Top 3 Reasons I Use Essential Oils Every Day

My mother-in-law invited me to a “Make Your Own Cleaning Supplies” party where I was first introduced to Essential Oils. I went home with a few mason jars of yummy-smelling laundry detergents, bath salts, and a spray bottle of all-purpose cleanser.

It was fun and I was suprised that a cleanser made of water, vinegar, and lemon oil — a cleanser I could DRINK, for crying out loud! — was just as effective as the expensive store-bought chemical cleansers I had been using.

However… “Healthy” cleansers couldn’t get me past the steep capital investment it was going to require to start using essential oils regularly. I wasn’t “sold.”

After I gave birth to Cora, I was suffering from a pinched nerve in my lower back that had become debilitating hip pain, so much so I was forced to lie on the floor for her first birthday. Not even Vicadin could alleviate my suffering, and I had to drive 2.5 hours to San Diego the folliowing weekend. My mother-in-law let me borrow her bottle of DeepBlue, doTerra’s analgesic, anti-inflammatory, and I put a couple drops on my back and hip… And I WAS PAIN-FREE FOR THREE HOURS. The whole drive — didn’t feel a twinge.

Whoa.

Suddenly, essential oils were on my radar in a big way.

For my birthday, by MIL got me the Essential Oils Bible — “Modern Essentials” — and I literally read it cover to cover. As I explained to my own Mom, the advantage of Essential Oils really comes down to this…

1. Natural (vs. Artificial)

Most modern medicines are trying to imitate and amplify the effects we originally got from nature — e.g. aspirin came from willow bark, etc. Unfortunately, the reason modern medicines can’t kill viruses is that nothing we make matches the molecular structure of our cells. Because essential oils have tiny molecules and are lipid-based, they can permeate cell walls and do stuff that man-made drugs cannot.

Since we started using essential oils, my kids have not been sick once. As soon as they start developing sniffles, it’s OnGuard three times a day and we’re done with the bug before it starts!

2. Proactive (vs. Reactive)

Most prescription drugs are designed to fix symptoms, not address the cause. For example, you take Tylenol to dull the pain, not fix the headache. But these oils actually go in and do the hard work of healing your body on a cellular level.

When my husband gets hit with a headache, he puts PastTense on the back of his neck and it goes in, expanding blood vessels and decreases inflammation.

Really, as a mother, one of the worst feelings in the world is helplessness in the face of my child’s discomfort or illness. Now, instead of reaching for the phone to schedule an expensive doctor’s appointment next week, where we’ll be sitting for two hours among dozens of other sick kids, so that the doctor can prescribe a general antibiotic… I can go to Modern Essentials, look up what’s wrong, and address it immediately in a safe and effective manner.

3. Positive (vs. Negative) Side Effects

What happens when you overdose on prescription drugs? You die.

What happens when you overdose on essential oils? …oh wait, you don’t, because your body knows how to process them and let go of anything it’s not using.

When you use essential oils, not only are you getting the specific benefit that you’re looking for, but you’re also getting a host of other positive side effects.

For example, I use lavender oil on Cora every night before she goes to bed. I intend for the aroma to pacific her into a calm and soothing sleep. And it does. But I also discovered that lavender is an “analgesic, anticoagulant, anticonvulsant, antidepresent, antifungal, antihistamine, anti-infections, anti-inflammatory, animicrobial, antimutagenic, antiseptic, antispasmodic, antitoxic, antitumor, cadiotonic, regenerative, and sedative” (M.E., p 64). So basically, while I like the way it smells, I’m also protecting my daughter on a cellular level from allergies, asthma, bruises, earaches, heart disease, flu, nervous tension, skin conditions, throat infections, and fevers.

…These oils become a way of life — a holistic, natural, and proactive approach to my family’s wellbeing.

I would love to help you discover the power of these oils for yourself, so I am currently offering to personally subsidize your starter kit of oils PLUS the amazing Modern Essentials guidebook.

http://www.mydoterra.com/caitlindoemner/

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Why Home Birth? Part 3

Okay, so now you know Cora’s textbook-perfect hospital birth story. And you have read my intellectual overview of why homebirths are not nearly as risky as doctors would have you believe. Which means it’s finally time for me to share all my personal motivations for this big decision.

1. Nathan (and Cora)

Nathan wants nothing to do with the birth (“I just want to be out of the house!”), which is ironic, because it was seeing him separated from Cora by a wall of glass that made me want to not do a hospital birth again. Just because he wasn’t 16, he wasn’t allowed to come and meet, see, and hold his brand new baby sister. Of all the stupid %##@! rules… How ridiculously arbitrary is that?

What I envision instead: Baby’s siblings allowed to be present (or not!) for the birth… Cora playing in the birthing pool with me, asking “What’doing?” and checking out the birthed placenta. Nathan going to see a movie with grandparents and coming home to hold and rock his littlest brother.

2. Michael.

Husbands seem to be second-hand citizens in a tight-on-space hospital. He was always present in the first birth, but actual involvement was pretty limited to hand-holding and verbal encouragement. Then, after the birth, he has to go home? Two nights in a row? Are you kidding me??

What I envision instead: Michael beside me in the pool, or me hugging him as I stand and sway through a contraction. Him catching the baby as it emerges and us cuddling in bed after: newborn snuggled between us and the older kids piled on top.

3. Comfort & Care

I’m  not going to dance around the point — giving at birth just sounds so much more enjoyable than in a hospital. I don’t have to scramble to put clothes into a bag and drive through the cold at any hour of the day so I can filled out reams of paperwork and sit uncomfortably in a chair  to wait among a crowd of strangers under fluorescent lights for the attention of an overworked staff member who only knows me by the marks on a chart.

Also, pre-natal care. The first time I went to see Dr. A, I sat in his waiting room for TWO HOURS before he saw me. At which point, he examined me for 10 minutes and left. The first time I went to see my midwife, I also sat for two hours — on her sofa, talking about me and my pregnancy and my concerns — and received plenty of personalized care. At the birth, I will have the undivided attention of three women (who have all had their own homebirths) attending to me and the baby.

What I envision: Experiencing my first contractions and taking a walk around the property with Michael, keeping track of duration and timing. Calling the midwife and letting her know how I’m progressing so she and her assistants can come to my home where I have an indoor jacuzzi (thanks to the Argenbrights!!) filled with warm water, jets, and soothing essential oils. My family and friends coming in to check on me and offer me encouragement in a casual way, maybe stopping to chat, or simply give me a hug. Playing my “Inspiration” playlist at full blast or listening to the soothing voice of my Hypnobabies tapes. Bouncing on my ball or climbing into the tub or squatting in a doorway or holding onto Michael for dear life as I scream or cry, or laugh or sing.

I envision doing this My Way.

4. Inter-Connectedness.

Several years ago, Michael’s great-grandmother was ill and we were considering taking her into our home for her final days. I had to be okay with the fact that Death would be present in our home. And you know what? I welcomed it. Somehow, our migration to urban-life and modernity disconnected us from the two points where our present lives intersect with Eternity — all of our births and deaths occur outside of the home, in a sterile hospital, surrounded by strangers, connected by wires instead of prayers.

What I envision: A home that has sheltered Life in the Raw. Children who have experienced that life can be messy, but have found beauty in the blood.

5. Empowerment.

Because a doctor has years of medical training, we trust him to know better than us how to get a baby out safely and efficiently. And I’m sure that he knows exactly everything that could possibly go wrong and what to do in those situations.  Unfortunately, what he does not have is a body that has been created to make humans, a body that has evolved with instinctual knowledge about how to bring life into the world. Don’t get me wrong — I love epidurals with the best of them, but I want to go head-to-head against the Curse of Eve… and WIN.

Any woman who has carried a child knows that it is a pivotal turning point in one’s concept of one’s self  as Woman. Suddenly, “goddesses” make sense — we achieve the Divine. We are Givers of Life. This is my way of embracing that.

What I envision: Me standing fully in my power, trusting in the grace of God, knowing exactly what to do. Me listening to my body and my baby; reason and instinct united, moving in rhythm with the wisdom of the ages.

…I’m sure there are more reasons and clearer visions, but that’s a good start.  🙂

Why (Not) Home Birth? …Part 2

“Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about.” ― G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Considering that for the 10,000 years humans have been reproducing, at least 98.5% of births were conducted in a non-hospital environment, I feel that a better question than “Why a Home Birth?” should be “Why Not a Home Birth?”

All of the best reasons for having a hospital birth boil down to the principle that there is less risk of mortal complications for both mother and infant when conducted in a medical facility with trained medical professionals. Right?

Because, I mean, when you think about it objectively – no one LIKES hospitals. I have yet to  find anyone who goes and hangs out in the emergency room because of the comfortable chairs or intelligent conversations; no one dines at a hospital cafeteria because they offer gourmet food and a soothing ambiance.  No. We go to hospitals because something is wrong that we can’t fix ourselves. It’s a last resort for people who are sick, injured or dying. It’s a house of aberrations.

So the question becomes: Is giving birth natural or unnatural? A sickness or celebration?

“But…” you say, “just because it’s natural, doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous! Women and babies die all the time when giving birth at home.”

You’re absolutely right. And women and babies die in hospitals as well.

You know me –I love research. Unfortunately, my research was kind of thwarted, because I discovered that this issue is really difficult to study and compare scientifically for several reasons.

1.  In general, because of regulations, planned home-births tend to start with a lower-risk pool of candidates. In the state of California, for instance, midwives are not allowed to serve women who:

• are over 45
• will be having multiples (twins, etc)
• have a baby in a “breach” position at term
• have “pre-existing” (but heretofore un-identified) medical conditions
• are under 37 weeks or over 42 weeks

…because these all qualify as “high-risk” pregnancies.

2.  Not all midwife care is created equal.  Each state has its own regulations and there are different levels of medical training – licensed midwife (LM), certified professional midwife (CPM), and certified nurse midwife (CNM).

3.  Not all homebirths are planned, and not all planned homebirths end at home.

4.  There is a smaller number of homebirths to study than hospital birth data.

All that said, the least biased scientific journals I could find gave some version of the following results:

“Perinatal mortality was not significantly different in the two groups (OR = 0.87, 95% CI 0.54–1.41). The principal difference in the outcome was a lower frequency of low Apgar scores (OR = 0.55; 0.41–0.74) and severe lacerations (OR = 0.61; 0.54–0.83) in the home birth group. Fewer medical interventions occurred in the home birth group: induction (statistically significant ORs in the range 0.06–0.39), augmentation (0.26–0.69), episiotomy (0.02–0.39), operative vaginal birth (0.03–0.42), and cesarean section (0.05–0.31). No maternal deaths occurred in the studies. Some differences may be partly due to bias. The findings regarding morbidity are supported by randomized clinical trials of elements of birth care relevant for home birth, however, and the finding relating to mortality is supported by large register studies comparing hospital settings of different levels of care.

Conclusion: Home birth is an acceptable alternative to hospital confinement for selected pregnant women, and leads to reduced medical interventions.”

For fun, let’s compare our hospital-preferred system to another developed country which highly advocates midwife maternal and natal care.

In the United States, where midwifery was effectively banned near the turn of the 20^th century, we still have a very low percentage of midwife-assisted births (7.6%) and only 0.72% conducted at home (as of 2009).

United States Infant Mortality Rate: 5.90 per 1000 births (.59%)
United States Maternal Mortality Rate:  21 per 100,000 births (.021%)

Compare that to the Netherlands, which has the highest rate of home births (29%), plus 13.4% more hospital births also attended by midwives.

Netherlands Infant Mortality Rate: 3.69 per 1000 births (.37%)
Netherlands Maternal Mortality Rate: 6 per 100,000 births (.006%)

Now some people want to quibble with these statistics by pointing to the fact that in the Netherlands, midwifes are fully integrated into the health system, but that instead of invalidating the power of the data, it seems instead to pose a very strong argument for integrating midwives more effectively into the United States health care system, doncha think?

So, given that the risks of death for mother and infant (given normal, low-risk pregnancies) seems to be comparable between obstetrician observed hospital births, and planned home births overseen by trained midwives — plus there are significantly fewer medical interventions — my question, again, is:

Why Not Have a Home Birth?

Why Homebirth? Part 1 – My First Birth Story

When I decided (and announced) that I would be giving birth at home, I got the whole bell curve of reactions — bewilderment, horror stories and admonitions to NOT do it… but the majority of responses expressed strong support and encouragement.  Unknowingly, I seem to have stepped into a trendy new space in parenting.

But for the Unconverted, the question — spoken or unspoken — is “Why?”

For some: Why would I give up the comfort of Drugs?? For others: Why would I put myself and my baby at risk by giving birth so far (20 minutes) from an operating room?

Let me start by stating that my decision was not a running away from anything, but a running towards something… My first live birth two years ago with my daughter, Cora Joy, was a picture-perfect hospital birth. My OBGYN, Dr. A, is a personal friend and one of the highest rated obstetricians in our region. Nothing goes wrong on his watch, mostly because nothing is left to chance.

I began my pregnancy with 25 unique blood tests — I asked the lab technician if she’d ever taken so many vials from one arm, and nope, I set the new record. This was most likely because I had miscarried about six months previously and he wanted to rule out all possible complications. Makes total sense. And fortunately, they all came back normal.

We had monthly check-ups where I was weighed and examined and told to not eat any sugar. He was very concerned by my 30-pound weight gain.

Somewhere during this time, I watched a documentary called “The Business of Being Born.” (It’s available on Netflix) I can definitively say, though I didn’t know it at the time — that movie was the catalyst for my impending ideological shift. I started a very dangerous practice, which has gotten many people into a lot of trouble over the centuries — I started asking questions.

I informed Dr. A that I did NOT want a cesarean section unless my life or the baby’s life were in danger. He explained all the different scenarios of why they do C-sections and how he might not be able to identify the danger before it was “too late.” But that was pretty much one issue that I was not budging on.

On the other hand, my desire to “go natural” was soon laid to rest. Dr. A informed me that going past one’s due date was very risky and because the baby would be growing daily, I might NEED a C-section if we went past the 40-week mark because the baby would be so big. And since he is only in the hospital on Tuesdays or Thursdays, I was scheduled for an induction two days before my due date.

We also discussed epidurals. I didn’t want to “drug” the baby accidentally, and was told that because an epidural stays in the spinal cord, it in no way affects the baby. He told me there is really no reason to go without one, except to “prove something” — that the epidural relaxes the woman and in his experience, seriously speeds along the birthing process. So I planned on having an epidural.

December 15th arrived and we had to be at the hospital at 6:00 am to begin the induction process. I got up early, took a shower, did my makeup and french-braided my hair (not the least of my accomplishments that day!). I video taped us parking and walking into the lobby — it was fun! I was excited — I was going to have a baby today!

The huge advantage of having a scheduled induction is that it makes logistics SO SIMPLE. Everyone knew what to expect. I had stopped volunteering the week before and had a farewell party. Michael had scheduled his time off. My family was able to notify their employers and book their hotel rooms in advance. (Let me interject — I  MISS THIS. As a plan-loving CEO of a flourishing start-up company I would REALLY love to know exactly when this new baby will be arriving. More on this, I’m sure, in a later post.)

Of course, even though WE had scheduled our pregnancy, it turns out the rest of our community had not. The whole birthing wing was full and Michael and I were seated, anticlimactically, in the hallway. I had a chair, Michael did not. Since this was only 10 days before Christmas, I started comparing the situation (probably blasphemously) to Mary and Joseph with no room in the inn.

(can I interject again and just say that if Obama told me, in my final trimester, that I had to get on a donkey and return to San Diego so I could be counted — I would have done so much more than write hate mail… Assassination attempts may have been considered.)

Finally, we were given a bed in a room with 5 other women, separated by sheets. And what followed was seriously the worst part of my day (guys, if you’re reading and are not comfortable with graphic details — skip the following paragraph).

A very nice, very efficient nurse whom I’ll call Phyllis, arrived with my “induction gel.” I still don’t know what was in that gel, but the woman laid me down and stuck her latexed finger up my vagina, probed around for my cervix, which must have been lodged way the hell up there, managed to hook it with her finger and pulled – it – down, so she could swirl it around and “strip the membranes” before injecting the gel. I kid you not — this was the worst pain I experienced that day. I wasn’t screaming, but I was literally clawing the walls like a cat; I wanted to hiss at her to get the hell out of my business….      But didn’t. Instead, because I wasn’t progressing adequately, she had to do this same process TWO MORE TIMES.

During this time, I was just supposed to lie down. No sitting, no walking, nothing, because they didn’t want the gel to come out.

Finally, the contractions started coming fast and hard and Dr. A strolled in around 10 am to see how I was doing. Unfortunately, because they didn’t have any private rooms and were unable to monitor me, I was not allowed to get an epidural. But I guess Dr. A pulled some strings, because I was finally moved to a private room with a lovely view of the back parking lot, and at 3:00 pm — bless her heart — the Anesthesia Angel arrived. She rolled me over, swabbed my back, poked me with a long needle and — sweet bliss! I fell almost instantly asleep and had a nice nap during which I dilated from 6 to 9.5 centimeters. Talk about efficient! I woke up refreshed and ready to bring this baby into the world. My sisters arrived to say hi, but soon we were ready to push. Dr. A was called, Phyllis was there to coach me, Michael was holding my hand… the epidural drip was dialed back so that I could be an active participant without feeling too much pain, and sure enough, in less than 10 pushes, at 5:48 pm (almost 12 hours after we’d arrived) my slimy, red-haired infant slipped into the world. Michael got to cut the cord, and the baby was whisked off to be cleaned while Dr. A used the cord to pull out the placenta and sac, and stitched up the episiotomy (something I had forgotten to mention I did NOT want). Sisters and in-laws were allowed into the room while Michael and I weighed “Cora Fox” against “Cora Joy” as a name. I remember feeling euphoric and a little disconnected from reality; as I imagine being high feels.

Finally, everyone left and I got to bond with Cora and nurse her. We were moved to a room with only one other woman and Cora was taken away again. Michael was not allowed to spend the night, so fortunately, he got some sleep. That night I remember asking for constant water refills and tried to figure out this whole mother thing… I had heard that not all moms connect instantly with their child and I experienced that to some extent…

For those of you who grew up on “Beauty and the Beast” — I liken it to the moment when the Beast is transformed into the Prince. In your head, you know that Belle being with a human with flowing golden locks is a much better arrangement that her being with an 8-foot tall Minotaur, but… you had fallen in love with the Beast and the Prince, while very attractive, is quite simply not the Beast.  ….that’s what I was experiencing with Cora. Here she was — perfect little independent human — but a stranger. I didn’t really know what to do with this Outside Baby.

But sometime during that first night, as I watched her sleep, the love affair was kindled. It probably took a few days to really catch fire, but it’s now been two years and I’m as head over heels for that little girl as anyone could be for another person.

I so badly wanted to go home the next morning, but they were worried about bilirubins and so decided to keep us for another night. So my sisters came back to visit with a picnic basket and my best friends arrived to meet the new baby (Becky was leaving for Europe the next day). Nathan was not allowed in because he was under 16, so he and his cousins whom he was staying with, got to say hello through the glass.

All in all, not a bad story. Pretty much the best you can hope from a fully-managed hospital birth, wouldn’t you say?I spent a second night propped up in a hospital bed without my husband, but finally, the next morning, I was free to go. We packed up and bundled Cora in her snow suit; I carried her while being wheeled out to the van, where we strapped her into her brand new car seat and I sat in the back seat with her as we drove home.

…but I wanted more.

New Blog Venture

So, as you may have noticed, Becky’s solo venture has resulted in a serious paucity of entries on East of Mina. I plan on still using this site for all things personal (there may be an up-tick in posts after baby arrives) but I have also decided to try my literary wings in a new sector of the blogosphere as a guest political writer for R.J. Moeller’s blog.

I’ll be posting there once a week in 4-part series on various topics and I would love to have you check them out/subscribe. Here’s the introduction, explaining my project, and my first article on Immigration.

What I like about RJ is his desire to spark conversations by engaging different viewpoints, while remaining rooted in his faith. He just did a podcast with liberal comedian, Adam Carolla; feel free to check it out.

CSD

What’s a Good Question?

This comes from Scriptorium Daily. Worth the read, especially for everyone who teaches anyone anything…

“What’s a good question? That’s a good question.

A good question evokes curiosity by exhibiting curiosity.”

Easy Creamy Rice Pudding

This isn’t a quick recipe (rice has to simmer for an hour) but it’s simple and super yummy — my husband’s favorite dessert.

Place 1 cup white rice (I prefer short, chubby grains) and a 1/2 gallon 2% or whole milk in a pot. Add 1 cup sugar and a cinnamon stick (optional). Bring to a boil and then simmer for an hour, stirring frequently.

Whisk together 3 eggs, a 1/2 tsp salt and 2 tsp vanilla. After the rice has cooked for its hour, slowly add the egg mixture and stir gently until completely combined, about 2 minutes. Pour into a 9″x13″ glass pan and cover in plastic wrap; chill for several hours to overnight. When cool, remove plastic wrap, sprinkle lightly with cinnamon and re-cover in fresh plastic wrap.

Enjoy!

A Blessing of Unicorns

Some people collect stamps. Coins. Elephants. Beanie Babies.

I collect the names of groups of creatures. Odd, yes. Useful, no. Entertaining, often.

There are the typical, well-known ones: a Pod of Whales, a Gaggle of Geese, a Pride of Lions.

Some are especially fitting: a Crash of Rhinos, a Prickle of Porcupines, and a Smack of Jellyfish.

Beware the Murder of Crows, Mobs of Kangaroos, and the Shrewdness of Apes. And don’t rain on the Elephants’ Parade.

Feel free to join the Convocation of Eagles, the Congress of Ravens, or the Parliament of Owls. Appropriately, Larks form Exultations, Hummingbirds Charm, and Jays Scold.

There are Musters of Peafowl, Coteries of Prairie Dogs, and Romps of Otters. Sharks swim in Shivers, and Gnats form Clouds;  Clowders of Cats, Sleuths of Bears, Cetes of Badgers.  Ferrets have Businesses but Martens get Richness.

My all time favorite is a Blessing of Unicorns. The verdict is out on Dragons, but I’m partial to “Doom.”

Any you care to add?

C.S. Doemner

Life Imitates Art

Remember when restaurants used to boast that their food was “Just like Home-made”?   It seems a tide has turned, and now home cooks are boasting that their food is “Just as good as the Restaurants.”

You can find recipes for Panda Express’ Orange Chicken and Mrs. Field’s Cookies.

I noticed myself falling into this trend when our friends brought over pretty, swirled, butter cookies with sprinkles. I had only seen them sold at Vons and similar stores, and so, exclaimed, “These taste store-bought! …and I mean that in the nicest way!”

A few days ago, we bought hoagie rolls and my husband made sandwiches with two kinds of deli meat, two kinds of cheese, and enough veggies to satisfy a whole colony of rabbits. My son gave  his approbation by saying, “This tastes like Subway!”

I suppose it’s a product of a culture that turned fast food from a luxury into a necessity. And, with increased competition in the prepared food industry, there really are some yummy things available out there that require a large number of fresh ingredients to duplicate. Not to mention, fewer people have the time or desire to cultivate the skill necessary to create gourmet foods at home.

Tonight I’m making enchilada casserole. I’m cheating by opening a can of enchilada sauce.

C.S. Doemner

Pick Your Own

As a kid, I went strawberry-picking for a field trip. I remember standing in the hot fields, looking over at neighboring farms, seeing the manual laborers, and thinking: “They’re getting paid. We’re paying to do this. How does this make sense?”

And yet, now, I have a nostalgic desire to crouch amid crops with a hot sun on my shoulders and pick my own food. More importantly, I want to take my son to do it, too, so he can think to himself, “This is insane. We could buy these same berries in an air conditioned grocery store for half the money and none of the labor.” And maybe one day he’ll have a similar desire to take his kids out.

Turns out there’s a website with a list of farms in Southern California in case you too want to pay someone to work in their fields:

http://www.pickyourown.org

 

Enjoy!

CSD