Li’l Sphere, born February 9, 2005 at approximatel…

Li’l Sphere, born February 9, 2005 at approximately 7 pm.

My son weighed 8 lbs even and measured 21 inches. His mom thought she was having Braxton-Hicks contractions when I picked her up at work at 3 pm. We got to the birthing center at 5:30 pm and our boy was born at about 7 pm (I’m still not sure about the time). He had his umbilical cord wrapped twice around his neck, and his mom was going through labor incredibly fast, so she had to push him out as fast as possible. It took her all of four (maybe five) excruciatingly hard pushes. That was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen, and it all seemed like a dream for hours afterwards. We went home at 2 am.

Books read recently: none.DVDs viewed recently: T…

Books read recently: none.
DVDs viewed recently: The Battle of Algiers (which should be mandatory viewing for high school students in these United States), The Wild Bunch,* Princess Mononoke, a few episodes from Buffy Season Two, the first half of Fishing With John.
TV shows caught recently: Veronica Mars, which may not be up to the standards of The Wire, but remains the best thing on network tv since they cancelled Buffy and Angel. The acting and writing have been excellent overall, and the pacing is typically brilliant. That said, casting Allyson Hannigan as a self-obsessed celebrity-whore sub-Baywatch child-of-famous-actors was incredibly poor casting (unlike the casting of Paris Hilton as a vacuous rich-bitch ninny in an early episode this season, a role in which Hilton shockingly excelled). Hannigan came across as Stoned Willow, and her character will sadly return.

* Although I’m not sure if Li’l Sphere loved the shootout at Agua Verde; he seemed a bit fussy about Pike’s death. I explained that the entire scene was both a redemption and the best possible closure for that character, considering that his pipe dreams of settling down were all but impossible for a man like him, but I think Li’l Sphere found certain aspects of the violence more exciting than appalling, which disturbed him. I suggested that it was meant to be both. Li’l Sphere spit up on me in reply. Touché, young man.

Since my last post, I’ve finished Fishing With Joh…

Since my last post, I’ve finished Fishing With John, the best fishing show ever, and watched the entire Wonderfalls series and the first disc of Firefly.

Fishing With John grew out of John Lurie’s home tapes of fishing trips. The premise is simple: Lurie goes fishing with some celebrity in some semi-exotic location. Although it’s somewhat of a documentary style, the show takes obvious and usually fun liberties with the truth, and, best of all, Lurie & his guest rarely actually catch fish. It’s worth it to see (1) Jim Jarmusch, decked out in Manhattan nightlight black, trying to land a shark off of Long Island, (2) Tom Waits completely lose his cool persona to seasickness on a rusty tugboat in Jamaica (according to the commentary, Waits didn’t speak with Lurie for two years afterwards), (3) Matt Dillon — well, that one’s pretty but not much happens, apparently because Dillon didn’t want to lose his persona on camera, (4) Willem Defoe trying to convince Lurie to zip their sleeping bags together while ice-fishing in Maine, and (5) Dennis Hopper being Dennis Hopper in Thailand.

Wonderfalls: I watched three of the episodes when they aired on TV (it was cancelled after the fourth) and found the show kinda flat at the time. This DVD collects all of the episodes filmed, most of which were never aired. At least one review said that even if it had been allowed to finish its season, the show would never have caught on, anyway. That might be true, but it also might not. The show grew intensely upon me during the course of these DVDs, starting right about at the fourth episode and going straight through to the end. Let me start with the look of the show: it’s easily the most beautifully shot TV show I’ve ever seen, with bright, saturated colors, sharp lines, and fantastic angles. The writing: although there’s mack truck-sized plot holes in the first few episodes (and a few dangling in later episodes), the writers gave the characters intense life and honest relationships. It’s also funny and curious enough to be worth a watch. At the end of these 13 episodes, I have no idea where the writers could take the story further, but, that said, Tim Minear and Ben Edlund (both of Angel, the former of Firefly, and the latter of The Tick) are very good at pulling rabbits out of hats, tv-series-wise, and I’m sure they and the other writers & producers could have managed to astound us if given half a chance. Unfortunately, Fox only gave them 4/13th of one.

Firefly (similarly cancelled before its time) also watches better in order (Fox showed them out of order for some reason) thus far. Sure, it has plot holes, too, but it also has a keen imagination and wit that should have been given a chance to flourish. Whither the network equivalent of HBO?

Following up on my post from before my kid’s birth…

Following up on my post from before my kid’s birth on natural childbirth, I want to talk a wee bit about our experience with the Austin Area Birthing Center (henceforth known as AABC).

The AABC solicited a birth story from us for their website and birth book (which sits out in the lobby for mothers-to-be to read). However, they felt that the story, which will follow this brief diatribe, was too negative and refuse to print the story without editing it. We won’t allow that. As you’ll see in the story, our experience was mostly positive, but there were some dangerous moments, and we believe that those moments, as terrifying as they are now for me to remember, should remain. If we had been in a hospital, I’m positive that they would have insisted on an emergency Caesarian for the simple reason that a C-section has known, somewhat controllable risks. At AABC, C-section was not an option, and we’re happy that we had the natural, drug-free childbirth we wanted and that everything worked out well, with no small thanks to the AABC staff. I think that the risks associated with our natural childbirth and the risks if we had been pushed into a C-section (especially considering the point at which the staff identified the problem) would have been roughly the same for our son: potential brain damage, potential death (just writing this takes my breath away). With a C-section, my wife would have had to undergo major abdominal surgery as well.

However, as in the birth story, the AABC staff handled the situation admirably, and we have a healthy and flat-out stunning little boy. My wife has healed over time at a quicker rate than she would have if recovering from a C-section. We couldn’t have asked for a sweeter experience.

But apparently the threat to our child is not something AABC wants to share with people. Perhaps this makes sense from a business standpoint, but not from the standpoint of being upfront and truthful with mothers-to-be. They should know that there are risks associated with natural childbirth, just as there are risks associated with medicated and/or Caesarian childbirth.

I have two other quibbles with AABC: first, they screwed up their estimate for the cost of the birth by not including our deductible and failing to submit two expensive lab tests to our insurance provider. This isn’t that big of a deal (I mean, yes, it’s a big deal in terms of how it’s affected our budget, but they’re just human, after all), but it is frustrating that they are unwilling to figure out how they messed up and apparently haven’t put much work into the intricacies of dealing with our insurance company (BCBS of TX, by the way, not just a fly-by-night) so that there would be no problem here on the back end. I mean, their explanation is that the insurance company has hidden allowable costs. Well, actually, providers can learn about the allowable costs by calling in advance and that’s not the problem here. Second quibble: AABC needs to learn how to recommend working with pre- and postpartum doulas, rather than discouraging it, as they did with us. We would have greatly benefited from bringing in a postpartum doula immediately, rather than 3-4 weeks later. AABC provides a postpartum nurse, but, bless her heart, she ran through the information about how to take care of our new critter quickly, and it’s safe to say that we were a bit dazed anyway. An on-hand lactation consultant would be a smart move for AABC, too.

But those are relatively minor quibbles. We are happy with our choice to go with them for Li’l Sphere’s birth, and very sorry to learn that they choose to view our birth experience in our own words as undeserving to be associated with them. With no further ado, here is that birth story, as written by the lovely, amazing, and brilliant Mrs. Obscurity. Besides us, the remaining cast is Jean, the owner of AABC, Kristen and Michele, our wonderful birth team, Rosewitha, our postpartum nurse, and Joan, another very helpful nurse midwife at AABC.

The Story of Li’l Sphere’s Precipitous Birth
By his mother

Not long before I delivered, I read Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin, who has been a nurse midwife for 30 years. It inspired me to see natural childbirth as doable, that despite differing circumstances and experiences women can and do deliver healthy children naturally in an environment that is empowering to both the woman and her family. It was just the thing I needed to get “pumped upâ€Â for the birth. In the spirit of that book I am going to tell you all of the details of the birth so that you will see that you too can do it, and if you have given birth yourself, that others have shared in some of your experiences.

On the day of his birth, I was taking a class at work. During a bathroom break at about 9:45am, I noticed that my mucous plug came out, but I continued taking the class, despite having very mild contractions. I called my husband around noon to update him and told him that I’d let him know when the contractions got closer together. I finally had him come to get me at 3:00. We went home, took a walk around the neighborhood, and then decided it was time to go to the birthing center. We got to the birthing center at 5:30. Michele Fitzgerald, a midwife, and Kristin Elliott, a doula and midwife trainee, told me that I was 3 cm dilated (for you uninitiated, your cervix opens gradually and you are able to push the baby out when you are 10 cm dilated), but Michele pushed on the cervix a bit and it went to 4 cm, meaning that the baby was definitely on his way.

Although Jean was originally supposed to work that evening, she was just leaving after a birth that morning when we arrived. The staff decided that Kristin could monitor me while Michele got dinner, and Michele could attend my labor when she returned. They ran a bath for me to labor in, but it was not for me. I could not get comfortable. I preferred being able to walk and to hang onto something during the contractions, which, by the way, really didn’t hurt. They were all-consuming feelings, and I had to pay attention to them, but they weren’t painful. It is hard to explain, but the pain was minor.

At one point, I felt nauseous and told Kristin that I was going to throw up, which I promptly did. I remember thinking, “oh well, there goes those yummy chile rellenos I had for lunch!â€Â (Yes, that is gross, sorry!) My water broke as I was throwing up.

Things took a turn afterwards. Kristin asked me to lie down on my left side because “the baby would like it better.â€Â I really appreciate how Kristin handled that because I knew enough to know that the baby’s heart rate must have gone down if she was asking me to lay on my left side. She gave me oxygen and I thought, “oh crap, this isn’t good,â€Â but Kristin was calm, saying, “this will give the baby a boost.â€Â I am grateful for Kristin’s calm demeanor. The contractions were really uncomfortable on the bed because I could not move much and perhaps because my water had broken.

About that time Michele came in and checked my cervix. I was at 9 cm dilated, but because the baby’s heart rate was dropping so low (I think I remember hearing that it went to ½ what it should be) she pushed the cervix out to 10 cm and told me that it was time to “get that baby out.â€Â I pushed a couple of times, during which I guess the baby’s heart rate went even lower because she pulled me around and gave me an episiotomy (which is a cut to enlarge the vaginal opening). She apologized but I could tell that her concern was to get the baby delivered sooner than later so that she could be sure it was healthy and OK.

I was in a “whatever it takesâ€Â mode as well because I could tell from her intensity that she was concerned/scared. I was too, but didn’t have time to focus on that emotion.

I think I tried to push again on the bed, but that was not working. Michele got me to squat wide, put breast pumps on my breasts to increase the contractions, and told my husband to simulate the breast pumps with his mouth (heh). I pushed really hard probably three times and she told me not to “tea pot itâ€Â because I was letting my air out as I pushed. Then she said “this is it. Get that baby out now. Hold your breath and push.â€Â I heard her tell Kristin to get some “pitâ€Â shots ready, which I knew was pitocin, a drug that increases contractions and is reportedly very unpleasant. So, darn it, I was going to get that baby out. I hugged Michele as I squatted wide and I heard her say, “this is it! I can see brown hair!â€Â and she and Kristin said “push past the hurt!â€Â I could hear my husband holding his breath as I held mine. All of a sudden I felt the baby come out and my husband pulled me back onto the bed as Michele had instructed him to. He was on his back, and I was on my back on his stomach. Then all of a sudden I had a really warm blob on my lower abdomen. My eyes were still closed from pushing so hard. I remember saying, “help me I’m going to drop it.â€Â Then I could hear Michele say, “look what you haveâ€Â as she held the baby up closer to my face. I opened my crusty eyes and said “it’s a baby!â€Â then she kind of pointed to his genitals and I said “it’s a boy!â€Â (OK folks, birthing is tiring!) I had Li’l Sphere at 7 PM.

Michele and Kristin were so sweet and got my husband and me focused on the baby as the placenta was delivered and as she sewed me up. They were so positive and congratulatory and told me what a good job I did.

After they left and the postpartum nurse, Rosewitha, came and helped me to the bathroom I noticed that I pushed so hard I had broken blood vessels on my face, chest, and back, which looked like a rash and didn’t hurt at all. It was still surprising to see though, and totally unexpected. Rosewitha even pointed out that I had broken a blood vessel in the corner of my eye. I really did push hard!!!

The birthing center has a nice postpartum atmosphere. There were candles lit in the fireplace and the surroundings were soothing. As we were laying in the bed together as a new family my husband remembered to put on an Etta James song that I had been fixating on for the past few weeks, and only discovered the name of it the night before. Luckily he had burned it on the “birthing CDâ€Â just that day. I hugged my baby and listened to the lyrics and just cried. It is a beautiful song, and I could certainly feel the “at lastâ€Â part. Intense labor and postpartum are certainly dreamlike and surreal in many ways, and the song captured that perfectly.

“At Lastâ€Â by Etta James.


At last

My love has come along
My lonely days over
And life is like a song

Ooh, at last
The skies above are blue
Well my heart was wrapped up in clover
The night I looked at you

I found a dream
That I could speak to
A dream that I could call my own
I found a thrill
To press my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known

Well

You smile
you smile
Oh and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine at last

I am full of gratitude that Michele was concerned enough about Li’l Sphere to help me to get him out quickly. She was thoroughly professional the whole way, and empathetic enough not to let a stressful birth be stressful afterwards. It turns out that his cord was wrapped around his neck twice, and because he descended so quickly it was squeezing him. Luckily, his Apgar scores were 8 at one minute and 9 at five minutes. (Apgar scores quickly evaluate a newborn’s physical condition after delivery and to determine any immediate need for extra medical or emergency care. Scores of 8 and 9 are good.) I pushed him out so fast that he had a colorless bruise on his head from my pubic bone.

I want to leave you mothers-to-be with a few words of advice. I was sorer than I thought I’d be. Eleven days after the birth I finally was feeling back to normal, so expect that as a possibility. I would advise having a lactation consultant come to your home within 2-3 days after birth. It will help a lot! Also, I can tell you that a postpartum doula would have made our early days with our son more joyful and less stressful, even though my mother was here to help.

The birthing center staff was excellent after we went home too. We called a few times and talked with Kristen, Michele, and Joan, who was very helpful with advice and perspective from her own births and children. All were generous with assistance and advice, something I had not expected postpartum, but I very much appreciate.

Thanks, Austin Area Birthing Center! We are glad we chose your facility and staff to help bring our son into the world.

The Graham Gouldman Thing

In the mid-1960s Graham Gouldman was a one-man Goffin/King or Boyce & Hart. The British musician and songwriter wrote perfect pop songs that were totally of their time, and which were popularized by other, better-known acts. Gouldman penned the two best songs The Hollies ever recorded (“Bus Stop” and “Look Through Any Window”) two of the better tracks done by The Yardbirds (“For Your Love” and “Heart Full of Soul”) and also provided material for Herman’s Hermits, P.J. Proby, Wayne Fontana . . .

In ’68 Gouldman – who had previously been part of two different bands, both of them flops – decided it was time to put his own versions of some of his songs on record. John Paul Jones (Francoise Hardy’s playmate, and later bassist of Led Zeppelin) was brought on board as arranger and co-producer. Some top-of-the-line sessions musicians took up instruments. And Gouldman sat down and cobbled together a workbook of songs that had been hits for other artists, as well as some new and previously unrecorded material.

What came out is a record that should be generally regarded as a Mod-era classic, right alongside The Beatles’ Rubber Soul, The Kinks’ Face to Face, and early recordings by The Who, as well as the afore-mentioned Hollies and Yardbirds. But the album wasn’t even released in Gouldman’s native land, and only managed to hit the lower reaches of the Billboard Top 100 in the U.S.

The artist/band Gouldman most sounds like on this record is Emitt Rhodes and The Merry-Go-Round. Gouldman the vocalist has a lisp, and he sings in that almost girlish way that Rhodes does. The arrangements and the production of the material on The G.G. Thing are bubblegumy poppy, a la The Merry-Go-Round – that kind of bubblegum where Pure Pop meets Mod Cool.

Gouldman later become a member of The Mindbenders, before the 70s saw him and another Mindbender form 10CC. Later into the 70s he did the soundtrack to the Farrah Fawcett movie, Sunburn.

In 2004 BMG reissued The Graham Gouldman Thing, and anybody who’s into 60’s Mod pop should thank them. It is one of the best records of its kind.

Leftovers

Which, I guess, is what you’d call things larger than crumbs…

***

First, of course, there’s the story of the Burden of History Santas. Now that these despicable objects have all been destroyed, it’s safe to direct you to the Spiegel Online story about them. Make sure you enlarge the photo there so you can see the offending gesture.

This paranoia about the “Hitler salute” is omnipresent. I was on the upper level of a double-decker bus one time when a bunch of high-school boys thundered up the stairs and took some seats. They had just left a group of friends outside, and as the bus pulled away, one of the kids nudged another one and said “Hey, he’s waving at you.” The second kid raised his arm to wave, and suddenly blushed bright red as his friend slapped his arm down.

From this cautionary Christmas tale, I’d assume that pointing at the Star of Bethlehem on the part of shepherds or Magi isn’t depicted in German Christmas ornaments. I’ll be on the lookout when I make my customary tour of the Christmas markets some weekend in the near future. Can’t be too safe!

***

While lamenting the disappearance of things I like here, it’s, um, fair and balanced to point out the disappearance of things I’ve always hated, and on a recent walk to Alexanderplatz, I noted that the pedestrian subway, a large, DDR-era tiled collection of underground tunnels connecting various parts of Alex, had been paved over. True, it was the best way to get out of the rain, and a huge gallery for graffiti artists, but it was also the realm of the worst street musician ever, a flutist with one of those mephistophelean beards who played over orchestral tracks on a boom-box. I don’t think I have ever heard a musician play with less feeling, not to mention that his cassette seemed to contain only three tunes, which, excepting that Brandenburg Concerto movement, I’ve utterly forgotten.

Street musicians here have to be licensed, and I’ve been told that the licenses, which are issued at some preposterous hour of the morning like 6:30, are controlled by the Russian mob, which sends a few guys down to pick them all up and then doles them out to musicians, mostly Russian, who agree to their terms. One of those terms, apparently, is learning scams: some friends of mine once had a restaurant, and a friendly, funny guitarist would show up from time to time to entertain. Then he’d take all his small change and ask for a beer and the favor of converting his handfuls of coins into larger currency. Oddly, the restaurant kept coming up short at the cash register at 3 am, when it closed, and finally my friends made the connection and banned him. The police later confirmed that this was a very common scam with these musicians.

Of course, the other thing about pedestrian subways, common around the world as far as I can tell, is that they serve as late night urinals for the terminally inebriated, and on a warm summer day the one at Alex exuded a strong odor unless the cleaning crews, who also worked on the graffiti, had made their monthly appearance. The only positive aspect of this I can think of is that the flutist had to inhale the miasma in gasps as he thundered through the goddam Brandenburg.

Now, access to Alex is via surface, which means you have to stand in the rain waiting for the light to change. A small price to pay, given everything.

***

Thanks to Brent for this (translated) article from the Süddeutsche Zeitung, confirming what the local tabloid headlines have been screaming all week: THE HAUPTBAHNHOF MUST BE COMPLETELY REBUILT! Not true, of course, as you’ll read, but within the story is confirmation of something I’ve been saying here (and to anyone who’ll listen) about the attitude of Germany’s former monopolies (Deutsche Post, Deutsche Telekom, and, here, Deutsche Bahn) towards the public at large.

What the article doesn’t mention specifically is that the platform-length issue isn’t just a matter of esthetics. The east-west trains board outdoors, on the top level, and one of the “savings” DB instituted as they revised the architect’s original plans was to shorten not the platform, but the roof covering that platform. In thus saving a bit of money, they forgot that the high-speed ICE trains that pull into Berlin are really long, because they often split in two at a later destination. Several cars of these trains (and, thus, the passengers waiting to board) are thus exposed to the elements because the roof isn’t long enough, and the biggest irony is that these very cars are usually the first class ones, so you’ve just paid a premium to stand in the rain waiting to board. It’s true that the ticket envelopes and route-guides inside the trains often have ads for cold remedies, but this is a rather cruel way of drumming up business for them, I think.

I also wonder if the vaulted ceilings that may be part of the rebuilding, if it happens, will make the lower levels of the station any lighter. For all its glass and high-tech appurtenances, the Hauptbahnhof is one of the gloomiest places I’ve ever been in, a shopping mall in a cave.

It’s also worth noting the prose style of the article, which I think is accurately translated. This is what readers of Germany’s “better” papers (and this one is considered the best) have to slog through in order to get their information. No wonder so many people read the tabloids.