We are moving to Utah in a few weeks. Thak was hired yesterday by a civilian contracting firm that has a test facility there for unmanned aircraft. We don't have any details yet, really. He will be doing salary negotiations and ironing out all the details with corporate on Monday, so we'll know more then. All we know right now is that we are moving, and it will be soon, within the next few weeks most likely.
We are THRILLED to get out of El Paso, and none of the crappy things people are telling us about Utah matter. It's not El Paso, and the job pays enough for us to live on. That's what matters. Salt Lake City even has a Whole Foods, a Trader Joe's, and a real cloth diaper store!! I don't CARE that everyone there is Mormon. I went to Basic and AIT with a few Mormons and they seemed like regular people to me, so I don't really see what the big deal is with Mormons, and why people keep warning me about them. Sure, I've heard they come to your door selling religion, but how's that any different from all the other people who do that every other place you might live? It seems the same to me. Plus, we're trying to get sort of out in the country. We really don't want to do another neighborhood. It's just been such a disaster living in a neighborhood here, so we decided that we're going to try not to do that again, so if we're out in the country, we'll probably get at least slightly fewer door to door types. But even if we get them every day, so what? We're leaving El Paso!! What's more, we're going to a place that has a lot more stuff that we like. There are lots of places for Thak to hunt. There is an actual body of water. There are a lot of fun outdoor activities that we and the kids will like. There is grass in every yard, and wildflowers on the roadsides. Thak said the terrain is kind of like it is in Lubbock, which is cool with me, because it's a lot prettier there than it is here!
I honestly don't think anyone can understand how great it could be just to see grass and maybe even a few trees again after living for two and a half years in a place that is nothing but brown and desolate, with only dirt, rocks, and tumble weeds. I can tell you, though, just to see some green again, is a really big deal. All the rest is awesome, too. Also not having to wonder where our next meal is coming from, or which bills we'll get to pay any given month, is a very big deal. That alone is enough to make us very excited about our new life in Utah!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
More boob stuff.
This article is awesome. Read it.
The reason it's awesome is because it discusses a really important subject. Breastfeeding advocacy is big these days, and I think that's great. I mean, our country has a dismally low breastfeeding rate (Did you know only 75% of women ever even TRY to nurse their babies?? The percentage who succeed... well, that's far lower.) We'll never improve this if it doesn't occur to women to breastfeed in the first place, and if the real facts aren't brought to the people from time to time. The latter is especially important in these times of aggressive formula marketing, and formula pushing, especially for those who birth in hospitals, which 99% of American women do.
Breastfeeding advocacy is important. Moms need to hear that it's great to breastfeed; Breastmilk is more nutritious than formula; All the cool celebrities, their hot neighbor, and the skinny bitch at the gym all breastfeed their babies; whatever it's going to take to make it seem like a good idea to them is important to get out. Somewhere in there, though, a line has been crossed. Now, breastfeeding advocacy has gone from something great and empowering, to something almost threatening.
I am someone who always knew that the correct way to feed a baby is to nurse them. I have always had the knowledge that breastmilk is THE appropriate food for babies, that formula exists, but it's really a last resort, one not a lot of people truly need to even think about. When I was pregnant with Erin, it was never a question of IF I would breastfeed. I knew I would. I looked at people funny when they gave me bottles in baby shower gifts, because why on earth would people assume that I would need something like that? I was young, and healthy, and I could nurse the baby just fine. I wouldn't say I actually had some strong desire to breastfeed at that point in time. I just didn't really acknowledge that there were other viable ways to feed a baby. Babies nurse. That's that.
You know the saying, "I was a better parent before I had kids", meaning people think they know what the hell they're doing, until they actually have to do it? Well, I was way better at breastfeeding before I had kids. Nobody tells you how hard it is. Nobody tells you how bad it hurts. They tell you that if it hurts, you have a bad latch. In my experience, this is yet another way that society has taken to blaming the victim. Even with the best latch in the world, it was excruciating. Through cracks, and bleeding, and extreme pain that lasted every moment of every feeding, and then supply issues that prompted our well meaning pediatrician to tell me to nurse Erin every hour around the clock, I nursed Erin for one week. On the seventh day, I went to the lactation consultant. She gave me my first bottle of formula. For the first time, I fed Erin and it didn't hurt. I never nursed her again. I'm sure that wasn't the lactation consultant's aim in giving me the bottle to give to Erin, but it was relief, and I didn't know why I didn't think of it sooner. It had just never occurred to me that I could use formula. That's what trashy women from the trailer park did. I always saw bottle feeding as just strange and gross. Bottles with formula always looked like they would smell bad, and taste even worse, so I really never thought I would end up actually liking to feed my daughter that way, but that's exactly what happened.
Occasionally, I would have someone say something to me about how I should have kept breastfeeding her, and how she was going to suffer for the fact that I didn't nurse her for long, but it didn't really make me feel bad. I was doing the best I could, and I was far better able to care for Erin if I didn't resent her so badly for the pain it caused me to nurse her.
Five years later, there was Orren. Again, it was always the plan to breastfeed. I had fed formula before, but even then, I found it kind of gross, and really didn't want to do that again. I wasn't exactly excited about the prospect of breastfeeding. I knew by then that it hurt like hell, and that it wasn't easy, or this thing that comes as naturally as breathing or walking, the way a lot of people lead others to believe. I knew it would be hard, but I thought maybe since I knew more about it this time, and also since I wasn't single anymore, and would have Thak to help me, I would be able to get through the hard first weeks, and make a success of it.
When Orren was born, he nursed like a champ. He had a way better latch than Erin, and was just a stronger baby (not that Erin was weak. Orren was just strong as an ox right from the start.) but a 9 pound 9 ounce newborn has to nurse A LOT, and before 24 hours were out, despite the best latch ever, the same old pain and cracking began again. Every time I nursed Orren, it hurt from start to finish. My reflex was to throw him off me every time he latched on, just because it hurt so bad. I never did that, of course, but that's what my reflex reaction was.
One night, I was so tired, and Thak told me to just pump some milk for a bottle, and he would stay up with Orren while I got some sleep. I got out my pump (I only had a hand pump at that time) and tried to get some milk out. All I got was blood. Seeing that, Thak said no more breastfeeding, and ran to the store for formula. What I thought would be my biggest asset turned out to be my downfall that time. I don't fault him for it. He had a very hard time seeing me in that much pain, and being able to do nothing about it short of buying formula, and forbidding me from nursing our little son anymore.
I will never forget the last time I nursed Orren. It was a Friday, and the sun was shining through my window. I lay on my left side on our bed, and Orren latched on with less pain than I had felt in a long time. I knew it was wrong to quit nursing him, and I think Thak did, too, but we switched to formula that day. He was barely over a week old.
As much as it may seem contrary, I did not take this decision lightly. I remember making Thak read me every ingredient on every can of formula in Hinesville Wal Mart, and trying to figure out what the least of the evils was. Orren drank nothing but organic and GMO-free formula because I felt slightly less horrible about giving it to him than the other stuff. The feeling of mixing that first bottle was like falling down a rabbit hole. It's like, you know it's wrong, and all the news articles about how inferior formula is in every single way, and every documentary that was ever made on that same subject, just race through your mind as you measure out water and scoop the mix into it. You know it's wrong. It's been drilled into your head how shitty formula is for babies, and you know that you shouldn't be using it, but at the same time, breastfeeding is looking more and more impossible with every feeding. You're exhausted, in pain, and just want some rest. You mix up the bottle. A month later, our pediatrician yelled at me for not breastfeeding (thus reaffirming that formula is BAD, and I know BETTER), so I bought an expensive pump, a bunch of supplements, and spent hours of every day for the next month and a half, attempting to reestablish lactation. I never got more than a couple ounces a day, and Orren was never willing to latch back on again. After our move to El Paso, we just used formula.
When I had Chaiyo, two years after Orren was born, again, I knew I HAD to make breastfeeding work that time. Had to. No choice. This time, we couldn't even afford formula even if I wanted it, which I certainly didn't. I was still pretty grossed out by the stuff, even having fed two babies on it, and this one was going to be the one that was different. I would not have Thak to support me as much as I did with Orren, because he had to go back to work just a couple days after Chai was born, but I would have to make it work somehow.
Chai's birth was by far my most difficult. Some women who give birth to a 10 pound baby at home will tell of how easy it was, but I am not those people. I had an easy birth once (Orren's), but Chai's was very difficult. He was 10 pounds 2 ounces, and was born his hand up by his face, and his shoulders got stuck. After he was out, I had excessive bleeding that required medication to control. It was a difficult birth. I remembered from when Orren was a baby, just how much he ate when he was born, how he was ravenous. Well, I quickly found out that the only thing in my life that nurses more than a 9 pound baby, is a 10 pound baby. It didn't take long for the pain and the cracking to come back. This time, I had a big tube of lanolin to help prevent that stuff, but it didn't really work all that well. I still had extreme pain, just as bad as the other two times. Only difference is that this time, I didn't even have the option to switch to formula, and every time I fed him, just like with the other two, I thought to myself, "Holy shit. I have to do this for a year. How am I going to make it?" When he was a week old, I felt something I remembered from when Erin was that age. Postpartum depression was setting in, only this time, the one thing I knew that would keep it away was not an option. I could not stop breastfeeding. We couldn't afford it.
We decided that we had to supplement just a little, so I could get some sleep, so again, Thak read me the ingredients of every formula label in the store. I told him to get organic, but he couldn't find it, so he got a very common type of formula, and we gave Chai a bottle (which caused him to spit up for the first time in his life. Talk about feeling like shit.) I had to keep my milk supply up, but latching him on was SO painful, so I got out my pump, and I pumped every hour for 15 minutes. I fed the pumped milk to Chai, and gave formula when that wasn't enough to fill him up. After a week of that, I latched him back on, and we've been nursing ever since.
There was still the matter of the supplemental formula, though. We had to get off the supplement, because it was hurting my supply, and we needed to do it before three months, because that's when supply regulates. As of a couple weeks ago, Chaiyo is exclusively breastfed. I'm probably the only one who notices how good my kitchen looks with no formula cans anywhere to be found. I'm probably the only one who cares about that, but I do care, because I've worked so hard to get to this point.
The idea is, I suppose, that some people legitimately have a hard time with breastfeeding. I have always known it as what was normal. It wasn't something that I had to get used to the idea of, quite the opposite, really. I had the best circumstances. No care giver of mine has ever offered me formula. I have never been separated from any of my babies during their first days and weeks of life. Nobody ever told me breastfeeding was nasty or bad. I've never even received formula samples in the mail like I'm always hearing about people getting. The ideal situation for a successful breastfeeding experience almost exactly mirrors my reality, yet I still had these major difficulties that caused me to quit breastfeeding really early with my first two, and supplement with formula for a couple months with my third.
I agonized endlessly over the decision to give formula. I never wanted to use the stuff because I know how crappy it is. I have received the facts. I have the knowledge. I even had the best chances to succeed, but I STILL ended up using the stuff. I would say the only thing that the extreme form that breastfeeding advocacy has mostly taken these days got me is the stress of feeling absolutely horrible about the manner in which I ended up feeding Erin and Orren. It got me to think it is embarrassing to use formula. I don't know where the balance is, really. Breast IS best. It really is. That's why I so adamantly stuck with it this time, even after knowing nothing but pain and failure with it in the past. But I have to wonder if a line has not been crossed, when moms who have genuinely done their best are feeling terrible for the way they feed their babies. Maybe breastfeeding advocacy has gone too far. Maybe those of us who do believe in this thing (and that includes me) need to figure out how to walk that line a little better. Encourage and support, give facts, and correct misconceptions, but the shaming, I think, we can certainly do without.
The reason it's awesome is because it discusses a really important subject. Breastfeeding advocacy is big these days, and I think that's great. I mean, our country has a dismally low breastfeeding rate (Did you know only 75% of women ever even TRY to nurse their babies?? The percentage who succeed... well, that's far lower.) We'll never improve this if it doesn't occur to women to breastfeed in the first place, and if the real facts aren't brought to the people from time to time. The latter is especially important in these times of aggressive formula marketing, and formula pushing, especially for those who birth in hospitals, which 99% of American women do. Breastfeeding advocacy is important. Moms need to hear that it's great to breastfeed; Breastmilk is more nutritious than formula; All the cool celebrities, their hot neighbor, and the skinny bitch at the gym all breastfeed their babies; whatever it's going to take to make it seem like a good idea to them is important to get out. Somewhere in there, though, a line has been crossed. Now, breastfeeding advocacy has gone from something great and empowering, to something almost threatening.
I am someone who always knew that the correct way to feed a baby is to nurse them. I have always had the knowledge that breastmilk is THE appropriate food for babies, that formula exists, but it's really a last resort, one not a lot of people truly need to even think about. When I was pregnant with Erin, it was never a question of IF I would breastfeed. I knew I would. I looked at people funny when they gave me bottles in baby shower gifts, because why on earth would people assume that I would need something like that? I was young, and healthy, and I could nurse the baby just fine. I wouldn't say I actually had some strong desire to breastfeed at that point in time. I just didn't really acknowledge that there were other viable ways to feed a baby. Babies nurse. That's that.
You know the saying, "I was a better parent before I had kids", meaning people think they know what the hell they're doing, until they actually have to do it? Well, I was way better at breastfeeding before I had kids. Nobody tells you how hard it is. Nobody tells you how bad it hurts. They tell you that if it hurts, you have a bad latch. In my experience, this is yet another way that society has taken to blaming the victim. Even with the best latch in the world, it was excruciating. Through cracks, and bleeding, and extreme pain that lasted every moment of every feeding, and then supply issues that prompted our well meaning pediatrician to tell me to nurse Erin every hour around the clock, I nursed Erin for one week. On the seventh day, I went to the lactation consultant. She gave me my first bottle of formula. For the first time, I fed Erin and it didn't hurt. I never nursed her again. I'm sure that wasn't the lactation consultant's aim in giving me the bottle to give to Erin, but it was relief, and I didn't know why I didn't think of it sooner. It had just never occurred to me that I could use formula. That's what trashy women from the trailer park did. I always saw bottle feeding as just strange and gross. Bottles with formula always looked like they would smell bad, and taste even worse, so I really never thought I would end up actually liking to feed my daughter that way, but that's exactly what happened.
Occasionally, I would have someone say something to me about how I should have kept breastfeeding her, and how she was going to suffer for the fact that I didn't nurse her for long, but it didn't really make me feel bad. I was doing the best I could, and I was far better able to care for Erin if I didn't resent her so badly for the pain it caused me to nurse her.
Five years later, there was Orren. Again, it was always the plan to breastfeed. I had fed formula before, but even then, I found it kind of gross, and really didn't want to do that again. I wasn't exactly excited about the prospect of breastfeeding. I knew by then that it hurt like hell, and that it wasn't easy, or this thing that comes as naturally as breathing or walking, the way a lot of people lead others to believe. I knew it would be hard, but I thought maybe since I knew more about it this time, and also since I wasn't single anymore, and would have Thak to help me, I would be able to get through the hard first weeks, and make a success of it.
When Orren was born, he nursed like a champ. He had a way better latch than Erin, and was just a stronger baby (not that Erin was weak. Orren was just strong as an ox right from the start.) but a 9 pound 9 ounce newborn has to nurse A LOT, and before 24 hours were out, despite the best latch ever, the same old pain and cracking began again. Every time I nursed Orren, it hurt from start to finish. My reflex was to throw him off me every time he latched on, just because it hurt so bad. I never did that, of course, but that's what my reflex reaction was.
One night, I was so tired, and Thak told me to just pump some milk for a bottle, and he would stay up with Orren while I got some sleep. I got out my pump (I only had a hand pump at that time) and tried to get some milk out. All I got was blood. Seeing that, Thak said no more breastfeeding, and ran to the store for formula. What I thought would be my biggest asset turned out to be my downfall that time. I don't fault him for it. He had a very hard time seeing me in that much pain, and being able to do nothing about it short of buying formula, and forbidding me from nursing our little son anymore.
I will never forget the last time I nursed Orren. It was a Friday, and the sun was shining through my window. I lay on my left side on our bed, and Orren latched on with less pain than I had felt in a long time. I knew it was wrong to quit nursing him, and I think Thak did, too, but we switched to formula that day. He was barely over a week old.
As much as it may seem contrary, I did not take this decision lightly. I remember making Thak read me every ingredient on every can of formula in Hinesville Wal Mart, and trying to figure out what the least of the evils was. Orren drank nothing but organic and GMO-free formula because I felt slightly less horrible about giving it to him than the other stuff. The feeling of mixing that first bottle was like falling down a rabbit hole. It's like, you know it's wrong, and all the news articles about how inferior formula is in every single way, and every documentary that was ever made on that same subject, just race through your mind as you measure out water and scoop the mix into it. You know it's wrong. It's been drilled into your head how shitty formula is for babies, and you know that you shouldn't be using it, but at the same time, breastfeeding is looking more and more impossible with every feeding. You're exhausted, in pain, and just want some rest. You mix up the bottle. A month later, our pediatrician yelled at me for not breastfeeding (thus reaffirming that formula is BAD, and I know BETTER), so I bought an expensive pump, a bunch of supplements, and spent hours of every day for the next month and a half, attempting to reestablish lactation. I never got more than a couple ounces a day, and Orren was never willing to latch back on again. After our move to El Paso, we just used formula.
When I had Chaiyo, two years after Orren was born, again, I knew I HAD to make breastfeeding work that time. Had to. No choice. This time, we couldn't even afford formula even if I wanted it, which I certainly didn't. I was still pretty grossed out by the stuff, even having fed two babies on it, and this one was going to be the one that was different. I would not have Thak to support me as much as I did with Orren, because he had to go back to work just a couple days after Chai was born, but I would have to make it work somehow.
Chai's birth was by far my most difficult. Some women who give birth to a 10 pound baby at home will tell of how easy it was, but I am not those people. I had an easy birth once (Orren's), but Chai's was very difficult. He was 10 pounds 2 ounces, and was born his hand up by his face, and his shoulders got stuck. After he was out, I had excessive bleeding that required medication to control. It was a difficult birth. I remembered from when Orren was a baby, just how much he ate when he was born, how he was ravenous. Well, I quickly found out that the only thing in my life that nurses more than a 9 pound baby, is a 10 pound baby. It didn't take long for the pain and the cracking to come back. This time, I had a big tube of lanolin to help prevent that stuff, but it didn't really work all that well. I still had extreme pain, just as bad as the other two times. Only difference is that this time, I didn't even have the option to switch to formula, and every time I fed him, just like with the other two, I thought to myself, "Holy shit. I have to do this for a year. How am I going to make it?" When he was a week old, I felt something I remembered from when Erin was that age. Postpartum depression was setting in, only this time, the one thing I knew that would keep it away was not an option. I could not stop breastfeeding. We couldn't afford it.
We decided that we had to supplement just a little, so I could get some sleep, so again, Thak read me the ingredients of every formula label in the store. I told him to get organic, but he couldn't find it, so he got a very common type of formula, and we gave Chai a bottle (which caused him to spit up for the first time in his life. Talk about feeling like shit.) I had to keep my milk supply up, but latching him on was SO painful, so I got out my pump, and I pumped every hour for 15 minutes. I fed the pumped milk to Chai, and gave formula when that wasn't enough to fill him up. After a week of that, I latched him back on, and we've been nursing ever since.
There was still the matter of the supplemental formula, though. We had to get off the supplement, because it was hurting my supply, and we needed to do it before three months, because that's when supply regulates. As of a couple weeks ago, Chaiyo is exclusively breastfed. I'm probably the only one who notices how good my kitchen looks with no formula cans anywhere to be found. I'm probably the only one who cares about that, but I do care, because I've worked so hard to get to this point.
The idea is, I suppose, that some people legitimately have a hard time with breastfeeding. I have always known it as what was normal. It wasn't something that I had to get used to the idea of, quite the opposite, really. I had the best circumstances. No care giver of mine has ever offered me formula. I have never been separated from any of my babies during their first days and weeks of life. Nobody ever told me breastfeeding was nasty or bad. I've never even received formula samples in the mail like I'm always hearing about people getting. The ideal situation for a successful breastfeeding experience almost exactly mirrors my reality, yet I still had these major difficulties that caused me to quit breastfeeding really early with my first two, and supplement with formula for a couple months with my third.
I agonized endlessly over the decision to give formula. I never wanted to use the stuff because I know how crappy it is. I have received the facts. I have the knowledge. I even had the best chances to succeed, but I STILL ended up using the stuff. I would say the only thing that the extreme form that breastfeeding advocacy has mostly taken these days got me is the stress of feeling absolutely horrible about the manner in which I ended up feeding Erin and Orren. It got me to think it is embarrassing to use formula. I don't know where the balance is, really. Breast IS best. It really is. That's why I so adamantly stuck with it this time, even after knowing nothing but pain and failure with it in the past. But I have to wonder if a line has not been crossed, when moms who have genuinely done their best are feeling terrible for the way they feed their babies. Maybe breastfeeding advocacy has gone too far. Maybe those of us who do believe in this thing (and that includes me) need to figure out how to walk that line a little better. Encourage and support, give facts, and correct misconceptions, but the shaming, I think, we can certainly do without.
Friday, September 9, 2011
R&R babies
There's a picture circulating the internet these past few days of a pregnant military wife welcoming her husband home from a 15 month deployment. Everyone is saying how nasty that is, and how that baby couldn't possibly be his, and stuff like that. This rubs me the wrong way big time.
See, I was that pregnant wife welcoming my husband home from a 15 month deployment almost exactly three years ago. It didn't occur to me until well after the fact how that probably looked to people. Sure, you figure on explaining this to people with absolutely no knowledge of the military (like the ones who are shocked to find out that the war doesn't take a break for Christmas). You patiently tell them when they ask, "Yeah, Thak came home for 18 days 11.5 months into the deployment. Yes, every soldier gets to do that. It's called EML, better known as, R&R. This baby is very much his." Of course we expected some ribbing from the guys in his unit when he arrived back to his FOB after finding out that we were expecting, when he called from the Baghdad Airport. His friends were congratulatory, of course, and never said anything stupid, but the typical wise asses, and people who don't like us, of course had plenty to say. We expected that. I'm sure the wife in the picture, and her husband had the same experience, and they probably figured it was par for the course as well. Most people do. No, what surprised me was the reaction of military wives to this. Like, really? Doesn't everybody know somebody who's had an R&R baby? In the case of the people I'm referring to, yes, they know AT LEAST one person. They know me! That's why it surprised me that a picture of a pregnant wife at a homecoming ceremony raised such a stir. When I saw it, my reaction was, "Oh, another R&R baby!" It was no big deal. I was like, "What am I supposed to be seeing here?"
A lot of people assert that the odds are just so slim that you can have an R&R baby, that the odds are actually greater that a wife who's pregnant at homecoming was, in fact, cheating during the deployment. Of course that's total crap. So I'm going to tell you how to have an R&R baby. This is what we did. It won't work for everybody, but the 2-year-old on my lap is proof that it works for some people.
1) Be ridiculously fertile. Yes, this is luck of the draw. Some people are, though. While there's little that can be done to influence this in a lot of cases, there are things you can do to somewhat boost your chances. Get to a normal body mass index, eat plenty of superfoods (Acai, pommegranate, goji, etc), and plenty of calcium. Have your husband get plenty of zinc. No drinking or smoking for either of you. OK, maybe not NONE... Thak drank a couple beers a day over R&R and we still conceived fine. Just keep it moderate with the drinking.
2) Chart cycles. Get a couple calendars and a highlighter for this. You'll need them. You will need to know your body VERY well if you're going to conceive a baby with your husband home for only two weeks out of an entire year. You only get one chance, so you absolutely must know your body. Some people like the book Taking Charge of Your Fertility. If you're unsure about how reproduction works, definitely read it.
3) Be married to someone with enough influence in the unit to choose his R&R dates, and be reasonably sure they stick. Thak chose our dates after three months of tracking cycles, and using a projection of what days we would best conceive in the 12th month of the deployment. Then he requested those dates, and was approved. Not a lot of people will say no to a three tour guy. It helps if your husband has a lot of combat experience, and everyone knows it, before you try something like this.
4) Have someone on deck to switch dates if your cycle does something stupid and the dates you pick out won't work. We had a scare like that, and there was a kind Lieutenant who said she would switch with Thak if necessary. It didn't become necessary, but it was good to have that option just in case it did.
5) Hope for the best. Because really, even with the best possible circumstances, there's still a shit load of luck involved.
But there you have it. That's how we had an R&R baby. It was really the only way to have babies at Ft. Stewart between the years of 2003 and 2010, when the deployment schedule was so constant, and getting orders out of there was the nearest to impossible. That is, unless you're ok with giving birth alone, which I absolutely am not. (That is seriously the ONE Army experience I refuse to have any part of. It is a total deal breaker.) Thak and I realized, after a few years, that there was never going to be a time when he would be home long enough to go through a whole pregnancy, be there for the birth, and spend any time at all with the baby, if we didn't conceive over R&R, so that's what we did. We're very lucky. We know not everybody is. The fact is, though, it's not just random chance. Orren might just be one of the most planned babies there ever was. Every day of our lives for over a year (because we had decided to do this before he left for his 3rd tour), we did something that related to planning for Orren. We didn't just happen into this. The fact is, anyone who goes to the lengths we went to, to make sure everything was just right and we had the best chances, should have a better than average chance of getting their very own R&R baby.
If you do have an R&R baby, I promise I won't say anything nasty about you being pregnant at your husband's homecoming. ;-)
See, I was that pregnant wife welcoming my husband home from a 15 month deployment almost exactly three years ago. It didn't occur to me until well after the fact how that probably looked to people. Sure, you figure on explaining this to people with absolutely no knowledge of the military (like the ones who are shocked to find out that the war doesn't take a break for Christmas). You patiently tell them when they ask, "Yeah, Thak came home for 18 days 11.5 months into the deployment. Yes, every soldier gets to do that. It's called EML, better known as, R&R. This baby is very much his." Of course we expected some ribbing from the guys in his unit when he arrived back to his FOB after finding out that we were expecting, when he called from the Baghdad Airport. His friends were congratulatory, of course, and never said anything stupid, but the typical wise asses, and people who don't like us, of course had plenty to say. We expected that. I'm sure the wife in the picture, and her husband had the same experience, and they probably figured it was par for the course as well. Most people do. No, what surprised me was the reaction of military wives to this. Like, really? Doesn't everybody know somebody who's had an R&R baby? In the case of the people I'm referring to, yes, they know AT LEAST one person. They know me! That's why it surprised me that a picture of a pregnant wife at a homecoming ceremony raised such a stir. When I saw it, my reaction was, "Oh, another R&R baby!" It was no big deal. I was like, "What am I supposed to be seeing here?"
A lot of people assert that the odds are just so slim that you can have an R&R baby, that the odds are actually greater that a wife who's pregnant at homecoming was, in fact, cheating during the deployment. Of course that's total crap. So I'm going to tell you how to have an R&R baby. This is what we did. It won't work for everybody, but the 2-year-old on my lap is proof that it works for some people.
1) Be ridiculously fertile. Yes, this is luck of the draw. Some people are, though. While there's little that can be done to influence this in a lot of cases, there are things you can do to somewhat boost your chances. Get to a normal body mass index, eat plenty of superfoods (Acai, pommegranate, goji, etc), and plenty of calcium. Have your husband get plenty of zinc. No drinking or smoking for either of you. OK, maybe not NONE... Thak drank a couple beers a day over R&R and we still conceived fine. Just keep it moderate with the drinking.
2) Chart cycles. Get a couple calendars and a highlighter for this. You'll need them. You will need to know your body VERY well if you're going to conceive a baby with your husband home for only two weeks out of an entire year. You only get one chance, so you absolutely must know your body. Some people like the book Taking Charge of Your Fertility. If you're unsure about how reproduction works, definitely read it.
3) Be married to someone with enough influence in the unit to choose his R&R dates, and be reasonably sure they stick. Thak chose our dates after three months of tracking cycles, and using a projection of what days we would best conceive in the 12th month of the deployment. Then he requested those dates, and was approved. Not a lot of people will say no to a three tour guy. It helps if your husband has a lot of combat experience, and everyone knows it, before you try something like this.
4) Have someone on deck to switch dates if your cycle does something stupid and the dates you pick out won't work. We had a scare like that, and there was a kind Lieutenant who said she would switch with Thak if necessary. It didn't become necessary, but it was good to have that option just in case it did.
5) Hope for the best. Because really, even with the best possible circumstances, there's still a shit load of luck involved.
But there you have it. That's how we had an R&R baby. It was really the only way to have babies at Ft. Stewart between the years of 2003 and 2010, when the deployment schedule was so constant, and getting orders out of there was the nearest to impossible. That is, unless you're ok with giving birth alone, which I absolutely am not. (That is seriously the ONE Army experience I refuse to have any part of. It is a total deal breaker.) Thak and I realized, after a few years, that there was never going to be a time when he would be home long enough to go through a whole pregnancy, be there for the birth, and spend any time at all with the baby, if we didn't conceive over R&R, so that's what we did. We're very lucky. We know not everybody is. The fact is, though, it's not just random chance. Orren might just be one of the most planned babies there ever was. Every day of our lives for over a year (because we had decided to do this before he left for his 3rd tour), we did something that related to planning for Orren. We didn't just happen into this. The fact is, anyone who goes to the lengths we went to, to make sure everything was just right and we had the best chances, should have a better than average chance of getting their very own R&R baby.
If you do have an R&R baby, I promise I won't say anything nasty about you being pregnant at your husband's homecoming. ;-)
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
What is a learning disability?
I'm somewhat new to the whole academic special needs thing, but as the parent of a child with learning disabilities, it didn't take me long to notice that misconceptions abound. Erin has four diagnosed processing disorders, two auditory and two visual. She's also speech delayed. These things are related. These things seem relatively straight forward to me, but then again, it is my kid, so it would. I find that it's not generally very well understood by society at large, or other parents.
Understand first that my child is the canary in the academic coal mine. She can't just walk into any school and succeed. She's not SO impaired that they'll put her in a special class, but she's impaired enough that she can't succeed without special help. She will always be mainstream with her peers, but she will probably always need a tutor, and will likely need help from a special ed teacher on a part time basis for years to come. She also needs a speech therapist for now. You can understand what she says, and she's actually only about a year behind in her speech, but speech therapy helps her to progress in other areas since her speech delay and her processing disorders are related. A school that does not offer her the perfect balance of inclusion with her peers, and help she needs, is a disaster for her. Since she's a little girl, this is even more amplified. Often, boys with learning disabilities get rambunctious and destructive since they're bored in regular classes where they don't understand. They get help because the teacher notices their disruption. Girls like Erin, on the other hand, tend to just hang back and be quiet. They're easy to brush off and just not do anything for. This is what happened to Erin in public school. The school your child excelled in may quite well be a disaster for mine. I am not exaggerating when I say how horrid Ysleta ISD was to us, or how any parent of a child with learning disabilities should be skeptical of them. Yes, your gifted or dead average child did fine. Yes, your extremely autistic child got help. It's the ones like my kid who fall through the cracks in a lot of places. They're just "normal" enough to throw in with the masses, and just impaired enough to be seriously harmed by that.
A learning disability is not mental retardation. Erin isn't stupid, even though she tries to convince us she is when we tell her to do her chores. (She literally pretends she doesn't understand. It's really annoying.) It is not surprising that she is the top student in her grade in math, and among the top three in her grade in science, but flunks every spelling test by a landslide, and reads a year below grade level. She isn't stupid. She is learning disabled. The telltale sign of learning disabilities is an academic history like Erin's. "Wow, this kid rocks at math, but can't read whatsoever." THAT is a learning disability. It's not the same as a low IQ. Erin's IQ is, in fact, very average. She is not a genius by any stretch of the imagination, but she is nobody's idiot either. Her abilities to learn are unevenly distributed, that's all.
Auditory and visual processing disorders have nothing to do with the ability to see and hear. I can't even tell you how many times some well meaning friend has told me, when I am frustrated to the point of ripping my hair out (usually this coincides with spelling homework), "Well, why doesn't she have glasses and hearing aids? You know, Tricare will cover it since she has these diagnosed conditions, and then you won't have these problems anymore." I walk a thin line between laughing and screaming when people say that. She isn't blind or deaf. Her actual senses are fine. It's her brain that's the issue. She sees and hears everything you and I see and hear. She just doesn't process that information very well when it comes to language. The only help for her is a special ed teacher, and she has one of those, thank goodness.
Finally, it isn't sad. It just is what it is. Understand that we have to work a little harder for any amount of progress that she makes, but this is no tragedy. She's not going to die of this thing, and in most ways she's a very typical 8-year-old girl. She lives to dance, has a mild obsession with all things Hello Kitty, loves Justin Bieber, and gets into drama with her friends multiple times a week. In most ways, my kid is just like yours, and when she grows up, you probably would never know she has learning disabilities unless she tells you. Her future is bright, and like most kids with learning disabilities, the prognosis is excellent.
Understand first that my child is the canary in the academic coal mine. She can't just walk into any school and succeed. She's not SO impaired that they'll put her in a special class, but she's impaired enough that she can't succeed without special help. She will always be mainstream with her peers, but she will probably always need a tutor, and will likely need help from a special ed teacher on a part time basis for years to come. She also needs a speech therapist for now. You can understand what she says, and she's actually only about a year behind in her speech, but speech therapy helps her to progress in other areas since her speech delay and her processing disorders are related. A school that does not offer her the perfect balance of inclusion with her peers, and help she needs, is a disaster for her. Since she's a little girl, this is even more amplified. Often, boys with learning disabilities get rambunctious and destructive since they're bored in regular classes where they don't understand. They get help because the teacher notices their disruption. Girls like Erin, on the other hand, tend to just hang back and be quiet. They're easy to brush off and just not do anything for. This is what happened to Erin in public school. The school your child excelled in may quite well be a disaster for mine. I am not exaggerating when I say how horrid Ysleta ISD was to us, or how any parent of a child with learning disabilities should be skeptical of them. Yes, your gifted or dead average child did fine. Yes, your extremely autistic child got help. It's the ones like my kid who fall through the cracks in a lot of places. They're just "normal" enough to throw in with the masses, and just impaired enough to be seriously harmed by that.
A learning disability is not mental retardation. Erin isn't stupid, even though she tries to convince us she is when we tell her to do her chores. (She literally pretends she doesn't understand. It's really annoying.) It is not surprising that she is the top student in her grade in math, and among the top three in her grade in science, but flunks every spelling test by a landslide, and reads a year below grade level. She isn't stupid. She is learning disabled. The telltale sign of learning disabilities is an academic history like Erin's. "Wow, this kid rocks at math, but can't read whatsoever." THAT is a learning disability. It's not the same as a low IQ. Erin's IQ is, in fact, very average. She is not a genius by any stretch of the imagination, but she is nobody's idiot either. Her abilities to learn are unevenly distributed, that's all.
Auditory and visual processing disorders have nothing to do with the ability to see and hear. I can't even tell you how many times some well meaning friend has told me, when I am frustrated to the point of ripping my hair out (usually this coincides with spelling homework), "Well, why doesn't she have glasses and hearing aids? You know, Tricare will cover it since she has these diagnosed conditions, and then you won't have these problems anymore." I walk a thin line between laughing and screaming when people say that. She isn't blind or deaf. Her actual senses are fine. It's her brain that's the issue. She sees and hears everything you and I see and hear. She just doesn't process that information very well when it comes to language. The only help for her is a special ed teacher, and she has one of those, thank goodness.
Finally, it isn't sad. It just is what it is. Understand that we have to work a little harder for any amount of progress that she makes, but this is no tragedy. She's not going to die of this thing, and in most ways she's a very typical 8-year-old girl. She lives to dance, has a mild obsession with all things Hello Kitty, loves Justin Bieber, and gets into drama with her friends multiple times a week. In most ways, my kid is just like yours, and when she grows up, you probably would never know she has learning disabilities unless she tells you. Her future is bright, and like most kids with learning disabilities, the prognosis is excellent.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Advocating for the best is not an attack.
I saw a post on a favorite blog of mine, "The Mom: Informed" about how advocacy, or even activism, is not a personal attack. I loved it. If my internet weren't so crappy right now, I'd link it, because it really is that good. It reminded me so much of my day to day life.
When our kids are little, it's the land of many decisions. Literally, the moment you find out you're pregnant, you have to choose what type of care you want. Do you want an obstetrician, a nurse midwife, or a direct-entry midwife? Once you choose your care provider, if you chose a nurse-midwife, you have to figure out if you want a hospital birth or a birth center birth. If you chose a direct-entry midwife, you have to figure out if you want her to assist you in a birth center (if she has a birth center, as mine did) or at home. As you progress throughout the pregnancy, there are so many more questions. Do you want ultrasounds? Do the risks outweigh the benefits for you, or the other way around? Do you want prenatal testing of any sort?
Then you plan for the baby's arrival. You figure out what kind of birth you feel most confident with. What interventions are ok, and what ones are absolute deal breakers? Will you have pain medication, or is it mind over matter for you? Under what circumstances would you accept a transfer to hospital, if you're not birthing there already? Are you going to breastfeed or formula feed? Do you want the baby to get a Vitamin K shot? What about eye ointment? If it's a boy, will you circumcise him? Then there's the matter of naming! You need something that sounds equally good on the playground and in the board room.
After the baby is born, the decisions only keep piling on. Will cracked nipples make you waver on your steadfast promise to breastfeed? Will the diaper laundry pile up so much you reach for the Huggies that well meaning friends and relatives gave you even though you assured them you would only ever use cloth? Will months of no sleep tempt you to let the baby "cry it out"? Do you believe in schedule feeding, or do you keep it on demand?
The constant decision making really ends after the first few years. After that, you've pretty much just got to decide what school you want to send Jr to, and what's acceptable to pack in a lunch. By Kindergarten, nobody cares if you breastfed or not, and the only time your vaccination schedule even comes up in conversation is when the smiley fake-sweet school nurse informs you that Little Susie is "missing" some shots. (Kiss my exemption form, needle pusher!) That heroic homebirth you made happen against the odds? Your record breaking milk supply? The fact that you kept her rear-facing until the age of 3? None of it will mean a hill of beans by the time your kid learns to read. Time goes on, and focus shifts. (That's not to say that stuff isn't important. It is. It's just, by the time you reach school age, it's pretty clear that what's done is done.)
However, parents who are just in the beginning stages of their parenting journey don't know this yet. They only see the here and now. They're confused, pretty sure they're doing it wrong in one way or another, and having to make decisions they never even knew existed until now, and with relatively little help in many cases. I understand. I was SINGLE when I went through this the first time! I was also really young, and I knew NOTHING about most any of this stuff. I was confused. I know how it feels to be in the middle of that, where you're just doing the best you can, and it seems like the world is against you a lot of days. I'll never forget when I ran into my (royal bitch of an) 8th grade science teacher in the mall when Erin was about 5 months old. I was sitting on a bench, feeding her a bottle (See, I flunked at breastfeeding once upon a time, too.) and this woman literally gave me the third degree for bottle feeding. I know what it's like to feel judged even when you're doing your best.
Even so, this is no reason to withhold facts. Knowledge isn't worth a thing if we sit on it and keep it for ourselves. Advocating for best practice is always a good idea, because that's how change happens. You know, these days, every baby has a carseat. That wasn't the case a generation ago. People got the word out that carseats are the way to go, and change happened. Even laws changed to reflect that it's the right thing to do to use carseats. The same goes for a lot of other stuff. A generation ago, breastfeeding rates were at an all time low. They're still not very good, but they're coming up, because people are getting the word out that human milk is the appropriate food for human babies. Circumcision rates are falling below 50% throughout much of the country, Medicaid has stopped paying for it in 16 states, and a lot of private insurances have stopped covering it. This is because people have gotten the word out that it's a really bad idea. Change happens because people tell each other about best practice, new studies, and how things are done around the world.
Advocacy for best practice is not a personal attack, though, and as hard as it is for those in the throes of new parenthood to do, they REALLY need to stop taking things so personally when they were intended generally. If I say, for example, "Circumcision removes 20,000 nerve endings, and 500 babies worldwide die of complications from circumcision every year." that does not translate, "You circumcised your son, and for that, you are a horrible monster." It is hopefully a bid to convince you to research and maybe keep the next one whole. If I say, "Breastmilk is the appropriate food for human babies, and has many health advantages compared to formula." or "I notice a major difference in my breastfed baby compared to my formula babies." that does NOT translate, "You are sentencing your child to a life of shit for feeding them formula. You are a horrible parent." STOP taking things so personally. Talking about what is best is not condemnation of whatever it is you are doing, as it pertains to you. There will be some practices that we all do that are not the best. I'm eating a cookie right now, in fact, and I could probably find about 1000 studies that say I really shouldn't eat a cookie. I'm still eating it, though, and that's ok. I don't take those studies personally, however, I do acknowledge them by sticking to ONE cookie instead of eating ten like I'd like to right now.
I know everything I know because somebody was unafraid to tell me. I first researched circumcision when I was pregnant with Erin. I had just assumed, like many people, that it's just what was done with baby boys, and that was that. Then one day, my aunt asked me if I planned on circumcising the baby if it was a boy. I said I didn't really know anything on the subject, and she told me to research it very thoroughly, because it is not at all necessary to do it. I was interested, and read up on it a lot. I quickly came to the conclusion that it was not only unnecessary, but barbaric and cruel, and that no baby of mine would ever go through that. If she hadn't spoken up, for fear of my reaction, I would still know nothing on the subject. Similarly, my resolve to breastfeed is strong because of the facts I have learned when people gave me studies and news articles to read, or brought this topic up in conversation. On vaccines, it's the same. I had no idea it was an option to give only some, until someone told me it was, and I used that as a jumping off point for my own research on the subject. It applies also to carseats. I thought forward facing at a year and 20 pounds was the thing to do until Orren was about 6 months old, and I saw a crash test video that an activist friend sent me. Orren is still rear-facing, and 500% safer in the car, because that person was unafraid to tell me the truth.
Everyone who advocates for things knows that not everyone will be receptive to the message. That's a given, and we all accept that some will always do things their own way, even if every study in the world finds that way to be less than the best. It is what it is. The important thing, though, is to realize that when people are getting facts out, it's not an attack. It's the spread of knowledge, and that is an inherently good thing. We weren't born knowing all this stuff. Somebody told us something that sparked our interest, and we did research to learn more. That's what we're trying to do, spark your interest, so that you do your own research and become knowledgeable on topics relevant to parents or parents to be. I suppose my view of it is slightly more objective because I have one foot in the early stages of parenting (with Orren and Chai), and one foot in the school age world where nobody cares about any of this stuff, because what's done is done. It doesn't seem so personal to me because I see how temporary it is that this stuff is even relevant to discuss. Just take my word for its temporary nature, though, and realize that when someone tells you to tighten up your baby's carseat straps, or tells you where to find breastfeeding support after your baby's born, or asks you if you will keep your newborn son whole, this is not an attack on you. It is advocacy for best practice, and being knowledgeable is generally considered a good thing.
Get some.... knowledge.
Look up these great sites for more information on relevant topics:
www.cirp.org (Circumcision)
www.thewholenetwork.org (Circumcision)
www.kellymom.com (Breastfeeding)
www.birthwithoutfear.blogspot.com (Birth)
www.mamabirth.blogspot.com (Birth)
www.drmomma.org (all of the above, plus vaccines, positive discipline, and more)
www.mothering.com (all of the above, plus vaccines, positive discipline, and more)
www.car-seat.org (Carseat safety)
When our kids are little, it's the land of many decisions. Literally, the moment you find out you're pregnant, you have to choose what type of care you want. Do you want an obstetrician, a nurse midwife, or a direct-entry midwife? Once you choose your care provider, if you chose a nurse-midwife, you have to figure out if you want a hospital birth or a birth center birth. If you chose a direct-entry midwife, you have to figure out if you want her to assist you in a birth center (if she has a birth center, as mine did) or at home. As you progress throughout the pregnancy, there are so many more questions. Do you want ultrasounds? Do the risks outweigh the benefits for you, or the other way around? Do you want prenatal testing of any sort?
Then you plan for the baby's arrival. You figure out what kind of birth you feel most confident with. What interventions are ok, and what ones are absolute deal breakers? Will you have pain medication, or is it mind over matter for you? Under what circumstances would you accept a transfer to hospital, if you're not birthing there already? Are you going to breastfeed or formula feed? Do you want the baby to get a Vitamin K shot? What about eye ointment? If it's a boy, will you circumcise him? Then there's the matter of naming! You need something that sounds equally good on the playground and in the board room.
After the baby is born, the decisions only keep piling on. Will cracked nipples make you waver on your steadfast promise to breastfeed? Will the diaper laundry pile up so much you reach for the Huggies that well meaning friends and relatives gave you even though you assured them you would only ever use cloth? Will months of no sleep tempt you to let the baby "cry it out"? Do you believe in schedule feeding, or do you keep it on demand?
The constant decision making really ends after the first few years. After that, you've pretty much just got to decide what school you want to send Jr to, and what's acceptable to pack in a lunch. By Kindergarten, nobody cares if you breastfed or not, and the only time your vaccination schedule even comes up in conversation is when the smiley fake-sweet school nurse informs you that Little Susie is "missing" some shots. (Kiss my exemption form, needle pusher!) That heroic homebirth you made happen against the odds? Your record breaking milk supply? The fact that you kept her rear-facing until the age of 3? None of it will mean a hill of beans by the time your kid learns to read. Time goes on, and focus shifts. (That's not to say that stuff isn't important. It is. It's just, by the time you reach school age, it's pretty clear that what's done is done.)
However, parents who are just in the beginning stages of their parenting journey don't know this yet. They only see the here and now. They're confused, pretty sure they're doing it wrong in one way or another, and having to make decisions they never even knew existed until now, and with relatively little help in many cases. I understand. I was SINGLE when I went through this the first time! I was also really young, and I knew NOTHING about most any of this stuff. I was confused. I know how it feels to be in the middle of that, where you're just doing the best you can, and it seems like the world is against you a lot of days. I'll never forget when I ran into my (royal bitch of an) 8th grade science teacher in the mall when Erin was about 5 months old. I was sitting on a bench, feeding her a bottle (See, I flunked at breastfeeding once upon a time, too.) and this woman literally gave me the third degree for bottle feeding. I know what it's like to feel judged even when you're doing your best.
Even so, this is no reason to withhold facts. Knowledge isn't worth a thing if we sit on it and keep it for ourselves. Advocating for best practice is always a good idea, because that's how change happens. You know, these days, every baby has a carseat. That wasn't the case a generation ago. People got the word out that carseats are the way to go, and change happened. Even laws changed to reflect that it's the right thing to do to use carseats. The same goes for a lot of other stuff. A generation ago, breastfeeding rates were at an all time low. They're still not very good, but they're coming up, because people are getting the word out that human milk is the appropriate food for human babies. Circumcision rates are falling below 50% throughout much of the country, Medicaid has stopped paying for it in 16 states, and a lot of private insurances have stopped covering it. This is because people have gotten the word out that it's a really bad idea. Change happens because people tell each other about best practice, new studies, and how things are done around the world.
Advocacy for best practice is not a personal attack, though, and as hard as it is for those in the throes of new parenthood to do, they REALLY need to stop taking things so personally when they were intended generally. If I say, for example, "Circumcision removes 20,000 nerve endings, and 500 babies worldwide die of complications from circumcision every year." that does not translate, "You circumcised your son, and for that, you are a horrible monster." It is hopefully a bid to convince you to research and maybe keep the next one whole. If I say, "Breastmilk is the appropriate food for human babies, and has many health advantages compared to formula." or "I notice a major difference in my breastfed baby compared to my formula babies." that does NOT translate, "You are sentencing your child to a life of shit for feeding them formula. You are a horrible parent." STOP taking things so personally. Talking about what is best is not condemnation of whatever it is you are doing, as it pertains to you. There will be some practices that we all do that are not the best. I'm eating a cookie right now, in fact, and I could probably find about 1000 studies that say I really shouldn't eat a cookie. I'm still eating it, though, and that's ok. I don't take those studies personally, however, I do acknowledge them by sticking to ONE cookie instead of eating ten like I'd like to right now.
I know everything I know because somebody was unafraid to tell me. I first researched circumcision when I was pregnant with Erin. I had just assumed, like many people, that it's just what was done with baby boys, and that was that. Then one day, my aunt asked me if I planned on circumcising the baby if it was a boy. I said I didn't really know anything on the subject, and she told me to research it very thoroughly, because it is not at all necessary to do it. I was interested, and read up on it a lot. I quickly came to the conclusion that it was not only unnecessary, but barbaric and cruel, and that no baby of mine would ever go through that. If she hadn't spoken up, for fear of my reaction, I would still know nothing on the subject. Similarly, my resolve to breastfeed is strong because of the facts I have learned when people gave me studies and news articles to read, or brought this topic up in conversation. On vaccines, it's the same. I had no idea it was an option to give only some, until someone told me it was, and I used that as a jumping off point for my own research on the subject. It applies also to carseats. I thought forward facing at a year and 20 pounds was the thing to do until Orren was about 6 months old, and I saw a crash test video that an activist friend sent me. Orren is still rear-facing, and 500% safer in the car, because that person was unafraid to tell me the truth.
Everyone who advocates for things knows that not everyone will be receptive to the message. That's a given, and we all accept that some will always do things their own way, even if every study in the world finds that way to be less than the best. It is what it is. The important thing, though, is to realize that when people are getting facts out, it's not an attack. It's the spread of knowledge, and that is an inherently good thing. We weren't born knowing all this stuff. Somebody told us something that sparked our interest, and we did research to learn more. That's what we're trying to do, spark your interest, so that you do your own research and become knowledgeable on topics relevant to parents or parents to be. I suppose my view of it is slightly more objective because I have one foot in the early stages of parenting (with Orren and Chai), and one foot in the school age world where nobody cares about any of this stuff, because what's done is done. It doesn't seem so personal to me because I see how temporary it is that this stuff is even relevant to discuss. Just take my word for its temporary nature, though, and realize that when someone tells you to tighten up your baby's carseat straps, or tells you where to find breastfeeding support after your baby's born, or asks you if you will keep your newborn son whole, this is not an attack on you. It is advocacy for best practice, and being knowledgeable is generally considered a good thing.
Get some.... knowledge.
Look up these great sites for more information on relevant topics:
www.cirp.org (Circumcision)
www.thewholenetwork.org (Circumcision)
www.kellymom.com (Breastfeeding)
www.birthwithoutfear.blogspot.com (Birth)
www.mamabirth.blogspot.com (Birth)
www.drmomma.org (all of the above, plus vaccines, positive discipline, and more)
www.mothering.com (all of the above, plus vaccines, positive discipline, and more)
www.car-seat.org (Carseat safety)
Saturday, September 3, 2011
We do uncommon things.
Yesterday, I went to WIC to change my food package from the one we were getting, which gave us a few cans of formula since we were supplementing with it, to the one that gives us just a bunch of regular food since I am now exclusively breastfeeding, no supplementing anymore.
When I went to the front desk, and told them that I wanted to change my package (and I did tell them from what to what I wanted to change it), they did what is standard procedure, and sent my file back to the lactation consultant. She called me back to her office maybe five minutes later, and asked me why I wanted to change my package. I guess the front desk didn't note what I wanted to change it to. I could tell she was in that mode of thinkin "what will make this one keep nursing?". So explained to her that we had been supplementing a little formula, but that I had gotten my milk supply up to the point that we don't need to supplement anymore. She was surprised to hear that! She said, "Oh, so you want to change to the exclusively breastfeeding food package, then? OK, that's wonderful! It's uncommon to see this. It's usually the other way around, people wanting to switch to formula." I laughed. I had not thought of how uncommon it is to go from supplementing to not supplementing. Usually, supplementing is the kiss of death for breastfeeding, but we fought through the issues it gave us, and we're doing great now. It is rare, though.
After that, I just had to go back out to the lobby to wait to be called so they could load my new food package onto my card. My file had to get passed around to a few other people to sign off on the change of food package. As each one got it, they all looked out into the lobby at me and the boys (by then, Chai was nursing) and remarked on what a rare case we are. It was pretty funny!
But it got me thinking. First of all, it's great that they make you see the lactation consultant before switching food packages. That way, if you are one of the people who wants to quit breastfeeding, and there's something that would make you keep it up, then they can do that for you, and you can keep nursing. It's not like in Florida in 2003, when I quit breastfeeding Erin, and just walked into the WIC office, told them what I needed, and was issued formula vouchers, no questions asked. It was really easy to quit breastfeeding then. It is more difficult to quit when you have to actually talk about your reasons for wanting to, before you will be given formula. This works great for everybody involved. Of course breastfeeding is best for the baby, and also healthy for the mom (breastfeed for two years, reduce your risk of cancer by 50%!), but when you consider that the vast majority of formula in this country is bought by WIC, our entire society has a vested interest in supporting breastfeeding.
An exclusively formula-feeding mom gets issued 11 cans of powdered formula a month, or so I'm told by people I know who formula feed. At approximately $13 a can, this adds up to $141 every month (That is for the cheapest formula, too, not the stuff for babies with reflux or anything. That stuff costs a lot more.) That, of course, doesn't count the other stuff that she gets in her food package for herself, like milk, cheese, eggs, a small fruit and veggie allowance, and maybe a little juice, and cereal. That stuff probably adds up to about another $30-something, so a formula-feeding mom gets about $175 worth of stuff from WIC every month. An exclusively breastfeeding mom gets more foods than the formula feeding mom, but those foods don't even come close to the cost of formula! We get (and this includes the stuff we get for Orren) about $100 worth of food from WIC every month. If we only counted the stuff we get for me, on the basis that I am exclusively breastfeeding Chai, it would figure up to be about $60 a month. That is more than $100 LESS every month than the formula feeding mom is getting. Now I'm not complaining about this. I'm very thankful for all the stuff we get. It feeds our family! The point is, society has a vested interest in the breastfeeding success of women at large. Can you imagine how much money would be saved every month if breastfeeding rates rose to what they are in other countries, like Denmark with its 97% breastfeeding success rate? If one million more women breastfed, it would save the American tax payers $100 million a month, $1.2 billion a year. Those are big numbers! I think Texas is on the right track with the way they manage the changing of food packages for families who receive WIC. Hopefully our breastfeeding success rate continues to climb, and then it won't be so rare to see a mom who had to supplement for a little while, return to exclusively breastfeeding a couple months later. Our society needs this not to be a rare case.
When I went to the front desk, and told them that I wanted to change my package (and I did tell them from what to what I wanted to change it), they did what is standard procedure, and sent my file back to the lactation consultant. She called me back to her office maybe five minutes later, and asked me why I wanted to change my package. I guess the front desk didn't note what I wanted to change it to. I could tell she was in that mode of thinkin "what will make this one keep nursing?". So explained to her that we had been supplementing a little formula, but that I had gotten my milk supply up to the point that we don't need to supplement anymore. She was surprised to hear that! She said, "Oh, so you want to change to the exclusively breastfeeding food package, then? OK, that's wonderful! It's uncommon to see this. It's usually the other way around, people wanting to switch to formula." I laughed. I had not thought of how uncommon it is to go from supplementing to not supplementing. Usually, supplementing is the kiss of death for breastfeeding, but we fought through the issues it gave us, and we're doing great now. It is rare, though.
After that, I just had to go back out to the lobby to wait to be called so they could load my new food package onto my card. My file had to get passed around to a few other people to sign off on the change of food package. As each one got it, they all looked out into the lobby at me and the boys (by then, Chai was nursing) and remarked on what a rare case we are. It was pretty funny!
But it got me thinking. First of all, it's great that they make you see the lactation consultant before switching food packages. That way, if you are one of the people who wants to quit breastfeeding, and there's something that would make you keep it up, then they can do that for you, and you can keep nursing. It's not like in Florida in 2003, when I quit breastfeeding Erin, and just walked into the WIC office, told them what I needed, and was issued formula vouchers, no questions asked. It was really easy to quit breastfeeding then. It is more difficult to quit when you have to actually talk about your reasons for wanting to, before you will be given formula. This works great for everybody involved. Of course breastfeeding is best for the baby, and also healthy for the mom (breastfeed for two years, reduce your risk of cancer by 50%!), but when you consider that the vast majority of formula in this country is bought by WIC, our entire society has a vested interest in supporting breastfeeding.
An exclusively formula-feeding mom gets issued 11 cans of powdered formula a month, or so I'm told by people I know who formula feed. At approximately $13 a can, this adds up to $141 every month (That is for the cheapest formula, too, not the stuff for babies with reflux or anything. That stuff costs a lot more.) That, of course, doesn't count the other stuff that she gets in her food package for herself, like milk, cheese, eggs, a small fruit and veggie allowance, and maybe a little juice, and cereal. That stuff probably adds up to about another $30-something, so a formula-feeding mom gets about $175 worth of stuff from WIC every month. An exclusively breastfeeding mom gets more foods than the formula feeding mom, but those foods don't even come close to the cost of formula! We get (and this includes the stuff we get for Orren) about $100 worth of food from WIC every month. If we only counted the stuff we get for me, on the basis that I am exclusively breastfeeding Chai, it would figure up to be about $60 a month. That is more than $100 LESS every month than the formula feeding mom is getting. Now I'm not complaining about this. I'm very thankful for all the stuff we get. It feeds our family! The point is, society has a vested interest in the breastfeeding success of women at large. Can you imagine how much money would be saved every month if breastfeeding rates rose to what they are in other countries, like Denmark with its 97% breastfeeding success rate? If one million more women breastfed, it would save the American tax payers $100 million a month, $1.2 billion a year. Those are big numbers! I think Texas is on the right track with the way they manage the changing of food packages for families who receive WIC. Hopefully our breastfeeding success rate continues to climb, and then it won't be so rare to see a mom who had to supplement for a little while, return to exclusively breastfeeding a couple months later. Our society needs this not to be a rare case.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Yup.
I deleted the post I made before this. I'm just superstitious, I guess. If you didn't see it, don't worry. We'll have real details soon, and by then, I can share more with confidence. If you did see it, shhhhhh! Yes, I know I'm being vague, but I'll just say that the gist of the deleted post was that there MAY (it isn't a done deal yet) be big changes on the horizon, well, in the immediate future, for our family. We really hope that the new opportunity comes through, and we know that if anyone can do it, Thak can, so we just have faith in him, and wait. This time next week, we'll know yes or no for sure, and can take our next step accordingly.
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