A Taboo Topic

I know. I'm going from cute kid fluff to serious topics and it's scary, but this has been weighing on me all summer. A friend told another friend who thought she might be pregnant not to tell anyone, not anyone, until she's at least 3 months along. Why? Two reasons, it is considered bad luck and/or she might miscarry.

Right. IMHO this is specifically a reason TO share and share early. How are we supposed to support each other otherwise?

She and many others miscarry their babies. Not having shared the possible joy they can not share their grief. It is isolating and heartbreaking to face such a huge thing alone, likely over and over again. One of my virtual blogger friends is blogging about this right now. How very brave of her. She's facing the added emotional facet of running an Internet business that caters to custom made baby things. Can you even imagine how hard this must be for her? Also, knowing that others have had loss doesn't help. It doesn't lessen the fear, pain, and the heartbreak.

I cried reading her posts. It really got me wondering why the topic is so taboo and where it got its roots, but I couldn't find anything. I did find this:

Besides the feeling of loss, a lack of understanding by others is often important. People who have not experienced a miscarriage themselves may find it hard to empathize with what has occurred and how upsetting it may be. This may lead to unrealistic expectations of the parents' (plural) recovery. The pregnancy and miscarriage are hardly mentioned anymore in conversation, often too because the subject is too painful. This can make the woman feel particularly isolated.

Interaction with pregnant women and newborn children is often also painful for parents who have experienced miscarriage. Sometimes this makes interaction with friends, acquaintances and family very difficult.

I found this on a comment section of A Little Pregnant:

There's an unreasonable taboo against talking about infertility and miscarriage. I learned that the hard way after having a grisly 2nd-trimester miscarriage in 2002. Since I'd had such a public miscarriage -- I'd gone from having a noticeable pregnant belly complete with kicking baby inside to being flat-stomached and irrepressibly weepy -- many friends came up to me with stories of miscarriages and fertility problems I never knew they'd had. Friends. Good friends. People I'd seen naked, for godsakes, and they'd never dared to speak about their miscarriages until I had mine......I just can't understand why it's considered OK for mothers to discuss baby poop blowouts and how many stitches they got in the perineum after labor, and yet we're still shy about talking about pregnancy failure.

I found another passage that linked the shame of pregnancy loss to the fathers and that historically it was looked at as their failure. That's why it was shameful to speak of it historically. So why are we still holding on to that?

I don't understand. If a friend of mine were suffering I would want to know and I would want to help, not that there is anything at all anyone can do. I can't think of the right things to say to end these thoughts.

A Lovely Day Out, Dusty, but Lovely

We had an absolutely lovely day. We met LifeDreamed L. and her little man in person. We played hard at the farm. We enjoyed the company of friends and friendship that is offered without clauses. It was really lovely.

Actually, it's been a week like this, but that's for another blog. This one is just for the fun pictures of my Lil'Bug helping at the farm.

List of things she got to do:
Feed the pigs slops, haul firewood, pull kernels off of corncobs, sweep a utility room, gather eggs, feed chickens (ice-cream grass), print a poster note, wash her hands with lye soap, scrape bison hide, ride the horse drawn omni-bus, play, play, and oh yeah....play!

Random Question Meme

Don over at Gookins presented an opportunity for a meme and how could I pass it up?
Here are his questions and my answers:

1. Since you are an English instructor, your first question is in traditional essay question format. Compare and contrast teaching college students to homeschooling your daughter.
Lil'Bug isn't jaded yet. That's the only contrast.

Ok, seriously... My classroom is an refuge sometimes for many of the students that walk through my door. I don't lecture and I don't teach. They teach, they learn, they help each other. I provide them with tools, hold their hands, and facilitate their discoveries. Oh, I grade and deal with red tape, but they pick the subjects to write about, they ask questions, I show them how to find the answers (even if I know the answer). It is as close to unschooling as a classroom can be. They leave my class with skills not just obligatory grades on paper. I also don't fail students who are willing to work and learn. If a student wants to revise over and over to get a better grade they have an extended time to do so. Learning comes from failing, not just from getting it right the first time. I can blog about some of the exercises I do that are interactive and student led if you like. It is exactly my approach to Lil'Bug. I encourage my students to find their passion and write about that. I "teach" process not content. It is way harder than the talking head/textbook model that I was (mostly) taught with in college. I model it after history teachers I had at Drake...they would take us outside and let us dig tranches with historical artifacts to learn about WWI, bring in food when discussing the royalty of France and their attempted escape across the French countryside, and we read Shakespeare with maps and special effects. It was way cool.

2. You are stranded on a desert island and can choose 5 books to keep with you; what would they be?
The Complete Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy
The Complete Sherlock Holmes
The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection From the Living Dead (it was a toss up between this and the Army Survival Manual, but zombies won out. Same stuff plus bonus material on, well, zombies....)
The volume of the Theodore Sturgeon collection that has the short novella "Bright Music"
The Cajun to English dictionary: what better time to learn my ancestors language than when stranded on a desert island!

3. What’s in your CD player (or on your iPod) right now? Madness: the Peel Sessions

4. You’re restoring an old house. What is it about older houses that you prefer over new ones?
Materials, craftsmanship, and artistry. I love that the carpenter, an anonymous worker, left his mark in so many ways that when I go into another local house I can tell if it was the same guy. I love that the house shaped the lives of its inhabitants in so many eras including me and vice versa. I love how every detail has a purpose and reason: the transoms control droughts, the step that squeals, the old cistern, etc. Every detail also leads to a story. I love that the stories can lead us to common experience and demonstrate in real ways how history and major events affect people at home. I wrote my thesis on this theme. I can talk about it for hours, days, years on end. I've only been in a few homes built with as much detail and quality material and care that were built new. Even if I someday build a new house we will use salvaged architectural material.

5. Your pick. Choose at least one of the following questions:
-What was your most embarrassing moment?
When I was a new mom and just learning to breastfeed (and still on Percoset) I didn't button my shirt up properly (meaning, no undergarments and gaping open wide). I went the whole afternoon shopping and ended up at my MIL's. They said nothing either, but my MIL offered me a new winter coat. When I went to try it on I noticed. I was terribly embarrassed. They were kind enough to say nothing, but I cried the whole way home. I have a couple others that made the final list, but that was the most.
-If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
I would have purple hair, the same colour it was when DH and I were married in 1999.
-If you could have a superpower, what would it be?
Elemental. I would love to have Storm's abilities. Sometimes a good thunderstorm would come in handy.
-If you could be any animal, what would it be?
Kestrel.

Wanna play too?
The Rules of the Meme:

1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like [the title and artist of the song stuck in your head or a food that you cannot eat because it grosses you out]. Something random. Whatever you like.
2. I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions.

How I know?

At a recent playgroup/picnic a fellow mom stepped on a bee. She couldn't get the stinger out and was in a lot of pain. I'm good at crisis (just not the hello and how are you part). What did we have on hand to help? I had nail clippers and lemon juice and ice (I bring that for Lil'Bug and me to drink instead of plain water).

So after introducing myself through performing stinger extraction on a stranger's foot, someone asked, "How did you know that would help?"

Well, it's a long story. Most if it is common sense: ice reduces swelling, reduced swelling makes the stinger easier to get out. Lemon juice is a natural astringent and would soften the spot by moisture. I did use tweezers that someone brought and not the nail clippers for the final bit.

But I have removed many burs and slivers from farm animals. That's really it. I've been thinking about this over the weekend. I know most of what I do about life from the summers on my aunt's ranch. I studied her EMT manuals because I wanted to be a trauma surgeon. EMT's do basic field triage. The animals would be freaked out when you were treating them, extracting a tick or splinter, etc.

But everyday learning was more diverse than just that. My uncle taught me about engine repair and chemistry. Over dinner we'd discuss world history and politics. My aunt was a collector of many things and the history of things often made them more valuable. She also collected acres. I would spend the mornings after chicken chores exploring those woods, gullies, and pastures. I found a petrified stump once and upon returning to school the science teacher informed me that I could not have found such a thing in rural eastern Colorado. He called me a liar. It's not like I could even lift the thing to bring it out of the woods. My family knew it was there. They verified what it was. That was enough, but it was also enough to squelch my enthusiasm for science classes and teachers. Later I learned that it was likely a petrified palm tree. Another farmer found it (or one near it) and hauled it in to the Natural History Museum in Denver.

But really, how do I know what I know? I retain a lot of what seem like useless trivia but I can't for the life of me remember the names of most of the new people I met. What good outside of academia is knowing the bazillion proper uses for commas? (Oh, not in my own writing of course...my brain shuts off grammar when I am writing; gah.)

But when asked the question...I shrugged my shoulders and mumbled something about animals on the farm.

Think that's the end of it? Oh no, my friends, I spent the next couple weeks studying the life cycle of the Iowa wasps. How to control them, kill them, what makes them tick, what the chemistry is behind their stings, even wasp anthropology (though I think that's the wrong term).

Now I know these additional things: any meat tenderizing agent (vinegar, lemon juice, orange juice, etc.....oh, and meat tenderizer) will neutralize the sting venom; aggressive male drones will all die with the winter freeze (read, do not feel guilty killing them unless you plan to use poison); and smoke will stun/daze them. I also now know that if one demonstrates sufficient interest in such a small matter as keeping park day wasp free, one gets designated official beekeeper and must dig out the smoker from the apiary supplies. So much for social skills, eh?