Waiting for Baby #2

As with my first pregnancy I am now entering a stage of focusing in. My poor sister, mother, and friends-- I am on a birth kick for sure and have trouble thinking about other things! So I thought it warranted a blog post.

I don't know what preparing for a hospital birth is like. Of course, I have to have it in the back of my head that I could end up being transported at any point before, during, or after labor. But for a home birth you spend a lot of time fussing over things at home. Not only is the nursery/crib/baby's dresser a reason to rearrange things a million times-- you also have a box of birthing supplies to contend with, snacks for you and any others present to sustain everyone through the process, a postpartum care artillery. All my paraphernalia has been moved from one large box to lots of little boxes, from our room to the guest room/office upstairs, it's all been labeled and de-labeled twice, and I'm still not quite happy with how it is set up on the bookshelf upstairs.

There is childcare to set up. The bathrooms need to stay clean. I run through a mental list of comfort things I might want handy during labor like a favorite movie and comfy clothing. I'm sure many of these things are a concern with a planned hospital birth, too, but there is something about living in the space you plan to give birth in that makes you feel like you are crafting something. Maybe other home birth moms have had a different sense in the weeks leading up (please share your thoughts below!).

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Yesterday we enjoyed some time as a family of 3.5. We drove up to Chrisman Mill winery to get a celebration bottle of my favorite local wine then headed to the UK arboretum. How nice to see the flowers and smell all the plants coming to life! Lucy collected sticks and dandelions. We ate a little lunch, went to the bookstore. I don't know how much harder outings like that become when another kid is added to the count.

I've had a lag in work so the three of us have been hanging out this week, catching up on reading and phone calls, still dealing with the pile of paper work from the house buying business. Today Lucy and I looked through her newborn pictures. "I was small... and TINY!" she told me. Lucy also said the baby looks like her; we'll see soon.

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So I spend each day in a space somewhere between my regular mental state (which isn't so grounded to begin with!) and that place your head goes when you give birth. I listen to lots of music I liked as a little kid-- Red Hot Chili Peppers, Foo Fighters, Mariah Carey, Michael Jackson and all that-- and soak up the dreamy mood that comes with preparing for the birth of a new life.

The Game, Abortion, Compassion

In the summer of 2005 I often listened to the song "Hate It or Love It" by The Game. Surely it was the refrain that caught my attention, but it didn't take long for the lyrics to sink in. The Game sings about parts of his life, his days dealing drugs and eventual success. Then at the end he thinks about what might still be going on in his old neighborhood and sings:

"I wanna know what's going on like I hear Marvin
No school books
They use their wood to build coffins
Whenever I'm in a booth
And I get exhausted
I think what if Marie Baker got that abortion
I love you Ma"

I have no idea what its like to be a black guy growing up in Compton-- I am a white girl who grew up in the burbs on the other coast. So I'm left only to wonder.

Now The Game, born Jayceon Taylor, implies that he draws strength from the fact that his mother did not abort him when she was likely to or thought about doing so. That must shape who you are as a person, knowing that you were wanted enough to be born even though statistics and circumstances were slanted against you.

But the very fact that you are a person likely to be aborted, what does that say about your worth in the eyes of others?

It is abortion under the guise of compassion that hangs me up more than anything. The logic seems to go like this:

You are a in a bad situation (no spouse, or no job or in the middle of school, or perhaps you already have a number of kids)

Another child will exacerbate the situation for you and your dependents, or you will be able to provide a less than ideal life for the unborn child

So you should have an abortion to show compassion on yourself, your family, your unborn child

Okay, how do we know (or how can we even begin to guess) that life for that child might be bad? We look at children already born in similar situations.

So while Mr. Taylor may be able to thank his mom (and rightfully so) that she chose to bear him into the world he is still the once poor, black, urban child people often look to as an example of why other poor city children should not be brought into the world. The only thing more invalidating than not being allowed to be born is someone pointing to you and saying "we use you to justify why other children like you should not be brought into the world." Same goes for people with disabilities.

As clear as day, when you tell the poor mother or the young mother or the mother carrying a special needs child "you should probably have an abortion" you are telling all those kids born into similar circumstances "you probably should not have been born." That, my friends, is not compassion in any way, shape, or form.