will learn her place in society.

It was a fairly disturbing read, and it brought up so many emotions in me, especially in light of my own experience with genital mutilation.  You can try to argue that our modern, enlightened culture doesn't perform such rites of passage in the civilized world, but I beg to differ.  I learned our society's true attitudes towards women when I was 21, giving birth to my first daughter in the hospital.  Giving birth is one of our important rights of passage, a passing from childhood to adulthood.  How gently and lovingly that transition is made affects the person making the transition in a significant way, as it teaches them what they can expect from their new status in life.  It also says a lot about the culture the individual is a part of, and defines the relationship between the individual and the group.

Having learned a little about the dangers of medical intervention in the birth process, I requested a natural, medication free birth.  I specifically requested that I be given no episiotomy, as I had learned that it is faster and easier for the body to heal after a naturally occurring tear, than a surgical cut and subsequent stitches.  For those of you who are unfamiliar, an episiotomy is a cut made to the perimeum, which is the skin between the vagina and the anus.  The supposed purpose is to enlarge the vagina to make room for the baby's head.  The practice is not only painful, but unnecessary, disrespectful, cruel, and hateful.

I say unnecessary for this reason, the body is made to birth a baby.  The vagina (also known as the birth canal) is specifically designed to allow a baby to emerge.  That is why it is so stretchy.  Take my elbow as an example.  I am sure you will all agree that my arm is meant to bend.  When I bend my arm, I do not worry about the skin suddenly becoming too taught and bursting open, causing me to die of blood loss.  I have danced the chicken dance many times, and the thought has never occurred to me.  Try it for yourself, if you like.  Make your arm into the shape of a chicken wing, by putting your hand on the inside of your shoulder.  See?  Your skin is still intact.  It is just as easy for the vagina to stretch around a baby's head.  To believe otherwise is not only ridiculous, or spitting in the face of Nature, but it is suggesting (as the medical profession often does) that women's bodies don't work, that we are improperly designed or somehow defective.

I suppose I should not be surprise that the medical profession doesn't truly understand the basic functions of a woman's body.  After all, they are a patriarchal society, and hold women's bodies in very low esteem.  If this was not true, why would so many women be emerging from medically managed births with mutilated genitals?  There is a reason that certain people have coined the term "birth rape".  The episiotomy was given to me without my consent.  The nameless, faceless stranger who sat down in front of my most private parts as I was pushing out my first child said "I'm going to do an episiotomy."  When my husband said "She doesn't want an episiotomy", he said "Too late.  It's already done."  The cut was about an inch long.  It took me six months to heal.  Sex was a painful experience for me long after my child was born.  The anger I felt over the clear violation lasted for years.

Before you go thinking that   this story is grotesque, consider for a minute that there are far worse forms of abuse going on in North American hospitals than episiotomies.  In fact, the numbers are reaching a staggering one in four, or in some hospitals one in three.  The uterus is an extension of the genitals.  Despite being the sacred home of our child, and the mysterious realm of womanhood, or perhaps because of those things, it is being cut up like a disposable piece of flesh.  The enlightening, empowering experience of birthing our babies is being robbed from us, as our bodies are damaged, violated and abused, often without our full informed consent or because we are being bullied or threatened into consenting.  We are being lied to (told our bodies don't work), and if we do not agree to let them do whatever they want to our bodies, we are told that we are putting our selves and our babies at risk.

If you have been a victim of a medical birth experience, I am so sorry.  I have no real solutions for mental and emotional healing at this point, but I believe that having proper knowledge of and faith in our bodies is key.  We have to realize that we were wronged, that they had no right to do that to us.  I hope that each one of us can uncover the lies that were told to us, and sort it out from the truth.  I hope that one day, women can be truly empowered to be in charge of their bodies and their births.  I hope that one day, our society's attitudes will change, in regards to the treatment of women, and this rite of passage that brings us into the stage of our lives on which the human race depends.

An Education in Ridicule

My eight year old daughter came home from school today to say that another kid had pushed her down in the snow, against a set of stairs.  She was crying.  I pressed her for a few of the details, and, not knowing what to say, I gave her a hug and sat her down to a plate of hot pancakes with maple syrup.
Turns out, the kid that pushed her today, also a third grade girl, did so because my daughter "doesn't believe in god, and doesn't like Justin Bieber."  Apparently, in the third grade, this constitutes a major social faux pas.  It may sound ridiculous, but for me, this is a very frustrating situation.  I feel like the public school environment is undermining the things I have been teaching her all her life.
First of all, I've taught her that it's never okay to hit, push, kick or be violent.  I've told her over and over again that nobody has the right to hurt her.  That is called abuse and assault.  It is wrong and illegal.  Adults end up in jail for that sort of thing.  If there's one thing I want to teach my kids, it's that violence is not acceptable.  I wonder if the school is conveying the same message.  We have had problems with bullying before.  Last year it was the same kid and his friends continually for most of the year.  Despite our complaints, the school did nothing for several months.  They gave the kid "a talking to."  Finally, they sent a note home in his agenda.  His behavior still didn't stop.  The school claims to have a zero tolerance policy for bullying, but when they have a chance to prove it, they display the opposite.  So, even though at home she is taught that no one should ever lay a hand on her in anger, at school she is taught that people will, and that they'll get away with it, too.
Another thing I've been teaching her is that she has a right to choose her beliefs.  We all do.  She has asked me plenty of questions about god, religion, and what other people believe.  I'm fairly knowledgeable on the subject, and I've answered all her questions as best as I can.  I've never told her god isn't real.  If she asks what she should believe, or "what religion are we?"  I tell her to believe whatever she wants.  Ask questions, read books, and then decide for yourself.  I believe people should internalize their spirituality, rather than inherit it.  She says "I don't believe god is real", and I tell her that is a fine thing to believe.
But although the school has never told her otherwise, the kids at school certainly are.  And once again, I wonder what the school is doing about it.  This, too, is frustrating, because these little kids don't know a thing about spirituality.  At this age, they are simply spouting off the narowmindedness that they are getting from their parents.  They are completely ignorant of religion and the damage it causes and has caused, and yet they are perpetuating it.  Even though it is a secular school, I feel it is their responsibility to address this, before my daughter learns not to think for herself.
Not only is she learning not to think for herself, she's learning not to be herself.  The Justin Bieber thing is ridiculous, but it's representative of a larger problem with pop culture and peer pressure.  A month ago, she didn't want to wear her Twisted Sister t-shirt to school because the other kids don't like Twisted Sister.  What can I say?  It's not easy being yourself in a world of conformists.  It's certainly not easy being a kid, and trying to balance your individuality with what others expect of you.
I suppose I could tell her that it gets easier.  That somehow in adulthood, these problems don't seem so monstrous.  We learn to surround ourselves, as much as possible, with people who will support us, accept us, and treat us with respect.  But the underlying issues still exist, they never really go away.  So perhaps this is just a part of life.  Maybe I should be thanking the public school for initiating her into the world so painfully and so completely.  Still, I can't help but wonder, isn't it too early?  Couldn't I protect her from this for a little while longer?  Does she really have to grow up just yet?  She just turned eight years old.

Miscarriage of Justice

Over the last week, my mind has been thrown into a mass of confusion and uncertainty.  I would like to say that I am at peace, but I am not.  If you ask me how I'm doing, and I say "Fine," please understand that I am lying.  I haven't only lost a child, but my hopes and dreams for the future, my sense that my life will someday be better than it is, my idea that I can mold my life into what I want it to be.  I have lost all control.

I'm trying not to feel too sorry for myself, though I'm well practiced at the art of being depressed.  But I am not the only woman to go through this, and we still have children to take care of, and households to run.  So I get up, have a bath, wash the dishes, make dinner.  I was surprised to discover how common miscarriages actually are.  In the past week, so many women shared stories with me of their own miscarriage experiences.  This is something that most people usually don't talk about.  It is amazing really, women are such strong people.  They continue to work and take care of their families, even when their bodies are in pain and their hearts are breaking.

I've been reading some miscarriage stories and support websites, and the biggest thing that struck me was  how differently I was dealing with things than the women in the stories.  Most women's experiences seemed to include ultrasounds, Dopplers, pills, injections or d&c's.  It never occurred to me that these things would help, only that they would make the whole experience far more unpleasant.  In the medical community, I don't feel that women's bodies are given the respect that they deserve.  Our bodies are perfectly capable of doing what they need to do without medication or technology.  The womb cleans itself out every month, and a miscarriage is no different.  I left my body alone to do what it needed to do.  I stayed at home, where it was quiet and comfortable.  The cramps I felt for several days were the womb contracting just like it does in labor.  This opened up my cervix enough to allow me to pass the tissue from the womb.  I passed it in the bathtub, and I felt that, in our own way, my baby and I had the water birth that I believe is the most gentle way to birth a baby.

I used some herbs in the process to help my body heal.  Raspberry leaf is full of vitamins and minerals, and has an astringent effect on the uterus.  Nettle is another nourishing herb, especially high in iron, which helps to avoid anemia.  Ginger can improve digestion, as well as relieve cramps and nausea.  Cinnamon helps improve circulation, and makes tea taste yummy.  Medicinal strength tea can be made in a one liter jar.  Put about 3 tablespoons of each herb in the jar, add a small slice of fresh ginger, and about and inch of a cinnamon stick, crushed into pieces.  Fill the jar with boiling water, stir, and put the lid on.  Leave the jar to sit at room temperature several hours or overnight.  When I was still experiencing cramping, I wrapped the jar in a pillowcase and took it to bed with me.  This is much like sleeping with a hot water bottle, and I found it incredibly soothing.  This tea is safe for women any time, but is especially helpful during pregnancy, miscarriage or menstruation.

I had cramping and nausea for about 5 days.  So far, I have been bleeding for 8 days.  Like pregnancy and birth, there is a wide range of what is considered normal, but general consensus seems to be that we usually bleed for one to three weeks.  We can rest in the knowledge that our bodies are doing what they need to do.  There are a few complications that can occur, such as infection or hemorrhage, but these are rare.  A normal miscarriage is much like a normal birth: it is not dangerous, it can be handled at home, and the more you can relax and let the process happen, the easier it will be.

I have learned an important lesson through all of this about the nature of grieving and support.  There have been times when I knew a friend had suffered the loss of someone important to them.  I was uncomfortable with death and didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.  In retrospect, I wish I could have been more aware of what they needed to hear, and less concerned with my own self-conscious feelings.  I hope I never make this mistake again.

This is a picture I drew.  I wish I could say it was entirely my own work, but the idea came from a painting called "Miscarriage of Justice" by Lina Scarfi.

Dragon - a poem

I found him in the water
A small Dragon with a billowy tail
And wings like paper
Suspended in the tide

How could you float so free
While inside I was drowning
And why would you leave me

What did your soul need that I couldn't give
When I would do anything for you

He tried to float away
But I would not let him go
I couldn't
So I buried him inside of me
I closed my eyes and I swallowed

Now Dragon, you must stay
For I have clipped your wings
And you can't fly away