Why I Am No Longer AP (eye roll)

AP parents believe that crying unattended leads to higher cortisol levels, anxiety, distrust, weight loss and general failure to thrive. When a small child or baby cries you should answer that cry.  They believe that nursing and co-sleeping should continue into toddler hood.  That most importantly we should treat our children with love and respect.

I believe in this wholeheartedly.  When my daughter screamed incessantly as an infant in pain from her food protein allergies and reflux I cuddled her close and did my best to let her know that she wasn't alone in teh cruel world.  When she was p for the 11th time that night to nurse I may have grumbled a bit but I did it because it's what she needed.  When she was toddler and cried and screamed when she couldn't have a cookie I held her and let her know that it's ok to be mad.

However, at almost 5 years old I draw the line at her kicking, hitting, screaming, and generally disrespecting me is when I draw the line.  Some days I feel as if we could be on the television show Supernanny. 

I do not think that breastfeeding on demand, cuddling her, and co-sleeping with her led to this behavior.  I believe that the lack of discipline led to this behavior.  For some reason AP parents don't like that word.  Like everyone who disciplines their child is beating them, breaking them, and doing something to cause their child to act out.  (This is where I insert eye roll.) 

Life isn't all roses and glitter.  There are consequences for our actions - both good and bad.  When a child is told that they cannot have a cookie and they scream bloody murder they can take their loud butt to their room.  When they hit you they can very well sit in time out, one minute per age. 

When children are allowed to hit a parent and there are no consequences what are you teaching them?  That it's ok to hit.  It's ok to throw a fit every time they do not get their way.

Parenting takes repitition, I do not deny that.  You start with small kids by redirecting them away from climbing on the shelf, telling them it's not safe, you repeat this over and over again.  But when child is almost 5 years old she knows she does not belong on the shelf.  It's ok to discipline her.  By disciplining her it teaches her that she is not allowed to get into dangerous situations, she needs to respect her mother so she will be kept safe, and like all things in life: there are rules and you have to follow them.

Natural consequences are cleaning up after your mess, nobody wants to play with someone who doesn't share, that children who scream can go to their rooms to do it, etc.

A few years ago this was still AP.  These days it's corporal punishment and AP'ers are letting their children do whatever they wish.  If you send your child to their room or sit them in time out then you are sentencing them to a long prison sentence.  (Insert another eye roll.)

So I suppose I am no longer AP.  I will continue to be a natural parent though.  I will continue to follow my instincts and respect my child.  In time I hope that our new discipline techniques will teach her that she can't do whatever she wants in life.  My desire is for her to be a contributing member of society who can function on their own and knows that there are laws and regulations that everyone must follow. 

Anjali Weaned

One of the most beautiful sights I've ever witnessed happened when I was a teenager:  a young mother cuddling her red newborn to the breast, her hair tumbling down around them, and her shoulder exposing her pale skin.  It plays in my mind in a fuzzy glow.  I always assumed I would breastfeed my children, probably because my mother breastfed me and my sister, but this just sealed the deal.  It's amazing that 9 years later I still remember it so clearly.  

There is no greater high than holding your child's tiny warm body close to your heart and know that your body is providing the ultimate nutrition.  Their big eyes looking up at you with complete trust.  Their heart beat is yours.

My husband is the one who made it happen.  He let the hospital know of my wishes.  He massaged and pumped my breasts for 3 days while I was in a coma.  He bought me pump after pump and told me how lucky our baby was I was attempting to nurse.  Some nights he would lay Anjali next to me and prop my breast in her mouth himself!

My beautiful girl is now 4 years and 7 months.  We have endured a coma, what I thought was low supply, thrush (many times), tongue tie, severe reflux, and severe allergies to soy and milk proteins.  Along the way we have both cried and screamed out of frustration but, most importantly, we learned to love each other.

I'm sad that this point in our lives ended but feel proud of all I have provided my daughter with.  I hope that when she is grown she will fondly remember nursing and pass that love to her children.

Heart Broken: My Missed Miscarriage

I did not feel like this pregnancy was going as it should.  Just a nagging feeling that something was wrong.  I wasn't as excited and wasn't becoming attached.  The only thing I felt strongly about was my baby was a boy.  I had an ultrasound on Monday and my suspicions were correct.  At 8 weeks pregnant the baby was measuring at 5 weeks gestation without a detectable heart beat.  My OB tried to be positive and reassure me that everything would be OK next Monday.  I knew in my heart though that my baby had passed.  I passed Monday night kind of numb. 

Tuesday night I cried harder than I have cried in a long time.  The kind of crying fit that leaves your eyes swollen shut and your head hurting.  Wednesday after a long talk with a classmate of mine I was determined to be positive.  I spent the night dreaming of my baby.  He told me his name and that he was OK, he was safe and happy.  I tried to take it to mean he was just measuring small for gestational age but he was here and growing. 

Thursday I woke up feeling at peace and went to school.  An hour later my back started to hurt like I had been bending wrong or pulled the muscle.  My heart sank. At around 9:30 I had a feeling to go the bathroom where I discovered I was bleeding bright red blood.  I went to one of my instructor's office and started crying, wondering what I should do.  I knew they couldn't stop it and she told me to go in and be seen by my doctor or go to the ER. 

I was able to be fitted in and was seen right away.  Once at the OB's office he did a vaginal ultrasound and I could see there was no change.  No baby, no heart beat.  I started crying before he said anything.  My OB was very sweet (see I don't hate all OBs), reassuring me that it wasn't anything I did and gave me my options: let it occur naturally or schedule a D&C.  I chose a D&C because I just wanted to put it behind me so I could heal, physically and emotionally.  He was able to get me in at 1pm at the surgery center. 

At 12:30 my best friend drove me to the surgery center and I checked in.  The nurse was a trip.  She fed me bullshit about how at least I can get pregnant and I could try again.  It made me angry and sad.  I wanted to scream at her!  She didn't know what I went through to get pregnant with this one baby.  She also tied my tourniquet and left the room and had the nerve to get mad when I popped it.  She was vicious with the needle and collapsed my vein. 

Finally it was time to walk to the OR.  I was nervous and the anesthesiologist administered some "funny gas" while he waited for the meds to kick in.  I remember starting to cry as I laid there. 

I don't know why they can't gradually ease you into consciousness.  Instead it's like a mack truck hits you.  The pain is initially excruciating since you do not have the capabilities to control it.  My best friend said she knew I was awake when she heard a wild animal wailing. 

I'm at home now, just trying to get through the day.  I had to tell my daughter that our baby was too small to live with us and had to go live with Jesus instead.  Maybe one day we will get our baby.

I'll always miss my sweet baby boy Arun who I never got to meet.  He'll always be there in my heart.

My Big Fat Positive!

I found out last month that I am pregnant with baby number 2!  I had convinced myself that I was just going to have an only child and made all these plans and was really starting to embrace it.  But I guess God had other plans.

I first realized I was pregnant on December 17 but I was only 5 days post ovulation.  I took a test and it was negative.  I was a bit disappointed but I had a two pack.  Two days later on the 19th I retook and it was negative again.  That night I started cramping pretty bad.  I hadn't had a period in almost 5 years so I forgot how painful cramping can be.  Two days later I still hadn't started my period.  I posted on FaceBook how I was trying not to think about it, trying not to get my hopes up.  I couldn't resist and took another test.  The first had a second line but it was more / instead of straight up and down.  I threw it out and retested. 

Can you see it? 

My friends were convinced it was an evaporation line but after reading up on it I knew it was a positive since it was pink.  If it's pink it's positive. Sometimes you can get a positive and start your period.  This is not a evaporation line, it's a chemical pregnancy.

This test result was that same day but it's lighter.  Either because it was later in the day or because these more expensive pregnancy tests actually need a higher level of hormone to turn positive.  More arguing ensued.

I went to the doctor for a blood test because I was tired of paying money to pee on things.  I had blood drawn done to know without a doubt.  I called a few hours later to get my result and was informed hey wouldn't have it until December 23, the next day.  I couldn't wait that long and bought more tests.

  POSITIVE!!!!!

Now I get to have my unassisted birth after cesarean (UBAC)!  I get to buy cute little cloth diapers, knitted booties and bear ear hats, smell baby sweetness and gave into wide eyed wonder.

Artificial Womb vs. Natural Pregnancy

A substitute for natural pregnancy has been developed by Breed Bronson, Inc., makers of Infantill formula and other baby products. The YOUterus/Plus-centa unit was introduced in pharmacies and discount stores nationwide today.
A company representative explained the rationale for the product: "Many women find it inconvenient to carry their fetuses and maintain a healthy food supply for them for an entire nine months. Pregnancy changes their figures, can interfere with job performance, and requires avoiding drugs and junk food. And some men don't like to be reminded that female sex organs don't exist solely for them."
After a woman's fetus is implanted in a YOUterus/Plus-centa, the unit is simply kept in contact with a body having a temperature of 98.6* F. "But after the second trimester, " commented the representative, "the fetus can maintain its own warmth. It can be left completely alone, except for periodic refilling of the Plus-centa feeding solution."
When asked if such technology would be an acceptable substitute for a woman's experience of new life developing within her, the representative stated: "We believe it will be fairly common for women to carry their own babies the first few weeks, when the thrill of motherhood is new. But soon, anyone experiencing nausea will be referred to our product. Eventually, anyone appearing pregnant after 6 months will be considered a fanatic."
"Eventually there will be psychologists, completely ignorant of the history of human reproduction, who will state that after 6 months, natural gestation is harmful to the fetus' independence."
All preliminary research has indicated that artificially fed fetuses are significantly less healthy than their naturally nourished counterparts. The Breed Bronson representative commented: "The literature accompanying the units will state that natural pregnancy is preferable. But that won't affect sales. We'll spend millions on freebies to obstetricians, and they'll convey to their patients that natural pregnancy is not greatly important, just a matter of personal preference."
"Through advertising dollars, we'll also enlist the media. Television will present natural pregnancy as abnormal by never showing it. 'Yes, we're expecting,' your favorite sitcom character will say, 'our housekeeper is carrying the baby right now.' Parents will come to believe that pregnancy, especially in public, is immodest."
"In natural pregnancy, only mom carries and nourishes the baby. With a YOUterus/Plus-centa, dad, grandma and sitter will all have equal access. We'll promote this idea that democracy, and not quality or safety, is what is important in fetal feeding."
When asked if the company was concerned about government regulation of a product proven harmful to developing babies, the representative stated: "Are you kidding? We project the government will buy one third of our units to distribute to poor women."

Anjali Grace Turns 3

Precious Gift

© Sherri Lawrence

When times seem too hard to bear & I l feel like giving up

I vision your beautiful face, the twinkle of your eyes and things of such

The bond we created from my womb to the day you were born

Is a mother and daughter bind that can never be torn

With the strength and guidance of God and the blessings he pours down from above

I want to be the best mom I can be to you and embrace you with all my love

You are as precious as a flower and as gorgeous as a rose

You have been specially made to the very tip of your nose

You are as sweet as honey; such an innocent young child

You are brighter than any star in the sky every time you smile

I want you to be proud of who you are and strive to be the best

Put forth your efforts to achieve your goals and let God do the rest

I will always be your mother first, but I'm also your friend

Your are the most precious gift, that I've ever been given

With All My Love,

Mommy

My big baby girl is 3 years old today. It seems just like yesterday that I brought her home from the hospital.  I miss all the days we spent cuddled in bed nursing. Every day I look at her and my chest hurts from all the love I have for her. She's so clever and active, always ahead for her age. One day I'll wake up and she will grown with kids of her own.  I hope that she knows how much I love her. She's the most precious thing to me and I'm so lucky to be her mom.

I baked her a castle cake today for her birthday.  Two tiers, each two layers, pink frosting, turetts, and all.  She loved it and it made my heart so happy to see her so excited.  I'll have to post pictures later.  They are on my sister's phone and it's sooo much trouble to e-mail them to me.

I Matter Too

"The ax forgets; the tree remembers" ~ African proverb

http://www.cesarean-art.com/html/frames/framesetall.htm

What do you want? A baby. You got one.

People will smile at you and pat you on the shoulder.  "At least you have a healthy baby." they say.  Like I'm not greatful that I have a beautiful little girl.  That the way she was birth mattered more than her safety.  It doesn't.

But I matter too. 

It's like someone telling a tornado victim who just lost their roof that at least they are left with the four walls...some people don't even have that. 

No, more. An image of

laboring in harmony with the child,

in a loving helpful embrace with my husband,

soft music, a gentle cheering section

of nurses and midwives and doctors

in clean white gloves handing

the squirmy grateful puddle

onto my nurturing breast.

I can mourn the loss of experiencing birth and still love my daughter.  I can seperate the two, seperate an innocent baby from the horrific act. 

I wish someone had told me,

I wish I knew how much the section would hurt

for weeks, months later.

Years.

My throat closes up just remembering,

I shudder and get quieter.

I'm physically and emotionally scared for life.  There is a scar on my stomach and uterus.  Every time I look down in the shower I can see it.  I see it and know my soul mirrors my body.

It has healed beautifully, my physical scar.  Just a small white line...barely visible.  Just as my scar on my soul is barely visible to the public eye.  It has also healed nicely.

Most people don't know that sometimes it rears it's ugly head with rage and pain.  Just as they don't know that sometimes my lungs burn and I feel like I can't breath...just like when I was drowning in IV fluid.  They don't know that my scar will sometimes burn like when I was mutilated.

I'm shivering, so cold, please hold

my hand, don't go

away, don't leave me now, they're not

done with me, I'm lying here

awake and my body is open

to the air like some awful hara kiri,

crucified and

DISEMBOWELED ALIVE

 

Nobody understands how it feels to have what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life turn into a living nightmare.  To be so exposed and vulnerable.  To come close to death in the name of modern maternity care.  So alone.

I'm a moderator for a few different pregnancy and childbirth support groups.  I love learning about this topic that has become my passion.  I love knowing that I have helped women that I know have a beautiful vaingal birth. 

And yet, I am so jealous.  It makes me sad and angry that I have not given birth.  Anjali is from my womb but I was not an active participant in her birth. 

I was just a body,

these methodical doctors and

technicians working efficiently,

coldly, mechanically

Like a car they could just

disconnect the battery and close the hood;

I was not a person.

I was not a person for weeks, for months.

Dehumanized.

It was something painful and humiliating that was done to me while I was being killed by the very people I trusted. 

Not beeping machines and IVs and

stretched out on this strange cruciform

each arm reaching to the walls,

tubes in my spine, and the reflection

of my own bloody entrails

in the overhead fixture.

I've had an image in my mind for almost 10 years of what the perfect birth would be like.  I think about it often, more times than I care to admit.  One day I will have a perfect birth but I will never stop loving my daughter. 




WAR STORY

by Mary Most
June 94 After her first ICAN meeting