What a Way to Go: Network

Hi everyone. Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've been really depressed and having a hard time reaching out.

I had some remarkable dreams last night and wanted to share them with you. They are a bit fuzzy and choppy in my memory but there are pieces that I can still see clearly.

In one part of my dreams, Sally, you were there, and you were a midwife. This was hugely important to me-- you were taking a stand on the subject of birth and death. In my waking life, I have recently been obsessed with reliving the trauma of my baby's birth by emergency cesarean, and connecting profoundly to the reality that she could have died. When I tell people the story of her birth, they are all amazed at the miracle of her survival. I have been especially moved recently because I connected with a blogger whose baby died at birth and who writes powerful stuff about birth and death. I wrote her a long, heartfelt email. It turned out the woman lives in the next town over from mine. We have met in person and she is absolutely wonderful.

So, just to provide further context, my new friend and I were talking about birth choices and risks and our feelings at confronting some of the fierce debates going on among people interested in the birthing experience and protecting the health of mothers and babies. We live in an area where there are a lot of homebirth advocates and midwives of all stripes: those who work in hospitals and are also nurses, those who want nothing to do with hospitals, those who support unassisted childbirth, etc. I have been struggling mightily to take in all angles of the following debate: where is it healthiest for women to give birth? what contributes to a good birth? Are women being given true or false information, true or false choices? What risks are worth taking? What about when the stakes are high, incredibly high, the death of one's child?

Increasingly, I find myself drawn to those who are able to dwell, or forced to dwell, in the realm of loss and tragedy and ask the hard questions about life and death. Sally, you are one of those people, as are probably most of the people reading this.

Another piece of dream last night: I am in a room and the walls are covered with tiny metallic tacks, arranged in a grid. I am filled with dread. I know that each tack represents a story, an important story, and they are about to explode. I am terrified and wondering what to do, but I am also busy peeling labels off of jars, frantically.

Love to you all- Jen.