How can a circle of friends who were so alike growing up or before having children, totally turn against one another once they become Mothers? I've been seeing this so much lately. I've said it before. We all do what we feel is best for our children, even if others don't agree. Why do we bash one another for our difference instead of embrace them? Why have we all suddenly become strangers?
I have friends from all walks of life and areas. From down the hall, to down the street, to across the country and even oceans apart. Some formula feed. Some breastfeed. Some do both. Some aren't Mothers yet. Some vaccinate. Some don't. Some cloth diaper. Some use disposables. Some use both. Some have babies in hospitals. Some have babies at home. Some have a baby in their car on the way to the hospital. What the point here is, we are all different. No matter what we do. Instead of losing friendships because you don't agree with something the other person does, embrace their decision and educate yourself on their point of view. It makes for an interesting discussion if you can be an adult and keep a level head. Some women are very passionate about their beliefs and that is fine...But don't sit here and try to cut down someone you call a friend because they want to do things differently than you would.
So here is something that pisses me off: Hospital vs. Home birth Debates. Just because one woman died while giving birth at home, does not automatically make home birthing deadly. In fact, the woman that died (this was in Melbourne, Australia by the way) actually died IN THE HOSPITAL the DAY AFTER giving birth. She went into cardiac arrest and despite efforts to save her, she lost her life. Here's the link:
Now, the sad reality of it all is that women die giving birth in hospitals all the time. Women die a lot less in home births because in a typical situation, Mom and baby are both in good health and the pregnancy has had no complications. A midwife won't knowingly risk her license by taking on a woman with known health issues that could be detrimental to Mother and child. Women die in hospitals more because of interventions. Inductions, pitocin, epidurals, cesarean sections, etc. The list goes on. Those interventions can have consequences. High blood pressure, higher risk of excessive bleeding, blood clotting, death. Doctors treat birth as though it's a condition that needs helped rather than a natural process. Hospitals didn't exist long ago. Children were typically born at home. And they survived just fine. Someone, somewhere decided that babies needed to be born in hospitals. Giving birth was now an emergency. And it isn't. Typically.
To shame a mother who decides to give birth at home is just ridiculous. When we PLAN a home birth, we do our homework. It isn't like we decide doctors are the devil and we're gonna give birth secretly in our home and hide it like a prom night dumpster baby. (I hate that term but some pro-hospital people make me feel as though this is the equivalent of what I'm doing.) I looked at my options and decided giving birth in my home is what's best for me with my third child.
Some background on my previous two births.
Ashton was born at Butler Memorial Hospital on September 6, 2001. He was delivered by Dr. Byers. Good doc. Seriously. Big ol' black dude with HUGE hands but a good guy just the same. I was allowed to roam freely for a bit. I was in the shower, used the birthing ball, was on my hands and knees. That part wasn't so bad. I requested the epidural because I was in a lot of pain. Especially because they gave me pitocin to speed up my contractions and make them more intense. I was also exhausted. I didn't know back then that I had any other option. I felt giving birth in a hospital with pain relief was just what people did. That's what they're there for, right? To help you give birth comfortably. Now, with Ashton, I wanted to breastfeed but I was scared. I was 19, I had no knowledge or support. I tried one time to get Ashton to latch on when I was at home and became engorged. It hurt so bad...But I just figured I'd dry up in a few days, like my Mom said. And he was formula fed. And vaccinated. I vaccinated him on schedule. He was also circumcised, just as I thought everyone did. I did zero research because 10 years ago, I didn't have the ability to look up everything I've learned over the last 2 years. Because of my lack of education back then, I have no doubt in my mind that Ashton's Asperger's, PTSD and OCD are somewhat caused by vaccines and in large part by the abuse he watched and endured at the hands of his biological Father.
Fast forward 9 years to November 10, 2010. I give birth to a healthy 7 pound baby at UPMC Seneca. He was 3 weeks early according to the doctors. I am sure he was too but that isn't the point here. My water broke late afternoon November 9th. I was scared out of my mind because I was worried him being early might be bad. So off we went to the hospital, mistake #1. I wasn't having contractions when I got there so the first thing they did was administer pitocin. They completely ignored my birth plan and made me lay in a bed, strapped to machines. As the pitocin was starting to take effect, knowing that pitocin makes contractions more intense, I agreed to an epidural. I was scared shitless. My baby boy was coming 3 weeks early. Mistake #2 was being scared. I wasn't allowed food at the hospital. I went from 6pm until almost 11am with nothing but ice chips. I wasn't allowed to move. I laid there, on my back, unable to sleep. All.Night.Long.
And now the #2 thing that bothers me. Breastfeeding debates.
Shawn told me when we got together and started discussing kids that he wanted his kids to be born naturally. No shots, born in the woods essentially and breastfed. I'd known nothing other than hospital births because that's all you see on TV. I agreed to try breastfeeding but was unsure if I could because I failed with Ashton.
Zephyr got the HepB shot at birth against my wishes because they took him from me to get APGAR scores and to clean him up. I almost wanted him to have shots because I was afraid he'd catch something and die. I'd spent more time researching breastfeeding because I knew I'd do that. I figured a doctor would know what to do about the shots.
The nurses bring Z to me and tell me it's time to nurse or they have to give him sugar water because he's hungry. I had no clue how to get him to latch on so I allowed the sugar water but asked for a pump. I wanted to make sure I was making milk. They wheel a pump into my room. I'd never seen a breast pump prior to that day so I had no clue what the hell to do. And no one wanted to help. No one told me milk doesn't come in until day 3-4. No one told me that he wouldn't eat much. No one told me he would be better at getting milk out than a pump. So I tried pumping, got nothing. Kept at it. Meanwhile, Z kept getting formula. We go home and I'm sent on my way with a hand pump. That thing was shit. It made my hand hurt. I was pumping and crying constantly. Pumping because my baby needed fed, crying because my hand hurt so bad. Because of the kindness of friends, Danya gave me her pump. A double electric pump. It was heaven. But I still wasn't keeping Z happy with my little output of milk. We topped him off with formula. There were nights when I'd make sure Shawn was out cold, skip pumping and give Z formula because it was easier. I was failing. Miserably. All I wanted was for my boobs to work so they could feed my son. I called WIC, crying because I wanted to give up. Shawn and I were arguing, Z was crying, everyone was tired...I'd had enough. Finally, I held a screaming baby in my arms, closed my eyes and let Z do the work. He found his way to my breast and latched on like a pro. I was feeding my baby. He suckled for HOURS! I was proud. So was Shawn. We'd did it, Z and I. We'd established a breastfeeding relationship. He was 6 weeks old.
We are 18 months into his life and he still nurses. He rarely gets sick. He's happy and independent. He shares and plays well with other children. He's very explorative and just all around amazing. He shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. And that's fine by me. What pisses me off is when people, especially my own Mother, make comments about like 'He's too old for that' or 'He's gonna be on your boob until college' or 'When he has teeth, you should wean him' or my favorite 'When he starts asking for it, it's time to cut him off'.
#1. He's not too old. The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends breastfeeding for 2 years and beyond so long as mother and child mutually desire.
http://www.who.int/topics/breastfeeding/en/
#2. The natural weaning age is between 2 and 7 years. He will definitely not be on the boob until college.
#3. He got teeth at 5 months. Should I have stopped especially when breast milk is the only food recommended until baby is at least 6 months of age and even then, it's only for fun until the age of 1? Um. No.
#4. Babies as for breast milk from birth. Their only form of communication is crying. That is how they ask for milk. My 18 month old doesn't exactly speak a lot, but he does cry in the middle of the night to nurse and he tugs at my shirt when he wants to nurse during the day. He eats plenty of regular solid foods but he gets comfort and still gets tons of nutrients from my milk.
Some folks argue that we wouldn't want to see a 3 year old with a bottle of formula, why is it appropriate for a 3 year old to breastfeed? Here's a simple answer. Formula is a food supplement. It isn't like breast milk at all. My milk changes over time to meet Z's needs. Formula, it always stays the same, sitting on a shelf in it's liquid or powder form.
I've been working on this for nearly 6 hours now. I'm tired. My fingers are weak. But I am going to quickly say a few more things before I go and save the rest of what's on my chest for a rainy day.
You aren't less of a parent because you vaccinate, formula feed, use disposable diapers, or put your child to sleep in a crib. You aren't less of a woman because you deliver in a hospital with drugs or have an emergency c-section.
You aren't Supermom because you don't vaccinate, breastfeed for 4,658 months, use cloth diapers and co-sleep until Junior is off to college. You aren't Superwoman because you pushed that breech baby out at home after 6 months of hard labor.
Stop the Mommy wars! And stop trying to scare everyone into what you believe!
I'll be back later with more. Until then...Love the hell out of those babies. They're only small for a short time.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
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