here's where we are today

i took my yoga class. haven't been back since, but it's stayed with me. yoga is more important off the mat, anyway.

i went to acupuncture to get my chi flowing.

i have been reading my buddha books again. and i am finding some peace. of course i am not all better, but as far as the anger at the people who don't deserve it, i am letting go.

but then there were these two blog posts and a comment that got me thinking. the thoughts are rolling around in my head. so here i am letting them out. working through them. trying to figure it all out.

for one thing, i have decided that i will only be responding to a need for help when the help is asked for. i will reach out to people who are open and receptive. and the rest i will let go. i can accept that a parent can only make the choices that he or she is ready for right now in this lifetime. i can't change anyone. i can support other mothers if i know their decisions are made out of love, but when decisions are made out of selfishness, i believe that to be another story. i can't support that. i can keep my mouth shut (most of the time), but i cannot support it. babies are too too precious for us to treat them as if they matter so little.

so do i still judge? you bet. we all do. it's human nature. i'm working on it.

but here is the difference. i would never say something to a woman to make her feel bad for her parenting choices. yes, i say it here in my blog. but i don't force anyone to read my blog. people know where i am coming from. they don't have to read it. i say it on my facebook page that was set up specifically so i could say these things. i do not say it to a mother in line at the grocery store (well i did once, but i would never again). or to my friend. or to a cousin. or to anyone.

some say that if we don't want to be judged for our choices, we should not judge others. again, everyone judges. the trouble comes when we let those judgments out to hurt feelings. i would never outright tell a mother that she is making a wrong choice or that i think i know best. i may think these things in my head, and we all do and that's okay, but i would never let it out.

i do, however, find it amusing that so many feel it is okay to tell me that i should not have my baby in bed with me, that i should not still be nursing my son, that i should not pick him up every time he cries, that i should vaccinate him, that i should not have my baby at home, etc. etc. the difference is, though, that when someone says those things to me or about me, i don't care. it annoys the shit out of me that they think it's okay to say it, but it does not make me question what i am doing, nor does it make me feel guilty about my decisions. does it make me lose respect for the person. hell yes. does it make me keep them at a distance? for sure. but i say judge away!

i judge because i believe that our world is affected by the way people are born and by the way they are cared for as babies. i believe this because my gut tells me it is true. and because the research backs it up.

oh i know, you can find research to back up anything.

but i have yet to see research that proves that breast feeding is unhealthy (no matter how long it's done). i have never seen an ounce of research to prove that babies are not harmed in some way by being left alone to cry. i have never seen research that says it is not harmful to put a baby in your choice of plastic and to ignore it. i have not seen research that proves it is unsafe for a breast feeding mother to sleep in bed with her baby.

of course, it is impossible to prove that something is not harmful.

but i have read lots of research stating the opposite to be true.

so i am working on being unconsumed by it all. i am working on letting go. the buddha reminds me that suffering comes from the attachment to the idea that things should be different, not from the thing itself. so i am working on it.

and in the end, most of the babies will be fine. my hope is that in the future, we will all be more than fine.

pumping and working -- with love from guest blogger meredith

meredith is a super mom. i remember when we first met up together after having a baby, we chatted about all of the nursing challenges we had faced. i remember her saying specifically, "quitting just wasn't an option." i reference this quote often. it's just like anything else, if you enter a challenge with the idea of trying it out or seeing if it will work, undoubtedly, you will fail. if quitting is not an option, you will figure something out. you will make it work. just like meredith did. she went back to work and pumped for an entire school year. she had enough extra milk that she was able to supply other moms who needed milk for their babies with her own liquid love. my friend used her milk while her baby was in the nicu for months. there are so many stories of women who have made it work, against the odds, when others would have just given a bottle of artificial milk. i hope that these women will speak out and share their stories, too. more women need to understand that where there is a will, there is a way. if it's important to you, you can do it. and with a support network such as the one we have created on facebook, it makes it that much easier. so if you are a working mom, or are planning to go back to work after having your baby, or know someone who is, please ask to join meredith's facebook page. share it out. because if a mom wants to continue nursing, going back to work should not stop her. it's even law now that employers must provide a suitable and comfortable location THAT IS NOT A BATHROOM for moms so that they can pump. so here is a little something from meredith about meredith.



I breastfed until I was 4. I helped my mom pump for my sister. I tandem nursed with my younger sister. I grew up in a log cabin in the woods with my hippy parents. I guess you can say I was destined to be a breastfeeding mom.

From the time I got pregnant with Brayden in June of 2009, I knew I was going to breastfeed. There was no other option for me. And then when Brayden was born four weeks early on January 28, 2010, I was in for a challenge. He was so little & had so much trouble latching on. Thank goodness for my mom, my husband, & the nipple shield. Without these three things, I would have given up. Each day got easier & we fell into a groove & are still going strong almost 19 months later!

I knew I would have to go back to teaching that September, when Brayden was about 7 months old. With college loans, credit card debt, mortgage, & all the other fun expenses of being an adult, it was not an option for me to stay home, even though I wanted to so badly. However, I am very lucky with my childcare situation – my husband is a firefighter who works one 24-hour shift & then has three days off, so he is home with B most of the time & the other days a friend would watch B at our house or I would drop him off to go play with his friends & their stay-at-home moms.

I started pumping in June a bit so when I taught summer school for 5 weeks, 4 days a week, 3 hours a day, Brayden could still have my milk if he wanted when I was gone. So he would nurse before I left in the morning, then would sometimes take a bottle when I was away from him, & then he’d nurse as soon as I got home. Then in August I started pumping more frequently to prepare my freezer for my first school year as a working mom.

I knew that pumping at work would take some getting used to when teaching started up in September. It would be a daily occurrence – I would have 27 minutes, yes ONLY 27 minutes, to pee, pump, & eat. I was getting nervous just thinking about it. Was this even possible? But I knew I wanted Brayden to have breastmilk each & every day even when I was not there, so it was just something I had to get adjusted to doing every single school day. Back in July, I had ordered a Simple Wishes Hands-Free Pumping Bra from Amazon. This would allow me to eat, check Facebook, read e-mails, etc. while I pumped. This was the best $30 I ever spent! If you are going back to work, this is a must-have!

So I fell into a routine of running to the bathroom right after my advisory class, locking my classroom door, sitting down in a desk, getting the pump all set up, eating, packing up all the pump parts, & making sure I was ready for my 6th period class all in 27 minutes. When my body became adjusted to pumping, I was able to pump an average of 8-10 ounces each day. Just remember if you only get 3-5 ounces in a pumping session in the beginning, this is totally normal. Your body needs time to get used to the pump, so don’t give up!

As Brayden’s first birthday approached in January, I figured I’d stop pumping. This is what I had heard people talk about – only pumping until their baby was one. But Brayden was still taking some breastmilk from a bottle almost every day, so I didn’t want to deny him that. So I continued to pump until June. It had become second nature to me, so it was no big deal!

At almost 19 months, Brayden still nurses 3-4 times a day & a few times throughout the night. Whether he is nursing for comfort or food, I don’t care. I just cherish these special bonding times that we have together, just the two of us.

Our nursing relationship has continued to be strong even though I had to be away from him from 8:00am to 3:30pm, Monday through Friday from September to June. I would try to nurse him in the morning before work if he wanted to, pump at work, and then we would nurse right when I arrived home. This was a great way for me to relax after work & reconnect & touch base with Brayden after my work day. Then he would continue to nurse quite a bit the rest of the afternoon & evening as if to catch up for missed nursing sessions during the day.

As another school year approaches, I start to get sad that I have to be away from my little boy again, but I know that we will always be able to catch up when I get home over warm breastmilk.

practice

today, i took my first yoga class alone since before you were conceived. it's been over three years.

you and i took yoga classes together when you were a little baby. you were starting to walk and i couldn't do much yoga. i had to follow you around bending over holding your fingers and walk around the studio while everyone else practiced yoga. you never were one for sitting still. and when i was pregnant with you, i took classes. i loved it. especially with flossie. she made it so primal. so beautiful. but it was more about connecting with you than it was about me. i also have done a bit over teaching over these past three years. but that's just not the same. teaching yoga and practicing yoga are two very different things.

i haven't done much for just me over the past three years. that's not a complaint. just an observation. so it was nice to do this today.

but today's class was the first one in which i actually did some yoga that pushed me, that made me sweat, that stretched my body and my mind. it was fantabulously awesome. your dad took you to the park with your cousins while i practiced. i didn't worry about you at all. i knew that what i was doing for me was good for you. and i can't wait to go back.

however, i was ridiculed by my ego the entire time. of course, right across from me sat a super cool chick with facial piercings and rad tattoos and funky blonde hair. she had a beautiful practice. i couldn't stop thinking about how cool she was and how much i wanted to be more like her. and of course, the instructor jumped right in after only two sun salutes with one of my most challenging postures...PIGEON. i hate pigeon pose. i know, i am not supposed to hate yoga poses. but i hate this one. i hate it because it brings things up. it's hard. and i want so badly to do it.

so about halfway through the class i got a grip on my ego. i thought about the blonde chick (and remembered pocahontas from years back. remember her, nz?) and i thought that maybe she has had an easy life and nothing has gotten in the way of her practice. and then i thought maybe she had a lot of shit thrown her way and this was what saved her. and then i thought, does it matter? she has her practice. and she loves it. and i have mine. though it's not what it used to be and i have no idea what it will ever be again, it's my practice.

the funny thing is that afterwards, we went to school to clean out my old classroom. it has someone else's name above the door now. that made me feel kind of weird and sad. and then i cleaned out my stuff. i gave most of it to your dad for his classroom. and lots went into the trash or recycling bin. i walked out with a bag of yoga mats from when i used to own the studio and a box full of random buddha statues and the like that kids had given me over the years. i thought that was very appropriate.

and then i remembered that the first time i resigned from a teaching job, i was on my way to my first kids' yoga teacher training in nyc with jodi komitor. i was starting a new life. this time, i've already started my new life. but today, as i closed the door on one chapter, i re-opened a door to another. my yoga is still there. and so is the buddha.

bringing buddha back

i realize that much of my suffering -- anger frustration guilt regret jealousy and the rest -- is caused by greed, just like the buddha taught.

my desire to be able to reverse time, to hold cooper in my arms, to be able to change people's minds and actions, to change my own past actions, to get pregnant easily, to carry a baby without fear, to have my home birth, to make your dad behave in the ways that i want him to, and everything else that causes that rage to bubble up inside, is causing me to suffer. it's making me heavy. i don't laugh or love like i used to.

your dad misses me. he misses who i used to be. and i miss that, too. i miss who we used to be before it all.

i am not who i was before. and i never will be again. i can't fix that. i can't go back. but i can work on bringing a little bit of me back. the part that let things roll. that accepted other people. that didn't stress about things that i had no control over. that part i can bring back. i used to love people. and accept them for where they were. i used to laugh more. and smile more. and be, well, just lighter.

but things happened. i lost cooper. we struggled with getting pregnant with you. you ended up being pulled out of my womb by a doctor with a mask on instead of being born peacefully into your dad's arms like we had planned. and then you were you. you challenge me every step of the way. and while your dad and i came together like magnets in all of those other times of sadness and pain, when you were born we just seemed to repel each other's forces. it's been so hard. the past three and a half years have been so hard.

but here's the thing. i want to be light again. to be easy. to laugh. to let things roll. i want love and acceptance. i want you to have a mom who laughs a lot. and not just with you. i want you to see me laugh with others. and with your dad.

i need to bring buddha back.

guilt. anger. regret.

i was just straightening up some papers and came across my prenatal records form my pregnancy with you. once again, i am sorry i was so trusting of the doctors, i am sorry i let you down. i am sorry. i dropped the ball. i let you die.

here is how it goes:

12/17/07 c/o brownish discharge since last week; spec exam, minor brown discharge
12/19/07 pink spotting persists
12/26/07 c/o brown discharge
1/30/08 terazol 7 (this was dr white's plan for dealing with my recurring c/o brown discharge)
1/31/08 increase fluid/blood per vagina all day, U/S - no fluid, to l&d

and that was that.


final report after you were gone:

placenta demonstrating chorionic villous edema, mild chorioamnionitis and funistitis

yup. an infection in my placenta. and in the bag of water that was keeping you safe. and no one caught it. no one. and i didn't keep fighting with them until they did. i let them let you die.

summary --
hospital course: contractions developed every 3 minutes. cervix closed, thick and anterior. sent to l&d for closer monitoring. developed a temperature of 101.4 with diagnosis this point of being chorioamnionitis (they never once told me that in the hospital. i found out from the high risk doc weeks later.) she was started on pitocin and augmented for delivery. (jesus how i wish i knew what i know now and i wish i had the fight in me then.) six hours later the patient complained of rectal pain. she was found to be complete and +3. she pushed for a live male infant, apgars 1 and 1 over an intact perineum (yes, because you were so tiny. so so tiny.) ... intructions to follow up in 2 weeks for a check.

that was the infamous follow-up appointment in which the caring dr (who watched me sob and hold you while you took your only breaths) asked if i was breast feeding you. i see here in the paperwork that she wrote baby with a little arrow pointing down. that was after i had to remind her that you died in her presence. what a fucking asshole.

high risk doc write-up includes, "i explained the possibility of ascending bacterial infection and intrauterine inflammation. it is difficult to determine the precise etiology, although the fact that there was chorioamnionitis and funistits suggest that intrauterine infection had occurred and that the fetus had begun to mount an inflammatory response." he went on to say that "i suggest she be screened for bacterial vaginosis with her next pregnancy and be treated if it is found to be present."

with mason, i was and it was and i was.

how hard would it have been for those docs at GARDEN STATE OB/GYN CARE to have ordered a check for BV on 12/17/07? six weeks before you died. you would be here now if they had.

it seems like the perinatologist knew exactly what caused your death. i still consider hiring a lawyer and suing that entire practice and that one doctor in particular. your father says no. he says it will bring too much up. but it's up. believe me, it's up every fucking day of my life. and maybe it would be hard to prove. but maybe we could prove it. and maybe one baby would live because they decided to check moms for bv.

and you know what else hurts? (and here is when i wish i blogged anonymously.) it really hurts when friends stay with that practice. i don't know, maybe i expect too much, but if my friend went through what i went through, i would bail on that place so quickly and tell them exactly why. kind of in a stand and unite kind of way. you know, kind of saying, "girl, i got your back." so when i hear friends say that they stayed there, i still love them, but i kind of want to say "fuck you". (probably just lost another friend or two. not my intention.)

my story is not the only one. garden state is not the only place that is too big to care. i know we are all on our own paths and that we all need to learn our lessons in our time. but i am not making this shit up. neither are the countless others that share their experiences with me. i am not simply a disgruntled and angry patient who had a bad experience. these experiences repeat over and over again across our country.

there are facts.
there is research.
i have read it.
something is not right.

we need to make it right.

so moms, please, research. learn. be informed. choose wisely. take responsibility.

you do not want to live with the guilt and anger that i will live with for the rest of my life.

cooper, i am so sorry. i don't know what else to say. and i can't say it enough.

i don't know how to title this one -- but it's angry as hell with lots of foul language so i apologize for that

not really sure how to gear this one or who to write it to.

been thinking a lot lately about your birth (ok, it's to you cooper) and the way it all played out. i think about how naive and uninformed i was all the time. maybe that's why i obsess so much over everyone else's pregnancy and birthing experiences.

we were at the ICAN meeting the other night. meredith was there (she was our midwife for your brother's birth). she was talking about how home birth is so safe because there are two midwives to one mama. as opposed to a birth in the hospital when there are many mamas and limited docs and nurses running in and out of rooms to take care of so many different women they don't even know personally.

it got me thinking about my pregnancy with you. the practice i was going to was a very nice office with three separate waiting rooms and 16 -- yes count them -- 16 practitioners. it was very impersonal. every time i went there i saw a different doc, as recommended so i will have met as many docs as possible so that the person on call that day when i delivered would not be someone i had never met (as if meeting a doc once for five minutes counts as anything anyway). i would wait in the first waiting room until they sent me back to whichever pod i would sit in until the nurse was ready for me. once i was called back into the exam room, i waited another long while for the OB to come in. she or he often spent less than five minutes with me...how are you feeling? are you feeling any movement yet? your weight looks good...blah blah blah. ok get dressed we will see you again in a month. i never made it so far as to have to go more than monthly.

oh, except for the multiple times i went in because i had some sort of strange smelling discharge. and some blood. no itching. but i was diagnosed three, maybe four, i have to go back and check my records, times with a YEAST INFECTION.

i have had recurring yeast infections my entire life. and while i had never had any blood and i had always had some itching, i took the meds for the yeast infection and went on my way. it passed every time. but then it came back. over and over.

remember, you were born at 22.5 weeks, so this should have been alarming to a doctor, you'd think. it should have caused me to look elsewhere for a care provider who gave a shit. or maybe even two shits. that would have been smart of me. maybe if i had you would be here today. i am actually almost certain that you would be.

but no. i stayed with them. and even though in my gut i knew that the diagnosis yeast infection made no sense, i always let them explain away why it did. and i took the meds. and it went away, and came back.

i remember searching online for "brown discharge during pregnancy" to no avail. i searched and searched. but i guess i was searching all the wrong sites. and god knows i was asking all the wrong people. there was nothing about it in 'what to expect'.

so i trusted the doctors.

(i later discovered that i had likely had bacterial vaginosis. it would have been a simple swab test to check for. and it would have been simple to cure. but no one took the time to think about it. or to check. maybe they are unfamiliar with something so common because their specialties are spread so thin that they are not really specialties at all. i was diagnosed with bv during my pregnancy with mason. i swabbed myself. meredith sent it away to the lab. i went to my wonderful back-up dr at cooper health systems, dr salvatore, and she gave me meds to be sure it would go away and never come back. it was so simple. so so simple. but instead all of those docs told me it was a yeast infection. the bv got worse and worse. it spread to my uterus. i got chorioamnionitis and the amniotic sac ruptured because of it. and you were born way too early and i had to tell them not to be aggressive with your care because i didn't want to put you through that and i wanted to just hold you while you were alive instead of look at you through a plastic box with tubes in your nose until you died in the end anyway.)

oh yes, back to the story.

when i went in the day BEFORE MY WATER BROKE AT 22 WEEKS AND TWO DAYS with the same complaints. brown discharge. a little bloody. no itching. weird smell. again, i was diagnosed by dr. w (i am sure i have said her real name on here before at some point during a rage, but for now i will leave it at that. you can always ask me to be more specific and i will gladly do so, or if you are sick of hearing from me and my angry self, i am sure that any of my friends who have also had horrible experiences with this doctor and with this practice will share) with yet another YEAST INFECTION. i used the suppository -- she said i needed the seven day because the shorter doses were obviously not working and that the blood was likely because the infection was so bad that my uterus was bleeding. wtf? how could it have even gotten so bad when i had been in multiple times over the course of three months with the same fucking complaints? see i am getting angry again.

so i used the suppository. and the next day it was leaking out of me. well, it along with the amniotic fluid that was keeping you safe. but i ignored it because i thought it was the fucking medicine.

and at 1:26 PM the day after seeing the careless dr w, my water broke. you were born and died the next day.

my water broke. but i didn't know that. there was blood when i peed. i called the doc. they said come in. she checked me. vaginally (count one). it was dr s this time. (she at least sent me flowers and a card after you died, unlike what that shitty dr w did.)

she said
this has nothing to do with why you were here last night.
your water broke.
you need to go right to the hospital.
sometimes we can keep you pregnant for a long time.

at the hospital i was checked vaginally again. and again. and again. and maybe again. by multiple doctors.

MY FUCKING WATER HAD BROKEN AND YOU MORONS KNEW THAT WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU PUT YOUR NASTY HANDS IN MY VAGINA?

so the next day i spiked a fever. shocking, right, that i would get a nasty infection in my uterus after the sac that was protecting you had broken and all of those assholes had put their hands in my crotch. they induced me. i had an epidural. you were born. i held you i cried and cried. you stopped breathing right there in my arms. i sobbed for days and days. i am sobbing now. it's three years and five months and one day later.

so you were born and you died. and it is my fault for being so ignorant. for trusting doctors instead of my gut. and i can live with that. your short life has made me better. and i believe you knew what you were getting into. and i love you for it. more than anyone could ever know or understand.

i went back three weeks later to the ob. guess who it was again? yes, good old dr. w. she obviously didn't read my chart, or remember you at all even though only three weeks had passed, or know anything about breastfeeding for that matter because her response when i told her i was still having the same brown discharge with the weird smell was, "are you breastfeeding?"

um, no bitch. my baby died. and you were there. for the entire thing. what the fuck is wrong with you and your entire mcdonald-ized ob/gyn practice? i know for damn sure you weren't thinking i was pumping to donate my milk, because no one mentioned to me that i could have done that.

her reaction was one of shock but more so of embarrassment. and what did i say out loud, "it's ok. you have a lot of patients." i comforted her and made her feel that it was ok that she did not remember the most traumatic experience of my life. she did not remember this special being that she was lucky enough to come into contact with. but i told her that it was ok.

months later i wrote a letter to her telling her how i felt. i carried it around with me as therapy. i had no intention of mailing it.

but one day, i mailed it to her. she called and apologized again on my voicemail. she sounded like a blundering fool. but i felt a little bit good about it. maybe she won't make a mistake like that again. maybe she will read charts form now on.

every time i went back there to try to get some answers, no one ever had any. no one had any interest in helping me get answers. and guess what? every time i went back i had to explain to nurses and doctors and receptionists that my postpartum experience had been sheer hell and that the baby had died. they just kept asking the same questions. how is the baby? how old is the baby? how are you feeling? and i never once lost my mind on any of them. i was kind and polite instead of pouncing on one of them and grabbing my chart and screaming at the top of my lungs, DOESN'T ANYBODY HERE KNOW WHAT THIS IS FOR? DO ANY OF YOU READ THESE FUCKING THINGS?

so now that i have mason, and meredith who never would have missed the real diagnosis, i tell anyone who will listen about our experiences. i hope that i can help someone have a better experience that you and i had together. and i hope that maybe somewhere, something i have said has maybe saved a little baby from dying. i may come off harsh sometimes. or opinionated. and maybe some people don't like me for it. and yes i am angry. and maybe i need to work through it more. but for now, please forgive me for my anger. and know that i love you. and that i am sorry. and that i thank you. and that i understand.

i never knew how much i'd like you

tonight you just wouldn't settle down to sleep. you nursed. you switched sides. nursed again. cried for daddy. he came to lie down next to you. you nursed again. daddy snuck away. you switched sides. i asked if you wanted to "rock rock" and you said yes, reached out your arms to signal that you wanted to be picked up, and then moved your arm back and forth pantomiming me vacuuming. this means you want me to hold you over my shoulder, hum 'all you need is love', and vacuum the bedroom. you fall asleep within seconds. i turn off the vacuum and lay you down on the bed. sometimes you roll to your side and drift right back to sleep while i gently rub your back. but most times you say 'milky' and i nurse you back to sleep. then i eventually sneak away. sometimes it takes longer than other times.

tonight while i was waiting to sneak away, i was thinking back to one particular walk when you were about six weeks old. it was a gorgeous fall day. you had been awak all day. which was normal. you never slept during the day. so this day i stuck you in the moby wrap and stuck it out through your protests and walked the neighborhood until you finally fell asleep. you had done that before but it would usually only last seconds. this time you slept for a long time. i braved it and came in the house. you stayed asleep through the door being opened and closed. i slowly lay down on the living room couch and you stayed asleep, all tucked in. you slept a while. i think i may have even slept. until i felt pee all over me and you were screaming.

back then your cries ran through me like someone was pumping acid through my veins. i reacted with every sense of my being. i couldn't cope with your crying. i had no idea what you were ever trying to tell me.

but these days, you so rarely have to cry to let me know what you need. we have gotten into such a groove. i understand your body movements, the words that maybe no one else can decipher, the looks on your face that can communicate just about anything.

i never imagined back then on that gorgeous fall day that we would get along so well. the moment i saw that little bubble that contained the embryo that contained everything you would become, i fell in love with you. from the moment you were conceived, even before that, i have done everything in my power to protect you and to help you to be the strongest and the healthiest and most loved little human you could be.

but yet, in the beginning, i didn't like you too much. i was terrified of you. i was terrified of not being able to calm you, of not knowing what you needed, what you were telling me. when you did sleep i would literally hold my breath so i wouldn't wake you. i didn't know how to keep you happy. and that was new for me. i had always known how to keep people happy (when i wanted to, that is). but you were different. i had no control over you. again. new. those first few months, i was afraid.

but these days, i love you just as much as i ever did. maybe even more. but even more that that, i like you. a lot. you are super cool and you make me laugh all the time. i love watching you decipher your world and explore every inch of it. you fascinate me just by being you.

and now i can sense that although i understand you differently now, it was that same personality in that little bitty baby body that i was so afraid of. i just hadn't figured you out yet. back then, i had no idea how much i'd like you.

who i am today

dear cooper

yesterday was your due date. you would have been three. three years old. and likely there would have been no mason. and i would have been a whole different person. i would not be who i am today.

i carried you inside of me for just over half of a term pregnancy. i held you in my arms for only ten minutes. but no other person in this world has ever had quite the impact you have had on me.

your birth changed me. forever.

over these three years i have pissed people off. i have lost friends. i have been mean. i have wished for bad things to happen to good people. i have begrudged people of their happiness. i have felt hate. and anger. and jealousy. and sadness. and despair. and hopelessness.

but i have also learned so much about love. and life. and yes it sounds cliche. but it's true. i have made new and wonderful friends. i have strengthened bonds with old friends. i have watched your big cousins grow up and admired their dad as he learns more every day about being their dad. i have had people thank me for talking so openly about you. i have had people thank me for pissing people off because along the way they have learned something they might not otherwise have known and their lives have changed because of it. i have had people tell me that people i don't even know have been affected by me and my ramblings. i have facilitated as sixth grade students raised thousands and thousands of dollars in your name. and then walked five miles in your honor. and in honor of brothers and sisters they have lost that their parents only told them about once they heard about you.

all of those people who have thanked me or encouraged me, they have you to thank, little baby boy, not me.

i am honored that you chose me.

you weighed one pound and six ounces. you lived for about 600 seconds.

you changed me. you changed others. you have changed a little piece of the world in a way that i could never have dreamed.

i remember thinking, before meeting you, that once i had babies i wouldn't let that change me. you would fit into my life and i would go on living as i had always done, but with you by my side. i would go back to work, of course. i would still go out with my friends. i would continue living my life. you would fit into it.

but after you were here and then left so quickly, my whole focus changed. my life changed, so the life you would have had to fit into no longer existed. so once your brother was born, he met a whole different mom from the one you knew.

today i am consumed by motherhood. it is who i am. i do not mourn the loss of that other woman. or of her life. i do not feel the need to hold on to something that no longer is. this is me now. i am your mother. i am mason's mother. it's what i do. and it's what i do best. it's what i love to do. what i live to do.

so thank you again, baby boy. thank you for choosing me as your mother. i only hope that we can meet again in this lifetime. i hope you are still hanging around waiting to be held again in my arms. and know that if you are, if you choose to come back to me, you will meet a whole new mom but feel that same love again. only this time i'll be crying tears of happiness.

growing up

kid, you are growing up so fast. i realized the other day that you've been walking on your own for almost a year now. that is just so hard to believe. it seems like yesterday that you were demanding to walk around everywhere while i held onto your hands. it seems like that went on forever. it seems like yesterday when you stood up and held onto the couch all by yourself at your baby blessing celebration.

you were so ready to do things on your own from the beginning. i often wonder if that's what you were so pissed off about. you came out with this frustration that you just couldn't seem to get a hold of. and then when i couldn't get a hold of it either, it just seemed to escalate.

but as time went on, with every new skill you learned, it seemed that a little of the frustration disappeared.

a couple of weeks ago you grabbed my glass full of water and picked it up. i ran over to grab it from you as i imagined it falling and breaking all over your little toes. but before i got there you put it to your mouth, took a nice long drink, and put the glass back on the table. you did it so carefully. without even a dribble coming out of your mouth. i forget sometimes that you are growing up.

we were out the other day at the store. i forget what it was that we even bought, but as i paid i said my usual thank you to the cashier. when we got in the car and you saw whatever it was, you said "thank you" and did the sign at the same time. you kept doing it every time you saw that thing. we got you a fish. and on your own when we were looking at it together the next morning, you looked at me and said, "thank you" all by yourself. it wasn't the words that got me, it aws the look in your eyes. it was like you were thanking me for more than just the fish. it was the coolest thing i ever saw. well, that morning, anyway.

you have been saying thank you for so months now. i am always so amazed by it because i have never told you to say thank you. you just say it because you are soaking everything up that you see. you learn every day all the time without any effort on either of our parts. i never even taught you the sign for thank you. maren does it with jaren and you have seen her do it. you copy everyone around you.

last week you came up to me and said' "off". and when my face asked you "what off?" you pointed to your diaper and said "off. poop." i nearly pooped my own pants with surprise. for months you have been telling me when you pee -- since i leave your diaper off so often at home you are often telling me you have peed on the floor -- but i just figured that was because your diaper was off and it was easy for you to recognize it. but here you are, getting to be a big boy, telling me that you pooped. it's only been a week or so but i can't believe how much easier it is for both of us. i don't have to annoy you by asking you and checking your butt. you just tell me. i can only imagine how good that makes you feel to understand what is happening in our body and to be able to tell me about it. and also i guess to know that it's normal.

these days when you are tired you tell me, "up" and point towards our bed. if you want to nurse you say "milky" and show me where i should sit. you can tell me if you want a snack and point to the exact thing you want. if you fall and get hurt you can show me where it hurts and what did it to you. you make up your own signs for words you can't say. you have always been a communicator, from the moment you were pulled form my belly, but it makes it so much easier and so much more fun now that you can communicate with your words and with clear body language.

it must be so hard to be a baby. even with a mom who responds within seconds to your cries or requests, there have obviously been so many times when i couldn't understand what it was you needed, or now as you are getting older, what you wanted. when you were a tiny baby and you couldn't speak, or walk, or even sit up by yourself, you must have felt so much frustration with your world and even with the people who love you.

it was really hard for you to be a baby. and it was really hard for me when you were a baby. but now you are growing up becoming a big boy. we have figured each other out. and together we're trying to figure out the world. and it won't be long before you are eight. and then nine like your cousins. it happens so fast. it seems like just yesterday that they were running around learning about being "civilized" just like you are now. and now they are big and are sometimes just too cool to hang with your goofy mom. and that will be you someday. someday too soon.

so for now, i am going to spend every minute i can watching with wonder as you are growing up right in front of me.

attachment to the way other people do it

i have had a really difficult time with motherhood. not with the actual mothering part, but with accepting that all people are different and have different stories, and that no matter what, if a baby is loved, in the end he will be ok. i have had a hard time letting go of my need for others to parent their babies the way i parent you. because hey, i parent you the way i do because i believe that it's the right way to parent. many people say there is no right way, but i think there is. and i think that if everyone was honest, they think their way is right, too. otherwise, why would they parent that way? and maybe some good-hearted open and accepting people will say that there is a right way for each family. or for each child. or for each mother. yes, that's true, but there are just some big things that i believe are right.

1. i believe that we should all try to breastfeed our babies. that we should all become educated and take responsibility for learning how to do it. we live in a culture and time when breastfeeding is not the norm. many of us have never seen it done. but we need to prepare. to learn. to seek support. because it is best for our babies. and it's good for us. and for the earth. we need to give it our best shot. yes, there are people who have been abused and cannot even imagine putting a baby to their breast. there are people who have traumatic birth experiences and this affects their breastfeeding relationship. there are a whole slew of booby traps that can get in the way. but i believe it is our responsibility to try our best to figure it out. we all do the best we can with the knowledge that we have, i know this. and babies who are not breastfed will be just fine. they will be ok. they will thrive ( at least in this country). as long as a baby loved and fed with love, that baby will grow up and know how to show love. but i still believe that we should try our best. how can anyone feel guilt or make anyone feel guilt for giving it their best? i cannot understand a mother who simply refuses to try. and i guess it's not my job to understand. it's not my job to even accept it. it's her journey and she has her reasons. what business is it of mine?

2. i believe that hospital circumcision is wrong. this is just my belief. and i will do my best to urge people to choose to leave their sons intact. i believe it hurts and that it's a shitty way to introduce baby to the world. the mainstream world does not put the information out there about the risks of circumcision. they don't tell us that it is not necessary. they don't show the videos of the babies having it done to them. i encourage friends to at least wait a week or maybe even six months until bonding and breastfeeding are established until they have it done if they choose to have it done for whatever reason. at least then baby has learned to trust his mom. but when it's done in the hospital it is painful and done within a day of being on the planet. that sucks. i don't believe that anyone should feel guilty for their decision to do it. however, if you do it to your son after knowing 100% how the procedure is done and that it is not necessary, i just can't understand it. it makes my heart and my belly hurt. and again, i guess it's not my job to understand it. it's none of my business i guess, what someone else does to their sons genitals. and i can still love you if you do it. but in the end, i do think this is something that in the future people will look back and be very shocked to know that we as a culture did this to our babies for so long. and i know way too many moms who did have it done, and feel sad about it afterwards, so i will never shut up about why it isn't necessary.

3. i believe it's wrong to have a baby and to leave it in a container all day long. i don't think strollers or swings or cribs or or infant car seats used outside of the car are the devil. these things all serve a purpose and can be super helpful if your baby likes them. i just think it's wrong to stick your baby in a container and to ignore it all the time, no matter what. of course some women suffer from post-partum depression or are single moms or are sick and have no help from family and need to use these things. but i think it's wrong to leave a poor baby strapped into some container and to essentially ignore it for hours on end. babies are born with a need to be held and to bond with the people who love them. so when you can, i think you should hold your baby. not carry it or push it around in some apparatus all the time.

4. i think it is wrong and harmful to let your baby cry alone in order to teach him how to sleep. i can't imagine if i were crying and the person i loved just closed the door, left the room and said, "figure it out". there may come a time when the baby is older that you decide to let your baby cry for a few minutes until he falls asleep. ok, you know your baby and if he is ready. you may get to the point where youjust cannot function anymore, but i really believe there are other options. they just take longer than the three days or so that you would have to endure your baby's screams. 'the no cry sleep solution' is full of ideas. or you can just keep the baby in bed. or you can let dad hold the baby until he falls asleep and let dad put him down. there are so many different things you can try. and if you do let your baby cio in the end because you truly believe in your heart that it's best for your baby and it's what he or she needs, i can even understand that. your baby will still love you in the morning. but i just wish that sleep were not such a hot topic in our culture and that i would not have to hear about the poor little things crying alone.

5. i think it is wrong to hurt your child in any way. i cannot accept someone hitting their child. telling them to shut up. calling them names. i can accept that it happens and that people do it because they are doing their best at this time. but i cannot accept it in my life. so if someone treats their child in this way, i cannot be their friend. especially if they do it in front of my kid. it's not that i am trying to shelter him from the world, but i don't want you to know that i would choose people who do that kind of thing to their kid to be a part of our lives.

most of this post is therapy for me. i have to realize that all of these babies, as long as they are shown love, will be ok. and that i am not right. i am right for me and for you at this time. there is no right. there just is what we do. and what we learn. and how we change. but in the end, can i accept it? i have had a really hard time holding on to friendships in which someone makes choices different from mine. i guess i feel like i am in a constant state of defending my non-conventional choices and that instead of kindly explaining to them my reasons like i do, i really just want to tell them all of the things i just wrote about. maybe after this post i will have even less friends. but it's something i am learning to be ok with.

there are a lot of things i do that are not mainstream. i don't vaccinate. i use cloth diapers. i spend more money on feeding you and us whole and real foods than i can probably afford. i have used a stroller maybe five times with you. i never owned an infant car seat for you. you are intact. you sleep with us in our bed. i plan to nurse you until you are no longer interested in nursing (or until i can distract you enough that you are no longer interested). i take you to a chiropractor and a naturopath when you are sick instead of to the pediatrician. i let your fevers run their course. you don't drink cows milk. i will never take you to the animal circus. i plan to home educate you. but i don't always take the alternative route. i turned your car seat around at 14 months even though i knew i wanted to leave you rear facing for as long as possible. i give you ice cream. i have tons of toys for you to play with -- the plastic light up kind and everything. ok, so i guess i am pretty unconventional since that's all i can thnk of, but i don't think everyone should do all of these things. i don't think people who do them are bad. well, most of the time. but those things i wrote about above i have a really hard time with. if someone does one of those things, unless it's the last one, of course i can be their friend, if they still want me to be. if you do a couple or a few of them, i can still be your friend. if you do all of them, other than abuse your child, i can be your friend. but i still don't understand it. and i can't just let it go. i always think about it. i am not sure why. maybe it's because i think you think i am wrong if you don't do it the way i do -- a throw-back to the way i was always made to feel wrong when i was a kid. maybe it's my controlling personality. maybe it's because i tend to personify babies way too much and i feel like i can see from their eyes. maybe because if a person is making decisions that i would never accept in myself, i just can't understand it. i am trying really hard to understand why this lesson is so hard for me to learn. why am i so attached to the way other people are mothering their babies and children? i know that everyone has a story. everyone has a path. everyone has their lessons. i also believe that all little souls choose their parents, so they know what they are getting into. i am the same way about women and the way they choose to birth their babies. i just want everyone to have their best birth. deep down i can feel it. but i know thta what's best for me is not best for everyone. i don't think everyone whould have their babies at home. but i am so attached to women having their babies vaginally, naturally, without being induced, even though i delivered cooper with an epidural and you via cesarean. what is it? what is going on in my head that keeps me so attached to these things. i need a nice long talk with flossie, my teacher. i need to get back into my yoga practice. i need to sit. to meditate. i need to figure this out. i am losing friends and making people hate me. and i hate to be hated. and i guess i am reaaly lucky to have all this time on my hands to focus on things that don't affect my own life. i am lucky everyone i love and care for is healthy. that i can afford to live in a nice house in a nice place and stay home and have food on the table. someday, i will be too busy to notice or to care what others are doing. i guess i just hope that in the end the world is a better place for you and your kids. and i guess i believe the world will only get better if the babies and kids are shown better. i don't know. i am sure some people will read this and think i am self-righteous. that i have issues. that i am an asshole. i'm not even sure if i should publish this post. but i guess in the end, voicing our thoughts ans differences can be painful, but it can also lead to understanding. so here's hoping to a positive reaction...at least in the long run.

sleeping through the night

this is one of the many questions that makes my blood boil. how does he sleep? is he sleeping for you? does he sleep through the night? oh, he's in bed with you. that must be so hard.

no. it isn't hard. it's parenting. is parenting easy? is is supposed to be? i chose to keep you in bed with me from your first night on earth. it was my plan from before you were born. i read enough to know it was safe. i used my common sense and i did what was right for me. and for you. you stayed in my bed at the hospital -- directly across from the sign telling me not to let you sleep in bed with me. you have slept in our bed every night of your life since we came home from the hospital. and we want you there. we did this on purpose. we chose to keep you there with us. it's not hard. it's how we like it. all of us.

and you don't sleep through the night. not nearly. but does anyone? i haven't slept through the night in...i don't know...my entire life. i wake, i roll over. i get up to pee. i pull the covers back from your dad. you do the same sort of things. but you don't know how to get back to sleep yet all the time by yourself. you do it now more often than you ised to. and you sleep longer stretches sometimes. but you don't sleep longer than four hours at a time. and that's rare. but when you wake, i roll over, you latch on and we both go back to sleep. it's really not a big deal most nights. yes, some nights it sucks. but some nights your teeth hurt. some nights i just can't get comfortable. some nights your dad snores. so i'm not gonna blame just you.

my point here is i am still hearing this question. people ask me. they ask my friends who are new moms. new moms ask each other. i wish that we could all just accept that babies do not sleep through the night unless they are left to cry and to believe that no one is coming. and if i have a ninteen month old who is still waking and it's not a problem for me, then it's not a problem. it's not a big freaking deal. yes, it would be a big deal if you were down the hall in a crib and i had to get my tired ass out of bed to nurse you. then it would suck all the time. but it doesn't suck. most of the time. really. you are right there. i roll over. we go back to sleep.

so friends. please don't feel bad for me. don't wonder how i do it. i do it just because it's what i do. and it's what my kid needs.

and please know, i am not saying that everyone should keep their kid in bed with them. i'm just saying who cares if my kid or anyone else's is sleeping through the night? let's all just get over it. let's all just stop caring and stop asking and stop announcing if babies are sleeping through the night!

how long are you gonna nurse him?

so the time has finally come. people everywhere want to know when i am going to stop nursing you. so far no strangers have commented to my face. i actually look forward to that day so i can let loose on someone i don't care about. but the question keeps coming. it's coming from curious friends. from family members who just don't seem to get it. still after 19 months. they don't get it.

nursing is so much more than just food. you nurse when you are hungry. yes. and thirsty. yes. but you also nurse when you just need a break. a break from people who love you very much but probably quite often overwhelm you. a break from playing. or just to come touch base with me to say 'hey mom. i'm busy sometimes. but you and i are still tight. no worries.' you nurse when you are tired. or hurt. and yes, maybe sometimes you even nurse when you are bored. hell. i eat all the time when i am bored. but i eat cookies. or chips. at least mommy milk is nutritious.

and yes. it is still nutritious. it is full of all kinds of vitamins and nutrients. stuff you aren't getting from your solids. the few solids you are interested in eating. so i never have to worry about you getting enough protein or carbs or anything. it's all in the milk. my milk changes with you and with your needs. it's pretty damn amazing that way.

so i will just make the answer short and simple for everyone. i will keep nursing my son until he and i are ready to stop. holy shit! does that mean i might be nursing a two year old? yes. for sure. i can promise everyone right now that you will not be done nursing by the time you are two. or a four year old? maybe. likely by then you would want to nurse only a few times a day. maybe just to get to sleep. but maybe not. maybe you will want to -- gasp -- nurse in public. and guess what -- if you want to or need to nurse in public that badly that i cannot convince you to wait, i am sure i will nurse you in public even as a four year old.

and let's clear this one up for those of you who have not read this response anywhere else. "once they are old enough to ask for it..." really? so when your baby is asking for his bottle by saying "baba" you are going to refuse because he is asking for it? or if your kid asks for broccoli your response will be "no honey, you are too old for broccoli because you are old enough to ask for it." this one just aggravates me to no end. only in america do we have to defend our choice to use our boobs for what they are there for.

i was thinking about this tonight while nursing you probably about five times at your cousin's baseball game. i can't remember ever seeing anyone nurse in public. maybe it's because people are so discreet when they do it. maybe it's because i wasn't looking for it. maybe people just don't do it. but regardless, i have nursed you everywhere as you have grown. the most awkward places have been at wrestling tournaments and on a boat with you in your big life vest. i am sure your dad could remember more, but i don't really care too much. i just nurse you because you want to nurse and because it's good for you. and for me. it's good for us.

but i wonder how many people at that game were offended by what we were doing. i never seem to get looks. i have never been approached or made to feel that i shouldn't be nursing you. maybe people are just good at hiding their disgust. or maybe the majority of people really don't care.

either way. ii'm gonna keep nursing you until we are done. because it's good for us. and it's normal. period.

baby number three for me

no. not yet.

when our little friend was born at home two hours after we left the zoo that day, i got kind of jealous. i always get jealous when i find out someone is pregnant or when i hear about a birth story. i don't want to feel that way, but i can't help it. it just takes over. sometimes i can't even be happy for people. i still am so effected by your brother's birth and by missing my chance to deliver you at home. i get angry with friends who trust their doctors so much that they make decisions that mess up their birth experiences for them. and then i get jealous when friends are lucky enough to have things go their way. i love these people and i love their babies, and it totally sucks that i still get these feelings. i hate it. i wish i could just be happy for people and that i could just let go of their experiences. after all, i know that each woman needs to birth her baby the way that she feels most comfortable and that each of us is on our own path. i know that some women are just not ready to take charge of their pregnancies or their deliveries. but i just want everyone to have the best birting experience they can. i know what it's like to be robbed of it. i know what effect doctors can have on a pregnancy and on a delivery. and when things go right i just can't help but be pissed off that things never seem to go right for me when it comes to delivering babies. but anyway this really wasn't the point of my post today. i have digressed.

the point was that after baby c was born at home in his tub, i was insanely jealous and made an appointment that day with the fertility doc to discuss our options as far as trying again with one or more of those embryo siblings of yours that we've got on ice. they said i can't try til i wean you. now we all know that i am not going to wean you. and we all know that i am also no rule follower, so of course i came home and looked into it. there have been plenty of moms who have gone through ivf while still breastfeeding. i could do it. especially since i want to try for an unmedicated transfer. but either way, the meds would be safe for you, so it wouldn't be a problem if we did use them.

but it got me thinking. really thinking.

i am not ready to have anohter baby. we want you to have a sibling. one that you can play with and talk to and teach things to. you love kids. you love being around your cousins. you are always so happy when you are playing with your friends (even when you are hitting them in the head and stuff). i want to have more babies. just not yet. i am very excited to be pregnant again. i love being pregnant. i love everything about it. i am so looking forward to my homebirth. my home vbac. but i am just not ready to actually care for another baby just yet. and although i am not young, i am still not so old that i really have to worry about the clock ticking. i really enjoy you. i love spending time with you and being able to stop everything just to go outside and play with you in the sandbox. i love to be able to jump on the bike and go for a ride with you whenever you touch your head and say "helmet". you and i are really into a groove and i don't want to mess with it just yet.

on top of that, i am terrified. you were not easy, as i've mentioned before. and i am absolutly terrified of having another baby who might be even nearly as demanding as you were. i cringe when i think back to the days of holding you and bouncing you all day long until my arms were numb. i can't imagine going through that again while you are still so needy and still demanding milkies about five times an hour sometimes and still often waking up every hour or two through the night to nurse.

so we will wait. and hey, maybe we will get pregnant on our own this time and we will just have to deal with what happens. because of course we will be able to deal with it and of course i can handle it. and likely it will be easier next time. after all, i have experience now and friends who will help. friends who understand what it's like to be a nursing mom and who won't tell me that "breastfeeding is for the birds" or that even though she knows i might get upset when she says this but that she thinks that my baby is crying all the time because he is hungry. my mommy friends get it and that just would have made it a whole lot easier last time. everyone always told me that i should give you a bottle so i could get a break. but i didn't need a break from you (i am pretty sur ei have have said this before) i needed help with all of the other shit that had to get done so i could just sit and nurse you. but no one understood. so this time, people will understand.

but still, i don't want to rush it. as jealous as i am that my amazing friends keep on having these amazing pregnancies and deliveries, i can wait for my next one. for now, you and i can just keep on being us. and one day, you will have your own baby to hold and kiss. and you will be able to watch him or her be born here at home. and i will keep learning lessons from cooper and from you and from another little soul.

your new friends

over the past two months, you have had a whole bunch of new friends enter the world. each one of those babies has their own special story. one of those little boys decided to be born at home in his bathtub even though his mom planned to have him at the hospital. turns out he knew what was best for his mom. she had two babies already. one was born via c-section and the other was a hospital vbac. his mom is a childbirth educator in training and wanted deep down to have a planned homebirth. but she was just not ready to take that leap. so the baby helped her out and came too fast for her to go anywhere but into the bathroom. it was beautiful and safe and wonderful. one sweet baby girl was born at the hospital birthing suite. she took a reallllllly really long time to get here. her mom was so strong and powerful throughout the entire labor. i was with her for the final eight hours of her labor and even thoughshe was exhausted and this was her first birth, she did not even once consider asking for medication to help the pain. and even in the face of a "midwife" who was threatening meds, mom continued to listen to her own body and pushed her out while in an uprgith position, one the nurse and the "midwife" had tried to discourage her from trying. it was truly amazing. and another one of your friends decided to be born at home in his bathtub after we were at the zoo with his mom and his big brother. his mom planned to have him at home, but she didn't really plan to have him come so fast. he was born only a half hour after the midwife got there. and then this morning we had another baby girl enter the world at home. unplanned. she also knew what was best for her brave mommy. her mom had a baby born five weeks too early the day before you were born. she planned to deliver this baby at the birth center, but ended up having her baby at home, which is just what she needed. it's really amazing what the female body can do on it's own when nothing gets in the way. with no interventions at all. i can't wait for my homebirth.

doctors

recently i was reminded that although i have suffered at the hands of the medical community, i should not expect everyone else to have a mistrust for doctors. that comment really pissed me off and i can't seem to let it go.

i do not have a blatant and general mistrust of doctors. doctors are full of knowledge about their specific field. if you are sick, i mean really sick with something that we cannot handle on our own, i would obviously take you to the doctor and use any medications that were needed to make you better. i have given you tylenol and advil when i knew you were in pain. i gave you a couple of days worth of an antibiotic when you were a couple months old. i was told by a doctor that you had the "beginnings of an ear infection". you already cried so much and were so miserable much of the time, i believed that neither of us would survive an ear infection. so i gave it to you. then a lovely friend suggested i read "no more amoxicillin". she gave me the gist of the book, and though i didn't read it until recently, i learned enough from her and from searches online and in my natural health books and through consulting with our naturopath, to know that you likely did not have an ear infection, that if you did it would heal itself, and that if it were an infection, it had a very small chance of becoming dangerous. very small chance. i learned that the use of antibiotics for an ear infection would only allow your body to heal temporarily and that it was best to let your body work. so i have never given you another antibiotic and i will not unless the research i do and the consultation with our naturopath deems it necessary. i was recently told (again) that you had very red ears. i gave you pain meds so you would not suffer, and did not fill the script. you got better. i am not bashing anyone who gives their kid meds or even anyone who trusts their doctor, nor do i think i am better or right because of the way i take care of you. but i do believe that we all have a responsibility to ourselves, to our children, and to our world to be knowledgable. i was told by a pediatrician when you were weeks old that i should nurse you only for ten minutes per side no often than every two hours. luckily i did not listen to her. luckily i had a midwife to whom i was turning for my nursing advice. had i listened, and many moms do in our culture because they have no other resources, i would not have succeeded in breastfeeding you. and yes, your brother died at the hands of the medical community. i am at fault for not being more well-informed. i trusted my OB. and i have heard over and over again from many many mothers that they, too, suffered in one way or another because they trusted their doctors. endless breastfeeding support meetings, endless grief support meetings, tons of reading and talking to people who are trained in the field of natural health have led me to believe that doctors are good for some things, but for the vast majority of things concering our health and wellness, it is best to stay away from them. they have their place, but i could go on and on about why OBs and even certified nurse midwives often do way more harm than good to a pregnant or laboring or nursing moms. we should not turn to pediatricians for advice on breastfeeding (unless he or she is an IBCLC), discipline, or sleep. they are not trained in these fields. they are trained in the field of medicine. an OB is a trained surgeon. many have never seen a baby birthed naturally. many have not even breastfed their own babies.

and yes, i know this is not my best writing, but you are napping and could wake at any moment. we are going up to see our fabulous friend and her new baby, who was born at home last wednesday. and has yet to see a pediatrician, a doctor of any kind, a nurse, or whatever. i am so looking forward to bringing a brother or sister for you into the world that way. some day. with no interventions. with no inaccurate advice to piss me off.

and yes, doctors do piss me off. the female body is meant to birth babies -- big ones, small ones, whatever. and breasts were made to nurse babies -- big babies, little babies, early babies, grown up babies and even babies who have baby siblings growing in their moms bellies. babies are not supposed to sleep through the night until they are ready. they should sleep near their loved ones. they are not supposed to eat solid foods at four months. they do not need rice cereal. our bodies were made to heal. our bodies are amazing. trust them.

bath tub time

i remember the first bath we gave you. it was a sponge bath. aunt cole was there taking pictures and calming me and daddy about the temperature of the water. i don't remember if you screamed but we do have pictures so i guess i should take a look back at them so i can remember. it's amazing how much i am already forgetting about when you were a "baby". you seem so grown up already from who you used to be.

so the progression of your bath tub time...ah it has been quite an experience. last winter, when daddy was at wrestling all the time, i used to be terrified about bath time. i would have to get in the tub with you and then get you out in the cold. we would wrap up in our towels and you would be screaming pretty much the whole time. i would try to manage getting the diaper stuffed and getting you dry and getting me dry and getting us both dressed while nursing you. it must have been quite a sight.

when daddy was home, he would get in the bath with you and i would do the rest afterwards. you always started to scream even though we did the same exact routine every night since you were about a month old when we learned that you were not going to accept being bathed alone in the baby tub. (funny, the baby tub was one of those things i knew i would not need but was told by everyone else in the world that i was crazy -- luckily it was given to us as a hand-me-down. i gave it away over a year ago.)

it wasn't until a few months ago, when you were well over one year old, that you stopped crying after the bath was over. it's not even like you enjoyed the bath. you just didn't like all the manipulation that went with the drying and dressing afterwards, i guess. you have never liked being "managed". so anyway a few months ago bath tub time began to get easier. i didn't dread it anymore and i actually had learned to enjoy that time with you. oh yes. i forgot to mention that sometime near your birthday you decided that you needed me in there with you and not daddy most of the time. and you wanted to nurse through the entire bath. which was fine because it really was a peaceful end to our day together.

so about two months ago you were in the tub with me. you were playing. i got out. and you stayed in there. alone. and you had fun. and the next couple of months were fun bath tub times for you. you played. you got in on your own and stayed in. you did the heiny splash. there were times when i had to get you out because oyu were in so long that you were wrinkling and the water was cold.

and then last week i decided to stop babying you with the hair washing. at first you never minded getting water dumped over your head. but progressively you started to dislike it more and more. so i have no idea what i was thinking when i decided that you might be ok if i just poured the whole container of water over your head to get the shampoo out in one shot. instead of being gentle and careful like i have always been. i let people get to me. i let people get in my head. i wanted you to get used to the water so you would go in the lake and the pool and like to go under water and not freak when you got your face wet. but i went against what i know. i know you. i know you don't work that way. and i know that my wants have nothing to do with your needs and i should have just let you go and if you ended up being ten and not liking getting your face wet at the beach so the fuck what?

so the last week bath tub time has been a complete nightmare for both of us. you are terrified when i mention it. when i take you near the tub at night time and put you down you cling to me in sheer terror. your poor little frightened face breaks my heart. you won't get in with me. i tried to get in with you and you clung to me in fear. no bath has lasted more than 90 seconds in the past week.

so from now until you are ready, just like we did tonight since your mommy finally figured it out, you will get wiped down while you sit on the sink and hold tight on to me and tell me in your developing language in the best way you can "mommy don't let go of me and please don't put me in that bath tub". i won't. not until you are ready. and if that means your hair smells of enchilada sauce for a week or two, then i can live with that.

i am sorry i scared you. i will try hard not to do it again. i will continue to work on following my instincts and on trusting my gut. and on not concerning myself with silly things like you being afraid to get your face wet. sometimes -- most time -- it's just not worth it to me to make you sad or scared or upset in any way in exchange for my own personal convenience. i will try not to ever force you into accepting anything before you are ready. i know you. and i trust you. and you trust me. you know i hear you. and that means everything to me.

i considered weaning tonight

while many of my friends were nursing their babies at the la leche league meeting tonight, i was getting you to sleep and considering if my life would be easier if i were to wean you. since you were a few months old, i have always thought i would let you lead the way with weaning. but the past few weeks have been so hard.

you have been snotty and weepy and whiny and clingy and you have not slept well at all. during the day, you rarely let me put you down and even when i hold you you are whining. you ask for milkies and as you nurse you pull away and start crying and screaming MILKIES!!! you are having milkies! why are you crying? then you go back for more.

i have not been able to do anything without you erupting into tears on most days. i am exhausted. your dad wants to help but when i am around all you want is mommy and milkies.

so maybe it would be nice to have my boobs back to myself. maybe it would be nice to sleep on my belly without the every 90 minute to 3 hour interruptions for milkies. and the last couple of nights it's been every 20-40 minutes. those are the nights i want to freak. i have no patience with you on those nights and then i feel like shit in the morning for being such an ass and for having so little compassion. your dad tries to help and to keep me calm but all it seems to do is make me more angry.

but without your milkies, i know that you won't sleep better. you won't be less whiny or clingy without your milkies. you will still be every bit of you. but without the milkies i won't have a magical way to soothe you. i won't get a break. ever. not that i do now, but at least i can sit down when you want to nurse.

you are a super-charged kid. i have used many words to describe you over the past year and almost half. fussy. intense. sensitive. high-need. active. curious. demanding. but let's face it -- you are difficult. it has such a negative connotation, but you are. some of my friends have easy babies. so if they are easy and you are the opposite of them, you must be difficult.

it doesn't mean i love you any less. or that it's harder to love you. i appreciate your difficult-ness. but lately people have asked me if i believe that you would be different had i done things differently. in other words, is it my fault that you are difficult. the answer is a resounduing NO. you are you. and i am the mom i am because of you.

you hated the car. i entertained you. now you always have to be entertained in the car. but you always had to be. that came first. i couldn't put you down to sleep. you wouldn't have it. so i held you and rocked you. and now you have to be nursed to sleep and back to sleep over and over throughout the night. but that's because you always needed it that way. i couldn't put you down. ever. not that i ever really wanted to. no one else could soothe you. or calm you. just me and your dad. but mostly just me. i met every need often before you had to ask for it. because the price that you and i and your dad would pay if i didn't was too much to handle.

your cries are not cries. they are screams as if a limb is being ripped off of your body. your mouth opens so wide and your eyes look as if you are absolutly terrified. you begin to cough. you nearly vomit. your little body gets so tense that it hurts me. you were always like this. always.

i love you, baby boy. and though i can't promise i won't think about it on days like this, i promise not to wean you.

to work or not to work

it's march. there are five months left in the school year. i was just sitting here thinking that if it were next year and i were back to work how miserable i would be. i feel so lucky that i have been able to be home with you for 17 months and two days. and i have only been away from you a few times in those 17 months for a couple of hours at a time. i could probably count those times on two hands.

i did not plan to be this kind of mother. i bought the $200 breast pump because i figured i would have to pump milk so i could be away from you. i figured i would have to be away from you for my sanity. and i am sure it probably could have helped if i had gone that way. your dad would maybe be happier. he and i have gone to dinner once alone since you were born. we were gone an hour. maybe. but i don't feel bad about it. except that i think sometimes he feel sbad about it. i hate leaving you. i feel weird, almost wrong, when we are not together. i am not that mom who needs my time or space. sometimes i wish i were that mom. it would be nice to go get my toes done or my brows waxed and to stop on the way home for a coffee at starbucks and read for a while. but that day will come sometime. for now, i feel best when we are together.

so that brings me to my major life decision. do i go back to work? do i go back to work half of the year, almost literally, or do i give up the salary and the stability and all that it could bring us as a family? i mean, i teach 6th grade. i like my job. i love the kids most days and i have lots of fun with them. lots. and most of them have loved me through the years. parents usually love me. i love everyone i work with. my principal is probably the best in jersey to work for and we live .8 miles from work. you would be with grandmom and grandpop while i was at work. they live .4 miles from us. i would be home by 3:16 every day. i would be home for all of the days off and all summer.

it would really be the best possible situation in the world. i am not sure who would have it easier as a working mom.

but.

i hate to leave you. hate it. i enjoy spending time with you. i enjoy being able to watch every minute of you as you grow and learn and explore. i love that we don't ever have to be anywhere unless we want to be. i love that we can spend time just living and being. we don't have to rush. and we learn so much from each other. i can enjoy you at your own pace.

your dad loves that i am home with you, too. he knows how much it means to both of us.

and we don't want much. we live in a tiny house and we don't have lots of stuff. we don't want lots of stuff. we can do it. live on one salary i mean. and it won't be too difficult. it will be tight and i will probably worry about money more than i can handle sometimes. we won't be able to get new fancy cars or go on regular vacations. we will have to watch every penny we spend for a long time. i will probably be very jealous of most of my friends when i see the new things they can buy and the things they can afford to do. but we can do it. i can make some money. there's lots i can do and lots i have brewing.

i hate to leave carusi. it's really the best place in the world to teach. if i ever have to go back, i don't know how i would be able to go anywhere else and teach. i would be like my friend maddy who always compared life in jersey to life in ohio, as if it was some kind of neverland or something. it would totally suck to have to teach anywhere else. so i would have to be sure that didn't happen. i would just never be able to go back. or i could only go back if there was an opening at carusi.

but regardless, i have never been one to make decisions based on fear.

(well, except for when i decided to allow them to section me instead of going home to labor with you, but that's a whole other blog entry.)

i have also been devouring books about education reform. about homeschooling. and i don't think that my conscience will allow me to ever go back into a public school classroom. i just feel so many things are wrong for so many kids, i don't think i could do it.

so here i am. at a precipice. do i resign from a job and that i love (and go to with your dad) that has a fairly nice paycheck with complete stability and a pension and leave you with your loving grandparents for about 186 days of the year OR do i stay home with you and worry sometimes about money and not be able to save anything and leave the house every day miserable because i miss you.

the truth is i already know the answer to this question. i have known for a while. i just have to be brave enough to admit it. and i think just writing this will help.

on parenting choices, by our friend, tovah

Tovah has been one of your favorites since you met her, mason. mine, too. she is open, honest, brilliant, loving and compassionate. her words here ring very true for me. you and judah entered the world via cesarean and had very different experiences. yet, both of your moms have come out of our birthing experiences to bring change to the world, even if it's just for one mom or one baby. here is her story.


In the past few months, I have garnered a lot of attention and criticism from some of my posts and Facebook status'. Not including Santa, they are mostly about breastfeeding, co-sleeping, gentle parenting methods, and babywearing.



Let me give you a quick background about myself and my relationship with my son, Judah. Judah was born 6 weeks early. I was 34 weeks and 2 days, and admitted to the hospital for preeclampsia. After 24 hours of deliberation, the decision was made to deliver Judah via "emergency" c-section at 3:30PM on Christmas Eve.



Judah was born a healthy but small 4lbs 14oz, I kissed him on the nose, and he was quickly carted off to the NICU. I was pumped full of magnesium sulfate, and wheeled into a room far away from Judah, where I was completely drugged for the next 25 hours. They put a breastpump in the room with no instructions. When the magnesium was finished, my spinal block worn off, and my catheter pulled, I was finally allowed to see my baby. It was 6PM on Christmas Day.



Rafi wheeled me down the hallway and into the double secure doors to the NICU. I asked to hold my baby, and I was told that he'd been given 5cc of formula, and that he'd thrown up. Would I be gentle? I couldn't believe a nurse asked me if I was going to be gentle with my own baby. My own little being that I'd grown and had extracted from my belly 25 hours previous. Was I going to be gentle? Are you kidding me?



I finally held Judah. I asked if I could nurse him. I was not allowed to.



I was allowed to put him to the breast on Saturday, 48 hours after he'd been born. He didn't know what to do, and neither did I. I had NICU nurses who knew very little about breastfeeding, attempting to squish and shove my nipple into his mouth. I went back to my room, disappointed and tired. And in pain. I skipped the next feed, as instructed. I was only to put him to the breast every 6 hours, and in between, he'd have formula through the tube in his nose. Otherwise, he'd burn the calories he consumed by just trying to nurse.



That afternoon, a lactation consultant came to help me nurse Judah. She became my best friend. I had her come down every time I went to feed Judah. Sometimes we got him to consume 8ccs, sometimes nothing. It was always followed by either formula or breastmilk (fortified by formula) through the nose tube. I'd started pumping every 3 hours. It was a bitch.



Saturday night, I was so tired. I didn't want to see Judah. I had no connection to him. They could bottle feed him, why did I need to nurse him? My mom said to me, "Get out of that bed and go feed your baby. Now." And I did.



I was discharged 5 days after Judah was born. He stayed.



To come home, he'd have to consume, by mouth: 8 feeds in a row, in a 24 hour period, through the mouth. Between 50 and 70ccs each time. (Full term babies do not do this, mind you)



For the next 4 weeks, my life consisted of pumping every 3 hours around the clock (I slept on the couch so I could achieve this), labeling little containers of my milk, driving to the hospital at 9am and staying until 3, being only allowed to hold Judah when he was hungry and eating, driving home, eating, napping, and driving back to the hospital in the evening with Rafi. Don't forget, I was still pumping like a madman...at home and at the hospital. The next day, I'd wake up and do it again. And again. And again. I encountered the sweetest nurses, nurses I wanted to kill, and nurses who had no business working with humans.



While in the hospital, Judah consumed (in no order of important): formula through the nose tube, breastmilk fortified with formula through the nose tube, breastmilk through the nose tube. Formula in a bottle. Breastmilk with fortifier from a bottle. Breastmilk from a bottle. And milk from the breast.



Judah was finally discharged on January 19. We drove away from the hospital, and I was relieved. My life was finally going to be normal. No more hospitals. No more weighing before and after feeds. No more nurses watching me mother. No more doctors declaring he could not come home. He was home. He was mine. And that was it.



That first night, I put Judah next to my bed in the bassinet, and Rafi and I crawled into our beds and went to sleep. I woke up every 3 hours or so, schelpped the baby and the Boppy out to the living room, and nursed. After each nursing, I fed Judah a bottle of breastmilk, as per the hospitals instructions.



36 hours later, I had his first pediatricians appointment. He'd gained 10 oz in 36 hours. The doctor said I could curb the bottles, and that formula would not be nescesccary from a medical standpoint, only if I wanted to for convienience. (a few months later, I took all my formula to the Doctor's office and donated my special preemie formula to babies who truly needed it).



The weeks continued. I'd crawl into bed, anxious as to when Judah would wake up and want to eat. I hated waking up, Not because I didn't want to feed him, but because the physical act of waking up was very painful and jarring.



One night, I fed him in my bed, sitting up. We fell asleep. When I woke up, he was there and I was scared to death I did something wrong. But he was fine. And I was fine.



So we did it again. Except this time, I slunk down a little bit so I could sleep better. And I positioned him safely. And I was hyper aware that he was there. It was the craziest thing.



Eventually, we just started going to bed together, Judah nursing at my side. I slept. He slept. Rafi slept. Everyone was happy. We all fell in love.



And then I discovered the Moby wrap. It was cool. It was easy. It was hip. And Judah loved it.



It all made sense. Nurse your baby when he wants it. Keep him close. Bed in a way that lets everyone sleep. It felt good. It felt normal. It felt right.



This is what I was going to do. It wasn't popular. I read horror stories about co-sleeping, stories of babies dying in slings. Was I a terrible mother?



But then I discovered that parenting this way had a name. Attachment parenting. There were other people like me. A whole community, books, t-shirts, supportive doctors. Interesting. I didn't know doing what makes sense and is logical, had a name. Bizarre.



It is now roughly a year later and I am parenting the same way. I am passionate about this type of parenting, and I wish it was more mainstream. I wish people would realize that following your parenting instincts is normal and welcome. And that nobody should have guilt over loving thier baby, and that love does not spoil.



In the past year, I've learned a lot. And through that learning, I've formed opinions. I've posted articles, and statements, and links.



After a particularly heated recent post, 68 comments to be exact, someone said "Be an insensitive human if you want. At least you breastfeed."



This is not who I am, and this is not who I strive to be. Of all the comments, this hurt the most.



I do not think I am better than you because I breastfeed. I am not superior because I bedshare. I have never let my child cry-it-out, but that doesn't make me part of the parenting elite. I am not insensitive because I believe these things to be optimal.



I am lucky and grateful and priveleged to be a stay at home mom, who has never had to consider bottles for my absence. I've never had to think about sleep training to ensure restful solo sleep so I can attend to a roster of patients, a boss, or a classroom of children.



Would I parent differently if I were faced with these challenges? Perhaps. Is co-sleeping harder for the working mother? Maybe. Is co-sleeping easier for me? Yes. Is breastfeeding challenging for a mother with multiples, with a career, with no sleep? Certainly. Is it challenging for me? It was at first, and now it's a breeze.



I did a lot of thinking in the past few days, and I do realize that there are many factors that contribute to parent's choices. There are factors that I am not aware of, and perhaps even the parent isn't aware of deep psychological issues.



There are things in the world that I never knew until someone told me about them. And so too, I wish to teach people things as well. I'm sorry if my method of delivery isn't pluralistic and all lovey-happy-hippie, but the world isn't that way either.



I do not believe that "whatever a mother chooses for her child is the right thing". That just makes no sense. However, I won't tell you that you are wrong. I will just continue to provide articles and statements in a public forum. I have never and will never personally attack or judge. My job is Judah. And in parenting Judah, should I learn interesting things, I will share them.



I will continue to rail against formula companies. I will continue to boycott Nestle. I still maintain that breast isn't best, but normal, and that we're far away from where we should be in terms of natural parenting. I believe in human milk for human babies. I'm not out to get anyone. What you do is your business, what I do is mine, and the information I provide is optional.



Conclusion:

1. I am human. I make mistakes.

2. I do not think formula is evil.

3. I think there is a lot of information about nursing and breastmilk that is not shared with the mainstream general public.

4. Facebooks status' are not an attack on "you" personally, but the collective "you", the system.

5. Judah's entry into the world has changed my life and my opinions of the world.

6. If you're angry about my posts, that is your issue and not mine.

7. Life is about dialogue and learning. I am always open to both.

8. There is a fine line between doing what is best for yourself, and being selfish. I am not the one who draws that line.

9. I do not think I can change the world. But I might be able to make one person look at something a little bit differently. And if I do that, I've achieved my goal.

10. Unless you beat your kid, belittle them, or leave them crying in the corner for hours, I will always be your friend.



.

my friend jaci's co-sleeping advice

jaci's friend asked her about sleep. i love jaci. i love her answer. thought i would share. here are her words.


Co-sleeping means different things to different people. You can share a room, a bed, sleep together all night, not even have a crib, just let them sleep in bed when they wake up in morning....it goes on.

I had the mini co-sleeper. I pulled it right up next to me till 4 months. Then I started trying to put her in her crib for "naps" But she still slept in co-sleeper at night. The only time she would take a nap was on my boob, and I would try to lay her down in crib like people told me to do, but she would immediately wake up, so I did what IIIIII felt was best for my baby, and I layed down with her with my laptop on my bed, and just let her nurse and suck and sleep. That is the ONLY way she slept during the day till about 8/9 months. Around 6 months ish- I "wanted" to have her fall asleep awake because blah blah blah everything that every doctor, friend, book tells you so I did CIO. I will say that to this day I regret that. Looking back I WOULD HAVE NEVER DONE THAT knowing what I know now. Do I think moms that do it are horrible? no, absolutely not. I just wish I didn't do it. I didn't want to do it in my heart, and I should have listened to myself instead of others. But I digress...

That time of her life is a blur to me really, and had to check in her journal to see some stuff to write this, but all I know is at around 7 months is when she started taking a bottle so she would drink one bottle a day before bed and then we put her down to fall asleep in her crib. And then at around 12-1am she woke up and thats when I brought her in and she just nursed all night. Turning around and snacking whenever she wanted. At about 11 months is when she started sleeping from about 8pm-4/5am but I still brought her in and nursed and cuddled and slept a little longer when she woke up.

Although it's only been a VERY short 2 years that I have been a mom, ONE thing I know for sure (but still trying to act on it) is that YOU know your baby. YOU do whatever YOU feel is right for Liv. I would do ANYTHING to go back to those sleepless, nursing nights just to smell her, and cuddle her through the night, I know I'm crazy, right? lol But I still get sleepless nights but no delicious baby next to me. You WILL feel the same way!

Do I think that "spoiling" her made her into the bad sleeper that she is today? NOPE- no such thing as spoilng a baby with LOVE. I am also the kind of person that believes that it's never too late for anything. If ur BABY sleeps with u till 8 and then u want her out, she will be out. I can't stand when I hear people say "if u don't get her out by..... she will never leave" I'm a big fan of baby led anything. They are smart little people. They know what they want to eat, drink, they don't know games or deceit, they don't know hate, they don't know how to make u do things. At least I don't believe this.

U do whatever u feel is best for u, Joe, and Liv, and don't listen to anyone that gives u shit. If u want her out of ur bed but near you, my co-sleeper went up to 23 pounds, and I know they are more out there. If u want her out of ur room but don't want to CIO, u could nurse her to sleep, rock her to sleep, lay on the floor and stick ur arm in crib and pat her back till she falls asleep. And none of this lasts forever I PROMISE. Did I make any sense? it's not often that people actually WANT to hear my views, lol