When I Used a Pencil

Before I had a blog, before I knew what a blog was, I had a no. 2 pencil that must be sharpened and I had a hardback journal with pages that smelled of ink and libraries. I kept a journal all through middle school, high school and college. Every now and then I'd throw out all my old journals. I don't know why. Maybe I felt that I was only writing for myself, and so there was no need to keep chronicles of adventures I'd never have again, people I'd never see again, places and events I wanted to forget. I wish I had those journals now though.

One month after I graduated college I quit writing. Writers are "oppressed", aren't they? I was a married college graduate whose job it was to care for my husband and home. Gone was the teen angst, the girlish catty drama, college adventures and dreams of what "might be." What "might be" had become what "was" and there was nothing to write about.

When I first became pregnant I felt the desire to write again. One creative process begetting another, maybe? My first pregnancy journal was difficult to write. It began with such promise and so much excitement. I was pregnant! I was going to be a mother! My happiness quickly turned to horror as hyperemesis descended upon me. There would be days, then weeks between entries. The pages were full of morose musings and fogged with depression. The neat handwriting turned into barely-visible scrawls because I was too weak to hold the pencil properly. There were little dots of green and yellow vomit stains. With everything I lived through in that pregnancy--the hyperemesis, the "homelessness", the hurricane, the gallbladder attacks, the cesarean--I think it could rightly be subtitled "the little book of horrors".

Most of what I've written on this blog was written with some time and space (and sweet, precious children) between my writing and the actual events. I have my journals though, I thought I'd share a little from them, starting with my first pregnancy.

Is it...?

Is it a stomach illness or. . . ? Not sure. Deep breaths.

Something Right

Since Anna's birth 15 months ago, I've questioned my decision to allow Sarah to be present at the birth. She asked to. She begged to. She adored her sister from the moment she found out Anna was a girl. What a priceless bonding experience, I thought, for an older sister to attend her baby sister's birth, to "be there" for her from the moment of her birth.

Sarah is very mature for her age. At age three, strangers thought she was in kindergarten. She understands ideas and concepts with an adult-like clarity. We've never had "the birds and the bees talk" with her and yet she understands, somehow, that the making and birthing of a baby is a collaboration between God and (universal) Man. In preparation for Anna's birth, Sarah and I watched dozens of birth videos on youtube. She was fascinated, not frightened. She would tell anyone who'd listen, "my mommy is going to push my baby sister out of her buh-gina!"

So we were all set, right?

All the birth videos we watched were of women giving birth either sitting up or semi-reclined. You could clearly see the women's vaginas and the baby's heads as they were born. When Anna was born, I was on my hands and knees. Sarah could see the baby's head as it first emerged, and instead of seeing it come from my vagina, it looked as if, in Sarah's words, I was "pooping her out". Sarah didn't like that.

She wasn't as excited about Anna's birth as I'd hoped she'd be. It wasn't the huge sister bonding experience I expected. She didn't seem to be in awe of the birthing process. I was so disappointed! Had I made the right decision to allow her to attend Anna's birth? Had she been so traumatized by the birth that she wouldn't have a respect and love for birth as an adult?

Last week my disappointment turned to joy after a conversation Sarah and I had.

Sarah: Mommy, I think I want to be a doctor when I grow up.
Me: That sounds like fun. Do you think you'll be a mommy, too?
Sarah: Well...not really. I think just a doctor.
Me: Why don't you want to be a mommy?
Sarah: Because having the baby is really hard work!

When she talked about birth as "really hard work" my heart soared! She didn't view birth as painful, or gross, or scary or unimportant. It was just hard work. I asked her if learning to ride her bike, learning to read and write, and learning to crack eggs were hard work and she agreed they were. So I asked, "but now that you have those skills, aren't you glad you went through the hard work?" She said she was.

It's been one of my goals to raise my children with a respect for the normal birth process. I think I'm doing something right.

Bad Breastfeeding Advice?

Anna is 15 months old today and still in love with nursing. She shows no signs of wanting to stop nursing and even nurses a few times at night. She even nursed through five weeks of Pertussis this summer. I'm happy with that!

Two nights ago she had a temperature of 103.4 and experienced a febrile seizure. I've been a mother for nearly six years now but that was my first time dealing with one of those. It was terrifying. It was also very physically painful for me because she was nursing when the seizure came on, and she clamped her four sharp teeth right down on my nipple and I wasn't able to pry them off! I honestly thought my nipple was going to be bitten right off.

Normally we don't take the children to a doctor for a fever, but since she had a febrile seizure I thought it warranted a quick trip. The doctor didn't seem to think anything of the seizure, but was horrified that I hadn't taken her to the emergency room for such a high fever. Our older two always get very high temperatures when they're ill and we've never had any problems with that.

Her problem was that she had a double inner-ear infection. The doctor asked if she had diarrhea also and I said yes. She told me that I needed to quit nursing her for 24 hours because "dairy is not good for diarrhea". I didn't feel like arguing with her, so I just smiled and nodded. When I got home I looked it up (as I always do when a doctor gives me breastfeeding advice) and found this from KellyMom.com

The current recommendations when vomiting or diarrhea is present in the breastfed child are as follows:

•Breastfeeding should be the FIRST choice if your child can take anything by mouth. Because of the ease and rapidity with which breastmilk is digested, even if your child vomits or stools shortly after nursing, he will still have retained some of the nutrients. Other foods that are often suggested (such as Pedialyte, sports drinks, gelatins and sodas) offer little nutritional value and none of the antibodies that human milk contains.


•When your breastfed child is ill you'll want to offer more frequent feedings -- this can limit the volume taken in at one time and helps to comfort and soothe a sick child. If your child is vomiting often and not keeping the milk down for long, it may be helpful to breastfeed frequently but limit the length of each nursing session (so your child takes in less milk at once). Another option is for Mom to express some milk before breastfeeding so that the milk flow is slower. RARELY does the baby who is allowed to breastfeed at will during a vomiting or diarrhea illness become dehydrated.

So, I didn't feel the need to quit nursing her. It was so strange, because the doctor seemed to be very supportive of breastfeeding, even past infancy. She treated my nursing a 15 month old as completely normal. She was surprised that Anna was eating solid food, though. I told her she ate nearly everything we did and the doctor said, "oh? so you puree it then?" I said that I just cut everything into small bites and she said, "so she has chewing teeth?" I said no, just the four in front, but she could chew fine with her gums. The doctor didn't seem to understand that. She's from India, so I'm wondering what Indian mothers feed their toddlers?