“David Wants to Fly” with San Francisco friends

Nearly 30 friends gathered with overwhelming support for a personal coming-out gathering, at yesterday’s 4 pm screening of “David Wants to Fly” for the German Gems Film Festival in San Francisco’s beautiful Castro Theater.

A mutual friend is convinced that I could save Mark from his confusing past. So, Mark sat next to me at our pre-film lunch. He was raised in Fairfield, Iowa’s Transcendental Meditation community, attending Maharishi schools. Like many second generation TMers, Mark also spent time on Maharishi’s segregated celibate “Thousand Headed Purusha Program” with prolonged mediations and accompanying indoctrination videos. Marks parents had alternately served as Maharishi University faculty and for David Lynch’s foundation to spread TM to the world. As a young adult trying to find his way, Mark’s inner battles continue to haunt him as tries to create an independent life. He struggles to sort love for family and community enmeshed with Maharishi’s world plan, and the insanities he saw around him.

Mark asked questions about Maharishi’s sex life and the Shrivastava family bank accounts, to which I could only respond, “Where there is smoke, there is usually fire.”

“But why won’t those former lovers of Maharishi come forth and talk?”

“They’re concerned about stigma, Mark. One them did write a book about her experience as Maharishi’s lover, called ‘Robes of Silk, Feet of Clay’. The rest remain silent.”

“But there isn’t stigma for this background, not today! I know.” Mark spoke emphatically. “When I tell people in New York about my background, they find it interesting, they don’t hold it against me.”

“Mark, you and I were raised in this. We didn’t make a seeming unwise choice. So society provides allowances for us to speak of the cult experience. However, the professional world often adversely judges those who joined a cult, viewing them as flawed, weak, insecure.”

Across the table, Joe added, “No one in my professional world knows my background with Maharishi. It could jeopardize my job. I’m very careful who I disclose this to. The professional world thinks I was old enough to know better when I joined.”

I turned to Mark, “There could be concern about their work stability or professional judgement. That is why former cult members are reluctant to speak forth. Maharishi University graduates often struggle with listing their cult education on a resume. Society overall still does not understand that anybody could be vulnerable for brainwashing techniques and social persuasion. In fact, ICSA found that the majority of those who join cults are actually above average intelligence, just caught at a vulnerable time of life.”

“But there are a lot of people who would want to know about those women who slept with Maharishi. This is big news!” Mark emphasized.

“No, Mark, it’s not big news. Outside the (TM) Movement, no one cares. The rest of the world does not care about the Movement. That’s why the Movement got away with their shenanigans for so long.”

“I disagree with you. And I really want to know where Maharishi’s family money is. I want to talk with someone who knows first hand about the Movement finances.”

“Probably in unmarked Swiss bank accounts.” I shrugged. “The only people who know are the account holders themselves, and they won’t talk. According to Maharishi’s former secretary, Maharishi sent his nephew to UCLA business school so he could run the Movement’s finances. Maharishi’s ex lovers don’t talk because they must continue with their current lives. Outside the TM Movement, sleeping with Maharishi does not carry a mystical connotation. Who would want to publicly admit they had slept with a slimy haired guy dressed in white silk and beads, even if he was the Beatles guru?”

I leaned over to Mark, “But his old secretary told me that one of the lovers stole Maharishi’s beads. He showed up for the next day’s lecture without beads to play with.”

Mark laughed, “Those would be worth a lot of money.”

“Sure,” I chuckled, “How much do you think Maharishi’s beads would fetch on eBay?”

I continued while Mark slowly chewed his lunch, wondering how much he was digesting, “One of the reasons that TM is a cult, compared to other meditation forms, is because of the secrecy. People are lured with promises of scientific method to deep rest to release creativity. In actuality, vulnerable people are brought to a supposed spiritual practice to lure them into an obtuse deceptive and expensive society – the one that you were born into. From the beginning with mantra instruction, the initiate is told to keep the mantra secret ostensibly ‘for your own good.’ A new initiate is trained to keep things secret. From that point on, the secrets continue to unfold, at higher and higher prices.”

Mark responded with calm dignity, “Hindu scriptures explain that a guru must sometimes deceive his disciple for the disciples’ own good.”

“Mark, I’m sorry. You’re not as aware of the recruitment process, because you were raised with this and are accustomed to the mythological society. But TM is not presented that way to the outside world.”

Mark nodded.

Joe, a former TM Initiator, interjected from across the table, “That’s ancient hinduism. This is modern America and Europe. Do you think such deception is appropriate? The validity of ancient mystical teachings is the study of philosophy. TM claims to be scientific, but it is anything but. TM teachers know they are lying. It is deception by omission. Their goal is to recruit people for increased involvement with the TM Movement. You know that. I know that. They know that. They speak in their trained semi hypnotic voices to reassuringly encourage someone to begin TM.”

Mark nodded in agreement, “I cannot disagree with you here.”

“Mark, it’s not normal. We were taught to ‘reveal higher levels of knowledge’ only to those who are ready. The TM insider definition of ‘those who are ready’ means those who’ve relinquished critical thinking so that they’ll slowly accept a alternative life paradigm, then pay Maharishi’s organization thousands of dollars to maintain their status.”

Mark added, “When I was on Purusha, rich kids like the Daniels’ kid could do whatever they wanted. They didn’t follow ‘Program,’ at all and never got into trouble. The rest of us had to stay strictly on ‘Program’ or be reprimanded.”

“That’s right, it’s about keeping the wealthy happy so they’ll continue to donate. You saw that. It’s not about spirituality. A valid organization does not hide their hierarchy to the outside world – whether it’s a business, church or political institution.”

Mark defended the Movement, with standard insider justifications, “Going into the future, if the Movement survives they might not need to hide the hierarchy anymore. It’s an early developmental stage of the Movement. Early Christianity probably kept secrets. The Catholic Church has a robbed monastic hierarchy too.”

“Mark, first off the Movement tells the world that Transcendental Mediation is not religious. You know differently. I’m not an expert on the history of the Catholic Church. I know that Catholicism began with a public alliance with Rome’s government under the Emperor Constantine. Today, anyone entering a Catholic church knows the existence of priests, nuns, convents, monasteries, the palatial Vatican, extremes of Opus Dei and their holy communion. The basic structure of Catholicism is not hidden, whether one accepts the teachings or not. The basic structure of Transcendental Mediation is hidden by presenters who try to bring this to school children, businesses and other groups. That is a classic mark of a destructive cult.”

Joe added, “The people who went psychotic on the long rounding courses are split inside themselves, from the trance technique and dissociation that can occur. That’s not higher consciousness, that’s an aberrant dissociative state.”

Mark almost whispered, “I know people who went crazy and others who committed suicide. Someone recently.”

“I know, Mark. I’m sorry.” I momentarily placed my hand on his, “We all lost loved ones in the Movement. I knew the Swarz family too.”

“You knew them?” He looked up.

“Yes, a long time ago, when Daniel was a baby. They are good people. It’s sad.” I sighed, “Mark, many of them did not need to go insane or die. They could have accessed real help.”

“But those who became schizophrenic already had a weakness toward that. TM didn’t make them that way.” Mark declared.

“Maybe some had a propensity for mental problems, But TM should not be marketed as panacea for everything. If TM teachers really helped, they could refer troubled meditators to appropriate professionals, rather than direct them more deeply into the Movement for solutions.”

“The Movement changed.” Mark returned to a defensive stance. “They don’t tell people to continue to meditate thought unstressing. You’re talking about the old days. Those old directions changed. It’s better.”

Joe looked momentarily surprised, he turned to me, “The Movement doesn’t encourage long rounding anymore?”

“Joe, they don’t push the long meditations as much as they used to.” I explained, “I think they tired of the law suits. Now they sell other products to keep the money coming. Untested Ayurvedic therapies, spa treatments, magical architecture plans for thousands of dollars, special gemstones, yagyas to balance the doshas, fundraising arms for donations to spread TM elsewhere and generate new recruits.”

“What are doshas?” asked Joe

“Some type of mystical body energetic tendencies. I refused to learn them. It’s a theory that creates a market for Maharishi teas and other magic for enlightenment. They changed products to suit a changing market. Have to maintain the novelty factor.”

I continued, “For example, yagyas were the big push some years back. For thousands of dollars a person could buy mystical prayer ceremonies performed by invisible Indian pundits. When I nearly died of a car accident in 1999, as a single mother of three with one in college, my mother was pleased to have purchased a $10,000 yagya for my recovery. My daughter was confused when her grandmother sent thousands of dollars to India while our family was in a survival crisis. We were were trying to keep our home and continue my daughter in college when I had almost died. I explained to my daughter that was the best her grandmother could offer. We shouldn’t take it personally, just pretend we don’t have a grandmother because she’ll never be able to provide real support.”

I turned to Mark next me, “That’s what a cult looks like. You’ve seen it. It’s not about deep rest, nor consciousness, nor spiritual growth. It’s money for Maharishi’s family.”

Mark quietly nodded; he didn’t respond.

At this time, I thought to myself, I cannot save Mark. I’m not a professional exit counselor. Bringing someone out of cult-think, without precipitating an identity crisis or anxiety attack is the purview of experts. Mark still self-defines by the fantasy. He wants to create his life outside of the Movement, seeing some insanity in his family’s behaviors. It’s not possible to live both worlds. Mark’s family and entire history are defined by Maharishi. What would be left for Mark if he leaves TM fully? He may awaken in his own time, or not. It’s not my responsibility to convince him.

We paid our restaurant tab and took a sunny walk to the Castro movie theater. Even more friends turned out at the movie! After keeping my family history quiet for decades, the acceptance and support of intelligent accomplished peers was overwhelming. What an odd way to unite my life’s first and second halves – on a sidewalk ticket line. The irony of my coming-out-of-the-closet in San Francisco’s famed tolerant Castro district did not go unnoticed.

Inside the beautiful theater, Eve spoke from the row behind me. “When waiting outside, I asked the person in line next to me ‘Why did you come to see this film?’ He responded, “Transcendental Meditation is being taught at my kid’s high school. I want to see the other side of the story.’ I told him about your family upbringing, how you helped prevent TM from coming to you kids’ high school; that’s why we are attending this film! It’s exciting. We’re proud of you, Gina!”

I smiled and laughed, not knowing how to respond. “Thank you for coming today. I really appreciate it.”

A master of ceremonies briefly introduced the filmmaker David Sieveking on stage. Then lights dimmed as the red velvet curtains pulled open, and the film began.

The audience watched Sieveking’s skillful and compassionate editing of his enthusiastic youthful journey to meet his idol, filmmaker David Lynch. At Lynch’s encouragement, Sieveking paid 2,800 euros cash for TM instruction. The film then follows Sieveking’s journey through images into some of TM’s global empire, New York, Berlin, Vlodrop, Iowa, India. After filming Maharishi’s memorial service on the Ganges, Sieveking was granted access to inner aspects of the Movement in Vlodrop, Netherlands. He filmed the lavish golden-crowned assembly of rajas in long white robes and gold chains during an early power struggle between Maharishi’s deemed successor, Maharaja Nader Raam, and the Indian factions of the Movement. In several instances, TM leaders directed Sieveking to turn off his camera. Several film clips include former devotees revealing bits of the Movement’s underbelly.

The post-film Q & A primarily revolved around film making. David Sieveking spoke frankly of the irony that he sought David Lynch and Transcendental Meditation to spur his filmmaking career. In the end, David Lynch and the Transcendental Meditation Movement demanded to censure the film. When Sieveking refused to allow the Movement censorship rights, David Lynch and the Movement refused further interviews with the young filmmaker who they referred to as “David from Berlin.” Both Lynch’s foundation and Maharishi’s organization had threatened Sieveking with law suits.

The audience laughed when Sieveking explained that meeting with an entertainment law attorney proved more beneficial for his stress level, than had the Transcendental Meditation technique.

Ironically, Sieveking’s pursuit of David Lynch and Transcendental Meditation did, in fact, provide the basis for a successful film. It’s just not the film that Sieveking had initially expected to make.

My friend Joe stood up, “Thank you, David, for making this film. I spent 15 years devotedly working for this organization. You’ve depicted that world eloquently and compassionately. The only thing missing was stories of the severe psychological and financial damage that occurred to many. The movie did not highlight those aspects, but you probably could not cover that. Transcendental Meditation is both manipulative and dangerous. Over all, your film was an excellent portrayal of the inside of that organization. Thank you.”

After the film, Mark (the young man struggling with family relation to TM) cornered David Sieveking in the lobby, discussing aspects of the TM Movement. David Sieveking politely spoke with Mark, while trying to work contacts for his filmmaking career. Sieveking is not a professional exit counselor, nor a cult expert. He is a talented young filmmaker who recognized when he had stumbled upon a story, and pursued that story with passion.

Over dinner later, I asked another girlfriend, “So, as an outsider, what did you think of the film?”

“Oh, Sieveking did a great job! I was not fully objective, because I know Gina and I’d heard her stories. In the beginning of the film, I was surprised because I’d expected a hard core expose’. In fact he presented TM’s sales pitch. He showed how wonderful it is to relax with meditation. It was all just lovely, in fact, really lovely. He had a break up, a psychological crisis, and retreated to the comfort of meditation with new friends. Then he slowly revealed the group’s cracks, and the cracks just got bigger across the globe. The viewer walks that road with him through cracks that seem ready to crumble. He also clearly alluded to the fact that there is more to those cracks, but he could not tell those stories because of legal threats. The film clearly shows there is deep ugly dysfunction in Transcendental Meditation. He is a brilliant filmmaker with a bright career ahead of him! The fact that he’s funny and handsome doesn’t hurt!”

Review : Cartwheels in a Sari by Jayanti Tamm

I first heard Jayanti Tamm during an NPR interview in 2009. Her poised discussion of her cult upbringing as the “Chosen One” within Sri Chinmoy’s cult inspired me to immediately order a copy of her book. Like many such books, “Cartwheels in a Sari” waited upon my bedside stack. A considerate friend then gifted me an autographed copy of her memoir, kindly saying, “Gina, it’s time to write yours.”

Wrestling with editing sections of my own cult upbringing memoir in the shadow of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, I finally delved into Tamm’s story.

Jayanti Tamm, in “Cartwheels in a Sari; a memoir of growing up cult” bravely, humorously and with compassion describes the spiritual devotion which lured her parents and others to their deemed incarnation of God, Sri Chinmoy in 1969. Sri Chinmoy dictated her parents’ marriage upon their first meeting.

Tamm’s existence is in direct disobedience of the guru’s mandate for celibacy. Despite her parents humiliation for conceiving a child against their Guru’s wishes, Tam was labeled as the Guru’s “Chosen One.” Chinmoy dictated every aspect of her family home, her parents employment, education, dress, diet. Good girl that she was, Tamm lived to please her guru, reveling in each smile and praise he bestowed.

Tamm unabashedly writes of her devotion to Guru. Being raised in mainstream America while living in a cult house and family, Tamm experienced inevitable conflicts with public school social dynamics. Hiding her home life from school friends, she was set apart and unable to socialize with those in both public and private schools. Ever afraid that her families’ uniqueness would be discovered, Tamm lived a dual life. Yet she continued in devotion to guru, struggling and repressing her interest in boys so that she could remain on Guru’s spiritual path.

In her early twenties, Tamm began to realize that she had lived in a bubble her entire life. She was socially crippled when interacting with non cult members. She felt safe and assured of her place when within familiar repressive cult dynamics.

Tamm had traveled the world, met many politician and celebrities through Chinmoy’s contacts, yet she experienced the world only as Guru dictated. Everyone she loved also experienced the world only as their Guru, their God incarnate, dictated.

More than any cult memoir I’ve read, Tamm dramatically writes of the traumatic moment when she realized that her Guru is a fraud. Therefore Tamm, herself, and all that she had ever known was also fraudulent. Without guru, she had no identity, no family, no social world, no worldview, no God. Upon this realization as a non person, Tamm ran through her home seeking the most expedient method to end the fraud through suicide. Fortunately for all, her third floor apartment was not high enough to warrant a jump, her bread knife was dull, and the medicine cabinet held no medication since she had never seen a doctor.

In the psychological destruction of all that she knew, Tamm was forced to become a self determined individual. Her mother eventually left the group. Tamm’s brother remains devoted to Shri Chinmoy, ceasing contact with Tamm, since he could not support her destructive (e.g. non cult) choices.

For all who were raised in a cult, Tamm’s story is a variation on a theme. Her ability to describe the journey through a fantasy world that she both loved and despised, and subsequently move forward is testament to her great strength and determination.

Tamm’s writing proves that she is not a fraud. Her upbringing is real, an integral part of who she is today. Her compassionate voice, quest for honesty and love is a human theme told through the post-1960s idealism. Through her memoir, Tamm provides a service to all who struggle with cult history.

More about Jayanti Tamm can be read at her website: www.jayantitamm.com

“David Wants to Fly” in USA

For those awaiting North American showings of Sieveking’ compassionate expose’ as he journeys through Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s Transcendental Meditation Movement, his film is featured in upcoming film festivals in Palm Springs, San Francisco, Denver and Boston.

Palm Springs : Palm Springs International Film Festival, January 7th, 11 am, January 10th 7 pm, and January 12th 10 am, ticket purchase here.

Denver : Festivus Film Festival : January 15th 8 pm, Oriental Theater, ticket purchase here.

San Francisco: German Gems Film Festival, January 16th 4 pm, Castro Theater
ticket purchase here.

Boston: The DocYard, March 15th 7 pm, Brattle Theatre in Cambridge.
Tickets will soon be available here.

“David Wants to Fly” received awards from film festivals throughout Europe.

In this film, the aspiring filmmaker documents his initial enthrall with his idol, filmmaker David Lynch. Taking Lynch’s advice to learn Transcendental Meditation to free his inner creativity, Sieveking was briefly brought under Lynch’s wing to film the international glory of the TM Movement. Instead, Sieveking found a mystical hierarchy, unstructured science, and questionable finances.

As Sieveking told me, “I was kicked out the Movement before I had fully joined! Once I started asking questions, they wouldn’t allow me on further courses and refused to answer my phone calls.”

In this film, Sieveking humorously and compassionately calls out the elephant in the room – the behemoth TM Movement.

New Year’s Day 2011

Happy New Year 2011!

Through the fog outside my window, the sun rises earlier than it did only a week ago. The day creeps longer. The year changes. Nature provides another renewal milestone.

Some partied last night, others slept early to begin today refreshed. Some have New Year’s resolutions, others prepare business goals or taxes, still others clean closets, plan upcoming vacations, or anticipate milestones planned for 2011.

For millennia, the change from depth of winter to increasing daylight was cause of reflection.

In ancient Rome the winter solstice was honored for rebirth of Apollo the sun god. Simultaneous celebrations for Saturn, god of agriculture, occurred for a week of festivities at year’s end – Saturnalia. Crowds once gathered in Rome’s streets to sing and dance by candlelight honoring winter’s depth with anticipation of sunnier days to accompany the next year’s harvest.

Early Christians’ isolated prayerful lifestyle was the antithesis of Romans’ raucous preferences, making it difficult for Christians to convert Romans to their faith.

In the early 4th century A.D. Constantine’s wife had adopted Christianity.
Emperor Constantine then officially declared December 25 as Jesus’ birthday. This allowed the Roman government to sponsor a birth-of-Jesus celebration amidst birth-of-Apollo hoopla.

Constantine’s government added Jesus’ birthday celebration to Rome’s year end revelry, with candlelight and singing in the streets. In the early 4th century A.D., Rome’s officials gradually increased support for Jesus’ birthday festivities, allowing Apollo’s solstice celebration to fade from common memory.

Early sculptures of baby Jesus transposed the same infant face for Jesus as had appeared on sculptures of infant Apollo, easing the worshipful transition to baby Jesus away from baby Apollo. Jesus’ December birthday proved a successful recruitment tool for Christianity to honor midwinter renewal. The once-new tradition continues 1700 years later. Throngs still gather annually at Roman Catholicism’s greatest symbol, in the Vatican’s Piazza San Pietro, for the Pope’s annual Christmas mass and public New Year blessing. Appearances changed; Roman tradition remains.

Regardless of historic or religious context, midwinter celebration continues with the return of sunlight, new life, vital crops, and loved ones. Today, the secular world begins 2011 with personal renewal, to-do lists, plans and obstacles to overcome.

Honoring the season of renewal, I recommit to writing endeavors. Inner doubts and barriers must be laid aside to focus upon stories’ linguistic details.

Through this juncture of darkness-to-light, rebirth and resolutions, may all awaken their personal baby Apollo-Jesus with new year growth. Happiness comes through celebrating the process, not only upon reaching an elusive goal. May all nurture a life of values while dancing toward dreams.

Wishing a blessed, healthy, strong 2011 to all!

“Mamalita: An Adoption Memoir” by Jessica ODwyer


Jessica O’Dwyer, author of “Mamalita” spoke as a voice of valor, compassion, humility and, most importantly, of determined love for her Guatemalan born children at last evening’s author reading at Book Passage in Corte Madera, California.

A few years ago, the petite blond sitting with me in Linda Watanabe McFerrin’s writing class at Book Passage had once surprised me with essays based upon her Guatemala experiences. Unlike many of my upper middle class caucasian peers in Marin County, Jessica O’Dwyer delved into depths of a society that many educated middle class Americans cannot fathom.

Jessica’s writing expresses a personal humility and compassion for a people trapped in poverty. “Mamalita, An Adoption Memoir” by Jessica O’Dwyer brings American and European readers upon her circuitous journey to motherhood. Driven by maternal love, Jessica, her husband, and their daughter had unwittingly become entangled in a corrupt international adoption enterprise.

Jessica uses the skills of a talented mystery writer to lead readers from her comfortable, loving California life to devastating news of her medical condition causing youthful sterility. A desire to adopt led Jessica and her husband to an adoption agency specializing in children from Guatemala.

From my experiences of Guatemala, I felt a rapid kinship to Jessica in our writing group. Her words eloquently describe the beauty and pain that is Guatemala through eyes of a white mother enamored with her brown daughter.

It happens that my cousin Steven, a sarcastic New York attorney, used to joke about his beloved Guatemalan-born daughter, “She’s the best daughter I ever bought!” Knowing how my cousin adores his daughter, and his New Yorker sarcasm, I do not find him offensive. He calls things as he sees them, no offense intended.

Having worked as a health care volunteer in Guatemala and Indonesia, along with my current work on the Berkeley-Oakland border, I have been close to countless stories of motherhood involving violence, starvation, murder, poverty, of corrupt systems resulting in children essentially sold to adoptive parents. Yet no one, to my knowledge, had written these stories with both confusion and compassion for all involved parties.

While aspects of Jessica’s story resemble others I’ve heard. Jessica’s telling of her story is unique. She writes with a compassion for poverty and challenges of those who know only the corrupt world where they must survive, even when that involves placing a price upon a child’s life. Jessica gently describes both the loss and reward inherent in adoption.

For example, when I worked in Guatemala in 1997, one comadrona (birth attendant) was beheaded as a symbolic gesture for my birthday. Banditos had broken into the comadrona’s dirt-floored home in the middle of the night. They chopped off her head in front of her family because she had worked with us, the northern Americano health care team. The American CIA had largely subsidized the recently ended civil war in Guatemala. Banditos feared that comadronas would sell babies to us.

“Mamalita” does not avoid addressing the realities of this challenging but beautiful country; she shares tragic stories enveloped in her focused motherly devotion.

Violence is a fact of life wherever poverty prevails. Yet these stories are rarely told through personal narratives driven by love and compassion. Great tragedies are usually illustrated through tallies summarized by various Public Health associations, the World Health Organization, UNICEF, Save the Children, and the United Nations. Statistics on poverty, human trafficking, rape, embezzlement and corruption are necessary measures. Statistics do not tug heartstrings like personal vignettes.

Through “Mamalita,” Jessica grows through the love for her daughter. She awakens to experiences of racism through the contrast between her daughter’s nutmeg colored skin with thick black hair and Jessica’s fair complexion with blond tresses. She details, costs, paperwork, corruption, bribery and layer upon layer of her painful realization to both the assumed entitlements inherent in her, our, North American life and the realization that another’s life can be purchased.

After falling in love with her daughter, their adoption process dragged for nearly two years, until Jessica (finally) realized that money talks. International adoption is an often corrupt business.

Humble passion shines through the written word in “Mamalita.” She compassionately develops a relationship with her child’s birth mother, while expressing concern for her young daughter’s ability to bond after so much loss. Jessica’s keen writing engages the reader to her discovery and revulsion of how the world turns in third world adoptions. Both Jessica and her readers are changed by her story.

For an inspirational and realistic view of international adoption, now closed in Guatemala but still applicable to other areas of the world, please read Jessica O’Dwyer’s “Mamalita.”

Personal tales of those suffering because of political, economic and historic inequities need to be shared. Through those who have the fortitude to detail their tales, society may hope to address institutionalized abuses wherever they occur.

“Mamalita” stands as a heartfelt story of victory, courage and determination to inspire all concerned about global maternal-child health and family.

Click to purchase “Mamalita” from Book Passage or amazon.

Click to read Jessica’s ongoing blog about her ethnically mixed family and adoption issues : http://www.mamalitathebook.com/

“That’s Not in Our Birth Plan!”

“Stop that! That’s not in the birth plan!” Jerry nudged aside the nurse focused upon resuscitating his newborn son. Gladys didn’t budge, sweat beaded along her brow line. She resisted Jerry’s pressure while holding the tiny oxygen mask snugly over the infant’s face, gently squeezing the green ambu bag with her other hand … one, two, three.. forcing oxygen into the waxen floppy infant’s lungs.

“I told you, that’s not in the birth plan! The baby needs to be in Donna’s arms!” Jerry continued, standing helplessly at the bedside warmer while watching Gladys work on his son.

Gladys concentrated upon the task before her. She stopped briefly, placing the stethoscope on the baby’s chest to hear the heartbeat, and air movement. The baby was gaining some color, and taking an occasional gasp. She returned to squeezing the oxygen bag with her experienced hands…one, two three… whispering under her breath, “C’mon baby, take a breath now, c’mon, you can do it.”

Only moments before, Donna gave birth this baby. During a long difficult labor, she developed a fever requiring intravenous antibiotics. Her well intentioned, but slightly deranged partner Jerry, had at various times removed the IV tubing from Donna’s arm, and argued with nurses, midwives and physicians about care for Donna’s fever.

Jerry had insisted that antibiotics were delayed until Donna’s fever had lasted for several hours, rather than immediately as medically indicated. He refused to listen when told that such a fever was potentially fatal for Donna and their unborn child. At one worrisome moment when the baby’s heartbeat dropped, he had argued, “I don’t care if the baby dies! This is about my wife’s experience! We have a birth plan!” Susan, the hospital nurse-midwife finally had called in the obstetrician to more forcefully explain the necessity of Donna’s medical treatment during labor.

Susan now listened to commotion surrounding the baby warmer while she focused upon Donna’s perineum. Twelve inches of umbilical cord hung from between Donna’s labia. Blood trickled down. Susan reached her left hand to Donna’s abdomen with a green scrub towel, feeling if the uterus had contracted to release the placenta. She made eye contact with Donna and smiled, “It’ll be OK.” Then looked to see if the intravenous pitocin was running. An infected uterus doesn’t contract well, either to give birth or to prevent excessive blood loss. This uterus needed to contract and release the placenta to control Donna’s bleeding. Intravenous pitocin would help the uterus contract and minimize blood loss.

Birth is a sensory experience. Nursing, midwifery and medical schools teach algorithms of blood pressure, hydration status, medication titration, labor curves. Experienced birth attendants, however, respond viscerally to birth. They know the sounds and scents of a laboring woman, the touch of an effective uterine contraction beneath their palm, the odor of infection, the tone of a healthy postpartum uterus. Even before the first breath, a healthy newborn has a distinct muscle tone and color. The first few breaths may sound a little moist, but they should be effortless. Like a farmer evaluating healthy soil, an experienced birth attendant feels the texture of a healthy placenta and knows if the growing fetus was well-nourished.

Like finely tuned hearing of a blind person, Susan’s senses were heightened at the moment of birth. She’s often thought that birth is her greatest spiritual practice, the Zen of living in the moment. At the moment of birth, she absorbs sensory input and responds accordingly. The analytic brain had integrated didactic information from education, and now responded automatically to surrounding sights, sounds and scents.

Seeing the IV tube empty, Susan asked Fanny, the Registered Nurse, “Please check the IV to be sure it’s running.” With one hand feeling Donna’s abdomen, her other continued gentle traction on the umbilical cord to detect placental detachment. The cord felt hot, even through her latex glove. She thought to herself, “this baby has been baking in a febrile uterus, no wonder it’s too tired to breathe.”

Susan listened to her right, without turning her head, to the baby beneath Gladys’s hands. At last she was relieved to heard the muffled sound of a baby cry beneath the oxygen mask. Donna’s bleeding continued in front of her.

“Fanny, draw a syringe of methergine.” She asked the nurse for an extra medication to manage a hemorrhage. “We’ll also need to culture the placenta and send it to pathology.”

Susan knew that Jerry would object to placental studies to identify the infectious bacteria. Medically, it was important to identify the source and type of pathogen that caused this infection.

Jerry had insisted they bring the placenta home to dry and encapsulate it for deemed natural health benefits. This labor and birth had not gone according to the couple’s carefully designed plan. They would learn soon enough that much of parenting does not go according to plan!

Susan smiled as the IV began to drip its clear fluid into the tubing. Without releasing her hand on the uterus or umbilical cord. Susan then asked Gladys, “How’s it going?” inquiring about the baby.

“He’s beginning to breathe, still retracting though.” The sound of the ambu bag stopped, and Susan knew that the baby must be breathing on his own. She finally relaxed into a full exhale. The baby was breathing, but retractions meant the baby was straining to breathe.

Jerry interjected “Then give the baby to Donna, now!” Susan turned to see the baby still flaccid, with minimal muscle tone. The baby had good color now. Gladys massaged the baby to help it along. “Now!” Jerry demanded, beginning to push Gladys away.

Claiming authority in the delivery room, Susan turned to Jerry, “Jerry, Stop. Let us help Donna and your baby. We support natural childbirth when all is healthy. The hospital provides medical support when necessary. Donna and the baby are sick and need extra help. When things are stable, we will put your precious son into Donna’s arms. We promise!”

Jerry responded, “You’ve gone against everything we wanted in our birth plan!”

Still massaging Donna’s abdomen, and gently holding the umbilical cord, Susan took a deep breath, “Jerry, we explained each variation to you. Complications began before you and Donna arrived here. You’re still together, we’ve kept you informed each step. Donna had an infection. This was not predictable. We don’t want to call security to have you leave. Please, allow to us work for your wife and son. Donna needs your support now.”

Jerry had been pacing the hospital floor for hours, firing a series of nurses, midwives and doctors from his wife’s care. His uncontrolled anxiety manifested by obstructing care for his sick partner and child.

Natural childbirth can be an awe-inspiring experience for a healthy woman and family. As a midwife, that was Susan’s specialty. Susan appreciated this hospital because of their commitment to avoiding unnecessary medical intervention. The high volume and acuity of this setting dictated a careful distribution of resources. Those who need medical intervention or surgery were treated. As a nurse-midwife Susan provided natural support for healthy women, and could likewise assist those with complications

Only patients requiring medical intervention should be treated medically. Healthy women were encouraged to labor naturally without intervention. Susan standardly placed newborn’s directly upon their mother’s belly, delivered in low lighting, delayed cutting the umbilical cord for maximum newborn oxygenation. But when situations demanded otherwise, the high tech skills and experience of this staff could save a woman’s and baby’s life within seconds.

Susan’s thoughts were pulled back as Donna’s vagina gushed more blood, the placenta was beginning to detach. Donna leaned her head back with closed eyes, exhausted and febrile.

Jerry turned to Susan “Let go of that umbilical cord. We don’t want you to pull the placenta out, it needs to come out on its own.”

Fanny picked up the phone, “I’m calling security.” Fanny had patiently worked with this challenging situation for hours. She reached her limit.

Susan sighed thinking that knowledge is a good thing, but too little knowledge can be dangerous.

“The placenta is detaching on its own now. I’m just guiding the placenta out Donna’s vagina, not forcing it.” Susan explained to Jerry. Gently guiding the umbilical cord down and then up, along the angles of Donna’s pelvis, the glistening blue-white of placenta became visible at Donna’s vulva. Jerry stood still and watched..

“The placenta’s coming now. You don’t have to call security.” Susan told Fanny, she removed her hand from Donna’s abdomen to catch the hot organ in her hands. “Please massage her uterus.”

Fanny, exhausted as she was, reached over and massaged Donna’s soft uterus to minimize blood loss. Susan held the abnormally warm placenta in her hands, examining for tears, missing sections, the insertion of the umbilical cord, and presence of the entire amniotic sac.

She held the placenta up with one hand inside, spreading the membranes open, like a wet plastic bag “Here’s your baby’s first house. He was folded up inside this bag. The placenta worked as his liver, lungs and digestion. Now he works for himself. You’ll grow a new placenta for your next pregnancy.”

The excessive heat from the placenta, confirmed the need for special care with this baby. The placenta had good texture she thought, not shredding like that of a chain smoker, or someone with lifelong malnutrition such as placentas of many immigrant women from third world countries. Once the infection is resolved, the baby will be fine, thought Susan to herself.

She wondered if infection could have been avoided if Donna had not waited to come to the hospital until two days after her membranes had been ruptured. Studies show an increased risk of infection to mother and baby if labor does not begin within 24 hours after the amniotic sac ruptures.

In this case, Donna and Jerry stayed home for two days after the water broke, awaiting spontaneous labor. Susan wondered if they had secretly planned to give birth at home, unattended. It was obvious they were well read on the subject of natural childbirth, but unaware of medical complexities.

By the time Donna arrived to the hospital, she was already beginning to develop a fever and had not slept for 2 days. Her body was ill prepared for labor. Donna wasn’t yet infected upon arrival to the hospital, but her risk was high. The obstetric team augmented her labor with pitocin to bring on labor. Even then Jerry had objected to her IV presence interfering with their planned natural birth. Fortunately Donna’s fever spiked close to delivery so was able to continue for a vaginal birth, nearly three days after her membranes had ruptured.

Birth plans for a healthy birth are a good thing, just as are career plans or home remodeling plans. However, all planners must adapt when unanticipated circumstances arise. In this situation, lack of adaption can have fatal consequences.

Susan wondered how can one graciously teach common sense to idealistic young parents in the high emotion climate of labor and birth. Parenthood will be full of many more such unintended surprises and redirections.

“Remember, we will take the placenta home.” said Jerry as he reached for the stainless steel bowl holding the placenta on the delivery table. “We need to encapsulate it to help Donna’s uterus contract and protect from hemorrhage.”

“Jerry, please leave it on the table for now. We’ll discuss it in a moment, let me be sure Donna is stable first.” Jerry pulled his hand back to his side.

Susan felt Donna’s contracted uterus, like a firm grapefruit in her lower abdomen, a good sign. The bleeding slowed to a scant amount. Susan picked up a white gauze pad, holding it up for Donna to see, “This might feel rough, I need to touch you with this gauze to examine for lacerations and see if you need stitches, just warning you.” Donna nodded.

Everyone smiled as the baby finally released a lusty, but crackly, cry. Only five minutes had passed since birth. It seemed like an eternity.

Susan turned her head, briefly making eye contact with Gladys, “Good job, as always! Thank you.” Gladys and Susan quietly chuckled, as they both signed with relief. “We must stop meeting like this.” smiled Susan. This birth came uncomfortably close to a bad outcome.

Returning to her task at hand, Susan said, “Donna, you don’t need any stitches. You pushed well, and your skin stretched perfectly. Your bleeding is under control. I’ll just wash you off, then you can breastfeed your son.”

Gladys brought the baby to Donna’s extended arms. “Your son is beautiful. Congratulations.” smiled Gladys as she gently placed the newborn into his parents’ arms. Jerry and Donna gazed at their new son in their arms, with fatigued amazement and adoration. They had waited months for this moment.

Fanny said “Let’s remove your gown so you can hold your baby skin to skin. That’s the best for both of you.” Susan washed Donna’s bottom, then turned to put away her instruments. Fanny and Gladys made their medical notes.

“Why isn’t he breastfeeding yet?” demanded Jerry.

Susan sighed, “He’ll have a sucking reflex within the next 30 minutes or so. He’s really tired and still learning to breathe. He’ll breastfeed soon.”

Gladys added, “Because the baby and Donna were infected, after he nurses, we’ll have to bring him to the Neonatal Intensive Care nursery for observation and evaluation. We know that’s not in your plan, but infection wasn’t in the plan either. We’ll wait about an hour now before bringing him up. Breastfeeding is important; we do everything we can to support it. Donna will have free access to breastfeed even while the baby is in the NICU.”

Jerry looked to Susan, Susan nodded to confirm Gladys’s words. Susan thought once again how much she appreciated this hospital. Bonding and breastfeeding time is valued here; even a sick baby, if stable, has time with his parents before being brought to the nursery. Not all hospitals make such an effort.

Fanny placed the placenta into a container for the pathology studies. Susan decided to delay informing Jerry of the need to evaluate the placenta. Allow them this quiet time, thought Susan; we can burst this bubble in another hour.

Donna, as the infected laboring woman, had been amenable to changes as her labor proceeded outside of normal. Jerry vehemently resisted his loss of control throughout. Allow them this uninterrupted time to settle with their new babe could calm the unrest.

Outside at the nurses station, Susan documented details in Donna’s chart. Lydia, another nurse, began rubbing Susan’s shoulders. “Oh, thank you!” said Susan as her shoulders relaxed.

“You worked hard for that one!” responded Lydia.

On the postpartum order sheet, Susan scribbled for a social worker evaluation for Donna, knowing that controlling partners can often be abusive. Susan wished she could order a psychologist for Jerry.

When Susan finished writing, Lydia stopped the shoulder massage to ask, “The woman in room 5 is requesting an exam, she wants to know if she’s progressing. Shall I check her or would you prefer to?”

Susan responded, “Thanks for asking, Lydia. As the bedside nurse, you are more aware of her progress than me. Please would you check cervical dilation and let me know your exam. I need to stop for a breather.”

Deanna, another nurse handed the phone to Susan, “It’s for you. Triage asked to speak with you.”

Susan took the phone and heard, “ We have a woman in active labor for you. She’s having her 6th baby, with a history of fast labors. She’s 6 centimeters dilated now, appears to be moving fast.” Susan felt her adrenalin rise as she heard this news. The voice on the phone continued, “She had limited prenatal care and a history of cocaine use during the pregnancy. Her blood pressure is elevated.”

Susan sighed, “I’m coming now.”

The triage nurse continued, “And we also have a Cantonese speaking woman with ruptured membranes in early labor. She’s a normal midwife patient except for history of a previous cesarean section in China.”

Susan walked around the nursing station desk toward the triage area and nearly bumped into Teresa and Sean as they exited the operating suites. “Did you section the triplets?” Susan asked the obstetricians.

“Yes” Sean responded, “all went well.”

“Whew! How much did they weigh?” Susan asked, knowing they were very premature.

“We don’t know yet.” Sean responded, “But they’re breathing well and on their way upstairs to the NICU. The third one was so small I held her in my palm. She looked up and blinked at me. Amazing.”

Teresa interjected, “Did the infected woman in room 8 deliver?”

“Yes, all is well. Her husband has a lot to learn about priorities.”

Teresa raised her right palm for a high-five. “Good job! We really wanted to avoid having them in the O.R.!”

“No kidding! We aim to please” Susan slapped Teresa’s raised hand while walking past. “I’ve got to admit a couple in triage now. I’ve got it handled. Maybe we can catch up for coffee later?”

Sean walked down the hall, “I”m headed to the postpartum unit.”

“Call me if you need me.” Teresa said as Susan walked away.

“You know I will!” Susan called back over her shoulder.

Alisha looked up as Susan entered the triage area, “Sorry to have more for you, I know this has been a rough day.”

“Hey, no worries. Job security is a beautiful thing!”

Jill Mytton “Root of All Evil?”

Leaving a cult, or any dogmatic group, creates both an inner turbulence and opportunity for personal rebirth.

As in physical childbirth, personal rebirth requires one to expand in unforeseen ways.

In the video linked below renowned science author, Richard Dawkins, interviews professional psychologist Jill Mytton for the UK’s channel 4 documentary, “Root of All Evil?”

In this interview Jill discusses vestigial effects for those who, like herself, were raised in a limiting dogmatic group. She was raised in The Exclusive Brethren. Jill Mytton left the group at the age of sixteen when her parents decided to leave their ancestors’ community, bringing their children with them. Decades later, Jill continues to work in the field of cult research and recovery.

In this interview, Jill addresses what she’s learned as a psychologist and researcher on lasting effects from cults. She and Richard discuss the process of learning to think for oneself and integrating into larger society.

About half way through the interview, Richard Dawkins suggests the American predilection toward extreme religious groups may be related to our society of immigrants. Joining a defining group may provide a social network to substitute for extended family left in the country of origin.

Richard Dawkins opens the topic of intense group recruitment for new University students, the vulnerability to recruitment during life changes. Jill Mytton articulates the phenomenon of pleasurable endorphins from religious ritual, intense singing, and love bombing recruitment tactics.

The interview below, from “The Root of all Evil” takes about an hour. This discourse addresses human vulnerabilities and long ranging effects of extremism. Their discussion is useful for all who work in healthcare, education or those desiring to be an educated member of society.

When you have the time, please click on the link below to warch this excellent interview. You will expand your view of society, religion, and limitations of the law in a free society.

If the above video link does not work for you, then click here to see the same video interview.