my birth story

did it. posted a labour photo.

9 weeks into parenthood i am indulging in memories of that crazy experience. i say to myself quietly, often: 'if i can give birth at home i can do ANYTHING'.

i created this blog site when i was pregnant. i was home lots and inspired by so many sensual, joyful experiences standing in front of my tiny gas oven. the sights, smells (pregnancy made my sense of smell super strong), intentions and constant celebration. i felt so close to my growing baby whenever i was engulfed in the aroma's of cooking onions, meat and herbs. love food, had to write!


now i dont have two free hands to cook and it is my daily goal, by any means necessary, to be nourished so that i can nourish.




i want to write about giving life. now instead of standing at the stove i sit with ivy in my arms, feeding her mothers milk whenever she wants for as long as she wants.






birth story...







i had asked the baby in utero to please stay put until after friday march 5. i wanted to attend my friend Lauren's birthday dinner. lots of kicking, braxton hicks contractions and cervical mucous, birth was near. i didn't know that by that date adam and i both would be so charged with waiting that we would be nearly unravelling. that day we had an intense argument and both said things we didn't mean. what a mess, i thought. but realized we had a celebration to attend, so with eyes tired from tears we drove to the restaurant and hung out in the van for a while chasing the blues away, at least from plain sight. and then finally surrounded by friends, i sobered up emotionally.

that night i went to bed drained but looking forward to the 90 minute massage i'd booked for the following day.







saturday march 6, i woke up hungover from the emotional rollercoaster. i kissed adam adieu, sniffed some eucalyptus oil to clear my head, and walked my very pregnant body over to the massage clinic. i indulged in lots of foot, hip and back therapy, breathing through the more painful deep tissue massage that made me feel closer to the baby. my massage therapist was perfect for that day, excited for me yet professional, and graciously gave me an extra 20 mintues of his time. so i left the appointment exorcised.







called adam, he was exorcising is own shadows at stanley park. i met him there where he was dripping with sweat, skateboarding in the sun on a bridge with our camera, filming skate tricks for the video we were making together. the battery ran out 20 seconds prior to him landing the hardest trick of the day. bummer!







but the day was sunny and beautiful. we walked to the templeton on granville and had dinner. i ate fish and chips and my braxton hicks contractions were unusual and strong. we were sitting on stools and i stranddled mine for comfort. we werent alarmed just excited. we left, adam suggested we get home, feeling that the birth was coming soon.







we watched a movie and went to bed. my contractions woke me up early in the morning, about 7am on sunday March 7. i laid in bed next to adam as he slept, the tension in my belly intensifying and relaxing again and again. i was so elated to be 'in' labour, i just stayed put for a couple of hours enjoying the sensations in quiet solitude.







then i got out of bed and laid on our couch with our laptop to surf the internet. each time the tension in my belly increased i breathed and moaned, closed my eyes and kept going. adam heard me and from bed called to me, asking if i was okay. i most definitely was, i told him the deed was going down. go time.







in those morning hours we talked about what we needed to do. i remember going back to bed to snuggle and make out. we had heard that the hormone relaxin present in semen was helpful for labour. we would have made love anyway, but the relaxin benefit was that days pick up line!







time passed, contractions continued, they were more regular and about 5-8 minutes apart. a minute in length. i wrote down the times of about 20 to confirm my perception of the rhythm. i wanted to labour as long as possible alone with adam and as the strength of the contractions mounted i told him to inflate the birth pool. funny, there was a disclaimer he noticed that said it's recommended to inflate the pool well in advance of labour, oops. well, good thing he succeeded, i had shut myself into our stand up shower letting hot water fall on my low back. the contractions were strong and i was making sounds, the beginning of hours of 'ooohahhh'. in little time the pool was in working order in our super tiny living room, beside my birth altar where gifts and symbolic items were positioned for months. i didnt notice it during labour though. i took a few steps from the shower to the pool still shallow with warm water. but it was enough to decend my thighs and butt into, and i felt totally 'in labour' aka 'in exquisite pain'. we were still timing contractions, they were 5 minutes apart. that is when adam asked to take a couple photos, which i agreed to, that is the one above. looking back at the photo, i remember the tension in my belly as the muscle flexed and pushed low. it was a pain that i embraced, but definitely pain that i struggled with. i told myself that each contraction was one furthering me to birth, furthering my own life. and in that shallow plastic pool i felt proud. adam told me i looked like i knew what i was doing. i did and didn't.







about 5 hours had passed, and i moved to our bedroom floor by the bed. i leaned over the bed in my fluffy orange house coat and told adam to call the midwives. we needed to focus on the labour not the logistics of the space or unanswered questions. my intention had been to avoid the presence of any 'outsider' to this pregnancy and labour. i didn't know who of the four midwives that attended me would show up. when adam said that grace answered the phone i was relieved, she has a wise presence i liked a lot. and the call to her confirmed that i was accepting midwives at our birth, a choice that didnt feel pressured, which pleased me.







grace arrived with a student midwife jasmine that i really liked in earlier meetings, she had a gentle presence and was respectful. the two of them asked a few questions and settled into our little home, that somehow turned into a beautiful mess during the labour with stuff knocked over or cast aside. our three cats were busy as usual going in and out, the midwives were their personal door openers. the midwives worked to fill the pool, boiling big pots of water. jasmine watered down orange juice for me to sip through a straw. i asked questions when i wanted to, the midwives offered to check the heart rate regularly. i even let them do occasional cervical checks, these were not my pre-labour intentions but nonetheless, i felt comfortable and still myself. i hated the doppler but allowed it use during heartrate checks.







as the birth pool filled i leaned back, eyes closed and spoke in a voice almost not my own, through each contraction, telling myself that all people came into being through labour, that it must be possible, that i can continue, that i wouldn't die from the pain. i'd say out loud when i felt the contraction releasing, ending, triumphant. this pattern continued. the pool filled, pot by pot. i drank more and more water juice.


then the puking memories... i would vomit from the pressure and force mounting in my body, but i didnt feel sick. that mild juice actually tasted pretty good coming up, and i felt cleansed each time it happened. that puking actully helped me dilate!




i laboured on the toilet again and again, looking at my partner, telling him how much it hurt. adam reflected back my surreal experience. i remember feeling like he was my mirror reflection, though the calm one. he didnt feel my pain, but did feel some. we cried a little i think, but mostly confidently embraced each contraction. i'd never let him in the bathroom when i crapped before, so it was a milestone for our relationship!







back in the pool i remember adam slung over the side of the pool cradling me. mine was a weightless body suspended in each contraction, totally focused. grace sat for hours by that pool in our rocking chair, knitting, saying little while jasmine managed the water temperature. they answered emphatically 'yes' whenever i suprized myself in asking if what was happening was normal.







the water was so hot my temperature turned feverish. i felt chills whenever i left the water. i took a tylenol and rested in bed with adam. we napped between contractions, two minutes of rest for every minute of hard work. our siamese cat fluff laid on the foot of the bed, refusing to move for anyone... once even stretching to touch the student midwife on the rear end while she checked my cervix. it was hilarious.







hours were passing and my waters hadnt broken. my dilation stayed at 9cm. contractions were slowing down. the sun was rising on Monday March 8. everyone was exhausted and i was dehydrated. when midwife Lindsay came, i said farewell to grace and the student, and recieved an intravenous drip of water. it was cold couraing into my hand but my body soaked up the hydrating fluid. it was worth the hassle of adam having to hold the bag high behind me whenever i paced around our then cluttered birth cave.







my contractions were much less strong and suddenly there was some recognition that i could possibly require transfer to the hospital. no way in hell i was leaving my home peacefully, we all knew that so Lindsay suggested we get natural oxytocin flowing in me, and adam and i for the first time in so many hours laid in bed talking, kissing and touching my breasts. we walked in circles around the birth pool while Lindsay cooked up a high energy drink on the stove with aloe, ginger and honey she'd found in my cupboards. it must have been tricky for her to give us real privacy in our tiny home, but as i leaned on the edge of the birth pool in my housecoat, hips held from behind by adam, she all but disappeared, and the contractions got very strong again. it felt like an insane, low, butt pain.







she checked my cervix, 9 1/2 cms, so close and the head was coming down. i couldnt tell if i had 'the urge' to push, but i definitely wanted to do something about the pain in my butt. we talked about pushing, Lindsay would help the head pass down by manually holding the lip of my stretchy dilated cervix aside as i beared down. squatting on the side of the bed i moved through contractions with short, intense pushes, making some harsh noise. when i held the harsh noise inside and sent it down into my butt, i really felt progress. lindsay told me i could reach inside to feel the head, it wasnt smooth like i expected, it was a bunch of skin folds, weird! soon squatting felt too intense, so i laid on my side on our bed. surreal, the room somehow went from nighttime dark to mid morning light and for 45 mins i pushed during contractions to bring that head out, truly the most insane, mind blowing, brutal feeling i never could have predicted. the baby's head slipped in and out not yet seeing the light of day, i irrationally feared it would slip way back. adam and the midwives roooted for me and i even remember screaming that birth is impossible, i cant do it! but with one leg in the air, supported by a second midwife, and warm cloth on my perineum, the baby crowned. with several contractions i tried to slowly push the head out. with my hands i felt the head, a wrinkly little bulge at first, passing over my tissues, pulling them to their limit. i remember adam crying which was a good sign! my clitoris felt stretched, a crazy pain! with a final push the shoulders passed and baby was completely out, crying for 5 or 6 seconds, put immediately on my belly. i remember saying 'its so big!', and feeling shock that an actual baby was what all this work was for.





baby was pink and soft, quiet and warm. adam told me that we did it, we had a gentle birth. i was so intensely stoked, pleased and proud. i instinctively brought the baby to my breast and was shocked that the little mouth opened and sucked. we layed there skin to skin in awe and delight while midwives did less pleasant stuff like chord traction to remove the placenta, belly rubbing to firm up the uterus and prevent hemmorage, an oxytocin shot in the leg that i agreed to, and pressure on tissues to examine for tearing. no injuries, not stitches, i felt triumphant and relieved. we were so ecstatic we didnt think to check for the sex for what must have been half and hour, so when i thought of it, i put my hand under the recieving blanket and touched the little vulva. we had a little girl on international womens day, pretty cool.





the midwives did some brieft cleaning, putting tonnes of laundry and garbage into two huge plastic bags. then they were gone and the three of us could be together, laying in bed. at some point adam went at my request to get poutine from the corner shop, and i began building back my strength. i was pale somewhat and soft in the belly, my chest hurt from the lack of pressure on my lungs that had been exerted by my massive uterus.





this is my recollection of events. i am so pleased at how we birthed Ivy Ellen, 29 hours and no pain medication, and the true feeling of respect and control throughout the experience. adam and i shared the most intimate experience possible and i love him beyond words! i appreciate the help of all the four midwives, and not least, the calm, cool presence of my special spiritual doula - the siamese :)











XO

placenta

Welcome to the world Ivy Ellen!

The birth was just how we wanted it, at home! One of the innumerable benefits of a home birth is that the next time you open the fridge you find the ziplock'd placenta the midwives stored before they promptly exited.

Here is my method, advised by midwife Corrina, on how to dehydrate the placenta for vitamin and hormone packed capsules that Ivy and I can take as needed for years to come.

First photo: washing the placenta. This is the side of the placenta that was attached to the uterus.

Second photo: This is the 'shiny' side of the placenta, with the vascularization and umbilical chord.

Third photo: Checking out the membranes, also known as the amniotic sac. To be removed.

Fourth photo: Umbilical chord! To be removed. I coiled it and baked it to preserve it.

Fifth photo: Preparing the steam bath for the placenta, add cayenne pepper, fresh lemon and two slices of ginger to water in a steamer pot.

Sixth photo: Steam shiny side down first and then flip, done cooking when it no longer bleeds when poked with a fork.

Seventh photo: Smells good! Cut the cooked placenta into thin slices to be baked at the lowest possible temperature in the oven for many hours. Mine took 6 hours. Remove when crispy.

Eighth photo: Put the pieces into a coffee grinder and pulverize until a smooth powder is made. Then fill "double zero" gelatin capsules 3 quarters full with the powder.

carmelized onions

for the record, i've got ukranian blood running through my veins. this is about to become obvious to you :)
this recipe is essential for anyone who likes cheap food to taste expensive. and who likes to send a message to the whole neighborhood that 'good food is made by us'.

all you need are two bags of yellow onions, about 10-14 medium sized ones in total. some cheap true bc white wine (not imported grapes misleadingly bottled in the okanagan). i bought white bear. vinegary but $12 and will do a decent deglaze. grapeseed oil, good for frying. sea salt.



here's a tip for chopping onions and not crying. cut off both ends first, then scoop out the 'eye' where the roots grow out. this is where the chemical that makes you cry comes from.

hack up about 4 onions, start cooking them at med-high heat with salt until they sweat. keep chopping meanwhile. incorporate an onion at a time, sprinkle with salt, until your skillet is jammed full. stir regularly so they don't burn, reduce heat once everything is softening. you'll notice that's the point when the onions start to stick to the pan. just add a few liberal dashes of the cheap white wine and no more sticky.


here's a photo adam took of the barefoot and pregnant cook. what you can't see is the sesame street record he was playing at the time. i wasn't into it at first..... but then, very strangely and hormonally, i suddenly was. wow.




back to the onions. stir every 5 minutes so they don't stick. cook them until they're deep, carmel brown. and mushy.

if you want, let cool and put in the food processor for a paste. store in a jar, refrigerated. stays for weeks.

this stuff is great with any meat, bread, sandwich, or a seasoning for soups, sauces and dressings. it's sweet, savoury, cheap, goes a long way, simple, definitely one of my favorite foods.

i'll be putting this stuff on a huge baked flatbread with smoked mozza and fresh basil for the vegetarians at my mother blessing this weekend.

oh god yea.

LL

borscht

these last few days my cravings for sweets have been through the roof, and i've joined adam as a night shifter once again. i can't sleep, too excited waiting for this amazing baby!



how to stay grounded, stay healthy?



the mother of all soups. borscht. this stuff is the best.



my grampa once made my brother and me pick the ingredients out of the garden, then he made us a batch. this concept blew my golfer, banker brothers mind. awesome.






until the summer grows me some beets out in the parking lot back yard soon to be transformed by me and my kid, i settled for four big red beets from the store, red potatoes, carrots, celery, onion, garlic and dill. cheap cheap.


sweated that onion and garlic in grapeseed oil. added salt, fresh ground pepper. added 2 stalks celery, then carrots and potatoes, all cubed. cooked at medium heat for 4 or 5 mins.









then my adam who shares the kitchen as dishwasher today helps make a broth. this man is serious about dishes, he was a professional and takes pride in his work. it's cute. so, i asked him to take a break from scrubbing and add 4 cups of (non-dish) water to my veggies. bring to slow boil.

then comes the BEAUTIFUL fully jelled chicken foot stock that i made earlier in the week (seen in the yoghurt container). about two cups of this stuff will make any soup taste amazing and heal your soul from the inside. my stock actually makes our skin softer, and i get a buzz off it sometimes when it's really fresh. yea, recipe coming soon.






i added cup or so of red wine, silly me, forgot to add it earlier as a deglaze. ah well. brought to a boil, added peeled, cubed beets. then simmered for over an hour while i parked my pregnant butt on the couch with the kitties.



when the broth is blood red and veggies are soft, it's time to dish out this wicked stuff. sprinkle with TONNES of fresh dill. repeat, as much DILL as you can afford. the more the better.



enjoy scrubbing that lovely red off the dishes, and expect a period the next time you deuce!






love,


flood family!

yam pie

aka. how to make the house smell cozy.

i'm feeling a little depressed today, if only because i'm getting used to my maternity leave. it's harder than one would expect to end the rat-race and always hauling my pregnant butt to a full time job in the downtown east side. now with the time to BREATHE and THINK, go figure, my adrenal glands aren't totally worn out with the tension of other peoples problems. i reckon, this low feeling is just me shifting gears. that's my new mom brain figuring stuff out!

here's how to properly cook on a vancouver rainy day.

start, roast three big organic yams un-peeled, chopped. tossed in grape-seed oil. put some water in the bottom of the roasting pan for steaming. an hour max, 350 degrees. until they're getting soft.

let them cool in a covered bowl for half and hour, to soften them more. meanwhile, make the pastry.

half a stick (or slightly more) of cold butter. YUM. cut into cubes in a cold bowl. sift unbleached white flour gradually, mashing into butter with a whisk. keep adding flour and mashing until there is a meal, grains of flour coated butter chunks smaller than corn kernels. add a few tablespoons of cold water and knead lightly until the meal makes a ball. wrap in wax paper, stick in fridge.

mash up the yams using a fork. it'll take a while but oh well, it is a good action for working out emotion. i felt better after doing it, i promise, so will you. mix the mushy yams with half a cup of goat milk, a free range egg, some melted butter, cinnamon, fresh nutmeg (tonnes, it smells like heaven) and bunch of brown sugar. DOUBLE YUM.

then roll out the pastry ball on the floured counter. keep rolling, folding with flour so it doesn't stick, until the pastry is easy to handle and will overlap the pie plate.

chill pastry lined plate 10 mins, go pet the kitties. return and add the filling.

roll a nice crust, sprinkle with a tonne of brown sugar. bake 350 for as long as it takes to golden the crust.

cool to set. smell the love. when the time is right, eat that yam pie! make a cream cheese sauce if you really want to lose your damn mind.

LANA*

mustard wings

hello and hello!

welcome to the first installment of the new flood family food blog, a place for photos and words about stuff that comes out of our kitchen.

i call this the quitters guide to eating. adam and i made a baby in june and are getting ready to push it out in march. the last 33 weeks have left a lot of addictions behind and added healthy pounds to both of us. i recommend that everyone replace garbage in their lives with delicious, inspired, indulgent food. lots of it!

tonights dinner.

non-medicated chicken wings from famous foods market, marinated for two days in bc white wine, hot mustard, olive oil, salt and fresh ground pepper. these babies drank up almost the entire marinade, and went into the oven puffy and soft with flavour. i baked them for an hour or so at around 350 degrees. didn't have to flip them. took them out when they gained a crispy red crust. let those sweeties cool for 30 mins.

made a tomato, cucumber, sunflower seed, cracked black pepper salad. lemon juice, grape-seed oil (i'm out of our $30 a bottle olive oil), apple cider vinegar and salt.

toasted up those cool wings in the warm oven, then tossed them in a sauce of one part honey to three parts dijon mustard, and black pepper, cornstarch, salt to taste.

plated. ate-ed.

now off to the hidden jazz venue 1067 to see adams band Yellowthief play.

peace!