It's only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on earth -- and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up -- that we will begin to live each day to the fullest, as if it was the only one we had.
Welcome to The Breastfeeding Cafe Carnival!
This post was written as part of The Breastfeeding Cafe's Carnival. For more info on the Breastfeeding Cafe, go to www.breastfeedingcafe.wordpress.com. For more info on the Carnival or if you want to participate, contact Claire at clindstrom2 {at} gmail {dot} com. Today's post is about baby friendly communities. Please read the other blogs in today's carnival listed below and check back for more posts July 18th through the 31st!
"Don't be afraid your life will end; be afraid it will never begin."
I am very pleased to be able to offer you this wonderful wrap form Sarah's Herbal Pillows and More. Winners can choose the color (heather grey, chocolate brown, chili red or true blue), the wrap is made out of a very breatheable poly/cotton knit interlock.
This post was written as a submission for the World Breastfeeding Week Carnival, hosted by The Leaky Boob. The theme is "Perspectives: Breastfeeding from every Angle." Submissions are due by July 30th.
I am really, really blessed to be able to live in a country where you cannot drive a mile without seeing a woman nurse her child. Just like that, by the side of the road, no worries, no hesitations. A country where, if a woman would leave her child to cry while he is strapped to her back, she would instantly be corrected by some bystander and told that she has to feed that child.
When I hear somebody sigh, "Life is hard," I am always tempted to ask, "Compared to what?"
What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?
The winner for the African Breastfeeding Statue, on occasion of surpassing 1000 likeronies on Facebook, as drawn with random.org, is:
comment number 36
Paige
vivalasquid
Paige will be notified by email.
Congratulations Paige!!!
The greatest mistake in the treatment of diseases is that there are physicians for the body and physicians for the soul, although the two cannot be separated.
If exposed to HPV, Gardasil actually increases your risk on precancerous lesions.
Change starts at home , the story of a farmgirl with a PhD, and the origin of the 'housewife' concept. A must-read!
Traditions surrounding the placenta and the umbilical cord in Asia.
A magnificent post on Joyfully Free talks about when parenting becomes a burden.
"(...) for a child to be spoiled wouldn't that mean at some point they were rotten? And if they were rotten wouldn't that mean at some point the scales began to tip from good to bad? In order for that tipping moment to emerge from a being that was pure unconditional love when it arrived one would have to argue it had something to due with the environment the unconditional love was being nurtured in."A circumcized dad explains why he didn't circumcize his son in "Just to be fair, I'm circumcized".
Written by Elizabeth Walker
This post was written for inclusion in the Pregnancy Loss Week Blog Carnival . Please join us at Fertility Flower for the week of August 23-27, 2010 where we will be featuring articles, posts and artwork about pregnancy loss.
A while back, Elizabeth shared her experience of miscarriage with us, here's what she writes about the aftermath. I would like to thank Elizabeth for putting her heart in words, and sharing her experience with us.
It's now been exactly a week. I've visited the OBGYN's office. That was really reassuring. The doctor commented on how fast my hormone levels were going back to a "normal" pre-pregnancy level. This meant I didn't need a D&C. I was relieved. She commented that there was absolutely nothing I could have done to have prevented me losing the baby.
I still have my moments. I've snapped at my poor husband more than once. I even got around to telling him that maybe he was at fault for using some glue that could cause birth defects. I know it isn't. I don't know why I said that...it just came out. I feel horrible.
Sometimes I feel fine. That makes me feel bad too though. I feel guilty for doing ok with it. I feel like I should be worse still. I have my reasons for having to move on. I HAVE to. I have 2 little girls that I have to be there for. I have to work. I don't have a choice right now. Sometimes I feel guilty for just wanting to be pregnant again! I've told my husband that I want twins next time to make up for this baby. I feel guilty about that too. The guilt is the killer for me. It comes and goes. She says NIP becomes easier with every child she has. She lives in Michigan.
My hormones are still trying to go back to normal. I think my body still thinks it's pregnant sometimes. The other day, my chest starting hurting. I don't understand why they'd start hurting now. I had a few hours the other night where I was dizzy for no reason. I have no idea why...I wasn't standing up and down fast; I was sitting, doing laundry. When I'd called my grandma, she suggested I might need to take some iron.
I'm thankful for my friends and family that are there for me during this. I'm thankful my body isn't giving me too many problems. I think to get through this I just have to be thankful for what I DO have. I'm still scared to try again, but I'm anxious to have another baby. I've held another baby in the last week. I miss that. I hate that I won't have that when I was scheduled to. I ache for the baby. Sometimes it's hard, sometimes it's easy.
Elizabeth has been married for seven years and has two beautiful little girls. She is an aspiring SAHM and a proud lactavist, and finds NIP easier with every child she has. She would like more children some day and lives in Michigan.
Hello all! I am back! Have you missed me? I hope you liked what I had prepared for you. I liked the guest posts a lot, so if you are a blogger and you have something up my league, don't hesitate to email me.
Who decided that feminism is all about competing with males, anyway? I can understand this ninety years ago when women could not vote or perform other fundamental tasks, but I prefer to call that the woman's liberation, not feminism. Feminism should be about embracing femininity.Wendy Priesnitz compares standard education to fast food.
(...)birth should take place where you feel most comfortable, and if that is in a hospital, the best thing to do is educate yourself about the choices and risks and related to common medical interventions.
Children have more need of models than of critics.
written by Dohiyi Mama
I perpetually hear my little girl crying when she's not. Isn't that weird? I'm pretty sure she's not right now, so I'm taking a trip down memory lane and writing about her beautiful entrance into the world. I feel the need to share this with the world, as no one ever really asked me about my labor, since no one in my family or family in law (except for my mother) has any inkling about natural labor and birth. This hurt my feelings badly, especially when my cousin in law came to visit, and my sister-in-law, who barely spoke to me about my birthing experience, nearly drowned her in questions. "You were induced? Who was your doctor? You had an episiotomy, right?" So, this is to some one who cares. I want some one to hear my story.
For the entire evening of February 17th, 2010, I was in labor. I didn't know it, but the contractions I was having were the real deal. It was my father-in-law's birthday, so I remember my husband calling me from work and begging me to go to the store and pick up things to make a cake. My reply? "HAHAHA. I'm not getting out of this tub, buddy. I sure hope when I'm really in labor you don't need me to make a stupid cake!"
I got absolutely no sleep that night, and therefore was exhausted for my 10 am appointment with my midwife. I was tempted to cancel, but was partly curious to know if I was dilated any at all.
So on the 18th, off we went. My checkup results were not good- ketones in my urine (from apparently not eating enough, even though I had eaten that morning before we left), high blood pressure, and gained eight pounds in a week (I was retaining fluid at this point in my ankles and legs). My midwife urged me to go home, eat a healthy meal and get some sleep. Right before we left, my husband reminded me to ask her to check me (this was the first time I'd had to 'drop my bottoms,' and I was nearly 39 weeks pregnant- just one of the things I loved about my midwife). I was indeed dilated 2-3 cm and 50% effaced. I started to get excited, but my midwife quietly reminded me that it still could be weeks before the action started. She encouraged me to go home and rest, since I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before, and "if I went into labor that night with no rest it could be bad." So we left, still excited.
We got home, and lo and behold, the stupid fight about the birthday cake commenced again. My husband was again begging me to make a cake, and I was vehemently refusing and insisting that I take a nap. We ended up having a huge yelling match about it in the kitchen, and I finally stomped to the bedroom and tried to sleep. It was about an hour before I got up after hearing various sounds of frustration coming from the kitchen. My husband had tried to make a cake himself... I felt bad for him, but this was truly hilarious. He had made two round layers. One had come out of the pan alright, but one had stuck badly. He tried to piece it back together, without cooling it at all, and then tried to cover it all up with cream cheese frosting. The frosting was melting, and had chunks of cream cheese sticking out where he hadn't mixed it properly... My husband was SO upset about it, as he was overtired too, so I tried to comfort him while hopping up and down since I had to pee so bad. Finally I said "wait just one second!" and ran to the bathroom. It was there I discovered my mucus plug. I screamed, half grossed out and half excited. My husband immediately called the midwife 20,000 times until she called back. She instructed me to go back to napping, and reminded me that it still could be days before it was time.
I reluctantly got back into bed, and naturally couldn't sleep. I gave my husband a list of things to do around the house just in case it was time, and tried to relax. Thirty minutes later, my water broke. I went to screaming again in excitement, and even managed to quote Juno when her water broke! "Baby! Either I just peed my pants, or THUNDERCATS ARE GOOOOO!" I went running for the tub, trying not to get the bed or floor wet. I was squealing "we're gonna have a baaaaby!" and my husband was saying, "I could be a dad tonight? I could be a dad before midnight?! But I didn't do anything on the list!"
I started waddling around getting stuff together while hubby called the midwife. While all this was going on, I never had a single contraction. I called my mother and said, "Mom, my water broke!" She said, "It's time! Come on over!"
I cannot describe to you how excited we were.
We got to my mom's around 6pm. I had my first contraction as we pulled up. It was easy, no problems there. I ate some toast with my mom, got on Facebook, and just chilled. Things started getting harder around 7:30. I remember falling to my knees, and staying on all fours and breathing through the pain. It was around this time when I made my final facebook update before disappearing from cyberspace for 9 hours.
My husband and mother prepared the bedroom. Plastic sheet, plastic on the floor, ect. They talked with me, and kept the mood light.
By the time my midwife arrived, I was in real pain. My mom had suggested I get in the tub, and that's where I was when my midwife walked in. I was laid back with my head on an inflatable pillow, ensconced in warm deliciousness. My midwife asked me "How are you doing, Christa?"
Now my midwife is the best in my area, and has been delivering babies before a licensing program for midwives ever existed. That being said, she has the sweetest, softest and most comforting voice I have ever heard. When she asked me that, I almost burst into tears and said something like, "It hurts."
Everything is kind of a blur after that. I got in and out of the tub many times. I always said I would NOT give birth naked, but after about the 5th time of getting out of the tub, I said the hell with clothes. We used a heating pad briefly, which helped a little with the pain, and put my husband to sleep next to me promptly. I remember, not long after my midwife arrived, asking my husband for my music, a CD titled Swimming with Dolphins. He was almost scared to tell me that he couldn't find it on his iPhone, and called his dad to get it and bring it.
By the time my father in law arrived, I was past the point where any music could help. I really, really wish I had had it though for those few moments where it could have helped. As soon as FIL got there, my husband disappeared into the kitchen. I could hear them talking and laughing noisily, and then heard a very loud voicemail blaring from a cellphone. My midwife looked distressed at this, and I nearly screamed to the hall for them to "freaking be quiet, I'm having a BABY!" My midwife quietly agreed with me, and my husband quickly returned.
As things got worse, I was trying every position I could think of. I know it sounds silly, but I kept thinking over and over again that there must be some position that I was missing that would relieve the pain. All fours helped the most. The tub helped too. It was so nice that I was almost falling asleep between contractions, but when they came roaring back, I was starting to get vocal... okay, I was yelling. A lot.
Simply having children does not make mothers.
I used to be the person who found breasfeeding an older child a bit awkward. I can't really say from what age I found it weird, because right now, this person that I was, well, she's like prehistoric history to me, and I can't quite figure out the way she thought.
I know that that person would have found breastfeeding a four year old rather quirky. Maybe even a two year old.
But hello, this is me, and I am still giving my two year old the natural milk she deserves.
I never considered I might one day be 'that woman'. I knew I was going to breastfeed any child I would carry in my womb for nine months, but never ever pondered the amount of time I would be nursing.
But then there she was. We set out to nurse for a year, because that as the healthy thing to do, and I had the time for it, so why not. One year became two and two became 'until she self-weans'.
She started out a newborn just as any other nursling. We took it one day at a time. And looky here, she walks and talks and eats solids and yet, she still gets her buhbuh when she asks, although this is more infrequent than before.
How can we think that from one day to the next they get 'too big' for it? Now, it seems such an awkward thought not to nurse until they self-wean. How can you decide when to quit?
The only reason why we feel a nursing toddler is awkward is because we're not confronted with it enough. So nursing momma's: get out of the closet! Let's create some awareness while we're at it!
Image:
Too often we give children answers to remember rather than problems to solve.
Written by Brooklyn
When I was pregnant with my first baby in 2003, my husband and I attended a birth class. It was a small class, consisting of just my husband and I and one other couple. The other couple was due two months before me and they were planning a home birth. I was floored! What? Excuse me? People actually have a choice to give birth at home? I thought a home birth was something that happened *on accident* when labor begins and goes sooooooo fast. You know – like they portray it on TV. My husband and I had done research and settled on a birthing center … attached to a hospital. We have learned since that first birth class that being active in choosing how we want to participate in birth makes birthing a better experience.
If there is anything that we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves.
