And the dialogue begins...

It’s 5AM and my nerves have been bad since yesterday’s launch of my Indiegogo.com campaign for my short film project, CURDLED.  I followed the “Campaign Tips” and inundated FB with news of the launch, along with private messages to friends via text, email, whatever would get it out.  (Indiegogo says nearly 30% of what funds I do raise will come from friends and fam, so…)  I get it.  Times are tough.  And I imagine people vacillating like, “Eat…or donate?  Eat, or donate?  EAT!”  But, if I didn’t ask, my indecision would sound something like, “Fulfill a dream… or, wallow in regret?  Fulfill, or wallow?  Fulfill?  Wallow?"  You get my drift.  So, it is going down!  Worst case scenario, the project raises 30% and moves forward from there.  Best case, it succeeds in raising the goal and we move forward from there.  The point is… the project is moving forward and THAT is what matters. 

With each passing day, I realize the necessity of the story.  There is something completely validating about seeing/hearing your experience reflect through someone else’s telling.  Below, I pasted a recent email that I received from a singer/songwriter friend who read my CURDLED script and was moved to write to me.  She, too, is a “later-in-life” mom who had a very similar pregnancy experience to mine (not the home birth, midwife part, but the emotions and hospital visits).  I’ve edited it down but I didn’t want to take away from her narrative, conversational style so bear with the length.  I am grateful for her story and I encourage YOU, dear reader, to share yours here, or in some other meaningful space.  It’s a dialogue long overdue.  ENJOY!

HERE'S THE EMAIL

Shia,

… What an interesting theme, mom's over 40. You know I had Jazz when I was 41. I turned 42 a month later. Going into my pregnancy, I had no thoughts or preconceived notions about my age being a factor. I was just excited. I didn't think OMG I'm so old and at risk. I didn't even know I was pregnant for over a month. I'd thought that I'd just had jet lag, because I'd returned from a Euro Tour. I was kinda tired. Then, after a month or so, my dresses didn't fit right. Also, there was the absence of my "moon" for almost 2 months. I thought I was going through menopause…

…it finally occurred to me that I might be pregnant.  [My husband] and I were doing our post tour “relax and regenerate” trip up the coast.  We picked up a home pregnancy test in Cambria, and used it when we got to Big Sur.  Upon discovery we were elated.  I decided to call an OBGYN at Cedars …thinking well, this ought to be the best care, right?  Cedars is top of the line.  I was completely ignorant of everything with regards to pregnancy… pretty much functioning off of what society had presented via films and TV, as well as just hearsay and rumor; The general consensus being that you go to a hospital because doctors know best.

I enlisted a well-known [doctor].  I very excitedly went to Cedars for my check-ups. Rushing over the hill to be on time, sweating the cash to pay for expensive parking, only to wait in a waiting room, pee in a cup that I passed through a small door in the bathroom wall, more waiting, finally meeting with the doctor, who was very brief.  I'd leave the office feeling sort of let down... 

…In the next few Doctor's office visits came the questions about tests and how I should take them due to my age.  Then I started to question the questions.  First of all, I didn't feel old until they started telling me I was.  And then I still didn't feel old.  I said no to everything.  I refused the Amniocentesis [and others, and] I started to read about all this stuff they were talking about.  All these tests that don't guarantee anything but had extremely high risks.  And, would I abort my baby because their test may have detected something?  It all just felt so clinical, as though pregnant women had an illness or condition… Instead of a healthy respect for women, bearers of the miracle of life and for the human body, which has known how to do this since the beginning of humanity.  Babies come from God, Jah, Allah… not doctors.  When one encounters a pregnant woman, one ought to bow down before this miracle. 

So all of my questioning seemed to create a bit of tension with the doctor, as though I was challenging the system.  And I was.  I was becoming a parent before the baby was born.  I wanted to know is this stuff safe and I wasn’t getting answers that put me at ease.  The last straw was this.  I'd been gigging, doing shows like crazy and feeling great.  I wasn't sitting around eating bon bons, still taking my walks of a mile or two.  My belly shot out like a cannon and my butt spread like cream cheese.  My ankles were not swollen.  I was still light on my feet on stage and I was super happy. But, in an appointment with the doctor, around 4 months or so, she weighed me and told me to, “lay off the ice cream.”  I was furious.  I wanted to say, “Bitch, I don't eat ice cream. You don't know me!.... Kiss my big...“  Well, you get the idea.  I was upset.  And that was the end of that.  I went into that office that day, floating on a cloud, in my high heels and my stretchy, one shoulder mini dress.  I felt pretty.  When I left, I felt awful.   

This was not how I wanted my experience to be.  And I'd already been avoiding anyone who came to me with negativity.  Ya know, everyone wants to tell you some awful story when they see that you’re pregnant.  Anyway, I fired the Doctor. 

I'd been doing some reading and watching films of home births.  They were some of the most natural, beautiful things I'd ever seen. I spoke to [my husband] about the idea of home birth. We were in agreement. I located a mid-wife; an elderly lady who'd been catching babies for a long time. She'd even been to jail on several occasions as she fought for the right to legalize home births. She had a wonderful, groovy little sweet smelling office in Calabassas… where I asked her a million questions [and] she answered with grace and kindness.  {From her library] I read and read and read about the history of child birth in the country and it was a rude awakening.  She told me to learn as much as I could, but in the end, to follow my instincts because that’s what they're for…  

…My point is that this mindset that women over 40 having babies are at risk, is based on some information that keeps getting repeated, just because that what’s been said.  Just like the procedures that keep being done, because that’s what’s been done; like vaccinations and circumcision.  When you uncover the history of childbirth in the U.S. and why things are done the way they are, you start to wonder why everyone is going along with it.  My mid-wife never mentioned my age.  It just wasn’t a factor. 

Women have been successfully having babies at 40 and over for a long time. I don't recommend that women wait till then, but I certainly wouldn't tell them to freak out if they find themselves pregnant. The fact that you're growing a baby inside you should be sign enough… Life just keeps going on, no matter how human beings try to muck it up… 

…I believe that a pregnant woman should do whatever makes her comfortable. That’s the bottom line. But I would love to see women take back their power in this area of life that solely belongs to them. And have faith in their ability to know what they need. The entire earth and all of its cycles mimic those of the female body. The more we look outside of ourselves to remedy our natural processes as though they do not matter, the more we lose touch with our power and purpose.  No, not all of us are meant to bear children, yet we have our roles to play within our sector of humanity… 

I'd better go to bed. I hope that my ramblings were interesting to you and relevant. I am very excited about your "Curdled" venture, your positive spirit and your art. I look forward to hearing more about your creations...

Thanks for reading, y’all.  Onward and upward…

Always Love…