Why Natural Birth Advocates Are Passionate

photo courtesy of stockxchng

A lot of people misconstrue natural child birth advocates as judgmental (and frankly, everyone is judgmental to some degree--it's a natural defense mechanism) when in fact, the passion they're displaying is intended to be protective and comes from a place of caring.

Let's imagine you know of a few different hair and nail salons. One is super popular, even though it's more expensive and the satisfaction rating is lower than the other three in the area. But they give out 'free' cappuccinos, lattes, mochas or tea with every visit. I put free in quotes because the cost is actually recouped in the more expensive service.

Now, you know a few people come out with awesome hair, exactly what they wanted, but most people end up being talked into a haircut they didn't want or just having their hair messed up completely. They went in hoping to go blonde and ended up red or wanted their natural nails painted and styled, but the manicurist does such a bad job that they have to have acrylics to cover up the damage.

 

 photo courtesy of Beaudenoir at stockxchng

Women keep going back, though, because the place is great for covering their asses when they screw up. Women actually leave believing that the place saved them from what they actually wanted (and would have looked far better on them). Not to mention the free drink! It's almost perfect.

In the other salons, women go in and while a few have to go to the popular salon to get a mistake fixed up, the vast majority come out happy and with the hair and nails that they wanted--or even better than they expected.

Would you recommend the popular salon? Wouldn't you try to stop your friends and family from going there, knowing what a terrible experience so many other people report having?

 

photo courtesy of stockxchng

Unless you're a contrary person and/or refusing to follow the analogy, you probably just said, "Of course not!"

Now, I chose hair salon because I always have freaking awful experiences at the ones I can afford and most people will use one at some point in their life. But any business where that sort of thing went on, we would find unacceptable and try to warn the people we care about to stay away from. It would be really frustrating watching friend after friend go in anyway and end up with the same experience. Can you imagine all the times you had to bite your tongue because their hair looked mediocre or worse, but they were trying to only see the positive in it?

Well, if you add in the number of women and babies who are injured or who die who shouldn't, that is where the intense passion comes from. It's not just about the NCB advocate's own experiences (which are subject to far more ridicule and judgment than any other mother's birth choices), it's about protecting every woman's experience. It's about protecting the people we love and the loved ones of others as well.

That isn't to say that there aren't beautiful births that have necessary interventions, pain medication or happen surgically! The NCB is never speaking against necessary deviations, but those which could be avoided. Very often, we started out at the popular salon ourselves and that's why we recommend the others. Out of love.

Stop Emotional Labeling of Food

 

photo courtesy of aschaeffer at stockxchng

So, food and I have issues. For one, I do not like to be seen eating, because I feel that everyone equates being fat with eating. As a teenager, this translated into skipping months eating more than a meal a day (sometimes not that much) for fear of being judged for eating. I don't have a problem eating in a group as long as everyone else is eating, because it's like I'm camouflaged.

This stems to a lot of emotional language linked to food as I grew up. My mom 'rewarded' us with 'treats' and when I was eating when she wanted me to be doing something else, she would yell at me for "stuffing/feeding my face."

As a result, I have a lot of guilt when I eat. I feel like food is something you have to 'earn' and eating is a waste of time and money. My feelings only apply to me, however. I know all of the above is utter garbage, but it's so ingrained into me from years of emotional food language that I can't separate it in regards to myself.

All of this was brought up from reading one of the latest Guinness World Records: The World's Heaviest Woman. I'm far, far from there (and doubt she's the actual record holder, but she is the one willing to step forward... figuratively), but her story made me so sad that I finally had to write all of this down.

I try very hard to avoid emotional language and connections to food with my children. Fighting is not allowed while we are eating. Guilt is not allowed while someone is eating. Behaviors are not rewarded with food and food is not taken away as punishment (the old 'sent to bed without dinner'). Food is used as what it is: a necessary energy/nutrient supply. Yes, it should taste good, too.

I think it's very important to avoid comforting and rewarding with food. Just as important is to avoid shaming with food and associating food with guilt and shame. Both anorexia and emotional eating stem from these associations. (Of course, body image issues also contribute, but so much of that is societal, and this is something parents can control)

I think a lot of this is also hard for those whose love language is Acts of Service, especially those of us who got our cup filled by those special moments with grandma or whoever gave us 'special treats.' Those are also dangerous for the future adult, as they are emotionally associated with a positive memory and thus, can be used for comfort later. Ways to avoid this? Certainly don't spoil special moments with grandma! But, also make sure that grandma/grandpa/auntie isn't the only one giving the favorite food if it's something that would be especially unhealthy to indulge in in times of emotional distress. Find a middle ground, of course, even if that means suggesting grandma stick to fruits or letting kids have cookies at home--without emotional baggage attached.

My weight problems actually have little to do with food and more to do with me not being active enough, but they were actually begun with an attack of genetics mixed with my body's withdrawal from Ritalin, which I was on for ADHD as a child and stopped cold turkey when I was 12, resulting in me doubling my weight in the next year (not knowing about the side effects of stopping so suddenly or having had an appetite in years--I was severely underweight). The next attack on my body was being on depo provera (on which, I gained 75lbs) for two years.

And, of course, a note that comforting a baby/toddler/preschooler with nursing is not even close to the same as using food.

Your Baby

originally posted on cafemom Jun 30, 2008 at 2:18 PM

photo by SUNCHASERS

You are the first person your baby will ever love (even if you share that with Daddy, Grandma or Aunt, etc.).

Your baby doesn't care if you put on makeup in the morning.

Your baby doesn't care if you wear your pajamas (or nothing) all day long.

Your baby doesn't care how you sing--to him, you are the greatest singer in the world, even if you've been told you can't carry a tune in a bucket or had your significant other ask you not to sing in the shower.

Your baby doesn't care what music you like--you have the best taste in the world.

Your baby doesn't care how old you are.

Your baby doesn't care how much you weigh.

Your baby doesn't care what you look like at all--you are as beautiful to your baby as she is to you--maybe even more so.

Your baby doesn't compare you to other moms.

Your baby doesn't care if you know the 'right' words to her favorite lullaby.

Your baby doesn't care if your bed isn't made.

Your baby doesn't care if your towels match.

Your baby doesn't care if your socks match.

Your baby doesn't care if your sink is shiny.

Your baby doesn't care if you sleep 14 hours a day--as long as you sleep with him (or when he does).

Your baby doesn't care what car you drive.

Your baby doesn't care what shoes you wear.

Your baby doesn't care if your clothes came from a fashion designer or the thrift store.

Your baby doesn't care if his clothes came from the thrift store!

Your baby doesn't care about the size of your breasts or your butt.

Your baby doesn't care if you don't 'do' your hair.

You tell the world's best jokes, to your baby. You make the funniest faces, the greatest sounds.

Your baby doesn't care if you missed your shower.

Your baby doesn't care what anyone else thinks.

So why should you?

All your baby cares about is that you love her or him and keep him or her safe, well-fed, comfortable and wrapped in your love.

All your baby cares about... is you.

Photo courtesy of stockxchng

The Difference of a Midwife

So, with my first pregnancy, I wanted a midwife, but between bad information and some bad luck, I was unable to get away from the obstetrician (that I originally hired because I thought that was just what you did). It's something I really regret. On my first appointment, she made me cry by telling me that I had basically no control over who would be at my birth (or be putting their hands inside me).

I figured, okay, well, I guess that's how it is at OB practices. But appointment after appointment, she spent the time working on trying to make me afraid that this or that could happen. I was told not to read anything about pregnancy/birth or to participate in my Due Date Club (all of which I ignored, of course). She read my birth plan in front of me, told me everything was good, went over it and approved it.

Then, around 36 weeks, she freaked out over my use of the term 'emergency' to say that was the only time I would agree to a cesarean. Like most women who had never been to medical school, I had no clue that the obstetric definition of 'emergency' was a far cry from the average person's. And rather than just try to explain, she blew up and went on a rant and when my husband tried to calm her down by asking what the risks of an actual emergency cesarean were, she announced that it was basically guaranteed with "someone like [me]."

She continued with ignoring the whole agreement we had that we would not discuss induction before 42 weeks--she started pressuring me to induce at 38 weeks. I agreed to a sizing ultrasound and she was disappointed to see that it did not agree with her assertion that I'd have some gargantuan giant (with no medical reason to believe that I would). She was frustrated that I wouldn't let her control my birth and she took it out on me and tried to frighten me into it as much as she could (all the while trying to sound reasonable, kind and caring). If I hadn't had the awesome, supportive community of natural mama friends that I had, I might have been beaten down.

So, I think you can understand why I was wary in my second pregnancy and going to an OB, even if it was a new one. Due to insurance issues (screw ups in the administration part of it), it was 20 weeks before my first appointment. Every appointment, I was stressed and worried and sure that the First OB from Hell would reappear in the skin of my new OB. But time and time again, he was a great doctor, involved my daughter in appointments and was quite a CNM in OB clothing.

I had my VBAC with him and while I have some complaints about how I was treated by the staff, I don't have any complaints about my doctor. But I didn't want to birth in a hospital again. I didn't want to do the whole cycle of fear all over.

While I was recovering from trauma from my second daughter's labor and postpartum period, a friend had a wonderful announcement: a new birth center was being opened in my city. I was so excited. As people talked about the midwife who worked there, my excitement just climbed. No one had anything negative to say about her and really, she sounded too good to be true.

Still, I sent her an e-mail asking some questions about insurance, VBAC, etc. and was even more excited by her answers. She took my insurance, she was planning to take VBACs, it was all a go! Honestly, that was the last bit that I needed to heal and be prepared to get pregnant again.

Fast forward to my first appointment. I felt no fear as I approached the building. No trepidation, no sense of 'this person is going to hurt me, take my autonomy and make me cry.' It was an amazing feeling. I'm sure that the birth center being in an old house really helped--no sterile, cold office to make me feel separate and subject to someone else's will.

First, there was a living room for a waiting room. Not that there was much waiting--it was more to give the kids a place to play and my husband somewhere to sit comfortably with them where he didn't have to feel like he was dodging around being in the way (a constant concern of his).

The kids immediately connected with the midwife and her assistant and frankly, so did I. There were these magical words coming out of her mouth--it was like I was in Bizarro world. "You'll be expected to eat and drink to comfort in labor." "We don't cut the cord until it's done pulsing." "No one's going to be telling you when to push, we want you to listen to your body." "You'll be catching your own baby." (This was after I mentioned how much that meant to me with my VBAC)

There was a birthing pool in the room where the appointment took place. I sat on a real bed, not some table-bed thing. Normal sphygmomanometer, normal doppler (although the assistant was amazingly gentle with it--I'm used to the doppler wand making me kind of sore--and she found my baby's heartbeat at 10 weeks, which I didn't think would be possible!), O2 tank hidden off but available, etc. The safety measures available, but not obvious (and I don't mean not obvious by how they are kept in cabinets in the hospital, etc. -- actually not obvious).

My kids were included in what was going on. At my last appointment, my oldest was taught how to pump the sphygnomanometer and today, she and her sister both got to pump it up most of the way before the assistant needed to take over and get the actual reading.

Then everyone took turns listening to my heart.

And each other's:

Seriously, a picture is worth a thousand words. When are you ever going to see the scenes above at an OB's office? And an appointment isn't the same either. Today was my glucose test and it was probably the longest I ever waited--about ten minutes--while I paced around, letting my grape juice burn off (as being stationary is bad for the test!) and poked around the rooms (which is when I saw the O2 tank for the first time, actually) curiously. I've had the pleasure of watching the birth center be turned into the lovely building that it is now, since it was so new when I first started coming.

While my daughter shot darts at the door under the encouragement of my midwife and her sister laughed, stealing them and running back to Daddy, we talked about diet (protein, protein, protein!), concerns, where I'd want to transfer if I had preterm issues (my concern I brought up today), how to effectively communicate in labor and dealing with trauma from previous births.

At our last appointment, we talked about music and their available equipment for listening to it and the variety that mamas brought in. She also talked about my birth stories (which she read here on the blog) and how we could most effectively get me the birth I wanted (and she met my doula).

It's such a huge difference--I feel like a person, not a patient. My kids feel welcome and I'm really looking forward to birthing there. I don't feel like I have to make a plan to protect myself from staff--I know the 'staff.' It's my midwife, her assistant and my doula. It won't be whoever's on call at the time with mostly nurses taking care of me with the luck of the draw.

So, for me, there's been a huge difference and definitely a greater happiness and satisfaction with my care in this pregnancy. Not just the difference of a midwife, but the right midwife. And that's something I wouldn't trade for anything right now.

Wordless Wednesday: Pregnancy

In labor with Naomi, 39 weeks, 5 days

these shots captured a contraction as it happened

My Night Weaning Journey

This post was originally published on May 5, 2009 at 2:21 PM on CafeMom. It has been edited to better suit our situation now.

I've had to rewrite this so many times that I decided it was time to just copy/paste it here (edit: I've rewritten it a bit for this blog). My decision to night wean Lilly was brought on by pregnancy--I experienced severe aversion at night and finally had to try, but was unwilling to continue if my little girl experienced any distress from it. She was around 20 months:

What I did was start telling her (she called nursing and my breasts "nummas" at the time) "The nummas are sleeping". We started incorporating saying good-night to the nummas into the good-nights of our bedtime ritual and that's when she'd stop for the night (then we'd cuddle to sleep from there). The first two nights, she woke up and wanted to nurse--the first time, she wasn't okay with the nummas sleeping, so I "woke one up" and she nursed back to sleep. That was the only time she cried about it (she whined a couple times, but I distracted and cuddled her--she began demanding cuddles instead) and not to the point of tears. The next night, she woke a couple times, but accepted that they were asleep. The next night, she didn't wake up at all.

I was only planning to test the waters, to see if it was okay with her, because I didn't want to force her into anything she wasn't ready for, but she was clearly ready. That's how we gently night weaned. And I had every intention of stopping the attempt if it distressed her.

Dad was not involved because she needed the comfort to come from me. But he could put her to bed only a couple months later if he needed to (although he goes to bed before everyone else, so that's not really a thing anymore). By the time this post was written, she even put herself to bed.

She regressed and needed to night nurse again, so we started again (since I was already up nursing her sister, it didn't bother me at all) but it worked while I needed it to and if her sister wasn't waking her up at night, I knew she'd still have be night weaned. Within a few months of this post originally being written, she night weaned again, this time on her own.

Naomi night weaned on her own around her second birthday. I thought I'd try to night wean her like her sister--it never happened. It was like she sensed it every time I thought about it and went on nursing frenzies, so I stopped thinking about it and slowly, she stopped on her own.

Wordless Wednesday

Welcome to the First Annual Freedom of Cloth Carnival

This post was written for inclusion in the Freedom of Cloth Carnival hosted at Natural Parents Network by Melissa of The New Mommy Files and Shannon of The Artful Mama. This year’s carnival will run from Sunday, July 3rd through Saturday, July 9th. Participants are sharing everything they know and love about cloth diapering, including how cloth has inspired them.

* * *

* * *

Visit Natural Parents Network for the most up-to-date news on the Freedom of Cloth Carnival!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants on the following themes. Articles will go live on the scheduled theme day:

• Sunday, July 3rd, 2011: Cloth Related Recipes — Writers share their best cloth-related recipes and tutorials.


• Monday, July 4th, 2011: Choosing Your Cloth Style — Today’s posts discuss parents' individual journeys to finding the cloth diapering "style" that best suits their families.


• Tuesday, July 5th, 2011: Cloth Diapering Must Haves — Parents talk about the most important items in their diapering “stash” and why they love them.


• Wednesday, July 6th, 2011: Wordless Wednesday, Inspired by Cloth — We asked parents to share their favorite cloth-related photo with us and turned them into a fluffy Wordless Wednesday photo montage on Natural Parents Network. Link up your own Wordless Wednesday post there!


• Thursday, July 7th, 2011: Cloth Through the Stages: From Infancy to Potty Independence — Today’s participants explain how cloth diapering has served their families throughout one or more stages of their children’s lives.


• Friday, July 8th, 2011: Cloth Troubleshooting and Laundry Day — Seasoned cloth diapering parents share their best tips and tricks for handling common cloth problems and tackling the diaper laundry.


• Saturday, July 9th, 2011: Inspired by Cloth — For today’s theme, we’ve asked writers to explore the ways cloth diapering has inspired them to become "greener" overall.
  

Cloth Diapers, Oh, My!

Welcome to the First Annual Freedom of Cloth Carnival

This post was written for inclusion in the Freedom of Cloth Carnival hosted at Natural Parents Network by Melissa of The New Mommy Files and Shannon of The Artful Mama. This year’s carnival will run from Sunday, July 3rd through Saturday, July 9th. Participants are sharing everything they know and love about cloth diapering, including how cloth has inspired them.

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So, for the Natural Parents Network's Freedom of Cloth Carnival submission, I thought I'd talk about my journey to cloth diapering and finding what worked for me.

I used to be one of those women who was grossed out by the idea of cloth diapers. Then I found out more about them and while I wasn't grossed out anymore, I did think they sounded like too much work. I kept thinking, though, just how cute they were. Still, I couldn't see myself doing all that laundry.

Then came the test: a local mama was done with diapers and was giving away her stash. I decided to give them a try. I scored four free medium Fuzzibunz from her. None of the original inserts were with them, but some microfiber towels. I just got a bag of them and had no clue what to do. Or so I assumed--she had thoughtfully stuffed one with a tri-folded insert, which taught me how to do it.

I wanted to try them because my little girl was starting to potty learn and I'd heard that switching to cloth was supposed to help. I figured, at the very least, it would save me some money on disposables.

I had no idea what I'd gotten into!

pictured: adorable Blueberry pocket diaper.

They had already gone through more than one kid, so they weren't new and they were pretty simple, but they certainly worked. And laundry was far easier than I was expecting. Yes, I had more to do, but honestly, I barely noticed.

So I started getting more.

At first, I stuck to what I knew: Fuzzibunz pockets. I used a bunch of internet deals and basically extreme couponed my way to a free small stash. The first I got was a pink gingham Fuzzibunz pocket diaper that was one of the softest things I'd ever felt.

As you can see, my daughter liked it, too. I also obtained a couple AIOs (all-in-ones: basically, the cloth version of the disposable diaper, only washable) and some Blueberry pockets. Finally, I got an AI2 (all-in-two, which means an insert that lies on top of the cover) by Cuddlebug Cloth, who was a WAHM (work at home mom).

Over time, I obtained all sorts of brands--BumGenius (I love OneSize diapers!), Kangababy, Haute Pockets, Kushies and a variety of different diapers made by WAHMs. There were several other brands along the way as I moved from one to two daughters (and my first totally potty learned shortly after her sister was born) and all of them had pluses and negatives (I really liked the one that zipped from the outside, so I never touched poop when unstuffing!). My second daughter started on cloth as soon as she was big enough to fit into the smallest diapers I had (BumGenius, actually!).

My second DD in a cute Canadian diaper

I wasn't a big fan of AIOs when it came time to wash them. They became the pest that I imagined cloth diapers to be, because they took forever to dry. I think that AI2s were actually my favorite. No stuffing and the cover could be reused as long as the insert didn't leak through to it and she didn't poop.

My early stash--mostly fuzzibunz with a BG and my batik-pattern AI2 in the middle.

However, I definitely still favor pockets. They are the type I look for first and the best diapers I had were pocket diapers made by a WAHM. I had one fitted diaper that I used as an insert, basically, in my AI2 cover and later in my gDiapers (which I'd call an AI2 if not for the third part--the little plastic liner). I never did use any flushable inserts with my gDiapers, but I enjoyed having the option.

A quick after posting add on: You'll notice I don't have woolies on here in my list of things I've tried. There's a few reasons (and refers specifically to sheep wool): 1. I despise wool. Touching it makes me have to rub my hands on as many things as I can to get the sensation off (much like some people feel about microfiber). 2. I'm allergic and a lot of handling will lead to me breaking out. 3. Finally, most harvesters are horribly cruel to the sheep--leaving them bleeding and injured after. Obviously, this is absolutely unnecessary and as a result, I won't support the practice.

my most recent 'stash' pic, taken a couple years ago--yes, that's a black diaper!

As I look at building a stash for the baby on the way, pockets are high on my list, but I will certainly be looking for more AI2s.

* * *

Visit Natural Parents Network for the most up-to-date news on the Freedom of Cloth Carnival!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants on the following themes. Articles will go live on the scheduled theme day:

• Sunday, July 3rd, 2011: Cloth Related Recipes — Writers share their best cloth-related recipes and tutorials.


• Monday, July 4th, 2011: Choosing Your Cloth Style — Today’s posts discuss parents' individual journeys to finding the cloth diapering "style" that best suits their families.


• Tuesday, July 5th, 2011: Cloth Diapering Must Haves — Parents talk about the most important items in their diapering “stash” and why they love them.


• Wednesday, July 6th, 2011: Wordless Wednesday, Inspired by Cloth — We asked parents to share their favorite cloth-related photo with us and turned them into a fluffy Wordless Wednesday photo montage on Natural Parents Network. Link up your own Wordless Wednesday post there!


• Thursday, July 7th, 2011: Cloth Through the Stages: From Infancy to Potty Independence — Today’s participants explain how cloth diapering has served their families throughout one or more stages of their children’s lives.


• Friday, July 8th, 2011: Cloth Troubleshooting and Laundry Day — Seasoned cloth diapering parents share their best tips and tricks for handling common cloth problems and tackling the diaper laundry.


• Saturday, July 9th, 2011: Inspired by Cloth — For today’s theme, we’ve asked writers to explore the ways cloth diapering has inspired them to become "greener" overall.

Spirit Baby

stockxchng

In November, 2007, I lost a baby for the first time. It's one thing to worry about it happening and quite another to have it happen. I had good, compassionate friends who knew to not say any of the hurtful platitudes that people tend to say in their helplessness (hint: no one wants to hear how it could have been prevented, that it was inevitable, that their baby was anything other than a baby or that a dead baby could ever be 'for the best' -- please don't say any of these things to a grieving parent).

One person was even kind enough to share a story that helped with her own miscarriage, which I'm going to share here, for all the moms who might find comfort in it.

Spirit Baby (excerpt from The Baby Catcher)

Colin, my twelve-year-old son, discovered me late one rainy afternoon sitting at the kitchen table, a damp Kleenex crumpled in my left hand, wiping my eyes as I tried to compose myself for his sake. It was the third week of January, two months after I’d miscarried a pregnancy, but I still found it impossible to get through a day without at least one meltdown into misery.

...

Colin asked, "Are you crying about the baby?" and when I nodded tearfully, he said, "Well, you just have to have another one, Mom, because it’s a Spirit Baby, and you should be its mother."

I must have looked puzzled because he said, "Don’t you know about Spirit Babies? How could I know about them if you don’t? I mean, you’re my mom!" But he could see my perplexity.

So my first child, this not-yet-teenaged boy, pulled a wooden chair to my side and draped his thin arm across my shoulders, saying, "Well, Mom, here’s how it is. See, I was one myself, so that must be how I know. Anyway, every woman has a circle of babies that goes around and around above her head, and those are all the possible babies she could have in her whole life. Every month, one of those babies is first in line. If she gets pregnant, then that’s the baby that’s born. If she doesn’t get pregnant, the baby goes back into the circle and keeps going around with all the others. If she gets pregnant but something bad happens before the baby’s born…now listen, Mom, because here’s the really cool part. It goes back into the circle, but it becomes a Spirit Baby, and all the other babies give it cuts. Each month, it’s always first in line. Isn’t that great?

"So you just have to get pregnant again, and you’ll have the same Spirit Baby. If you don’t, though, then the baby circle will just beam that little Spirit Baby over to some other woman’s circle, and it’ll be first in line for her. It keeps being first in line somewhere until it finally gets born.

"But it’d be a shame for you not to have it yourself, because I know how much you want it. So you just have to try again. Mom, remember that baby you lost before I was born?" I nodded wordlessly. "Well, that was me. Really. I’ve always known I was a Spirit Baby. I mean, I know what I’m talking about here, Mom."

(the story goes on that several months later, she did finally decide to try again and conceived her 'spirit baby', for 'the joy of it'--to quote her ' tweenage' children)

Red Cabbage Gender Test

So, one of the more scientific old wives' tales out there for gender prediction is the red cabbage test. Intelligender is an expensive test you can waste $40 on that operates on the exact same principle--with less accurate results! The idea behind is is that red cabbage juice (made from boiling the chopped cabbage) is a pretty accurate test of pH. Kids even use it in school as an easy, cheap science experiment. First, how to do the test:

You get a head of red cabbage (size doesn't matter and I only used half a head), add water (I boiled it in a kettle, then set it on the burner) and boil it for 10 minutes. Take it off heat and go pee in a cup (I'd suggest using a clear plastic cup, but a glass works, too if you don't mind that it's had pee in it). Draw the blue-violet water out of the cabbage pot and measure it equal to the urine (I drew it with a coffee mug, let it cool, then added it to an identical clear cup and eyeballed the measurement side by side). Then add the cabbage water (which my husband called pot liquor, which amuses me, since he's from California and I'm from Missouri and never heard that term, but it's supposed to be a 'country' term) to the urine. Some places say to use a third cup, but there's no reason not to just pour the cabbage juice into the pee.

Now, you'll have a new color. A purple color indicates a girl result and a pink color (resembling cranberry juice) indicates a boy result.

So, this works to identify male urine versus female urine. The idea is that if you're carrying a boy, he will influence the pH of your pee. If you're carrying a girl, she can't influence it, since you're already a girl.

I am awaiting my ultrasound and am antsy to see my baby and find out the gender, so I finally broke down and bought a cabbage. This test is really recommended for 10-16 weeks (I assume because most people start finding out after that), but I'm 19, almost 20 weeks and couldn't wait anymore.

So, when my 4 year old daughter decided to use the toddler potty while I was using the main toilet, I snaked some of her pee off to test, so I have a control for "girl" as well as the control cabbage juice, of course.

First, I'll show a picture of this test someone else did (if you recognize your picture, please feel free to message me for credit!) with a control (left), girl's urine (middle) and boy's urine (right):

Okay, so here's my daughter's pee (right), next to the control (left):

And on its own, to get a shot of the purple color (the red square is my camera reflection):

Now, I didn't take pictures of my first test, because I was so eager to do it, it didn't occur to me, so I repeated the test later and got the same results (it made a LOT of juice!):

And close up on the color:

Now, since the test is supposed to be done with first morning urine (FMU), I took another test this morning--and the results were instantaneous this time and very clear:

Sorry about how bright they are--I just have a little point and shoot and this was the ideal distance to get their color--anything further away and they all looked almost black in the pictures and I wanted to use the raw pictures. I got a very clear 'boy' result. Will we be welcoming our first son in November?

For other old wives' tales, I've taken an online quiz that combines many of them (baby position, morning sickness, cravings, etc.) and got a 'boy' result; a heart rate predictor that used the average for gestation age instead of the overall pregnancy average: boy again. According to the Chinese gender prediction chart, this is a girl.

So, this was written on my birthday: June 17th. The rest of the blog will be written after my ultrasound, to find out if the test was accurate (as I find it frustrating to see these posts and not know if they were right or not!).


Well, my utrasound was today and according to the ultrasound--the red cabbage test is...

Wrong.

We're expecting a little girl in November!