I think this blog has been properly named, even though at the time it was intended to be sort of humorously self-deprecatory. I mean, we started interviewing doctors and buying all the books right away, and a home birth was far from our thoughts, but here we are.
And today we started looking into the whole world of what they call “elimination communication,” which we’ve run into a few times before but as I joked in our birthing class last week, we thought it might be too extreme for us. But then we looked into it a bit more, read a bit from about it from another great new parent who’s trying it out, and it’s starting to seem a little more reasonable on this slippery slope into complete hippydom. It is, in the extreme, an attempt to be diaper-free, and instead pay such close attention to your baby that you know when he/she needs to go and you hold him/her over a toilet. In its less-extreme forms, you can still use a diaper, but still try to get the communication going about when he/she needs to go. Of course, in the pre-diaper world, it was the only way to be.
Once you get on this train of trying to get back to the core of what parenting is… from natural births to breast-feeding to attachment parenting to elimination communication… it just never seems to end. There’s a luxury implied in some of these methods… who has time to pay this much attention to an infant, clearly only the rich and bored. But these things don’t have to be polarizing philosophies. They’re all presented (if not by the media and by strongly opinionated bloggers) as a spectrum of possibilities. Adapt what you can, discard what proves to be impossible. The same goes for everything else in life. It’s not about choosing your loyalties and author/doctor heroes, but rather finding the resonant bits of methods that have been used and tested and finding out what kind of parent I want to be.
But yeah, from zero to baby. Esther’s due date is coming right up in 29 days, and our list of things that we need to do before then is getting perilously small. Then it’s the fast track for toddlerhood, adolescence, teen years, and adulthood for our little Axelrod. While we run around trying to catch falling chickens and put out forest fires. That’s my expectation, at least, I could be wrong.