For Other Mommys Reading This Blog

Ever since I had Squidget I've become very passionate about pregnancy and birth, and giving women the respect and fair start they deserve. I feel this way mostly because of how our healthcare system and my doctors failed me in my first two months with Squidget.

When I look back on it now I see where things could have been so much easier for me, and where I could have relaxed and enjoyed my newborn if only someone had stepped in to help me.

Lambton county has some of the most post-partum problems in Ontario. Last I checked (Christmas) Sarnia hospital doesn't have a specially trained person working on staff that knows enough about breastfeeding to help a newborn and mother. They have archaic practices regarding labour and birth (like, if you're having a boy they give you a pamphlet about mutilating his penis for tradition's sake). -- An OBGYN who got hold of my file was insisting I be induced with Goomba because I was 3 days over due (his recommendation was based on a study done in the 1960s that's since been proved questionable if not entirely wrong). He failed to mention to me that the risk of my uterus becoming hyper-stimulated and rupturing (like, exploding) because of an induction was higher than the risk of anything bad happening to Goomba if we waited another week. He also didn't mention that most of his inductions (most of those being medically unnecessary) end in a cesarean.

Nope. Didn't tell me any of that. He just told me that if I didn't let them drug me to get that baby out NOW it was probably going to die.

He also told me that most women are in so much pain that they need to have drugs to help them focus and push the baby out. My jaw nearly hit the floor. Women have been having babies for CENTURIES! And now, all of a sudden we're too weak to handle labour pains?! You know what I think? I think having people who believe in her strength, in the power of her body and her mind, close and encouraging her is enough. Sure, most women want the drugs. I know I did during my first birth - and I was begging for them with the second (didn't get them though. Because I had people there who believed in me. Huh, fancy that. Did it all naturally).

But you know what else? We don't need them. We've never needed them. Our bodies are made for birthing babies. We are powerful fucking amazon warrior queens!! Not weak little pansies who need drugs to focus of labour and delivery. If we DO take the drugs, it's because we CHOSE them. Not because we NEED them.

I had to argue with him for an hour, then finally agree to be induced in a few days, before they let me out of the hospital. Now, it's not that I was held at gun point, but I was an emotional hostage. "We just wants what's best for the baby" they said. As if I didn't!! As if I, the fucking MOTHER of the baby, wasn't interested in what was best!! I've never cried so hard than when I was being accused of putting my baby in danger. I was educated, I knew better, but I still felt helpless and stupid while trying to fight for what I knew was right.


5 days later Goomba came on her own. All natural, with no crazy risks to get her out according to some doctor's schedule.

They're not bad people. Don't get me wrong. But a lot of the attitudes and information in the Sarnia maternity wards are based on information from the 50s and 60s. Seriously outdated stuff.

Anyway, what I was wanting to write about was Squidget. She was my first and I didn't know anything. I was induced to get her out before thanksgiving. I wasn't told about the risks. I wasn't told that when you're induced they have surgery on stand-by because they're pretty much expecting that you won't be able to do it. My OBGYN was so sure I couldn't do it that he left for the day and wasn't even there when she was born!

Squidget's cord was immediately clamped and cut. No one told me that 1/3 of her blood was still in there, and if I had waited she would have had enough iron in her blood to last her until she was 6-7months old! (Instead she had problems with anemia and needed iron supplements.) Did you know that some infants will suffer from hypoxia (lack of oxygen in their blood) and experience brain damage because that cord was cut before they got the rest of their oxygen-filled blood from the placenta? The staff at Sarnia hospital don't know that! With Goomba I had to ask for it, and asked my husband to literally guard the thing so no one would clamp and cut too soon.

Someone said that if we left the cord the blood would drain out of the baby and back into the placenta! I couldn't believe I was hearing that, since I've become educated about birth and I knew that was a myth!! That was crazy!!

Anyway, Squidget was taken away quickly. Since I was so high on drugs I couldn't have cared less. No one had told me that holding that gooey baby against your bare chest for awhile after birth would help my milk come in, or that the first hour is the best time for that first latch (because after that the baby is so exhausted from being born they can't stay awake any longer to nurse. They'll fall asleep and then wake up later feeling hungry. Since the feeling of hunger upsets them, they have a very difficult time latching on).

When I finally got a chance to feed her they had dressed her and wrapped her tightly in blankets. I didn't think anything of it, since I had seen babies like that on TV. I later learned that babies use their cheeks and hands to help them nurse. They need to feel your skin on theirs to initiate a good latch. (No one told me that babies don't know anything about nursing. They have that sucking reflex, but they don't know anything about how to latch on properly. They're not born knowing how to breastfeed). Squidget had a very hard time latching. It hurt. I asked for help and the nurse just glanced at me "it looks good. It will be fine."

A few hours later I had blisters. A few days later I was bleeding from how bad her latch was. There was no one who could help me. I didn't know what I was doing wrong or how to fix it. By the 5th day I was in so much pain I just cried all day, especially when it was time to feed her. I felt sick every time I had to latch her on.

If I had someone I could have gone to, someone to show me how, to tell me all those things that could have made it easier before she was born, I wouldn't have spent the first two weeks of her life struggling.

So, I'm sorry if I seem really pushy or preachy. I just really wish someone had talked to me like I'm writing here BEFORE Squidget was born. Most of what I know now comes from aggressive research in the first months after Squidget was born, and even more since.

Another thing I went through that I only learned could have been prevented afterward, was postpartum depression. Sometimes it happens and it's not your fault, but in my case I think we could have avoided it. I learned later that when you're induced they put you on a drug called "pitocin" that is supposed to act like the natural hormone "oxytocin". Oxy is made by your body and initiates labour - but its most important function comes after the baby is born.

If you're induced or you get an epidural, your natural oxytocin can't do its job. Once the baby is born you're supposed to be flooded with oxytocin. I experienced it after Goomba was born. It's like being high. Nothing can upset you, and you just love this little baby so much it's crazy. You feel amazing, love and power, happy and strong.

But in some cases the pitocin from being induced actually blocks oxytocin from your brain. You go home from the hospital with your baby and you cannot feel any of those happy feelings. Literally. That's what happened to me with Squidget. I couldn't feel happy. Along with the never ending struggles to feed her, I was sad beyond belief. Sometimes I couldn't even sleep because I was so sad.

Just when I thought I had the hang of feeding Squidget (finally!) new problems arose. She didn't want to latch, but wanted to eat all the time. I spent most of my day re-latching her and crying because it seemed like I wasn't allowed to do anything right by her. I found out later that around 2 or 3 months your milk production changes from hormones to supply and demand. The flow can slow down and your baby can get really frustrated with that -- by latching and un-latching they stimulate faster let-downs of milk.
Well awesome. That would have been great to know before I was bawling my eyes out at 4am and screaming at her to "just nurse like normal!!"

Then there came the push to supplement with formula. I got it twice, for both of my girls. Squidget gained very well at first, but then she tapered off and stopped gaining weight very fast. She was still drinking milk like a little piggy, but she wasn't measuring up to the growth charts. There came a push to give her "more". She had problems sleeping through the night. There came a push that maybe she just needed more food in her little tummy. Maybe some formula.

I had learned by then, and went home to research. First of all, Squidget was being measured against the weights of formula fed babies, who grow differently. Formula fed babies grow slowly at first, because the formula is so hard for their tummies to digest. But then, when their systems start to mature they can digest it quicker and since formula is mostly sugar they start packing on the pounds.

Breastfed babies are different. They gain quickly at first, because the milk is made specifically for them, so it's perfect to digest. Then they slow down, because human milk is normal and they aren't supposed to get so big so fast. Squidget wasn't underweight. She was perfectly normal for a perfectly normally fed baby. And I knew that in my heart, because she was healthy and alert, with no signs of dehydration or undernourishment.

The second push for me to give formula came 4 days after Goomba was born. She had pooped out all her meconium and then stopped. This can be normal, since breast milk is so perfect that sometimes there is very little waste. I wasn't worried, because I had seen it with Squidget - and Goomba was still peeing fine, was alert for a couple periods of the day, and wasn't showing any signs of distress.

Her care providers panicked. I held them off as long as I could and finally lied to them, saying I would give her formula. They wanted to check her weight right away, to make sure I was doing as I was told. I cried again then, from feeling helpless and wronged for doing what I knew was right. That night, without any supplementing, she pooped. I'm glad I lied and I didn't give her formula. Giving formula when it's not medically necessary is probably the easiest way to completely screw up breastfeeding.

I don't mean to write that our culture is out to get nursing mothers - but it is!! And the most infuriating part is once this broken system has successfully beaten a breastfeeding mother into submission, and she is forced to switch to formula, the same culture shames her for not giving her baby what is "best"!! We put so much pressure on a new mom to do what's best and breastfeed her baby, but then we don't give her any power to do so!!

I hung in there. But I had my husband who believed in me. He never once suggested that formula might be better at feeding my baby than I was. I had my mom, who while she couldn't help me or really understand, was always cheering me on. My aunt believed in me too. So I pulled through, I started reading, I learned and I learned, and now this is something I am incredibly passionate about. Pregnant mothers deserve more. They deserve better than what they're getting. We need more support for breastfeeding in our community - because even with a public health nurse and best start programs and all of that -- I still struggled needlessly with my first daughter. Who knows how many other mothers out there are struggling like me? My point is this: They don't have to struggle. We can make it better.

Family Day Carnival

Today was a Carnival Day! Our mall had games, face painting, kart racing and balloon animals set up for the family day weekend. Since a sheet of tickets was only $5, we packed up the girls and headed into town.

First thing first, Squiget wanted her face painted. She was ready for it, because we've had been talking her through it for a week. She wanted to be a Monster. No, a Butterfly. No wait, a Dragon! But when the lovely clown lady asked her what she wanted, she answered "A Kitty". And here she is:

I have better pictures, but this is the only one with a smile.

I'm so proud of her. When we went for a balloon animal she went right up to the man and asked for a "Purple Penguin", which I don't have a photo of - but it was perfect. Kart racing didn't go well, even with Daddy pushing her, but she was laughing and having fun anyway.

Goomba slept in the baby carrier through the whole thing.

We finished off the day with Popcorn and Icecream, which gave Squiget a stomachache. "I need veggies, make my tummy better", she informed us on the ride home.

Yup (^_^) So, so, so proud of her!

Psycho Mommy

Today I snapped.

Goomba has been such an easy baby. She's adorable, quiet, sleeps and eats. There's nothing fussy about her. And so far, on this magical hormone ride, I've been getting by with just that. But today I just couldn't be calm anymore.

Squiget has been having a terrible time. And I understand her feelings. At least, I try my best. I know it must be so hard to deal with sharing me, with a new person in the house, with us changing everything about her life and not even asking her permission first! I've shed more than enough tears about it, and tried to be there, caring for her and understanding her as much as I could.

But today, at nap time, I just couldn't bear failing her anymore.

She was exhausted, and as we cuddled in the rocking chair to nurse before laying her down, she fell right asleep. Now, Squiget has not fallen asleep while nursing in MONTHS. Maybe not since she turned 2. She was so sweet, sleeping in my arms, and I hugged and rocked her for a few more moments, crying about how I have probably ruined her life with a sibling (not really... okay maybe a little).

Then I heard Goomba waking up, and stood up to lay Squiget down. As soon as she was in bed, though, she woke up. Realizing I was about to leave, she started to scream. And scream. And scream. I tried hugs, kisses, more hugs and petting her head but she just kept crying. I knew she was exhausted, I knew she was upset, but Goomba was crying too and she's just a baby. She doesn't know about nap times. So I left the room and Squiget started to scream as if her entire world was ending.

That's when I snapped.

Why couldn't she have just stayed asleep? Why did I have to leave her there crying her heart out, so I could go get her sister? Why couldn't she just nap?! Sleep was all she needed!

I turned around. I walked back in. I shouted over her. "Stop crying! Go to sleep!" She kept crying. I know screaming doesn't stop anyone from crying. I knew I had just shouted at her in a completely psycho, trying to scare her, crazy mommy voice. I knelt down beside her bed crying "Why? Why won't you just sleep?!"

Goomba was in hysterics in the next room. Crying harder than she ever has, even when they stabbed her foot for that newborn blood test. So I left Squiget there to cry herself to sleep.

I'm a horrible person.

This is not the mommy I want to be. And this is not the mommy they deserve.

And Then Pinkie Pie Walked Home

This morning was difficult. I'm having a hard time tandem nursing, so I have to convince Squiget that she has to wait her turn when Goomba is awake. This goes over less well every day I try it. It's like I'm slowly watching her break down; the happy and reasonable toddler I had two weeks ago is gradually losing it and falling apart - but there's nothing I can do about it. I hate how hard this is on her.

The rest of the day went pretty well. After naptime we went for our first walk together. It was Goomba's first time outside for longer than just going out to the car and back inside. But she was in the baby carrier and slept for the entire two hours. Poor Squiget is in bad form from being cooped up inside for so long! We were still a few blocks from home when she declared that she was tired and I needed to carry her home - which is pretty much impossible when wearing a newborn in a carrier. Luckily we took so long walking home that we met Husband on the way and he was able to carry her home.

Before that, however, Squiget wanted to go shopping. So, we stopped in at a few of the shops along main street. In the toy aisles of one particular pseudo department store we found ALL OF THE PONIES. Twilight Sparkle. Rarity. Rainbow Dash - all of them. Squiget was ecstatic. We only had enough money for one and she happily settled on Pinkie Pie

Pony Wedding Edition

Once she had paid for it, she naturally wanted it opened. I complied, and then it began - Pinkie Pie had to walk the whole way home. Squiget spent most of the rest of the walk squatting and shuffling along the sidewalk, "walking" her Pinkie Pony and encouraging her all the way. If it wasn't so darn adorable I would have been pulling my hair out.

Later today she had a few more meltdowns. I'm not sure if I'm doing okay or if I'm completely failing her as a mother. I just hope her feelings even out soon. On the bright side, she is still head over heels in love with Goomba - always wanting to hug and kiss her, declaring her love in the cutest toddler ways. I need to video it so I can show them when they're older and screaming at each other.

A Really Good Day

Today was a very good day. First thing in the morning, as I settled on the couch to nurse Goomba and watch Ponies with Squiget, Uncle T walked in! Squiget freaked out. She loves the guy. And he stayed the whole day. Mommy's busy with Goomba? No probs, Squiget will just play with her Uncle T. Big girl needs help changing, going potty, getting a toy, getting a snack, finding that specific episode of Ponies to watch? Guess what? Uncle T is here and he will take care of it!

I love visitors. Seriously. Poor Squiget has not been getting enough attention and it's really starting to show. It's tearing me apart inside. Even with help today, I still had to swallow a lump in my throat when I watched her bashing her toys together and shouting "Shut up! Cause I SAID SO!!" She's really got some issues - but short of ignoring the baby and devoting most of my time to her again, I'm really not sure what to do.

While Goomba was napping I decided some Mommy-Squiget time might help, so we went to the grocery store to buy supplies for lunch. Maybe it's part of being nearly two and a half, but she gets distracted really easy now. I had to physically touch her back or arm to get her back to reality every couple minutes in the store. If spending time just us helped I couldn't really tell...

Anyway, after Husband came home from work we packed up both kidlets and went out for Sushi with both girls. My first restaurant experience with Goomba was a bust - she slept the ENTIRE time. Amazing. Squiget  NEVER slept like that. It's really starting to weird me out...

Visiting Day

Ow.

I am in so much pain today, I could hardly get myself out of bed. It's worth it, though, because my house is now completely back in shape (with the exception of my brother's computer still humming away at my kitchen table.)

Goomba had a doctor's appointment today at 10, so I took Squiget to daycare and headed over to the office with carseat in tow. I'd forgotten how heavy those things could be! She did very well, weighing in at 8lbs 3oz. Much improved from her 7lbs 14oz on Sunday! If she's anything like her sister, though, she'll be slow to gain now. Squiget was in newborn size clothes until she was nearly 4 months old!!

Today was going to be the day my sister forced me to watch Merlin (her newest favouritest BBC show) with her. I was actually looking forward to it - but then my brother stopped by with his girlfriend and wanted to visit. Since we had been complaining about never seeing him, we couldn't exactly say: "Go away! We're watching our stories!" So we spent the entire afternoon visiting instead. And Goomba had an AMAZING poop while Mel was holding her. I laughed my head off.

Goomba with her Aunt and Uncle

Finally, she has her eye open!

Tonight we'll be watching more of the show. Should be fun. With all my hormones and mommy feels it will be nice to have something to take my mind off things.

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

That's IT.

It's 2013 and I've had enough of the disaster that is my house.

I'm spending all day cleaning, sorting, and organizing Christmas and clutter out of my house. Conveniently  garbage day has been delayed one day AND it's large garbage pick-up day! I'll have plenty to throw out by the end of this!

Happy New Year!!