tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56007128782119534642024-03-13T15:02:49.401-07:00Naturo-Mommybeckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-36417943833641628322013-07-01T22:40:00.002-07:002013-07-02T00:02:10.354-07:00Why Midwifery?I'm writing this post as an assignment for a class I'm taking. This is where I collect my thoughts and then disperse them, so that others can relate to me. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Midwifery:</span></u></b><br />
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></b>
Why am I interested in midwifery? Why do I think it's for me? How did I find out about midwives? After having two very medicalized and invasive(but not surgical) births, I knew I wanted a different way to have my third child. I knew even before I conceived my youngest that something had to be different. So, I started looking into more natural and alternative births.<br />
<br />
This started when I was 32 weeks pregnant with my 2nd child. I started looking into natural techniques and took a hypno-birthing class. I was interested in natural birth, but I didn't seem to have my mind wrapped around what a truly natural birth was. The idea of it was great, but the pressures of being at the hospital and having the drugs was overpowering and I caved.<br />
<br />
When I found out I was pregnant with Levi, my youngest, I knew, for a fact that I would not have him in the hospital and I would not have drugs. Call it what you will, but my intuition kicked into high gear from that point on. I researched endlessly about birth and precautions to take to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy and delivery.<br />
<br />
By my third trimester, I knew I wanted to be a birth professional. Wether it be a doula, midwife or OB nurse, it was going to happen. All of my research led me to one conclusion: that the state of maternal healthcare in the U.S. was in horrible shape. Women's needs are disregarded and are coerced and even forced to do things they did not want to do, all in the name of a healthy baby. It never mattered to these healthcare professionals HOW the baby came into the world, but if a live baby was delivered, they'd done their job and that was good enough.<br />
<br />
This is not true. All a mother wants is to have a healthy, happy baby. This is why they are swayed so easily to do a doctor or nurse's and midwife's bidding. My mission in becoming a midwife is to educate women about their bodies. Not just in childbirth, but their overall health, to live a long and fulfilling life.<br />
<br />
To me, midwives are the ones <i>meant</i> to care for women. When a complication arises, this is the Obstetrician's job. To treat the complication and resolve it. Low-risk women do not need to see an obstetrician, because an OB's training doesn't cover an uncomplicated pregnancy and labor. <i>Because</i> obstetricians deal with complications, most will warn any low-risk mother about something happening so that they get what they need.<br />
<br />
If a labor is taking too long, better put her on pitocin! If she's feeling too much pain from the pitocin, better get her that epidural. The epidural stopped her contractions, better up the "pit"! Well, now the baby is in distress, we better give her a c-section! This is the famous phrase that women in the natural birth community like to call "cascade of interventions".<br />
<br />
Obstetricians and OB Nurses are not trained in the normal physiology of birth. In their world, women are pumped full of drugs, laiden with wires and IV's and stay in bed until it's time to push or the mother or baby show signs of distress, leading to c-section, in 33% of births. As well as laying flat on their backs, pushing to a 10-count.<br />
<br />
Midwives are trained in the natural physiology of birth. Gravity is nature's best friend. A laboring mother needs peace and calm and resolve and positive affirmation to give birth. This is often not facilitated in hospitals. Often times, there are doctors and nurses coming and going. All of these strange people, in a strange environment(hospital), touching you and inserting things into you, sometimes against your wishes. This can cause longer labors, and will stall a labor, leading to the mother to be convinced that pitocin is needed.<br />
<br />
This is what I want to change. I want women to be in tune with themselves. I want them to feel empowered and to feel joy as they come closer to meeting their baby. I want them to know their bodies. I want them to know their rights as a patient. I want them to be able to <i>cure</i> a condition, instead of trying to cover it up with drugs (i.e. high blood pressure, onset of pre-eclampsia, extreme morning sickness). I want to give women the power to choose the birth that they want, because they know what is best for themselves. Because this is something I did not have with my first two children.<br />
<br />
Knowledge is power and I want to give women the gift of the knowledge that their bodies are just as they should be. They are not broken. They are not ill. 40 weeks is not their expiration date. Women, as complex as our bodies may be, are made this way for a reason. We were built to create life and bring it forth. Birth <i>is</i> a big deal and I see it as my duty to let women know this.beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-67458661120732339832013-06-15T09:43:00.002-07:002013-06-15T10:12:30.947-07:00Naturo-Mommy's WAHM Product Review Featuring: Roberta's Boutique(on Etsy)I sincerely apologize that I have neglected my blog, for those of you that look forward to reading it. Life has been crazy busy lately. Anyway. Onto the review of this lovely mama's product!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/RobertasBoutique" target="_blank">Roberta's Boutique</a> has a cute and quaint feel. I was sent her children's matching card set, and a laminated activity booklet with a cleaning cloth that can be reused and not easily damaged. My kids had lots of fun with it, using Expo markers.<br />
<br />
I wasn't able to get adequate pictures of them in action because my camera is out of commission until I can afford a new one. I did happen to get these pictures on my webcam though!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G6cKCozgcPM/UbyVMljUb1I/AAAAAAAAB8I/7AwNY2a6Bjg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+1.03.50+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="552" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G6cKCozgcPM/UbyVMljUb1I/AAAAAAAAB8I/7AwNY2a6Bjg/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+1.03.50+AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Laminated activity booklet with cleaning cloth</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V_4cli0WaFA/UbyVLz2M6NI/AAAAAAAAB8A/SZPKgnW0xz0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+12.51.06+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V_4cli0WaFA/UbyVLz2M6NI/AAAAAAAAB8A/SZPKgnW0xz0/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+12.51.06+AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Two card matching sets</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We are <i style="font-weight: bold;">loving</i> these matching card sets! My 3 year old just can't get over the "<i>Children Playing</i>" set. She loves seeing the diversity in ethnicity and describing what they are doing in the pictures. My 6 year old has even set them up in story form to tell different parts of a story with each picture!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CwHHui4bCeI/UbyVOnPytnI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/pQcDHKmb9w4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+12.58.06+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="398" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CwHHui4bCeI/UbyVOnPytnI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/pQcDHKmb9w4/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+12.58.06+AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Children Playing Matching Game</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I don't know if you can see or not, but this <i style="font-weight: bold;">"Colors" </i>matching set says the colors in both English, Spanish <i>and</i> French! Accomplishing 3 goals at once. Teaching them their colors, teaching them another language, and helping them improve their grouping and matching skills.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ligCXLkisXo/UbyVNz-fmOI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/GG8dryYRDck/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+12.59.01+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="396" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ligCXLkisXo/UbyVNz-fmOI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/GG8dryYRDck/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-06-13+at+12.59.01+AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Colors Matching Game</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
These sets are very valuable while on trips. The activity booklet will keep an older child (about 4-6 years old) busy and quiet and the matching sets are great for table games in a motel room instead of dragging tons of toys with you on a trip.<br />
<br />
Overall rating: Very creative. Almost indestructible, unless you take scissors to them. lol Very portable. They can fit just about anywhere. The cards are smaller than a regular deck of playing cards and the activity booklet is small enough to slip into a tiny space for storage. This product get an <span style="font-size: large;"><b>A+</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
Be sure to visit <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/RobertasBoutique" target="_blank">Roberta's Boutique</a> on Etsy!beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-36500975501689911362013-04-26T21:59:00.001-07:002013-04-26T22:09:30.886-07:00Naturo-Mommy's WAHM Product Review Featuring: Erijane Creations!We <i>accidentally</i> skipped over March and then scrambled to get someone in for our April spot, but we <i>promise</i> to keep doing our monthly reviews!<br />
<br />
This month, we are featuring <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ErijaneCreations" target="_blank">Erijane Creations</a>! They specialize in crocheted items, such as hats, booties, baby blankets with hoods, and if you want your fix of frills, they have lots of that as well! Tutus, headbands, hair bows and clips! They have them!<br />
<br />
Here are some of their products. These pictures are property of Erijane Creations!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O_QAG7ZMXJc/UXtM5dk7Z3I/AAAAAAAABeg/QNYknY-FD-I/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+9.57.57+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O_QAG7ZMXJc/UXtM5dk7Z3I/AAAAAAAABeg/QNYknY-FD-I/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+9.57.57+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Classic Hair Bow</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bLOewdiG-aM/UXtNXGjK8YI/AAAAAAAABeo/ZO8tOO62jAw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+10.00.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="507" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bLOewdiG-aM/UXtNXGjK8YI/AAAAAAAABeo/ZO8tOO62jAw/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+10.00.02+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red & White Tutu w/ initials</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4BpRYHF34Q/UXtQDJjis1I/AAAAAAAABe4/sfr_Eyz6ccQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+10.10.26+PM.png.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4BpRYHF34Q/UXtQDJjis1I/AAAAAAAABe4/sfr_Eyz6ccQ/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+10.10.26+PM.png.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Blanket w/ Hood</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f7Ysy_13BUs/UXtcToTPejI/AAAAAAAABjI/XdZlx1p7h3Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+11.03.52+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f7Ysy_13BUs/UXtcToTPejI/AAAAAAAABjI/XdZlx1p7h3Y/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+11.03.52+PM.png" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adult Beanie w/ Flower</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Naturo-Mommy was sent a set of baby apparel hat and booties made by the wonderful ladies at Erijane Creations and oohed and aaahed at how teeny and cute they were! Since my baby isn't much of a baby anymore, I did some searching of friends and one of my special Attachment mama friends came to my rescue with her adorable bundle!<br />
<br />
This is Levi *heart melts at cuteness*<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nbc0E6JwNKQ/UXtUGSIEsNI/AAAAAAAABfQ/K8LZ5MnD53c/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+10.28.20+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nbc0E6JwNKQ/UXtUGSIEsNI/AAAAAAAABfQ/K8LZ5MnD53c/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-26+at+10.28.20+PM.png" width="516" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And this is what he'll be wearing:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Suo_WNlsivE/UXtUVYNt2cI/AAAAAAAABfY/rJTSoTflHpM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.21.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="521" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Suo_WNlsivE/UXtUVYNt2cI/AAAAAAAABfY/rJTSoTflHpM/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.21.05+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Beanies and booties are a <i>must have</i> for smaller babies and in the cooler months of winter! I know I love curling up into knit and crocheted wool. And, in this case, it doesn't hurt to be a fan of baseball, either. <b><i>wink</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Here is our little superstar in action!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ilLrRPDo3_4/UXtVSQiEsRI/AAAAAAAABgA/3ltMUqFTccI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.39.37+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ilLrRPDo3_4/UXtVSQiEsRI/AAAAAAAABgA/3ltMUqFTccI/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.39.37+PM.png" width="464" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NKgMB1jbBiQ/UXtVvo29B7I/AAAAAAAABg4/BdA6RPhDplM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.27.28+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NKgMB1jbBiQ/UXtVvo29B7I/AAAAAAAABg4/BdA6RPhDplM/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.27.28+PM.png" width="504" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e4snOiTySJY/UXtVfaJnaiI/AAAAAAAABgU/Tlqx2TrXCVc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.33.45+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e4snOiTySJY/UXtVfaJnaiI/AAAAAAAABgU/Tlqx2TrXCVc/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.33.45+PM.png" width="456" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IYcJHe03MIs/UXtVSGBwfOI/AAAAAAAABf8/SlEjonDUkxg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.39.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IYcJHe03MIs/UXtVSGBwfOI/AAAAAAAABf8/SlEjonDUkxg/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.39.05+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CkhD5Gft6Jo/UXtVvv5yytI/AAAAAAAABg0/B0M3z6_o7CY/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.25.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CkhD5Gft6Jo/UXtVvv5yytI/AAAAAAAABg0/B0M3z6_o7CY/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.25.59+PM.png" width="474" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QHvDsCfLo-U/UXtVgFflTeI/AAAAAAAABgg/L95vvikPLIU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.35.17+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QHvDsCfLo-U/UXtVgFflTeI/AAAAAAAABgg/L95vvikPLIU/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.35.17+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sbWtXOwwzXM/UXtWLpAKz7I/AAAAAAAABig/T4-GsNKNvv4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.12.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sbWtXOwwzXM/UXtWLpAKz7I/AAAAAAAABig/T4-GsNKNvv4/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.12.44+PM.png" width="480" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8zhbuWuQy_U/UXtWKrFQvHI/AAAAAAAABiY/Y0UtxadpX0M/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.12.26+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8zhbuWuQy_U/UXtWKrFQvHI/AAAAAAAABiY/Y0UtxadpX0M/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.12.26+PM.png" width="456" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fjr2gpJwyjQ/UXtWMCpZRdI/AAAAAAAABik/GVCRtM-LYT0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.12.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fjr2gpJwyjQ/UXtWMCpZRdI/AAAAAAAABik/GVCRtM-LYT0/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.12.59+PM.png" width="481" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t2IEwl9V12k/UXtV_WrzYTI/AAAAAAAABhk/1oPvoVDbLkw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.22.11+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t2IEwl9V12k/UXtV_WrzYTI/AAAAAAAABhk/1oPvoVDbLkw/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.22.11+PM.png" width="441" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hM1Hn6ibCkw/UXtWATySeEI/AAAAAAAABh0/djCC8mzYZDc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.24.37+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hM1Hn6ibCkw/UXtWATySeEI/AAAAAAAABh0/djCC8mzYZDc/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.24.37+PM.png" width="476" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PF63GtsyFh4/UXtV_XZRtZI/AAAAAAAABhc/f_XjC6M92vQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.23.04+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PF63GtsyFh4/UXtV_XZRtZI/AAAAAAAABhc/f_XjC6M92vQ/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-23+at+2.23.04+PM.png" width="443" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
There isn't much to say after seeing the pictures. They pretty much speak for themselves! You've <i>got</i> to put Erijane on your baby! (or child... or yourself!) The size and fit were right on and they totally maxxed us out on cuteness! It was a cooler April day here, so the booties and beanie were awesome while being outside!<br />
<br />
Erijane Creations is operating from their <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ErijaneCreations?fref=ts" target="_blank">Facebook page</a> so you can make orders, requests and consult them about prices (which are <i>awesome, </i>by the way!). Payment was easy and shipping was fast and convenient. Go like their page and see what they're about! You won't be sorry!<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">For more information on being featured in our monthly review, please email us at naturo_mommy2@yahoo.com or message us on our page, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/naturomommy" target="_blank">Naturo-Mommy</a>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-29926092433147775662013-04-10T21:09:00.000-07:002013-04-12T20:28:14.350-07:00Naturo-Mommy's Guide to Achieving a Natural BirthA guide to achieving a natural birth <span style="font-size: x-small;">Note: All pictures are used with permission</span><br />
Most women that choose to do attachment parenting or have had traumatic birth experiences in the past are in the process of educating themselves on pregnancy, labor and birth. Birth is one of Naturo-Mommy's goals and passions to educate women (and their partners) on their bodies. The more you know, the more in control you'll be over your labor. Knowledge is power, if you're in the presence of a care provider that wants it their way. I've decided to take it upon myself to write out some things that have helped me and those around me achieve a natural birth.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Choosing A Care Provider</u></b></span><br />
It's always very important to choose your care provider very carefully, if you choose to get prenatal care. It's not wise to settle on just any care provider, if you have more than one to choose from, because you just don't know what their bedside manner is like or if they'll try to push you around. Always look up online reviews of the doctors or midwife you are choosing. If you don't see much good about them, steer <i>clear</i>!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AwWzIvT2_dw/UWZIJCnpdyI/AAAAAAAABQM/QKHV3sqDD2M/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.20.12+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="397" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AwWzIvT2_dw/UWZIJCnpdyI/AAAAAAAABQM/QKHV3sqDD2M/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.20.12+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></b>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Birth Attendants</span></u></b><br />
One thing that I want to make clear is that midwives and OB/GYN's are not the only birth attendants you can have at your birth. There are women who specialize in support, compassion and advocating for your needs during labor, when you or your partner cannot. She is a doula and a doula can be very invaluable, and act as a loving, patient friend during a difficult time during labor, whether it be trouble with you, your baby, your doctor or nurse pushing things on you that you don't want. She is there and will help. Your doula may also specialize in post-partum care, and this can include helping you care for yourself, helping with breastfeeding and even placenta encapsulation, which we'll get to later.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DuRYqSz6t0U/UWZIbAeYWpI/AAAAAAAABQU/IPfmepkC7ds/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.21.27+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DuRYqSz6t0U/UWZIbAeYWpI/AAAAAAAABQU/IPfmepkC7ds/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.21.27+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
photo credit: <a href="http://www.balancedbirth.com/" target="_blank">balanced birth</a></div>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></b>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Birth Plan</span></u></b><br />
Say what you will about birth plans, but they can be just as valuable as a doula. If you want to be left alone during labor, write it down. If you don't want fetal monitoring, write it down. Make sure to share your birth plan with your provider a few weeks in advance so you can talk about it in future visits and your wishes won't be announced last minute and surprise an unsuspecting Obstetrician. I made this mistake with my youngest. "Oh my! What's a fetoscope? I've never seen one." "You want delayed cord clamping? I don't do that." "You'll have to ask the nurses about doing minimal monitoring." You don't want to be in that spot of explaining yourself on several topics in one setting. If you plan on having a few people at your birth, it might be a good idea to tell your care provider in advance as well.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's a good <a href="http://www.earthmamaangelbaby.com/free-birth-plan" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">birth plan template</span></a></div>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></b>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">When Labor Begins</span></u></b><br />
Notify your provider when you know you are in labor. This doesn't necessarily mean you need to run off to the hospital or have your midwife and doula rush over to your house. Just go with the flow and time your contractions, if you like. Find a good groove and listen to music or meditate. If it's at all possible and you have an established chiropractor, go get an adjustment so everything is aligned perfectly for labor! Take a shower and eat. It might be a good idea to eat something that's sure to give you an energy boost, since your body will be doing a marathon. Eat some nuts or some noodles and definitely keep your sugars in check with some fruit, so you'll be a little less likely to feel sick later on. Do things that keep you content and relaxed while in early labor. This is not an emergency, this is a joyous, exciting time, when you'll meet your baby.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a9S5YS2Wv4Y/UWZJiSPxnDI/AAAAAAAABQk/Z7mXFGjHavg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.26.13+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a9S5YS2Wv4Y/UWZJiSPxnDI/AAAAAAAABQk/Z7mXFGjHavg/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.26.13+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">It's Intense, What Do I Do?</span></u></b><br />
Your contractions are getting close together and becoming too much for you to handle. If you're choosing to go to the hospital or stay at home, it's important to tell your care provider how labor is progressing and what your game plan is and ask for tips on pain relief. Here are a few things you can do:<br />
<br />
<b>Shower or bath</b>: Some people refer to water as nature's epidural. While it doesn't take away <i>all</i> labor discomfort, most women who use water for contractions find immense relief.<br />
<br />
<b>Pressure on hips: </b>If someone is with you, have them press on your hips during contractions for counter-pressure.<br />
<br />
<b>Sway & rock:</b> Find someone or something sturdy to lean forward on and sway those hips! Not only does it keep those muscles loosened, it helps baby come down more. You can also get on hands and knees and rock back and forth or sway your hips in that position as well.<br />
<br />
<b>Vocalizing:</b> Vocalizing is a very important part of pain relief in labor. Some women do it more than others or are louder or more... <span style="color: red;">c</span><span style="color: orange;">o</span><span style="color: yellow;">l</span><span style="color: lime;">o</span><span style="color: cyan;">r</span><span style="color: blue;">f</span><span style="color: purple;">u</span><span style="color: magenta;">l </span>with their vocalizing words. I have found, through experience and asking around that one of the better vocalizing techniques to keep you more relaxed is to keep your throat, jaw and eyes relaxed and mouth in a wide "O" position during contractions. "Aaaaahhh'ing" through contractions will intensify them more. A good, long, low "ooooohhhh" does wonders! And if you need to curse or scream, DO IT! haha<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PWQr_9l7Kn4/UWZKXELloII/AAAAAAAABRI/-viGD5-tLMA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.26+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PWQr_9l7Kn4/UWZKXELloII/AAAAAAAABRI/-viGD5-tLMA/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.26+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Being in water during labor is known among the natural birth community as</b><br />
<b>nature's epidural and helps relax mom. </b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4efzOjceWQ4/UWZKa2WJsFI/AAAAAAAABRg/bjn_LJJuc90/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4efzOjceWQ4/UWZKa2WJsFI/AAAAAAAABRg/bjn_LJJuc90/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.02+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XWBINv-OEtw/UWZKbTsE3mI/AAAAAAAABRo/d840oomCadI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XWBINv-OEtw/UWZKbTsE3mI/AAAAAAAABRo/d840oomCadI/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.14+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></b></div>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></b>
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">The Staff Is Harassing Me About Interventions</span></u></b><br />
You've arrived at the hospital and you've given your birth plan to staff. There is at least one nurse that doesn't look at the birth plan or chooses to ignore it. She keeps asking if you want drugs, if she can check your cervix, the list goes on. It's very important that you make your wishes clear or have someone there to advocate your needs. Whether that be a doula, your partner, family or friend, as long as they're your rock as far as what you want and need. Only YOU get to choose what happens to your body and your baby. Nobody else. Another thing that a nurse or doctor might get you to NOT do in labor is EAT. Eat whatever you want, whenever. Your body needs fuel to facilitate labor! And of course, if you're at home, no one will stop you from eating. ;)<br />
Edited to add: Don't feel like a failure if you do end up needing an epidural. It happens. I know a few mamas who've been way too exhausted to continue labor without one and just needed a bit of rest, or actually having a swollen cervix because their body wouldn't quit pushing at 8 or 9 centimeters. There's a place for epidurals, but they are an abused intervention. It's a great option, though, for the reasons I explained above.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Different Positions to Bring Baby Down & Pushing</u></b></span><br />
This is another area where you'll need a strong advocate. A lot of doctors and nurses don't like a patient that won't "be good and lay down". I know that's not the case for ALL, but it happens more than you'll care to know. I've heard of women being FORCED to be on their backs. Get in any position that is comfortable for you and ask for whatever you need. Hip pressure, help getting to hands and knees, swaying your hips and holding onto someone. You want to keep those hips open for baby to descend. When it's pushing time, you want to TRY to stay off your back unless that's what you feel is right. Being on your back closes up your pelvis by 30% and baby will need to go under your pelvis and UP and out, so you're essentially working against gravity instead of <i>with</i> it. More effective positions for birthing are upright positions, such as: Squatting, Birthing stool, or full upright standing. You can also use positions that don't involve being upright. Hands and knees is always great. Side-lying with one leg up is good for a wide pelvic opening.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ae3cVsIu6G8/UWZHQGnbNfI/AAAAAAAABQA/mqKv5Fe2laU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.15.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ae3cVsIu6G8/UWZHQGnbNfI/AAAAAAAABQA/mqKv5Fe2laU/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.15.59+PM.png" width="480" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JQ67K0Z-Jow/UWZRr5tw_SI/AAAAAAAABR4/5IILGlQQZ98/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-11+at+12.00.27+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JQ67K0Z-Jow/UWZRr5tw_SI/AAAAAAAABR4/5IILGlQQZ98/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-11+at+12.00.27+AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Good upright, squatting form, supported by partner. Both effective and intimate.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>In The Event That A C-Section Becomes Necessary</u></b></span><br />
You can get a spinal block, which is when the anesthetic goes INTO the spine, whereas an epidural is right outside of the spine. You can get the epidural, of course, or you can be put to sleep. Anything is possible when it comes to spinal pain relief, because sometimes it doesn't work. In which case, usually in an emergency, they'll put you under. If you're awake, you still need your lovely family, friend, or whoever to advocate for your needs in this vulnerable time. Explore your options for what you'd like when baby is being born, because it's not just cut and go. Bonding is still crucial, even with c-sections. And even if you end up with a c-section, do not feel like a failure. Your body isn't broken and you can always try for a VBAC later or a gentle c-section if that's what you're comfortable with.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Aftercare</u></b></span><br />
Everything that happens after the birth is crucial to yours and your baby's bonding as well. Even if you end up with a c-section, you might try immediate skin-to-skin so that the two of you can bond chemically through touch and sense of smell. The oxytocin coursing through your body is there for a reason. That wonderful love hormone! Having baby close for even the first hour is very important. Baby does NOT have to leave your side, unless showing signs of distress. If baby is fine, which is usually the case, baby stays with you, with the cord attached until it's done pulsating, nursing, looking at each other. Never allow traction to be applied to the cord to expel your placenta. This can lead to hemorrhaging. Let it come on its own. Make sure you and your little family are left to relax and bond, whether you're in hospital or at home.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1hMX1Pt_hG8/UWcV0EV61QI/AAAAAAAABSk/wm_OxIsCIpc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-11+at+1.57.38+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1hMX1Pt_hG8/UWcV0EV61QI/AAAAAAAABSk/wm_OxIsCIpc/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-11+at+1.57.38+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Breastfeeding immediately after birth helps the uterus <br />contract down and release the placenta.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DfoKJZ6oDHU/UWZKRgjF8dI/AAAAAAAABQ0/2XgLPrMRQbI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.35+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DfoKJZ6oDHU/UWZKRgjF8dI/AAAAAAAABQ0/2XgLPrMRQbI/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.35+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small; font-weight: bold; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b>(Admin Lizzy with her youngest- home birth)</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uFflDxHfbpI/UWZKSPks_PI/AAAAAAAABRA/oq1ql-5QtIo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.45+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uFflDxHfbpI/UWZKSPks_PI/AAAAAAAABRA/oq1ql-5QtIo/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.45+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xpgzwy-b3Dk/UWZKSG7_WxI/AAAAAAAABRE/0X_KcPNPvNg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xpgzwy-b3Dk/UWZKSG7_WxI/AAAAAAAABRE/0X_KcPNPvNg/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.54+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uk46TwgLLfE/UWZKXuMe2aI/AAAAAAAABRc/9HYJ6c1Z5QA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.37+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uk46TwgLLfE/UWZKXuMe2aI/AAAAAAAABRc/9HYJ6c1Z5QA/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.27.37+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_VBakmHebGU/UWZKXAs6hNI/AAAAAAAABRU/e1Uzl-SH--Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_VBakmHebGU/UWZKXAs6hNI/AAAAAAAABRU/e1Uzl-SH--Y/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.28.02+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OJMY5fYM3SQ/UWZS2YjvJ4I/AAAAAAAABSI/eVR1-IWcXgw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.59.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OJMY5fYM3SQ/UWZS2YjvJ4I/AAAAAAAABSI/eVR1-IWcXgw/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-10+at+11.59.54+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Birth group mama (who chose to remain anonymous)</b></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<br />
It's very important to educate yourself on natural techniques, such as the ones described. Side effects of medications offered to you in the event that you need them and also things such as delayed cord clamping, skin-to-skin, keeping your placenta for encapsulation or a placenta print, etc. I hope that this helps even a few mothers cope with labor a bit better. My biggest hope is that women make more informed decisions and not be forced into something they aren't comfortable with because their doctor is bullying them. Informed consent is important. Knowledge is power.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zMy6_Ns-GpQ/UWcXI6BJK5I/AAAAAAAABSs/7RcWaICnwyY/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-11+at+2.03.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zMy6_Ns-GpQ/UWcXI6BJK5I/AAAAAAAABSs/7RcWaICnwyY/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-04-11+at+2.03.14+PM.png" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-50049258047941285062013-03-31T09:29:00.000-07:002013-03-31T10:21:54.959-07:00Advocacy & Activism: Why gentle Advice and Guidance is Better Than Fear-Mongering<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Written by: Beckah</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Edited by: Tijana</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Advocacy and activism- You might ask <i>why</i> I am writing this and what is my point in comparing the two? What's good or bad about one or the other? What's the beef? Why the negative connotation? I'll tell you.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">We all know that children don't come with how-to manuals. We all know that people give unsolicited (and unwelcome) advice. "You're holding her wrong." "You're holding him too much, don't spoil him." "He's still breastfed? Time to wean!" "WHY aren't you breastfeeding?" One of mommy's biggest pet peeves, yes? We want to figure it out on our own and when we want to know more, we will search it out by asking a friend or taking to our friend Mr. "Google" with his copious amounts of helpful links. Right?</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The problem with advice given by well-meaning parents or care providers is that it's difficult to determine if they want to push an agenda or are really trying to help you. I call this advocacy versus activism. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">This is solely my experience and my opinion <i>based</i> on my experience. Although they are on the same level in many ways, there is a </span><i style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">huge</i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"> difference between advocacy and activism. Meaning one similarity is that we are all out there, trying to make a difference. On the other hand, advocacy encourages gentle advice, love and encouragement. Putting your information out there at home plate, instead of searching people out. Activism (which I am COMPLETELY guilty of in the past), I have found, is fraught with people driven by fear, resentment and anger. There are many injustices that need to be rectified in this world. They will all be resolved with time and love. Fear-mongering and the pushing of agendas scares people away. Activism is alarmist. Advocacy is gentle, loving and understanding. There is no black and white. There is always space between those lines for a bit of gray.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Advocacy promotes drawing out the circle of influence out through awareness, whereas activism often focuses all attention on negative feedback and attacking instead of reaching an equal solution.</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GRCOqvE6-zg/UVdsDG20OBI/AAAAAAAABJY/URtyfl6ROlc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-03-26+at+7.12.03+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GRCOqvE6-zg/UVdsDG20OBI/AAAAAAAABJY/URtyfl6ROlc/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-03-26+at+7.12.03+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">How do I define an activist vs. advocate?</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q4z6V3xzSGs/UVhesw6kUJI/AAAAAAAABJ0/Un1C3d0lKyo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-03-31+at+10.04.19+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q4z6V3xzSGs/UVhesw6kUJI/AAAAAAAABJ0/Un1C3d0lKyo/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-03-31+at+10.04.19+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">Here is an example of what I mean. Which statements are you more likely to follow along with or ask more about? Which do you think is lactivist and which do you think is breastfeeding advocate?</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><u><b><br /></b></u></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><u><b>Breastmilk and Formula</b></u></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"You're formula feeding? That stuff is POISON! Why didn't you get donor milk? You probably didn't try hard enough to breastfeed."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OR (if you choose to say anything at all)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Don't feel ashamed or feel like a failure. It sounds like you tried your best with the support you had. I know you're a good mom and have your baby's best interest at heart."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And so on and so forth with the rest of the "mommy wars" topics. <i>My</i> position in all of this? I'm an advocate. I do slip up at times when passion takes over and push my beliefs. But it's not who I want to be as far as making changes in the parenting world. I strive to make all options known to parents that are interested in knowing. Nothing is more rewarding than giving advice to someone who asks and hearing a success story or a simple thank you for the gentle and understanding information I've given.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
This is Naturo-Mommy's philosophy: A safe-haven for parents seeking information without fear of criticism or ridicule for choosing differently. Our biggest goal is parents making informed decisions based on reliable data and proof.</span></div>
beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-24548189501006453372013-02-18T00:05:00.001-08:002013-02-18T00:05:51.997-08:00Naturo-Mommy's Monthly WAHM Product Review- Featuring: Baby Monsters Boutique<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S5X0VEzZmuQ/USHR_Ui2hGI/AAAAAAAAAnM/gG06GlMB-3I/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-18+at+12.01.51+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="498" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S5X0VEzZmuQ/USHR_Ui2hGI/AAAAAAAAAnM/gG06GlMB-3I/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-18+at+12.01.51+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Easter Tutu by Baby Monsters Boutique</span></div>
<br />
Thank you for viewing our second monthly WAHM Product Review! We at Naturo-Mommy are thrilled to see that requests to be featured in our monthly WAHM Product Review are coming in. We want to see you on our page and we want to see your business grow!<br />
<br />
This month, we are featuring a BRAND NEW WAHM Product! We are proud to introduce Christina, of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/babymonstersboutique" target="_blank">Baby Monsters Boutique</a>. This little operation started out like many WAHM businesses. It was a hobby for Christina that filled her time and as she made things for her adorable girls.<br />
<br />
Her hobby quickly blossomed into requests from friends and then a full fledged small business venture. Baby Monsters Boutique specializes in <i>adorable</i> tutus and headbands for little girls.<br />
<br />
As you know, when we do reviews at Naturo-Mommy, we have a product sent to us to use for review. We were sent a Patriotic (4th of July) Tutu along with a red crocheted headband with a beautiful fabric flower clip attached.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0GyTooHDFzM/USHX0kCoYNI/AAAAAAAAAno/qI-ZSp2CKiA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-18+at+12.26.27+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0GyTooHDFzM/USHX0kCoYNI/AAAAAAAAAno/qI-ZSp2CKiA/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-18+at+12.26.27+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I received the tutu and headband only 3 days after request. (this was from California to Montana) They were packaged neatly and were undamaged upon opening.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
These accessories were tailored for a little girl and not an adult size, so I decided to have my 3 year old daughter do a little modeling for me.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sulLANyHL3Y/USHZZKh6DYI/AAAAAAAAAok/HBwPKa-yHlA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.43.42+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sulLANyHL3Y/USHZZKh6DYI/AAAAAAAAAok/HBwPKa-yHlA/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.43.42+PM.png" width="358" /></a>My daughter LOVED putting on the tutu and headband. She said she was "a sparkly princess." These were easy to put on, (even for a wriggly 3 year old.) The headband came custom with the fabric flower clip that just slid into the crocheted latices of the headband. Everything was secure, snug and fit perfectly for her size and the age I ordered for.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jEELZdXearI/USHZaQof5CI/AAAAAAAAAo8/kNmAH-Y93J4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.44.09+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PHJNZcftz5M/USHZQY94gKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/K1Pl5j_Lx-Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.44.25+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PHJNZcftz5M/USHZQY94gKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/K1Pl5j_Lx-Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.44.25+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PHJNZcftz5M/USHZQY94gKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/K1Pl5j_Lx-Y/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.44.25+PM.png" width="400" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PHJNZcftz5M/USHZQY94gKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/K1Pl5j_Lx-Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.44.25+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We had loads of fun taking pictures for this review as well. I will show a few more of her (just because she's so darn cute) and move onto the conclusion.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k41H_U2e__E/USHZgtDb3CI/AAAAAAAAApE/QdFsoUoDiNA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.41.53+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k41H_U2e__E/USHZgtDb3CI/AAAAAAAAApE/QdFsoUoDiNA/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.41.53+PM.png" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BecchTygDBY/USHZQuFoBgI/AAAAAAAAAoA/ly--T_jxBeE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.44.38+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BecchTygDBY/USHZQuFoBgI/AAAAAAAAAoA/ly--T_jxBeE/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.44.38+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l6An_nzH9d4/USHZRDGtJqI/AAAAAAAAAoI/-h7Ive8FtXw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.45.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l6An_nzH9d4/USHZRDGtJqI/AAAAAAAAAoI/-h7Ive8FtXw/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.45.05+PM.png" width="476" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KE0lATxk1mA/USHZRUAzmeI/AAAAAAAAAoM/NKkU7CZI8YE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.45.16+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KE0lATxk1mA/USHZRUAzmeI/AAAAAAAAAoM/NKkU7CZI8YE/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.45.16+PM.png" width="528" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U7w30sqtejk/USHZiB-umGI/AAAAAAAAApo/uvb2wubQPYY/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.42.22+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U7w30sqtejk/USHZiB-umGI/AAAAAAAAApo/uvb2wubQPYY/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.42.22+PM.png" width="518" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wm9jocntR1E/USHZiUCrOsI/AAAAAAAAAps/WkJVl0lix40/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.42.31+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wm9jocntR1E/USHZiUCrOsI/AAAAAAAAAps/WkJVl0lix40/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-16+at+1.42.31+PM.png" width="530" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Isn't she a peach? Just love her to death!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Alright! In conclusion, this product is well thought out. Not only can you order tutus, but a headband with accessory. Bonus for moms who want an extra pretty for their little girl! The order was shipped in a timely manner and was undamaged upon opening.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Shipping is INTERNATIONAL with EXACT shipping fees included in the total of the purchase. She welcomes custom orders. <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Orders can be made through their <a href="https://www.facebook.com/babymonstersboutique" target="_blank">Facebook page</a> and email (</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">babymonstersboutique@yahoo.com)</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> until arrangements are made for a larger clientele base.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">For more information on being featured in our monthly review, please email us at naturo_mommy2@yahoo.com or message us on our <a href="https://www.facebook.com/naturomommy" target="_blank">Facebook Page</a>.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-29812891921309025292013-02-07T08:06:00.000-08:002013-02-07T08:26:18.986-08:00Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder- This Means You<br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<div style="font-size: 13px;">
Every woman has her own perception of beauty. But for many, they have the media's perception of what beauty is or what we're told beauty or perfection is. And it starts at a very young age. One web article that comes to mind, written by Lisa Bloom titled <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-bloom/how-to-talk-to-little-gir_b_882510.html" target="_blank">How to Talk to Little Girls</a>, expresses that the media's impression is put upon girls at a young age. Even before the media can REACH them, when adults gush about how beautiful or gorgeous those bows and dresses are on them. One quote from the article: "<i><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; line-height: 20px;">In my book, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Think-Straight-Women-Smart-Dumbed-Down/dp/1593156596/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1308777821&sr=8-1" style="border: none; color: #e61405; cursor: pointer; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; line-height: 20px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_hplink"><span style="border: none; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; line-height: 20px;">, I reveal that 15 to 18 percent of girls under 12 now wear mascara, eyeliner and lipstick regularly; eating disorders are up and self-esteem is down; and 25 percent of young American women would rather win </span><span style="border: none; color: black; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; line-height: 20px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">America's Next Top Model </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; line-height: 20px;">than the Nobel Peace Prize. Even bright, successful college women say they'd rather be hot than smart. A Miami mom just </span><a href="http://www.miamiherald.com/2011/06/14/2266917/woman-dies-during-cosmetic-surgery.html" style="border: none; color: #e61405; cursor: pointer; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; line-height: 20px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_hplink">died</a></i><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; line-height: 20px;"><i> from cosmetic surgery, leaving behind two teenagers.</i>"</span> That's another post in and of itself.</div>
<div style="font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 13px;">
A dear friend of mine, Chelsea, (who has expressed she does not wish to be anonymous) wrote a very touching, raw and truthful post about her struggles with body image, placed on her by the media. One of many victims to society's portrayal of beauty. I learned a thing or two about body image and about myself after reading her heartfelt words. (And I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry while reading them) She's smart, funny, so fun to be around and doesn't take any bull from anybody. She's an amazing mother, daughter, wife and friend.</div>
<div style="font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 13px;">
I can go on for days on this subject, but her words say it all. Hence, why I have only written 2 paragraphs.</div>
<div style="font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nS3qXKkSg6o/URPNALsaehI/AAAAAAAAAjc/tEnaw2JGwM8/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-07+at+8.45.41+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nS3qXKkSg6o/URPNALsaehI/AAAAAAAAAjc/tEnaw2JGwM8/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-02-07+at+8.45.41+AM.png" width="571" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Chelsea,</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">at 18, Senior picture</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
I am a woman. I am 22 years old. I have unruly, naturally brown hair that is subject to change from blonde to purple depending on my mood. My eyes are blue. My complexion is scarred from acne, and constantly reddened by slight rosacea. I am five-foot even and somewhere around 205 pounds—my scale is not accurate, that seems to be the average. My breasts are not the same as before I had children, and neither are my hips; both have been widened and the skin is not firm. Stretch marks line my hips and stomach, which is strong, but not firm. My thighs rub together when I walk and I am constantly on the hunt for a pair of jeans that won’t wear out there for the next few years. It’s a pipe dream. I have no pinky toenail on either of my feet.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
When I was a child, I wasn’t small, except in height. I was bullied by my peers about my weight and acne, among many other factors, to the point that at ten years old, I told my mom I wanted to die. When I was in middle school and high school I struggled with my weight, eating disorders, miracle acne cures and ‘the swimsuit for all body types’. They never seemed to provide one to flatter my body type. I would spend hours in front of my bathroom mirror, praying for the strength to be better, to do better, to eat less and exercise more. I took my pocketknife to my skin. I strived to be perfect, like the models in magazines. Firm stomach, tiny waist, thin arms and thighs. Stop biting your nails. Makeup, makeup, makeup. Cover the imperfections. My entire high school experience was unhappy as I strived for an impossible goal. The worst part was I was too good at acting. Some of my friends noticed the little things. The big things stayed buried so deeply, I didn’t even realize I wanted someone to see them. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
I was lucky. I never hurt myself physically so badly that I was hospitalized or anything. However, so many women aren’t lucky. They get in too deep and can’t get themselves out. This past July, Fiona Geraghty hanged herself in her parent’s home because she was bullied by her own classmates about her weight. She was bulimic. Prior to her death, she was sent for therapy. After only four therapeutic sessions, she was released back into the caustic environment that served to push her to suicide. The average length of an inpatient stay is 83 days. Even that, experts say, is often well below how long many girls need to stay, and is often dictated by money. Imagine that? Less than three months to undo months, sometimes years, of damage to self-esteem.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
When I researched the information about Fiona, I was led to a website. In this heartbreaking article about this beautiful young girl who died as a direct cause to her feeling like nothing because of her body, I found fourteen links to articles where celebrities’ bodies were the main focus—how sexy and skinny and toned they looked; and I only went down as far as the article itself went—about a third of the way down the page. The links went on for much longer. What does that say about our true feelings on the subject? The truth is, it’s like putting a band-aid on when you’ve cut your finger off.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
I have been with my husband for almost five years now. In that time, he has done everything he can to take away the timid, shy, insecure parts of me and teach me how to be strong and confident in not only my body but my actions. Now, I’m not saying that the right man can fix everything—that’s just bullshit, excuse my language. I was just lucky to find someone that could help me be strong enough to face my fears and be better for them. What’s that saying—you can lead the horse to water but you can’t make him drink. My husband convinced me to trade my Vogue and Women’s Health magazines for craft magazines to expand my creativity. He stood behind me in the mirror and showed me how instead of ugly scars that marred my stomach, my stretch marks were symbols of the strength I had inside of me to carry and give birth to our children, and how each one was beautiful. He complimented my strong thighs each time I carried a load of groceries up the 27-step-high staircase to our apartment. He held me close as he whispered how he loved my curves.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
About a year after having my first son, I began to fall back into old habits. It lasted three months before I became pregnant again and my husband voiced his concerns about what he thought he may have been seeing. I vowed, never again. I threw myself into research, looking up ‘how to feel good about yourself’ and the like. Everything looked like those hand-outs you get in Health class about body image. Every body is beautiful, every body is unique and no one is better than anyone else for how they look. Once again, I have to call bullshit. Every girl in those classes rolls their eyes and continues to write notes to their friends about how their female P.E. coach looks like David Hasselhoff. I stayed stagnant on how I felt about myself for about a year. I didn’t like how I looked, but what could I do about it? I joined a gym; that lasted about a month before the insecurities of being in exercise gear and being ‘jiggly’ in front of fit, beautiful, tanned women got the better of me and I retreated with my tail between my legs. Then I ran across a book I’d had for ages, but never really opened, called The Nude: A Study in Ideal Form. There I found Titian’s Venus with the Organ Player. A beautiful, detailed, romantic painting, featuring a woman who by today’s standards would be considered obese. I knew right then that I would make it my goal to look at myself as Titian looked at the women in his paintings.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
From there, I discovered a young woman purely by chance, called Gabi Gregg; a big girl with a big attitude and an even bigger love of fashion. You may recognize her as the ‘fatkini girl’. She’s a size 18 who is proud to show her body and wears what she loves, even if modern-day etiquette claims that she isn’t allowed to. My biggest desire is to have her outlook on how I love my body.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
I walked a long, hard road to get to where I am now. Every day I read a post on Facebook about so-and-so going on another diet, or hear my friend’s 12 year old daughter—12 years old!—say she’s fat as she simply grows from a child’s body to a young woman’s body, or see a commercial about how HCG—which is basically glorified anorexia—can get you that dream body. Our culture is so obsessed with how we look, we will give up our health to be what society says we should be. As women, we starve our bodies to look like prepubescent girls. We take in UV rays, we accept cancer into our bodies so that we can be tan. We spend thousands of dollars to let doctors take knives to our bodies to alter them in surgeries that could kill us. We cake makeup on our faces to look the ideal of perfect when in reality, every man I’ve asked hates it when women wear makeup. Can anyone tell what is wrong with this picture?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
I ask everyone to please, please, consider what I’m writing here. I’m not saying makeup and hair dye and clothes and nail polish are bad. I myself love to play with funky-colored hair and eye-shadow. I love buying new clothes. But there is a severe difference between doing those things for fun, and doing them to play into the media’s hands. Don’t let yourself believe that your only worth is how you look. Don’t let yourself believe that you aren’t worth what she’s worth because she has ‘better’ breasts or a ‘better’ stomach. Don’t even let yourself think, ‘I wish I had her…’ fill in the blank. Don’t judge your value on society’s perception of beautiful. If you have glasses, so what? If you have crooked teeth and they function just fine, you don’t need braces. If you gain weight, then you gain weight. It’s not the end of the world. Every woman is beautiful exactly how she is. I want you to look up pictures online. Use the terms 'real women' and even 'big women' if you're a big girl. You think long and hard and decide which example you want to be.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
Mothers, fathers, please. Teach your daughters that the real worth of a woman is the strength inside her to rise above what anyone says she is incapable of. Her worth is in her capabilities and her love, her compassion. Mothers, if you see a woman on TV, or in the store, or in a magazine don’t ever say ‘I wish I could look like her’. Girls look up to their mothers as the model of perfection inside and out. If you say something negative about your body, your daughter will think that something is wrong with hers. Don’t tell her she’s getting chubby or she needs to cover up a flaw or ‘you’re too big to wear that’. Instead of letting her read fashion magazines and the like, let her explore her individuality by encouraging her to do the things she loves—if she likes horses, get her books about them; if she has an interest in martial arts, let her check out a dojo. Never tell her she doesn’t have the patience or attention to do something she’s interested in. Give your daughter support and love above all else.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
Thank you for reading my little rant. This is not everything I have to say on the subject, but all that I could think of in such a short time span. Please take what I have to say to heart. Check out the links. Look up pictures. Find your own role models, based on what they stand for. And above all else, never ever let someone else dictate how you should love yourself.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
Sources:</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.dailymail.co.uk%2Fnews%2Farticle-2162187%2FFashion-magazines-blame-suicide-public-schoolgirl-taunted-weight-hanged-says-coroner.html&h=DAQH1gaQx" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2162187/Fashion-magazines-blame-suicide-public-schoolgirl-taunted-weight-hanged-says-coroner.html</a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.blog.drsarahravin.com/eating-disorders/10-common-mistakes-in-eating-disorder-treatment/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.blog.drsarahravin.com/eating-disorders/10-common-mistakes-in-eating-disorder-treatment/</a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.state.sc.us%2Fdmh%2Fanorexia%2Fstatistics.htm&h=uAQE2yCxs&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.state.sc.us/dmh/anorexia/statistics.htm</a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.shafe.co.uk/art/Titian_Venus_with_Organist.asp" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.shafe.co.uk/art/Titian_Venus_with_Organist.asp</a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gabifresh.com%2F&h=QAQEtAKrv&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.gabifresh.com/</a></div>
beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-56995487399550544482013-01-08T22:00:00.002-08:002013-01-08T22:05:17.061-08:00Very First WAHM Product Review: Paperless Coloring Book!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We are proud to announce that we are launching a monthly Work At Home Mom product review. If you have items you repurpose or make to sell, please send Naturo-Mommy one to try so we can give you a good review and you build your reputation!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
For our first product review, we are featuring Nix the Paper's pocket sized paperless coloring book specially made to save paper and save your walls from being colored on when the kiddos run out of paper to color on. *thumbs up!* If you go to their <a href="http://nixthepaper.webs.com/" target="_blank">website</a> or <a href="https://www.facebook.com/NixThePaper?fref=ts" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>, you can see the selection of fabrics you can choose from for your coloring book. I chose this awesome rockstar fabric. These coloring books also come in a standard coloring book size, for a fair price!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Okay, so this is the beautiful book that was sent to Naturo-Mommy owner. It has a snap clasp to keep it closed and an elastic strip for easy and convenient carrying.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eHZXTg7FylU/UOy4pOs7M3I/AAAAAAAAAhE/xdVt9puUqKg/s1600/CIMG8404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eHZXTg7FylU/UOy4pOs7M3I/AAAAAAAAAhE/xdVt9puUqKg/s640/CIMG8404.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This size comes with 3 oil pastel crayons that come out of fabric and off of walls with an easy wipe, if your child gets more "creative." It also comes with a surged square of terry to wipe the pages clean once you or your child are ready to start over on the pages.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zsarnB3RETM/UOy4pfl8owI/AAAAAAAAAhI/NNZsX3HqNBo/s1600/CIMG8405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zsarnB3RETM/UOy4pfl8owI/AAAAAAAAAhI/NNZsX3HqNBo/s640/CIMG8405.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The pages are made out of chalkboard fabric, that is surged to prevent fraying. This book comes with three pages. The larger size comes with more pages and more crayons. You can see how clean and wonderfully the crayons draw onto the fabric.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o7WzR1Pgw-g/UOy4pSgvrgI/AAAAAAAAAhM/RTW8drv5MlM/s1600/CIMG8406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o7WzR1Pgw-g/UOy4pSgvrgI/AAAAAAAAAhM/RTW8drv5MlM/s640/CIMG8406.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Wiping down the fabric with the terry....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dHU6lNEo6YQ/UOy4p7JoMwI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/tktcfMXeUds/s1600/CIMG8407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dHU6lNEo6YQ/UOy4p7JoMwI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/tktcfMXeUds/s640/CIMG8407.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
Perfectly clean! Good as new! You can see on the left side of the book it has a fabric pocket to hold the crayons and cleaning cloth for safe keeping as well.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y2e8iBSOHiA/UOy7nKDRLZI/AAAAAAAAAi4/QCef2U6ARSc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-01-08+at+5.36.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="470" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y2e8iBSOHiA/UOy7nKDRLZI/AAAAAAAAAi4/QCef2U6ARSc/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-01-08+at+5.36.14+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
My daughter is 3 and absolutely LOVED this book! When I tried it out, she was extremely jealous that I was coloring and not her. She loved that she could start over whenever she wanted with a quick wipe of the terry cloth. (you can see my son's hand coming into the picture. He wanted that crayon!)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t3M4A93vock/UOy40IKiJ9I/AAAAAAAAAhg/XBEo77r5LhE/s1600/CIMG8410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t3M4A93vock/UOy40IKiJ9I/AAAAAAAAAhg/XBEo77r5LhE/s640/CIMG8410.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Loving drawing with this new book!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ThmappnKkn0/UOy5XcFETKI/AAAAAAAAAh8/5TD2ni05vPw/s1600/CIMG8409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ThmappnKkn0/UOy5XcFETKI/AAAAAAAAAh8/5TD2ni05vPw/s640/CIMG8409.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I think we have a satisfied "customer" on our hands. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fVO86vYxDJs/UOy7RXAcmxI/AAAAAAAAAig/efWVk3YcVpQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-01-08+at+5.34.53+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fVO86vYxDJs/UOy7RXAcmxI/AAAAAAAAAig/efWVk3YcVpQ/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-01-08+at+5.34.53+PM.png" width="478" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Conclusion: Overall, this product is well thought out, cute and fun. I was happy with how easily it could be cleaned with the cloth. It IS machine washable if absolutely needed. It is not recommended to continuously machine wash it, as it won't last as long. I ordered one for my 2 year-old niece for a stocking stuffer at xmas and she's in love with it!<br />
<br />
Please check out Nix The Paper's other products on their website and Facebook page! I can guarantee satisfaction.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
For more information on being featured in our monthly review, please email us at naturo_mommy2@yahoo.com or message us on our <a href="https://www.facebook.com/naturomommy" target="_blank">Facebook Page!</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-7981839177503512242013-01-05T21:52:00.002-08:002013-01-06T09:27:29.252-08:00A Lot More Than A Nurse-In!What started out as a peaceful day, mall-shopping with her family, turned into an unpleasant encounter after Brittany Warfield started feeding her baby from her breast on December 27th. She was covered, hiding any possible skin from view. A manager from a Hollister Co. store came out of the store, yelling at her to stop and move and that she "couldn't do that there." After informing him of the laws, he told her to move because of her stroller, which he claimed was blocking the entrance. (and it wasn't)<br />
<br />
Today, there was a nationwide nurse-in(even extending into Canada!), of all the Hollister stores within malls. At 3PM, women all over the United States and part of Canada plopped down beside Hollister entrances and breastfed their babies. It wasn't so cut and dry for all of the locations that held nurse-ins, though.<br />
<br />
In Concord Mall of Wilmington, Delaware, there were 3 mothers that were approached by mall security, telling them that what they were doing was indecent exposure and that "if they exposed themselves again, they would be removed." A cop showed up, asking if there was any problem. He left without issuing any citation because the laws states that they could breastfeed anywhere they were permitted to be, which the security guards were not educated on.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(left officer, middle Jessica Hitchens, right, mall security)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kI_Q067yn50/UOkIg3hKT-I/AAAAAAAAAdk/66cD78615o8/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+2.53.08+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kI_Q067yn50/UOkIg3hKT-I/AAAAAAAAAdk/66cD78615o8/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+2.53.08+PM.png" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
After all was said and done, no one was written tickets, no one had to leave. But it still had to be said that these women were harassed! Since these nurse-ins formulated from one <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/191004591024062/?__req=4h" target="_blank">Facebook event page</a>, this incident was reported right back to the page. The mall's Facebook Business page was pulled up and a few mothers (myself included) wrote our thoughts down on their wall. I was able to get screenshots of what was said by one mother and what the mall then responded with.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(one mother wrote on their wall, mall responds and I write a comment) photo property of Naturo-Mommy</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KVHfngQRcJY/UOkMi_3csaI/AAAAAAAAAeA/ifG23m7G6FQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+2.56.00+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KVHfngQRcJY/UOkMi_3csaI/AAAAAAAAAeA/ifG23m7G6FQ/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+2.56.00+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Only 4 minutes later, Michelle, the mother that posted, captured this photo of all the comments before they started getting deleted by Concord Mall. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo credit and property of Michelle DeanRuben</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zcFUUMGCCEU/UOmzxOt-AoI/AAAAAAAAAfY/U_S4xfKVsec/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-01-06+at+10.23.45+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zcFUUMGCCEU/UOmzxOt-AoI/AAAAAAAAAfY/U_S4xfKVsec/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-01-06+at+10.23.45+AM.png" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The person in charge of the mall's Facebook page then starts writing expletives, shocking hundreds of people, after seeing it saying, "It was an eyesore" and "Hope you guys don't mind if I suck my wife's breast in public."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bmOaCkJu5bU/UOkMkpFaydI/AAAAAAAAAeI/2CFdhlW8rDo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+2.59.52+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bmOaCkJu5bU/UOkMkpFaydI/AAAAAAAAAeI/2CFdhlW8rDo/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+2.59.52+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
These actions were not only distasteful and uneducated, but they were downright unprofessional. Being labelled a non-breastfeeding friendly establishment is not a good thing! After this fiasco, the mall deletes their Facebook page and insists that there never <i>was</i> a Facebook page, despite proof of there being one and having a widget on their website <i>for</i> their Facebook page.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo courtesy of Rachelle Lesteshen</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XonhxpTN9fw/UOkOWWIlatI/AAAAAAAAAfA/QNeHZxo1-GE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+10.40.15+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XonhxpTN9fw/UOkOWWIlatI/AAAAAAAAAfA/QNeHZxo1-GE/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-01-05+at+10.40.15+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Now there is most likely to be another nurse-in <i>for</i> the mall instead of that Hollister store because they were not educated on laws, had no policies in place to protect breastfeeding mothers, they insisted these women be punished by being given citations for indecent exposure, there was no apology and when the incident came to light and the mall saw, they not only did not apologize, they made lewd, uneducated comments about their wife's breast and the act of feeding children. Concord Mall of Wilmington, DE, we wouldn't be so upset if you would educate your staff and be professional and if you wouldn't lie and try to cover it up.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Even if you lose a bit of face, people will respect you again if you apologize and right this horrible wrong.</div>
beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-87238638688137824142012-11-11T10:47:00.002-08:002012-11-12T09:17:45.402-08:00Breastfeeding in the Holiday Season: TEN WAYS to Eliminate, Educate & Elude Confrontation<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mvnIVr0rksU/UJ_qDUVXyrI/AAAAAAAAAas/rez5gFcYdQk/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-11-11+at+11.09.39+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="353" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mvnIVr0rksU/UJ_qDUVXyrI/AAAAAAAAAas/rez5gFcYdQk/s400/Screen+Shot+2012-11-11+at+11.09.39+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>Photo courtesy of www.lactivist.co.uk</b></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-grEaKpRytwc/UJ_wSrWdzAI/AAAAAAAAAbA/xTaBlWtVZAw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-11-11+at+11.35.41+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-grEaKpRytwc/UJ_wSrWdzAI/AAAAAAAAAbA/xTaBlWtVZAw/s320/Screen+Shot+2012-11-11+at+11.35.41+AM.png" width="293" /></a></div>
The holidays are a wonderful time to get together with family and friends. The warmth and cheer and the good food are enough to fill a person's heart with contentment to advance into the next year in a good way. I, for one love Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. And for those that don't celebrate these holidays, there is Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Ashura, among many others. Breastfeeding can be daunting in and of itself. A lot of women don't have the courage to do it in public, around strangers. Breastfeeding around family members who are unsupportive or unfamiliar with it can be even <i>more</i> daunting. One reason being, that you know them and you have to face them on a regular basis. Or, at least, once a year.<br />
<br />
You may be confronted by family members with rude comments or dirty looks and feel the need to leave the room to avoid these confrontations. If you feel most comfortable being in another room, by all means, do what you feel suits you best. But for a lot of breastfeeding mothers, they may not want to leave the room and miss the festivities. Which, in a lot of cases, you may be there longer than one feed for your baby or child and this can cause a lot of missed time with family and friends.<br />
<br />
If you feel you may be confronted at these gatherings, there are many ways to go about avoiding them or standing up for yourself and your baby to make your holiday stress free and family friendly. I have asked some mothers to share their experiences, breastfeeding during the holidays. Here are a few:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hOA30quqld0/UJ_xC710TfI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ED7O8p5z1yM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-11-11+at+11.39.32+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hOA30quqld0/UJ_xC710TfI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ED7O8p5z1yM/s320/Screen+Shot+2012-11-11+at+11.39.32+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<b>Jessica writes</b>:<br />
'My youngest son was born in March, so by the time Thanksgiving came around<br />
that year, he had already passed the "recommended" '6 month cut off'. I had never been shy about nursing in public, and<br />
my family knew that well. I would proudly lift my shirt anywhere and<br />
everywhere. Thanksgiving that year, I'm at my aunts house, trying to eat my<br />
food, get my then 3 year old to eat anything I could get him to try, and my<br />
8 month old was hungry.<br />
<br />
I put him in the ring sling and situate it so no one could really see anything other than his<br />
head, just out of respect for it not being my home. My uncle got up and left, came back<br />
and grabbed his children. That made other family members take notice and they all got up<br />
and left. Then designated my aunt to come in and tell me how inappropriate<br />
that was to "whip out a tit" at the family table. And how no one felt<br />
comfortable eating in the same room as me, if I could please go eat alone,<br />
in another room. I smiled and said no, and continued eating. After that, I<br />
didn't speak to anyone. I made an extra plate to take home and packed up<br />
and left.<br />
<br />
By Christmas I thought it was settled. We arrived at Christmas dinner though, and<br />
the <i>first</i> thing out of their mouths was asking if I brought a bottle so I wouldn't flash people<br />
again.<br />
<br />
I wish I could say that my story has a happy ending, but it never happened. I went on<br />
to breastfeed my son fora total of 29 months. My family is still very unsupportive of<br />
breastfeeding but I don't let it bother me, and I have no plan on adjusting my "behavior" for<br />
their needs, as my job is to fulfill my child's needs.'<br />
<br />
<b>Lisa says</b>: '"You're STILL breastfeeding? Isn't he going to become too dependent on you?! (said of my then 1.5 yr old)…"'<br />
<br />
<b>Jennifer writes: </b>"My husband’s parents came up for a belated Christmas this past January. At the time, my daughter was 5.5 months old and still exclusively breast fed. I didn’t think anything of nursing her in the living room with my in-laws in the room. Apparently, this made the step dad uncomfortable, but we didn’t know that until a couple days later when my husband's mom called to tell him. They expected me to go into another room to nurse my baby, in my own house. My husband was appropriately outraged, as was I. His mom even went so far as to say, and I quote, “I don’t appreciate her whipping out her breast in front of my husband.” As though I was trying to seduce a man twice my age by feeding my baby. Since then, the relationship has been strained, at best. It’s unfortunate that people are so narrow minded and prudish about the act of breastfeeding, but I refuse to alter the way I feed my children simply for someone else’s comfort, especially within the walls of my own home. I’m still breastfeeding my daughter, now 15 months old, and I don’t plan to stop anytime soon."<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>
There is also attire you can wear, so that if it's not practical or comfortable to cover, you can go uncovered without showing much. When in public, I do not cover because we are not comfortable that way. I wear a tank top under a shirt and pull up the t-shirt and pull down the tank top. Of course, there is nursing attire, but if you're on a tight budget, like me, you work with what you have. There is often little to nothing shown when I use the shirt-tank method and we're both happy that way.<br />
<br />
<br />
While these situations are often unavoidable, there are ways to diffuse them. Here is a list of 10 things you can do or say, if you are comfortable:<br />
<br />
<b>1.</b> Using a cover is always an option, if you and baby are comfortable.<br />
<b>2.</b> You may use this time to educate family members or friends. Just a short blurb about the benefits of exclusively breastfeeding or extended breastfeeding.<br />
<b>3.</b> You may say things like "That sounds like it worked out for your children, but this is what works for our children and we are happy."<br />
<b>4.</b> Get the support of another family member or your spouse beforehand to intervene, so you have an advocate.<br />
<b>5.</b> Laugh and make a joke about how you promise not to wave your nipple like the breastfeeding banner without a child attached.<br />
<b>6.</b> If they mention that there are children in the room & they don't know what to tell them, offer to explain to the children what is happening so the parents don't have to try to answer their questions.<br />
<b>7.</b> When talking about breastfeeding, remember to smile and sound light hearted. Hopefully, putting off the defensive stance your family member or friend may have.<br />
<b>8.</b> If you're asked why you haven't put it in a bottle, explain that you (and these are just examples) a) can't pump b) baby won't take a bottle c) you couldn't pump enough for baby for the holiday gathering d) you forgot your pumped milk<br />
<b>9.</b> If they offer solids, say that you're worried about an allergy or tell them that it is not recommended by AAP or WHO to introduce solids before "X" months or that they can't have (insert name of food) until "X" age.<br />
<b>10.</b> Your baby may have teeth and this also may prompt comments about solids: "Your baby should be eating food since he has teeth." "You're breastfeeding AGAIN? Here, give him this." You could say: "No thank you, we haven't introduced that into his diet yet."<br />
<br />
I hope that giving these examples and experiences have helped you go into your holiday season a little less stressed and more confident in your choice to breastfeed your baby. Happy Holidays!beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-88688293185888670552012-10-04T07:26:00.000-07:002012-10-10T15:56:27.978-07:00Best For Babes Creates a "911" for Nursing Mothers!Best For Babes Foundation has created a hotline for women who breastfeed in public, who happen to get harassed in some way by a business owner or manager, or are in some way not protected by law. When you call the hotline, the incident is recorded with detail and dates. This hotline is necessary, because some women just don't have the support to have the big voice to change things that need changed. Another is so there is recorded proof of incidents for businesses that have caused breastfeeding mothers grief and for legislators to change state laws (like in Idaho and Georgia). Let's not forget the working mom, who may need to pump at work! I have heard countless stories of mothers not provided a place to pump because law does not require it. A friend of mine is still in high school and is breastfeeding. She needs to pump during school hours, but is afraid that her need to pump will result in resistence from teachers, as she had trouble even getting her assignments when she was on bed rest during her junior year in high school. Every breastfeeding mother needs to have this number in her phone, so she knows she has support and will be heard. This is a nursing mom's 911!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sZNqhqXIKSA/UG2agRVtTMI/AAAAAAAAAYA/XuIa3Nt2PYE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-10-03+at+11.00.39+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sZNqhqXIKSA/UG2agRVtTMI/AAAAAAAAAYA/XuIa3Nt2PYE/s640/Screen+Shot+2012-10-03+at+11.00.39+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
http://www.bestforbabes.org/announcing-1-855-nip-free-the-best-for-babes-nursing-in-public-harassment-hotline<br />
<br />
Above is a link to information on the new hotline. Check it out, pass this along. Too many women stop breastfeeding or won't attempt to, due to harassment and lack of laws protecting their RIGHT to feed their babies the way nature intended. Please get this out there.<br />
<br />
<b>UPDATE!</b><br />
Best For Babes launched their hotline last week. Since the launch, they have received several phone calls, reporting their experiences. This is NOT a made up problem. Women don't go "looking for" negative attention when they feed their babies in public. Women have a voice now, through BfB. There is strength in numbers and we all need to work together to normalize breastfeeding. Here is a link to their progress with the hotline after just one week:<br />
http://www.bestforbabes.org/nip-hotline-news-8-harassment-incidences-in-first-weekbeckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-33198797522485759612012-09-29T06:02:00.001-07:002012-09-29T06:10:37.213-07:00Gluten Free, Wallet Friendly Breakfast Ideas!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lz51H08vfWs/UGbzRnu8izI/AAAAAAAAAXY/X-CZyb6Hxfs/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-09-29+at+7.09.33+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lz51H08vfWs/UGbzRnu8izI/AAAAAAAAAXY/X-CZyb6Hxfs/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-09-29+at+7.09.33+AM.png" /></a></div>
<br />
Alot of people I know are pretty crunchy and are going gluten free or have been for years! This is for people like me, who <i>want</i> to be gluten free, but are finding it expensive or hard to do. Gluten is in <i>tons </i>of things you wouldn't even think about! So I asked a few friends to help me collect some ideas for breakfast since it's the "most important meal of the day." You really want the breakfast of champions, don't you? *wink*<br />
<br />
Let's get started:<br />
3/4 cup Oatmeal with 1/2 of a cut up fruit or a handful of berries<br />
<br />
Eggs (yum!) Some are not fans of eggs and if you're vegan, of course, this isn't an option. ;)<br />
<br />
Sheep herder potatoes (<a href="http://www.ifood.tv/recipe/sheepherder-potatoes" target="_blank">recipe</a>) You can use whatever meat you want(or no meat)<br />
<br />
Frittata! Throw last night's leftover veggies into the pan with some eggs and cook to your preference.<br />
<br />
Muffins! I like blueberries myself. (<a href="http://www.celiac.com/articles/22548/1/Blueberry-Muffins-Gluten-Free/Page1.html" target="_blank">recipe</a>)<br />
<br />
Everybody loves pancakes and if you don't, you're crazy! (<a href="http://glutenfreeonashoestring.com/gluten-free-pancakes-hold-the-xanthan-gum/" target="_blank">recipe</a>) I love peanut butter on mine. There are always all natural peanut butters out there, if that's what you like. Go to whole foods stores. Good choices :)<br />
<br />
Raw milk! Can't go wrong there. I have a few friends that have this as a major staple in their diet. It CAN get a bit on the spendy side. I think $3-4 for half a gallon? But you're getting fuller with it, so it's worth it.<br />
<br />
I've heard lots of good things about bean bread! A friend showed me this <a href="http://mainmainmasakmasak.wordpress.com/2008/11/01/improved-recipe-for-gluten-free-yeast-free-bean-bread/" target="_blank">recipe</a>.<br />
<br />
Fruit smoothies! Throw your favorite fruits in with your choice of milk, protein, & blend it up!<br />
<br />
Egg muffins (<a href="http://www.kalynskitchen.com/2006/10/egg-muffins-revisited-again.html" target="_blank">recipe</a>) Easy to make, easy to throw in the freezer for a fast breakfast the next morning!<br />
<br />
Midmorning snack! White bean vanilla cake (<a href="http://www.facebook.com/note.php?saved&&note_id=350095295082369&id=210696489022251" target="_blank">recipe</a>)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
If you have any breakfast ideas you'd like to send in, I will include them in this post with a shoutout to you. :)beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-59236227075589066052012-09-24T16:12:00.003-07:002012-09-24T16:12:29.651-07:00Having Dreadlocks is a LIFESTYLE! Here's Mine...So it's been almost a month since I decided to dread my hair. I used the twist and rip method. Didn't use any products and stopped shampooing my hair (I use the <a href="http://www.instructables.com/id/How-to-Go-No-Poo/" target="_blank">no poo method</a>)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is 2 hours after I started twisting and ripping. It took a long time, as I had to wait for the kids to either be taking a nap or in bed for the night.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i2YPGKnyRWQ/UGDUKQE3JcI/AAAAAAAAARY/lL-1uI2OCOw/s1600/CIMG7150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i2YPGKnyRWQ/UGDUKQE3JcI/AAAAAAAAARY/lL-1uI2OCOw/s640/CIMG7150.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A fan asked me how "one would put dreadlocks in their hair", so I made this tutorial...</div>
<object class="BLOGGER-picasa-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-joeLtc0QXR4/UGDZhGfs1lI/AAAAAAAAAUo/5xWpq5SoyEQ/s1600/Movie%2Bon%2B8-29-12%2Bat%2B12.34%2BPM.mov" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fredirector.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D3bbdc8d04caa5f8c%26itag%3D18%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1351116421%26sparams%3Did%2Citag%2Csource%2Cip%2Cipbits%2Cexpire%26signature%3DA0C395C02C25D3D7822FD85BFE8BF055DB0A270C.885C9CA95C287808FF0C629AF653B07F754EA85E%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fredirector.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D3bbdc8d04caa5f8c%26itag%3D18%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1351116421%26sparams%3Did%2Citag%2Csource%2Cip%2Cipbits%2Cexpire%26signature%3DA0C395C02C25D3D7822FD85BFE8BF055DB0A270C.885C9CA95C287808FF0C629AF653B07F754EA85E%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
All done! I left out my bangs, so I could do more with my dreads.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rkffFEjr7ro/UGDUed7_VHI/AAAAAAAAARg/ag7vhoiUy6k/s1600/dreads+done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rkffFEjr7ro/UGDUed7_VHI/AAAAAAAAARg/ag7vhoiUy6k/s640/dreads+done.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
One week old dreadlocks! (yes, this is my weirdo smile)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hLp2qH8ft5w/UGDapzaF71I/AAAAAAAAAUs/jtNeTkc7iLs/s1600/Photo+on+8-30-12+at+8.01+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="347" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hLp2qH8ft5w/UGDapzaF71I/AAAAAAAAAUs/jtNeTkc7iLs/s400/Photo+on+8-30-12+at+8.01+AM.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Yay! Two week dreadiversary! It hasn't been all rainbows and unicorns in dread-land. The transition from using shampoo to just using baking soda and apple cider vinegar for my hair left it feeling oily and it was hell trying to ignore it. I almost took my dreads out to escape the way my scalp felt.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qXWPJZ1fzyk/UGDf9l1g-tI/AAAAAAAAAV8/BNTVXGsHMOA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-09-24+at+4.34.04+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="620" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qXWPJZ1fzyk/UGDf9l1g-tI/AAAAAAAAAV8/BNTVXGsHMOA/s640/Screen+Shot+2012-09-24+at+4.34.04+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, that IS an awkward empty spot on the back of my head. The downfall to having done my dreads by myself.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uT1PS7n4Zbs/UGDaq8GfpqI/AAAAAAAAAU0/auCkw5RyOGo/s1600/CIMG7167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uT1PS7n4Zbs/UGDaq8GfpqI/AAAAAAAAAU0/auCkw5RyOGo/s640/CIMG7167.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Three weeks into the dread life and going strong! My hair has almost fully transitioned and is starting to lock up. I had bands in the bottoms of them because I was paranoid that they would unravel. I cut up an old t-shirt to sort of wrap my hair to keep it out of my face instead of using a ponytail, which was pulling hairs out of my dreads and would leave them bent from being restrained.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aSqHPDte2Ug/UGDar5WizTI/AAAAAAAAAVM/p29xHPhATnc/s1600/Photo+on+9-18-12+at+3.35+PM+%233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aSqHPDte2Ug/UGDar5WizTI/AAAAAAAAAVM/p29xHPhATnc/s640/Photo+on+9-18-12+at+3.35+PM+%233.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dhM-gwRc79A/UGDasY5U7NI/AAAAAAAAAVU/EdNXtnbJ9ko/s1600/Photo+on+9-18-12+at+9.28+PM+%232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dhM-gwRc79A/UGDasY5U7NI/AAAAAAAAAVU/EdNXtnbJ9ko/s640/Photo+on+9-18-12+at+9.28+PM+%232.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wbm1mXrE-54/UGDas8NqBCI/AAAAAAAAAVc/BWbV2Q5kAWg/s1600/Photo+on+9-20-12+at+9.46+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="604" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wbm1mXrE-54/UGDas8NqBCI/AAAAAAAAAVc/BWbV2Q5kAWg/s640/Photo+on+9-20-12+at+9.46+PM.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Some advice for those of you who want to dread your hair: There are a few ways to dread your hair.<br />
1) Back comb<br />
2) Neglect<br />
3) Palm roll<br />
4) Twist and rip<br />
<br />
I used twist and rip. I almost wish I had done neglect. Although it does take a little longer for them to lock up and gather into dreads, I've encountered many people who have done neglect, where their dreads are smaller, which is what I would have liked for my thinning hair (just had a baby 10 months ago and my hair was falling out like crazy!). Do not use regular shampoos! You need a residue free shampoo or you can us baking soda and ACV. I've also heard some good things about Dr. Bronner's soap. Another thing: Never EVER use wax. I don't care what Knotty Boy tells you, you don't need to buy products to be successful at dreading your hair. Good luck and I hope you enjoyed this post! I look forward to posting updates on my dreads! *thumbs up*<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span id="goog_1914227034"></span><span id="goog_1914227035"></span><br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-32575107938606310452012-08-19T23:51:00.000-07:002012-10-29T11:39:04.242-07:00You're A Section, A Number (To Him, That Is)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9MDjuC8J0uk/UCZjzmyV7YI/AAAAAAAAAQk/1Ag34CCmvB4/s1600/birth+risk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9MDjuC8J0uk/UCZjzmyV7YI/AAAAAAAAAQk/1Ag34CCmvB4/s640/birth+risk.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">photo courtesy of www.improvingbirth.org</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<br />
<div>
<br />
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
There is a lot wrong with today's maternal healthcare. Things that should have nothing to do with bringing our babies into this world. Birth rape, abuse, lies, blame, humiliation. Just to name a few. Everyday, birthing women and new mothers are made to feel inferior and minuscule. Too many women go into pregnancy uneducated, naive and scared. They believe doctors are God and what they say goes, wether you like it or not. Against your will and you don't think you should refuse because there is a baby involved in the decision.</div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
Pull the dead baby card and mom will submit to anything you want. Give a woman inaccurate statistics for the benefit of your agenda and you have a willing participant of whatever you want to do to her. Make her feelings invalid, you have a patient that's afraid to protest your orders. Here's a story of a momma that admits she could have avoided c-section, had she been more informed of her rights and about birth.</div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
My first pregnancy I was pretty naive (even with my 2nd), and had no idea what I should ask, and even asked what I should be asking. Most of my appointments I was just checked, got a lot of ultrasounds and pictures, and was told "Ok see you next time!". I had mentioned once that I wanted to see about a water birth, but was told "Only whales birth in the water". When I woke up December 20, 2005 at a little past 5 am, I was so uncomfortable, and couldn't get back to sleep no matter what I tried.</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
<br />
My significant other had work that day, and I told him to go ahead and go, if anything happens I would call him. I went to my Grandmother's house while he was at work, just in case. The entire day I couldn't sit, stand, lay down, nothing! My back hurt and I was exhausted. Finally around 630 pm I called my SO and told him to meet me at the hospital, because things weren't changing. </div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
<br />
When I got to the hospital, I was wheeled into a room, layed down, and immediately hooked up to machines and an IV. There were so many "nurses" and a couple "drs" in the room. They were waiting for the on call dr from my dr's office to get there. I was given something to help "move things along". "Drs" and "nurses" were in and out, and I dont know how many times I was given just "a little bit more" of whatever to "get things moving". My SO got there and as soon as he walked in the door, I said "I think my water just broke". I vaguely remember feeling like a water balloon popped. I don't remember exactly how much time was passing, or how quickly things were going. I just remember not knowing what was going on, I was scared, and I was in pain. </div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
<br />
I was asked if I wanted an epideral, and I remember declining, but the pain wasnt going away and I was so tired, so I caved. I remember having the urge to either push or poop. I think I did both LOL My dr came and he was in and out, he checked me a couple times, but never really stayed in the room longer than to look at the machines, and check to see how I was progressing. Then at around 2 am, December 21st, I was told we had to have an emergency c/s because the baby's heart rate was not good. </div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
<br />
I was wheeled into the surgery room, lifted onto the bed, and I remember hearing my dr INSTRUCT the surgery! "No dont cut like that, cut like this" - Heard that a couple times. "No we have to stitch like this, not like that". I wanted to scream, I wanted to say "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" I couldn't do anything! I could barely do more than look at my SO and cry! </div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
<br />
I remember looking at him and thinking "Please help me!" He just looked at me, caressed my head, and said "It's ok. Everything is ok." I remember feeling every slice, every pull. I felt like my abdomen was on fire! I felt them pull on my baby like she was stuck. Right after everything was done, my doctor just left. </div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
<br />
Over the next few days, the in house pediatrician tried talking to me, nurses tried talking to me, the "LC" tried talking to me. I couldn't comprehend ANYTHING anyone was trying to tell me! The only thing I remember being told in the hospital was that I would never be able to EBF a baby bc I didn't have all my milk ducts. She could "tell" bc the underside of my breasts are/were flat. So I "had" to supplement. Not to mention, my baby was losing weight on just breast milk. I was under the impression she wasnt getting enough, so I let them supplement. </div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-size: 16px;">
<br />
But even after all of this, I should have just felt happy because I had a healthy 7 lb 13 oz baby girl. It wasn't until after 3 months a friend's mom told me that the hospital I was to use was a "learning" hospital, and most the "nurses" and "Drs" there were students, or brand new looking for a guinea pig. I was also informed that that dr I had on call pushed for c/s. I, also, later found out from a different dr who I went to when I was pg for #2, that he pawned of his deliveries. She stopped working with him bc he always pawned them on her. He didn't like delivering naturally, *he* preferred c/s.</div>
</div>
</div>
beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-7840260418867196892012-07-10T22:43:00.002-07:002013-04-13T11:39:20.347-07:00Forcible Retraction on an Intact Male Infant/Child: Don't Let It Happen To Your Son!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2vKeUaKnYxk/T_0S3aIlj5I/AAAAAAAAAPg/2w--uvTXOAU/s1600/CIMG6703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2vKeUaKnYxk/T_0S3aIlj5I/AAAAAAAAAPg/2w--uvTXOAU/s320/CIMG6703.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">my poor sick bug</span></div>
<br />
My youngest child(7 months old), "L" has had a fever the last 3 days. I became very worried when it spiked this morning to 105.5 degrees fahrenheit. After a dose of Tylenol, I took him in to the Emergency Room, like many concerned parents would do. They took his temperature, which had dropped to 103. Still, the previous temperature had us very worried. We waited for them to get everything together to get urine and blood. I was told that using a catheter to catch his urine would be best because "the extra skin cells(his foreskin) would affect the test results and contaminate the culture".<br />
<br />
I gave consent, and they go ahead with the procedure. I was horrified as the nurse pulled his skin back to reveal his little "head". She wasn't gentle with inserting the catheter, either. The nurse kept jamming it, trying to get it into his bladder, but the catheter was too big. L started crying even before the catheter because his foreskin started bleeding. And he was screaming bloody murder he was in so much pain. I felt sick to my stomach and started crying. My 5.5 year old son was with me and was alarmed at how much pain his little brother was in. He started crying as well. I then started shaking in anger, because the nurse persisted with her jabbing the catheter with force that shouldn't be used on ANYONE that is having something foreign put into their body and not paying attention to him bleeding.<br />
<br />
I fought such an internal battle of telling her to stop, but feared being ridiculed. I finally told her I wanted them to use a bag to catch his urine instead. "Oh no, I'll have someone else try to do it. I just can't get it past his urethra," she said dismissing my comment.<br />
<br />
As she left, the attending doctor came back to see my son and her jaw fell open as she surveilled the scene in the room. My puffy, teary eyes, my screaming infant son with a catheter hanging out of him and my older son, crying in a chair off to the side. She removed the catheter and had me put my son to the breast to calm him. The doctor gingerly put a urine bag over his penis and put a diaper on him, apologized and informed me of the blood test results, which showed he was fighting an infection, possibly a urinary tract infection and that he would need antibiotics.<br />
<br />
His urine tested positive for infection as well. He received a 24 hour antibiotic shot and we were released with a script for his medicine. I feel horrible for not knowing to advocate my son's needs. I feel guilty for not telling them to not use a catheter on him. I feel like a bad mom for allowing that stupid nurse to forcibly retract his foreskin. I am writing a letter of complaint to the hospital and asking them to educate their staff on how to care for intact boys. Never ever forcibly retract a boy's foreskin. Here are some links I am providing in my letter to the hospital, so more people can be educated and advocate for their children. Information is power, and our voice is important, because our children don't have one yet.<br />
<br />
http://www.nocirc.org/publish/pamphlet6.html<br />
http://www.thewholenetwork.org/14/post/2011/8/forced-retraction.html<br />
http://www.thewholenetwork.org/14/post/2011/08/assistance-to-families-with-forcibly-retracted-sons.html<br />
http://www.drmomma.org/2009/12/forced-retraction-what-now.html<br />
<br />
If there are more links you would like me to include or write about, please email them to me at allthingsmommy2@yahoo.com or post on my Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/allthingsmommybeckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-711768734303676742012-06-25T06:48:00.003-07:002012-06-25T07:08:26.793-07:00Submission in the Household: Domestic Abuse Edition *TRIGGER WARNING!*<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U1TuvGRCImQ/T-hs9K3WWqI/AAAAAAAAAO8/FubwXbtS-Ss/s1600/abuse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U1TuvGRCImQ/T-hs9K3WWqI/AAAAAAAAAO8/FubwXbtS-Ss/s640/abuse.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Photo courtesy of Samurai Karate Studio. Find them at </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #228822; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px;">samuraikaratestudio.blogspot.com</span><br />
<br />
A woman is out on a date with a guy she just met. The date is going well and they hit it off. She can't help but think "Oh, he's so sweet and perfect. I hope he'll see me again." And she does. They make their relationship official and all is well....<br />
<br />
Fast forward 12 months. She's just forgotten to put his clothes in the dryer, because she was cooking breakfast. Now he's going to be late for work. "Why can't you do anything right?" he says stepping slowly towards her.<br />
<br />
"I...I'm sorry, I just... forgot. I was trying to make you breakfast..." she stammers, cowering.<br />
"<i>Forget</i> it! Now I have to wear wet clothes!"<br />
She bursts into tears and can't stop herself from thinking, "He's right, I can't do anything right."<br />
<br />
Later that week, she's bathing her daughter, and couldn't get to the phone in time to answer his call. He comes home that night, in a rage. He accuses her of cheating, since she wouldn't answer his call. "No," she pleaded. "No, I was just giving my daughter...." She doesn't finish her sentence. He hits her across the face. "See what you made me do?" He backs away and goes to take a shower, muttering about how worthless she is. She's so confused. Why did she make him hit her? It was her fault, all her fault.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7rEb88XLUww/T-hvP7DGOaI/AAAAAAAAAPM/ktawEpqhAOs/s1600/abuse+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7rEb88XLUww/T-hvP7DGOaI/AAAAAAAAAPM/ktawEpqhAOs/s400/abuse+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Photo done by me</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
He comes to her in bed that night and lifts her chin. She flinches and pulls back. He apologizes and tells her it won't happen again and that he just has anger problems. She shouldn't make him mad like that.... ever again..... But she did. Everything made him mad. He didn't like her talking to friends and her family wanted to see her, but she was too ashamed of her appearance. If she doesn't get out soon, it might be too late.......<br />
<br />
Research suggests that 1 in 4 (25%) women has experienced domestic violence in her lifetime. Women make up 85% of domestic violence, while men make up the remaining 15%.<br />
<br />
Depending on the type of survey, there is a range between 600,000 and 6 million women who are battered each year. Women between the ages of 20-24 are at greater risk for nonfatal violence from a partner or spouse. Most abuse comes from someone that the woman knows personally. Separate and divorced men and women are also at high risk for nonfatal abuse, says the Bureau of Justice Statistics, Intimate Partner Violence in the U.S. 1993-2004.<br />
<br />
Each day, 4 women die as a result of abuse... Each day, 3 children die as a result of abuse. The FBI estimates that 32% of female homicides are by their partner or spouse.<br />
<br />
Not many people understand the impact domestic violence has on battered women. She loves her partner and is attached to the loving part of him or her. They don't like the abuse, but in their mind, their loving gestures make up for it. "It won't happen again." "He says he's going to get help for his anger." Smoke and mirrors. Justification for the spouse's or partner's behavior.<br />
<br />
As a woman who was in an abusive relationship, both physical and emotional, I know how persuasive an abuser can be. He persuaded me into thinking I was worthless without him, that I was irrational in all my thinking. He persuaded me into thinking that he wouldn't hurt me anymore, that it should be enough that he provided for me financially. I owed it to him to submit to him.<br />
<br />
The day I had enough and left, only further confirmed that I was making the right decision. Saying hateful things is not something a loving person does. Hitting is not something a loving person does. Being manipulative is not something a loving person does. A loving person doesn't make you feel worthless. A loving person encourages you to be independent and achieve your goals, not keep you from them.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kpfucP7QP7A/T-hwusWukvI/AAAAAAAAAPU/P0O1Un1M8Zc/s1600/abuse3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kpfucP7QP7A/T-hwusWukvI/AAAAAAAAAPU/P0O1Un1M8Zc/s400/abuse3.jpg" width="356" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Photo courtesy of stopabuse.vt.edu</span><br />
<br /></div>
If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, call this number for resources 1-800-799-SAFE(7233). Don't second guess yourself in your choice. Don't listen to your abuser, when they try to get you to stay. Do not continue to submit. Fight back by leaving and never looking back. Help stop domestic violence.beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-44372388579813615462012-06-24T06:36:00.001-07:002012-11-19T08:26:08.912-08:00Levi Jaxson's Unassisted HomebirthThis is my youngest child's birth story. I really want to write my older 2 children's birth stories, but it's a little hard, because of the choices I made and medical professionals taking advantage of me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qk6JWXzH1yU/T-cYxEsuh_I/AAAAAAAAAOw/TrFe_P4fBAM/s1600/levi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qk6JWXzH1yU/T-cYxEsuh_I/AAAAAAAAAOw/TrFe_P4fBAM/s640/levi.jpg" width="561" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I haven't written in a while. It took quite some time to start to find myself. But that's another blog post in and of itself. THIS is about my new little love. My second son, who changed my perspective of birthing and how relationships should work and who I could and couldn't trust. This is the story of how he came into this world.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">On Friday, November 18th, I had my membranes stripped. I was 39 weeks 4 days pregnant and very optimistic that it would do much for me. I wasn't necessarily tired of being pregnant, I was really excited for labor to start. After going for an off and on walk of 3.5 miles, I decided to give it a rest and not pursue contractions any further, so that I wouldn't be worn out the next day if anything happened. I started getting what seemed like Braxton Hicks that evening and they got to 7 minutes apart pretty consistently. They weren't strong at all, so I decided to get some sleep at midnight. I couldn't get to sleep in bed, so I came out to the couch and put some "sounds of nature" music channel on to help me sleep.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I woke up around 4:30AM, to what I thought was me just having a full bladder. I felt restless afterwards and couldn't sleep. I didn't know why, until I had a hard and very noticeable contraction. This happened again 10 minutes later and by 5AM, they were averaging 5minutes apart. Still the same intensity. I get more restless, wondering if this really is it and start pacing the living room and kitchen. I kept wanting to do something to keep me busy, but I couldn't figure out what, even though there were dishes in the sink and cookies I planned on baking. They jumped to 3 minutes apart and a minute long while I paced the rooms.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">After an hour of pacing around, I started to feel a little worn and stayed sat down for the most part. They spaced out to 5-7 minues apart, but more intense and I had to let out low moans to cope. Even though the contractions got harder, the space in between them increasing discouraged me and I started to think that this was another labor tease. heh The denial phase seems to happen alot with women.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">My husband got ready for work as I labored. I was fine with it and completely prepared mentally to labor alone. He was also under the impression that I'd have a doula friend with me, but she'd left for certification training the day before. Since I hadn't experienced a completely natural birth before, even though I had 2 children prior, I wasn't as prepared physically as I thought I'd be. I had no idea how much harder the contractions would be hitting me. I wouldn't even necessarily called it pain, as much as the contractions were intense. Like waves that kept climbing and I needed to match the height of them with the sound of my voice to stay on top.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">So, the husband left for work at 6:30AM and I had him hold me through a contraction right before he left and he said he was sorry that he had to go. By 7, the contractions were still spaced out to 5-7 minutes but coming harder. I leaned on the couch and it felt good to be part way bent over, rather than squatting or hands and knees, which both hurt to do.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">My 2 yr old daughter got up at 8 and I made her cereal and I surprisingly didn't feel irritated with her presence like many mothers describe during labor. I even switched my music to cartoons for her so she'd stay occupied after she ate. She checked on me regularly and was curious about the sounds I made and even mimicked me a couple times.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">9AM rolls around and the contractions are picking up in intensity and a little bit in length but the time between them was still the same. I'm in and out of the bathtub at this point, not sure what would make me most comfortable. I was feeling the need for being on my hands and knees in the water, but it was far too crampy for me to do this. I was getting louder with each contraction. As the waves climbed higher, so did my voice. It was like a chant that was needed to keep me grounded and solid and whole through this entrance.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">10:35 comes and as I'm stepping out of the tub for the 50th time, my water breaks. It's clean and not stained with meconium, so I go on. Then the monster contractions come. I update that my water has broken on a Facebook group and when the first tidal wave of a contraction hits, I'm on the birth ball, hitting enter on the post. "Hoooooooooooooo,motherf**king sh*t. Hoooooooooooo." Not being prepared for the contractions to come faster and 3 times as hard, it left me gasping afterwards, and I knew I had to get in hot water for relief. I retreated to the bathroom and added more warm water. I laid on my side and hung onto my inflatable like a liferaft and kept my voice as high as the waves took me and I loosened my arms around the pillow as the wave died down. My jaw and eyes were relaxed as the waves washed over me and I clung on, drowning them out with my voice.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">A contraction hadn't come when I thought it might and my eyes snapped open as I finished catching my breath. I had stood up to see if I could sneak out of the tub to pee before it came. And then, an invisible force pushed me down onto my hands and knees. This was the first time I felt half desperate to escape the waves. Almost like a whirlpool and I was afraid of drowning. I wanted to crawl away from the contraction, but all I could do was rock back and forth. I remember a contraction in this position that I had to growl to get through. I thought for a moment that bearing down slightly might feel good. I don't know what time it was, but I know it was less than 5 minutes of pushing. I sat 2 contractions in the tub, shaking and on the verge of throwing up. A person will NEVER understand what the uncontrollable urge to push feels like until it happens to them.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">During the pushing, my daughter came in and watched for a second and asked "What are you doing mama?" grunt*Having a baby, honey* "Oh, okay. I'm gonna go watch cartoons now." Goofball.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Another tidal wave contraction washes over me and it's like someone taking a remote and hitting a button that says "push" over and over again. A neverending cascade of lost self-control. My BODY pushes once, his head is at my perineum, a 2nd push(by my body) his head is out. A third push, and I'm helping my body this time and he's out. He's sputtering for a minute and taking his time pinking up, but he finally wails once and settles down.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">The placenta took 15 minutes to come out, but it seems to all be there. I had a placenta smoothie(for those that don't know, it's only a small piece of placenta blended in a fruit smoothie) after things calmed a bit. He came down so quickly that he didn't have a cone shape to his head. It's perfectly round. He's fast asleep after nursing and I couldn't be happier and feel more whole after this experience.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Levi Jaxson Wheeler</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">11/19/11 10:50AM</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">8lbs 4oz 20.5 inches</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">born after 5 1/2 hours of active labor</span>beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-35900388924686560792012-06-24T06:33:00.004-07:002012-06-24T06:33:53.412-07:00Silent LullabyI wrote this when I was 16.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Silent Lullaby</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I wended and weaved</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Through the debri</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Up on the stairs</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Like a rodent in a maze</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">The splintered boards raked at my bare legs</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Everything so eerily quiet, I shivered</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I, the only being alive</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">But unthriving</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Where had all familiarity gone?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">A thing so light in this great significance</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Had been whisked away like a child’s blanket</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">The door at the topmost stair</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Hung on a single hinge</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">And clothing which lie tattered and limp</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Was strewn about the floor</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">The owners unknown</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">The dining table was upended</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">And partly decapitated</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">A mattress’s springs</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Had made their way through the fabric</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">One slender ankle protruded tragically</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">From behind a tall picture</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">A portrait of a young couple</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Painted in the 1800’s</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">With little ease, I stepped over a broken lamp</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">To reach the shredded canvas</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">When I removed the canvas, my throat tightened</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">My eyes stung with hot, sorrowful tears</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Not a cut or bruise</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Was visible upon this child</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Yet, she lay unconscious</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">In a peaceful position</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Holding a string of rosary beads and a teddy bear</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Then, I heard it in the dead stillness….</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">God's silent lullaby.</span>beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-82974956624407256222012-06-13T23:18:00.001-07:002012-06-14T11:04:01.393-07:00Our Love Story- Chapter 3: New Beginning, New LifeBack to the story. I know, you were waiting for the conclusion. Just on the edge of your seat. Yeah, right. ;)<br />
<br />
Right, so I left off with my moment of clarity. I went to Ray's work regularly, because that was basically the only access I had to a phone (his cell phone) without having to use a pay phone. He'd been increasingly uneasy about me using his phone without his supervision, because I was "acting sneaky". On this particular night, I was talking to my mom and my son, who had left for a little bit, until I could get things under control. I talked for 45 minutes, and the whole time while he was on the clock, he sat there..... and listened to the entire conversation. After I got off the phone, he was very angry with me and I asked him what was wrong. "You were on the phone for <i>forty five minutes</i>! I have work to do!" Uhhh.... so why weren't you working? "Because you were being sneaky on the phone. I don't trust you on the phone with your mom." Okay, wow. Now, I can't talk to my friends, my sisters OR my mom. This was rich. So I left a few minutes later (so he could work, God forbid).<br />
<br />
After I got home, I reactivated my Facebook and asked Billy to send money for Casey to get diapers, etc. He ended up putting in $75. I had a conversation with him, back and forth. I ached to see him. Even though he said he wanted nothing to do with a relationship with me, I needed OUT! I never mentioned this to Billy, but the $75 was my ticket out.<br />
<br />
When Ray got off work, he demanded to see my Facebook, which he'd been doing the entire month I'd been back there. I figured I deserved to have my privacy violated, since I'd left and betrayed his trust. But tonight, since I knew there was stuff he wouldn't like, I told him no. An argument follows and he threatens to throw me out, for the 4th time. He expected me to beg him to forgive me, like the last times. It was his leverage on me. This time, I said "FINE! Go ahead." And threw all my stuff together in 5 minutes.<br />
<br />
We argued off and on for 6 hours, the whole time, he's insulting me, calling me crazy and a whore and the only thing special about me is that I'm psychotic. All of the insults made me cry, and as I'm crying, he's asking me why I'M crying because I was the one leaving him. *eyeroll* You may ask why I stayed for that long after I'd gotten all my stuff together. Billy had sent the money through Western Union. It was closed before I would have gotten there that day. I couldn't leave until the next morning at 9AM. I was stuck.<br />
<br />
By 4AM, I was drained of all energy and emotion. He almost sucked me back in, when he convinced me to come to bed with him. I didn't let him touch me. I wept until 5AM and finally fell asleep. I woke up at 8:30 at which point, I was met by him sitting on the bed. I grab some of mine and Casey's things and try to go out the door. He stops me and asks me if I'm leaving for good this time. When I confirm that I won't be coming back, he gives me this look I'll never forget. I could swear it was evil. He got 2 inches from my face. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply, his nose was wrinkled in a snarl and he growled at me through clenched teeth, "You will NEVER come back. You are a piece of trash, good for nothing whore. You're a garbage parent. I hope you DIE giving birth to my son. You will regret leaving, I promise you." Then he spit at my feet.<br />
<br />
This did nothing but confirm I would, indeed, never return. It scared me. I don't remember feeling that afraid, ever. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd grabbed me by my throat as well. A few of his exes had confirmed that he was physically abusive to them.<br />
<br />
I had no problem getting the money from Western Union, after I waited for them to open at 9AM. I got gas and left town as quickly as I could. It was hard work not to fall asleep on the way. It was only a 3 hour drive, thank goodness. When I got into town, I headed right for Billy's work. I stopped at a convenient store first, to call and have him meet me outside. He sounded put out and I didn't blame him. I was so relieved to see him, I wanted a hug, but knew he didn't want the same. I tried to give him the rest of the money. I cried and asked him if I could crash on the couch until I could figure out a way to get to my mom's house. He reluctantly agreed and gave me the key to the apartment.<br />
<br />
We had a long talk about how things were going to be. We wouldn't be a couple, I would only stay as long as I needed. He didn't want me to sleep on the couch, because I was pregnant and the couch was uncomfortable, so I slept in bed with him, but stayed far from each other. It hurt to be so formal with him in person. After a couple days, I couldn't stand it anymore and started trying to get him to warm up to me. I made him breakfast when he'd leave in the mornings, fed him well for dinner, and cleaned up the pig sty he had made(guys living alone equals YUCK!).<br />
<br />
During this time, we talked more and more about the things that were happening and why they happened and how we had felt when they happened. These times were emotional. A week after I got back, we were talking and he started crying. I was already crying, but I went to him and consoled him, hugging him and stroking his face. We looked at each other for a long time. I wanted to kiss him, that's all I wanted and all I could have expected. "Kiss me," I whispered. We kissed deeply and the rest of that night was history, if you know what I mean (nudge nudge)<br />
<br />
We spent the next couple months, mending what had been wrecked during the years of addiction and illness and especially the 6 months of hell we'd put each other through. No doubt, though, I had put him through more in that time. We were so happy, despite me carrying Ray's baby. We never talked about the baby together, except the possibility that Ray would never truly FATHER him. The months rolled by, we did better than we'd ever done. November was my due month, and I started preparing for the birth.<br />
<br />
During that time, I cleaned like a mad woman and cooked everything under the sun I could think of so I wouldn't have to when the baby arrived. One night, about a week before I had the baby, and I was cooking, he came up behind me and held me tight and whispered "I love the new you. You're amazing."<br />
<br />
A small divide was driven between us, as we had differing views on where he should be born. He feared for my safety, no doubt, but he was also uneducated. I wanted to stay home, even without the help of a midwife, and he wished I'd go to the hospital. My mom BEGGED him to convince me to go to the hospital. I knew he felt pressure from her too. I stood my ground.<br />
<br />
On the 19th of November I woke in labor at 4:30AM.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(taken at 11pm, November 18th at 39 weeks 4 days)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xe8slXc_wGU/T9mAseB9U6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/Xdmbo3M6MGw/s1600/levi7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xe8slXc_wGU/T9mAseB9U6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/Xdmbo3M6MGw/s640/levi7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Billy had to leave for work at 6:30AM. I had told him a friend was coming over to help me labor and if all went well, he'd be home when I was ready to deliver. Well, my friend was out of town. I didn't tell him this, because I didn't want to worry him more. And I ended up delivering on my own, at 10:50AM that day. He was stunned when I called him and told him the news. And relieved. He'd told his co-workers and even they had been on pins and needles, hoping everything would be okay.<br />
<br />
I named him, Levi Jaxson Wheeler. He took my last name, because Ray was no longer involved, nor did I want him to be. Levi did fine, when he was first born. Pinked up nice, let out a nice wale, nursed. But when the afternoon rolled around, he started getting sleepy and his color started getting dusky. It would improve for a bit, then his condition would deteriorate again. By 6PM, when Billy got home, I was very worried and took him in.<br />
<br />
The medical team was great with him and stabilized him quickly. A couple of the staff were condescending about where I had him, no doubt, blaming his condition on me birthing at home, but I didn't care. I wanted him to be okay. They stabilized him, gave him antibiotics(because he was born at home and could have been infected) I was glad that my kids' pediatrician was on call that night, because I knew him. He didn't seem upset that I had him at home, just concerned. After 2 days in the NICU, and next to no sleep for me, they did an ultrasound on his brain and it was confirmed that he'd had a small brain bleed from birth and had nothing to do with being born at home. I was so relieved. I blamed myself for those 2 days. It would have happened, no matter where I'd given birth.<br />
<br />
Things went great after being released. And Billy was so proud of me. So proud. While I stayed with Levi in the NICU, he was talking to my mom the whole time and she was criticizing me for staying home and he said exactly this "I don't care what you think, Wanda. I am so damn proud of her! She stayed home, gave birth alone, cleaned everything up, and was up and around hours after delivering. She's actually a housewife now. A better mom. I'm proud of her." When my mom told me that, I started crying. I hadn't heard him say anything speaking so highly of me before. It made me love him even more.<br />
<br />
Billy fell in love with Levi.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEr5Qk_fXto/T9mBGhBF38I/AAAAAAAAAEE/pbaS-QBsueI/s1600/CIMG5049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEr5Qk_fXto/T9mBGhBF38I/AAAAAAAAAEE/pbaS-QBsueI/s640/CIMG5049.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And I fell deeper in love with Billy. How amazing that they weren't biologically attached, but he loved him anyway.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We learned to appreciate each other and listen to each other's needs and to not only love each other, but to CARE FOR each other. Anyone can love, but it takes a strong and mature couple to know to care for one another. We write each other notes like these:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-To_Hvtr6G6M/T9omDPtn6-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/UWMBTUr8tDQ/s1600/CIMG5484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-To_Hvtr6G6M/T9omDPtn6-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/UWMBTUr8tDQ/s320/CIMG5484.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JUKZzKhji6c/T9omN8Jqx3I/AAAAAAAAAEY/VGRSmTLPNis/s1600/CIMG5485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JUKZzKhji6c/T9omN8Jqx3I/AAAAAAAAAEY/VGRSmTLPNis/s320/CIMG5485.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(This note reads: Baby the house looked great tonight. I can tell you worked hard on it. Thank you sweetheart. :) FYI: You are wonder mom. Levi cried for 5 seconds and you jumped up(I was sleeping on the couch) heh I thought it was the tv, but not you. lol You are wonder mom and a good one. I am so proud of you.) Seeing, hearing each other's love has impacted us and showed us that love can truly do anything.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We are still happily together, and loving each other more. There are still issues from the past we need to work out, but they no longer go ignored. I love Billy and I love our life together. I couldn't ask for a better man. We started out so dysfunctional and such an odd couple. We beat the odds. Nobody thought we belonged together, much less stay together. But we're proof that love knows no bounds and that love is a choice and we chose to keep loving each other, even after all we'd been through. I love you, sweetie, with all my heart.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-36210172138046273002012-06-11T15:11:00.002-07:002013-03-06T22:11:31.951-08:00You Know, That Moment When You Feel Guilty For Breastfeeding.....I know this falls out of chronological order from my chapter by chapter love story, just had to post about this today.<br />
<br />
I was at the food bank with my son, who will be 7 months on the 19th. We sat down by another mother, who looked to be about 17 or 18, whose son is also 7 months old. Her baby started getting fussy, so of course she grabs his bottle and mixes some formula to feed him. Now, I don't have a problem with formula feeding moms at all, especially when I don't know the circumstances and who on earth would ASK what the circumstances are, anyway. But I saw myself in her, when I was her age. This is only related to what caused my guilt.<br />
<br />
My son gets hungry, so of course, I try to be discreet and feed him. An older woman had just sat next to me and started filling out her paperwork.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2pyMeeWwXQE/T9Zrh1eGxgI/AAAAAAAAADg/_Awo946iD_U/s1600/lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2pyMeeWwXQE/T9Zrh1eGxgI/AAAAAAAAADg/_Awo946iD_U/s640/lady.jpg" width="456" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
She looks over and says not-so-quietly "Oh, you're nursing? Oh that's so wonderful! I nursed all three of mine for 2 years each. It's the absolute BEST that you can give your children!" And through talking for a few more minutes I found out that she too, had home births with her children, as I had, with my youngest.</div>
<br />
I saw the other mother out of the corner of my eye when the old woman was talking and she lowered her head and turned a bit and I felt bad that she had to hear that. It doesn't matter how true it is, maybe she knows the benefits and regrets starting formula, maybe she couldn't keep her supply because she had to work, or just dried up for no reason, maybe she was misinformed and told not to breastfeed and that formula was "just as good as" breast milk. I felt guilty that it came easy to me. I loved that the old woman was lovingly encouraging, but I wished she hadn't said anything, to spare the young mother the shame.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ff-lJJ-YITc/T9ZsV49ls9I/AAAAAAAAADo/6NpeWoZFH_Y/s1600/bottle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ff-lJJ-YITc/T9ZsV49ls9I/AAAAAAAAADo/6NpeWoZFH_Y/s320/bottle.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
I still feel a little bit of shame that I didn't breastfeed my oldest that long. He was only 6 weeks old when I weaned. And at 17, you tend to believe a lot of stuff you're told about parenting. I was lucky that I kept my supply for 7 months with my 2nd child. I dried up from flu a few times, and then I became selfish and didn't want to "be tied down" anymore. And, I hope I can save some mothers from feeling ashamed or not good enough. Every mom that feeds their child the best that THEY KNOW HOW is a good mom. When you know better, you DO better, and when you do better, you can afford to help others as well. If we can work together and not shame each other, then we all learn something and we ALL do better.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DNmIB0bn7BQ/T9Zs9GocggI/AAAAAAAAADw/Ryu8E8EnvT8/s1600/hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="506" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DNmIB0bn7BQ/T9Zs9GocggI/AAAAAAAAADw/Ryu8E8EnvT8/s640/hands.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-4273118154725407622012-06-10T11:15:00.000-07:002012-06-10T11:17:51.169-07:00Our Love Story- Chapter 2: Against My WillMy mom found out what was going on and forced me to stay home for 2 weeks or she'd call CPS. They should have been called long before that. We stayed clean long enough for me to land a good job, working at a heart and lung clinic, doing medical records. I loved the job and I was happy to be making good money. Temptation led right back to the dope. This time, pills were a constant add in the mix.<br />
<br />
Fast forward 7 months. I've just lost my job after having been caught being high at work. After that, Billy and I lost our apartment and we moved into my mom's house. Billy kept getting high as I struggled to stay clean and this took a toll on our relationship. After I entered a program to help me stay clean, I left him.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(shortly after getting clean, dates on camera are wrong)</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kIej6ykEjy4/T9TUBLXeCiI/AAAAAAAAAC8/h6FPp3jYg7k/s1600/mike3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kIej6ykEjy4/T9TUBLXeCiI/AAAAAAAAAC8/h6FPp3jYg7k/s640/mike3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
We got back together a short time later and he went into treatment. At the end of August, he was out of treatment and we married in early September.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CKR16RXzLOc/T9TVCq3mg1I/AAAAAAAAADE/M_4GX-IYnp4/s1600/married.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CKR16RXzLOc/T9TVCq3mg1I/AAAAAAAAADE/M_4GX-IYnp4/s640/married.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Now, I failed to mention before, that I'm Bipolar and since I wasn't medicated and only clean a couple months, I was having manic episodes. A week after our wedding, I decided I wanted to go to Seattle and live... alone. After I got there, I turned on my phone and got several messages from Billy saying he was going to hurt himself, he was so confused, why did I do this, and like a flash I snapped out of my mania. I panicked and bolted back to Montana. But not before I got pulled over twice for going way over the speed limit. I had to get there before anything happened to Billy.<br />
<br />
We moved out of my mom's house shortly after and started over in our own house. I found out I was pregnant in early October, which, again was a surprise because I was on birth control. The idea quickly grew on us and we began planning. To our dismay, 4 weeks later, I lost the baby a week before my 19th birthday. We were disappointed, but agreed to try to have another baby as soon as I recovered. We became pregnant on New Year's Eve that year.<br />
<br />
In June, Billy got promoted at his job and we moved 300 miles away from the town we called home. Pregnant and without family for the first time, it was hard on me, which made it hard on our relationship. I made several trips to my moms house that summer. A few of them were unannounced to my husband and this too strained our relationship. I was so alone, with Billy working so many hours. I knew no one and our son was so spirited, he made it difficult to go anywhere, even the 12 step meetings I needed to attend.<br />
<br />
In October 7th, we were blessed when Casey Mercedes James made her entrance into the world on her due date. She had red hair, just like daddy. And those were our first words when she was born. "She has red hair!" The little girl we had decided on 3 years before was finally here and we were happy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uXeK_foLrsw/T9TWamAyQWI/AAAAAAAAADM/wtYMi-zJ7QY/s1600/babycasey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uXeK_foLrsw/T9TWamAyQWI/AAAAAAAAADM/wtYMi-zJ7QY/s640/babycasey.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e8AU6ASYS4Q/T9TWgdKPSSI/AAAAAAAAADU/aCkWil2huzY/s1600/babycasey2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e8AU6ASYS4Q/T9TWgdKPSSI/AAAAAAAAADU/aCkWil2huzY/s640/babycasey2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Our happiness would soon falter, as 2 months after my daughter's birth, I feared I might hurt myself and entered treatment. The doctor dismissed my insistence that I was Bipolar and misdiagnosed me as clinically depressed. What was it that people say? The customer is always right? Anyway, I didn't continue my medication, because it didn't stabilize me.<br />
<br />
My emotional troubles affected my husband and I. We weren't spending time together, I wasn't cleaning the house because I was anxious and depressed and this made Billy resentful, which made him not want anything to do with intimacy and this drove me deeper. I found solace in socializing on the internet and immersed myself, so I could hide from my life.<br />
<br />
I found motivation to start exercising(but not clean... weird) and I was starting to feel good about myself. But when I entered a 5K race, Thanksgiving 2010, I trained hard and was confident. I was finally doing something. Billy didn't want to go and I told him to stay home, I didn't care if he didn't go as long as I wasn't late. He puttered around, getting ready, we get there.....15 minutes late. I couldn't race. I was crushed. I hated him after that. He ruined something I ached to achieve.<br />
<br />
After that, I gave up on exercise. Why do it, if I didn't have a goal and why try to achieve a goal, if he was going to crush it? Again, I found solace on the internet and I stumbled across an ex(Ray), who was going to be done with pre-release in January. We started talking and he "listened to me" and "understood me". We were talking more and more, and soon, I was making plans to leave Billy.<br />
<br />
When it came time to leave, in late January, a friend of Ray's came to get us. It was 3 hours to get to his house. The grass was greener on the on other side for only a few weeks. Ray seemed to get upset about small things and didn't like me being on Facebook or to text anyone. Even my family. He made the excuse that it was "hard to adjust to life on the outside". I believed him. On Valentine's Day, he'd been up all night and was being especially mean. The landlord had to come over to fix the water heater and when Casey wouldn't be quiet(she was 15 months old) he gave me a look I don't think I could forget, it was so mean-looking. On Valentine's Day.<br />
<br />
I talked to Billy on the computer that night, when I couldn't sleep and we came to the agreement that I needed to get out and I still wanted to be with him. I had talked to a friend on Facebook about my plans to leave. The next day, I'd left my Facebook logged in and he went through my messages and found what I said to my friend. I was afraid to leave with him knowing.<br />
<br />
The next couple weeks dragged by and we had to move into Ray's co-worker's house, because Ray's landlord didn't like us living together without being married(whatever, old guy). When we moved into his friend's house, his behavior got worse. I became friends with his co-worker(female) and he didn't like it one bit. In the middle of March, I found out I was pregnant. I was scared. I knew he would hold it over my head. "You can't leave if you're pregnant with my baby."<br />
<br />
Two days after I found out I was pregnant, I left and came back to Billy. I left while I was manic and I second guessed myself so many times that I didn't know where I wanted to be, or where I should be. I went back to Ray. When I got back his friend was bitter with Ray and made us leave. We had to live in a motel. We fought everyday over things that he started. And he pinned the blame on me, every time. Since most of the fights were through texts, I SAW and knew that he was starting the fights, but being told that I was instigating the fights made me overcautious of what I could and couldn't say.<br />
<br />
I texted him with the computer and he made me stay on the computer to text him every second he was at work. If the room was a mess, say maybe Casey made a mess, he got mad, but I was helpless to do anything about it, because if I didn't text him right away, he'd flip out and accuse me of this and that and a fight would ensue, with blaming me. It was all <i>my</i> fault.<br />
<br />
Again, seeing how harmful his behavior was, I left to be with Billy. This time, I thought it was for good and Billy and I were starting to repair our relationship, despite being pregnant with Ray's baby. Everything was going great, but I started talking to Ray again, and he sucked me back into his trap. But this time, before I left, I'd gotten help for my Bipolar and had just started taking medication. Being with Ray again was worse than ever. He blamed me for everything bad that happened. He didn't let me go anywhere alone. I couldn't get off the computer to do anything without getting in trouble.<br />
<br />
The day we found out the sex of the baby, things seemed great. I was tired, and wanted to take a nap. But he wanted to have sex. After telling him no repeatedly and him getting very angry, I told him I was leaving to cool off and run some errands. He told me my stuff would be on the lawn if I left. I told him to go ahead. He got in the car, so that he could make sure of where I was going. We argued the whole way to where I was going and I cried while driving. After we got back, I laid Casey down for a nap. He still insisted that we have sex. No no no no. I said it over and over. My words fell upon deaf ears.<br />
<br />
Afterwards, he made me feel guilty for being upset by saying he felt like shit about himself. My feelings weren't valid as far as what he'd done to me. HE was the victim of what happened. He made me delete my Facebook several times over the next 10 days. It wouldn't be until 4 days later that I would find a moment of clarity.beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-76048547871427901712012-06-07T07:31:00.002-07:002012-06-10T10:00:37.372-07:00Our Love Story- Chapter 1: There's Nothing More Intimate Than...I want to post a disclaimer that this story has a lot of personal details. Comments are welcome, but please, no bashing, as these events are in our past. Since there is a lot of content, I will be posting this in segments of three or four. And one reason I feel I can share this...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3IqAJ5RX5tM/T9TSnGT_NpI/AAAAAAAAAC0/pNX1c4q2SGU/s1600/i+dont+care.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3IqAJ5RX5tM/T9TSnGT_NpI/AAAAAAAAAC0/pNX1c4q2SGU/s640/i+dont+care.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>"Chapter" 1: Nothing More Intimate Than...</b></span><br />
<br />
This long journey started before we ever met and everything happened so we could meet the way we did. Our journey started one day, sitting at a stop light in traffic. This probably sounds cheesy and even cliche, but it was true for me. I saw this guy in traffic, average guy. I got this feeling in my gut, my soul and it told me "This man is going to change your life forever." He did.<br />
<br />
He was my sister's co-worker at the local IHOP. I started work there, roughly a month after I saw him in traffic. I'd forgotten all about him until I saw him at work, the day after I was hired. We laughed and joked and had fun together at work, but something was there. After a week, we flirted around and one night, about 2 weeks later, I told him that I really liked him and he agreed, he felt the same way. That night, we shared a kiss in the men's bathroom, while I was supposed to be cleaning. It was the most magical moment ever. For a second, my heart stopped and I tingled and the room disappeared, it was only us. See what I mean? Cliche. But it was true for me. His name was Billy.<br />
<br />
We started dating March 13th, 2006 and had already fallen head over heels. We daydreamed about future children, if we ever got to that point and came up with the perfect girl's name Casey Mercedes James.<br />
Being together was one thing... but there was a problem. An age gap. I was 16 and he was 26. It had to be kept under wraps, which at a restaurant, does. not. HAPPEN! My sister found out a month later. Furious, she told my mom and my mom threatened to press charges. In Montana, it's not statutory rape after you turn 16, so he couldn't be touched legally. But it scared us, nonetheless. At the same time, it made us more determined to be together, no matter what.<br />
<br />
It wasn't long after we got together that I noticed he was buying and selling pills at work, with the cooks. I was curious, so I got in on the action. I fell in love. I started getting curious with other things and hooked up deals with someone at school, who sold ecstasy, coke, pills, and weed. I don't know what else he sold, but it was all good and I did try it all.... within the same week. Coke was the last thing I tried and since I didn't care much for it, I sold it to a co-worker.<br />
<br />
The day after I sold my leftovers to my co-worker, I told Billy that I wanted to try meth at some point. I knew that he did it and wanted in on trying that too. The next day, he picked me up 2 blocks away from the school at lunchtime and we walked around the park. He gave me two gel capsules that looked like prescription pills. I asked him what it was and he told me(some sort of anti-depressant medication). I figured, alright, if it gets me messed up, why not? He told me to take it and see how I felt in an hour. 20 minutes later, my scalp tightened and tingled, my arms felt giddy and I couldn't stop grinding my teeth or shut my eyes enough to blink. I didn't think anything of it. I was light as a feather. For the life of me, couldn't figure out why I couldn't stop chewing up the little baggy that the pills came in. I even tore off a little bit of a branch of a tree and started tearing it apart with my teeth. I was also feeling very intimately friendly, to say the LEAST.<br />
<br />
After our park escapade, he dropped me off at the same place he picked me up from. Before I got out of the truck, he said "You DO know what I gave you, right?" "Yeah," I replied. "Prozac, right?" He paused nervously, "No, it was meth..." I FLIPPED OUT! I got back in the truck and shut the door. "Seriously? What the fuck! Really?" Thousands of thoughts flew through my head. *I didn't even have a chance to say no. What if I wanted to change my mind and didn't really want to do it?* It didn't matter. I had to get to class. I'd already skipped one class that day.<br />
<br />
After 4 days of being up and having lots of sex, I finally came down. My mom found out and demanded I tell her where I got it. I never said anything, but she knew. I got tested and came up positive for everything I'd tried in the last 2 weeks.<br />
<br />
A week later, I started feeling sick. I couldn't control the urge to vomit. I thought I was having negative side effects from being clean. Billy mentioned to me, there was a slight possibility of being pregnant. Since I was on birth control, I doubted it, but opted to go to the community clinic 2 weeks later to get tested. Positive. And by the dates of my last period, I was 6 weeks along. Little did I know, I didn't bleed from a period. I had implantation bleeding and was 10 weeks pregnant when I found out I was pregnant. I was mortified, because, here I was, between 5-7 weeks pregnant and putting all that crap in my body. I had no idea. No clue, until I was clean. I had gotten pregnant 2 days after we got together.<br />
<br />
The roller coaster started from then on. He continued to do drugs, behind my back and we only saw each other once a week, so he could avoid me knowing(although, I knew full well what he was up to). But since I was in denial, I drove myself crazy, trying to get ahold of him and see him. When I did see him, he didn't touch me. He drank beer and watched football. I was almost to the point of leaving him, by the time it came to deliver our son.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">36 weeks pregnant</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cMOzk4Rv3PU/T9C8CroYL5I/AAAAAAAAACU/DigoqoB7i3U/s1600/preg1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cMOzk4Rv3PU/T9C8CroYL5I/AAAAAAAAACU/DigoqoB7i3U/s640/preg1.jpg" width="420" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
On December 15th, at 7:30 in the morning, I woke up in early labor. Since I didn't know what to expect, I was tense and unsure what to do. This led to a lot of pain. A lot. We made our way to the hospital at 9:30, since it seemed like my contractions were too painful to bare.(what a wimp I was!) We were sent back home, after being deemed "too early in labor" to stay. I was bummed. This left me to cope with my contractions without the help of Billy, because since I had woken him up at 8AM, he was too tired to stay awake. At 5PM, I decided I wanted to go to the hospital. I was about a 4, but progressing slowly and as soon as I got on monitors, they wanted to keep me in bed. This made contractions so much worse and I begged and begged for the epidural. How was I to know that I had the right to get up out of bed to help with the pain if I wanted? I was 17, with no knowledge, except what I was told about how PAINFUL childbirth was. I submitted. After the epidural, there was talk of a c-section, because my contractions were almost stopped. They asked if I wanted pitocin and I nodded, and said yes, between a sob , fear that I might have to be cut open. What choice did I have? After some amazing coaching from Billy( I was shocked), at 1:45AM, I was informed that it was time to push. I didn't know how to push and gave feeble attempts. After 15 minutes of little pushes, and getting a feel of it, I pushed to a 10 count. At 2:30AM, Michael Wayne James was born into the world, but was blue and "in need of resuscitation". The room was silent for 2 minutes, as the nurses worked on getting him breathing and pinked up and I wept silently. He gave a strong kick and everyone cheered.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-atMHbS0VpYs/T9C8cs_AFXI/AAAAAAAAACc/U3ks2KCNVtc/s1600/mike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-atMHbS0VpYs/T9C8cs_AFXI/AAAAAAAAACc/U3ks2KCNVtc/s640/mike.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Once he was swaddled, he wasn't given to me, everyone else held him(mom, both sisters, Billy). I remember thinking to myself "I. want. my. baby!" But I waited. I fell in love when I saw him and held him and I vowed to take care of him, good care.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oTOk4Ykc_RU/T9C8oRTEcMI/AAAAAAAAACk/NUez1MBa2g0/s1600/mike2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oTOk4Ykc_RU/T9C8oRTEcMI/AAAAAAAAACk/NUez1MBa2g0/s640/mike2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Fastforward 4 months. My Billy and I, new parents to a baby boy and seeming happy, got ready to move in together, in our first apartment. An odd, familiar urge rose in me, and I regretfully didn't ignore this urge. When Michael was almost 5 months old, my boyfriend and I started doing drugs again. We were smoking meth, shortly after moving in. I wasn't able to hold down a job, due to my use. As soon as I had a bad day at work, I quit. In mid- August of 2007, when Micahel was 8 months old I got in an accident and I cried and cried because I was so glad my son wasn't with me in the car.<br />
<br />
I had found a needle with meth in it that my boyfriend was hiding. Shooting up? Hmmm... Well, since he's going behind my back, I'll go behind his. I called up a couple that shot up dope together and asked them if they'd help me with my first time......<br />
<br />
That whole week was a blur. I cheated on Billy with the couple because I wanted to get high some more. What did I care if I had to do that? It made me aroused anyway. Billy found out the next day and a shit storm ensued. He went out and drank. We made up by doing some dope and having sex. People say there's nothing more intimate than shooting up with your partner. At the time, they were right.beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-9961645293297787662012-06-06T15:28:00.002-07:002012-06-06T15:28:32.742-07:00Sometimes Good Parenting Leads To NeglectIt's been.....4 months?...since my last post, I think? Well unto no fault of my own. For a month, I couldn't access my blog. Add another 3 months, because my computer took a huge dump. And a couple weeks, because I've had writer's block. *throws hands in the air* Whatever.<br />
<br />
But I've been documenting through photos and this has led me to why good parenting can lead to neglect. And I don't mean neglecting my children. Oh gosh, never them. Well, they might have a dirty face for the afternoon... Or sometimes go the whole day without being dressed...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O4Ivwc8DHr8/T8_M1VglyDI/AAAAAAAAAA8/XkCqO35TQiw/s1600/CIMG6187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O4Ivwc8DHr8/T8_M1VglyDI/AAAAAAAAAA8/XkCqO35TQiw/s320/CIMG6187.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
But that's a whole other post. I'm talking about HOUSEWORK! You know, the other half of your "job" that you need to accomplish before your husband gets home. The dreaded pile of laundry that you've shoved into your closet in 3 baskets, so hubby doesn't think it went undone. But, alas, the next morning, he's looking for his work shirt and it's sitting in a basket....wrinkled.<br />
<br />
The kitchen...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kfxoR1fX4TA/T8_NtBH7jOI/AAAAAAAAABE/mQ6HnE2zrEY/s1600/CIMG6182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kfxoR1fX4TA/T8_NtBH7jOI/AAAAAAAAABE/mQ6HnE2zrEY/s640/CIMG6182.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Dishes are undone, floors have sticky fruit juice on them, last night's dinner just MIGHT have been left out because you were too tired to put it away at 10PM.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The living room...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_hQG8f5CrQ0/T8_QhX4V_oI/AAAAAAAAABU/a2RSwS167D4/s1600/CIMG6181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_hQG8f5CrQ0/T8_QhX4V_oI/AAAAAAAAABU/a2RSwS167D4/s640/CIMG6181.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I think the mess says it. This isn't the worst it's been. There's usually toys that puncture the soles of my feet or trip me. But it looks more like they wanted to read and have pillow fights today.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Their room....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AbSccmVrAXk/T8_Rj54O8zI/AAAAAAAAABc/SPy7YP1kkzc/s1600/CIMG6183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AbSccmVrAXk/T8_Rj54O8zI/AAAAAAAAABc/SPy7YP1kkzc/s640/CIMG6183.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sheets stripped from the bed, toys under the bed, laundry, oh and I have the music on for them at night, which was on full blast at 7:30 this morning. Again, this is NOT the worst it's been. I've recycled a lot of toys and donated for my own sanity.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I do not have a large circle of friends for two reasons 1)My house is a mess 95% of the time and the kids run around in underwear just as much. 2) BECAUSE of this, I must be judged by the lying "supermoms" that say they can parent 3 kids without their house or their kids being a mess. They either have a maid or a nanny. Two of which I cannot afford.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But because I am fortunate enough to be home with them, I co-sleep and breastfeed on demand,</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EZQ5Mjspar4/T8_V4Mo8txI/AAAAAAAAABw/ulEeO7swCSo/s1600/CIMG6197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EZQ5Mjspar4/T8_V4Mo8txI/AAAAAAAAABw/ulEeO7swCSo/s640/CIMG6197.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I get to enjoy watching them play and read together</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AUtqvICxn_c/T8_WQNJB88I/AAAAAAAAAB4/B_RdDxWeLUU/s1600/CIMG6188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AUtqvICxn_c/T8_WQNJB88I/AAAAAAAAAB4/B_RdDxWeLUU/s640/CIMG6188.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I get to be silly with them</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J83Wiz0Vqio/T8_ZMQSdPoI/AAAAAAAAACI/Rhmcxj_mGYY/s1600/Photo+on+6-6-12+at+4.25+PM+%232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J83Wiz0Vqio/T8_ZMQSdPoI/AAAAAAAAACI/Rhmcxj_mGYY/s640/Photo+on+6-6-12+at+4.25+PM+%232.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So, even though I get frustrated, because the older two are fighting while I'm feeding a sleeping baby or because the house isn't clean...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ql5_ZPSc4Xc/T8_XeZIjnRI/AAAAAAAAACA/PLrp-NxnVVE/s1600/mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="555" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ql5_ZPSc4Xc/T8_XeZIjnRI/AAAAAAAAACA/PLrp-NxnVVE/s640/mom.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know I'm a good mom. The dishes and piled up clothes can wait. I have a book to read and an alien emperor to vanquish with my son.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-37150402446094007542012-01-31T23:37:00.000-08:002012-02-02T20:19:56.113-08:00A Little Help In The Bedroom?(NOT the little blue pill!)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5IVExV-FutA/TyjrpnYp5LI/AAAAAAAAAA0/4woJJ4NsOKg/s1600/surrogate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5IVExV-FutA/TyjrpnYp5LI/AAAAAAAAAA0/4woJJ4NsOKg/s320/surrogate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
Being as motherhood is made possible by sex, I feel healthy sexual relationships relate to "all things mommy". Happy mommy, happy kids, right? (wink)<br />
<br />
A sex surrogate. You mean, a person insiminating my wife? No, I mean a person hired to COUNSEL you OR your partner about intimate insecurities, trying new things. And there MAY be sex involved. A sex surrogate works alongside other therapists and refers patients to the surrogate that are willing candidates for sexual surrogacy. Not just anyone can knock on a sex surrogates door and pay for sex.</div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
Linda Poelzl, a sexual surrogate was <a href="http://www.thefastertimes.com/oddjobs/2010/04/07/sexual-surrogacy-more-than-just-hand-holding/" target="_blank">interviewed </a>by Jessica Pilot and says "People assume sex surrogate therapy is one big sex party. And clients often assume they can get a few sex lessons and then they are fine, but it’s usually more complicated than that.”</div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
Truth is, there are tons of married couples, many I have encountered online and in my personal circle of friends that suffer from feelings of inadequacy, lack of knowledge, or there is something in their past that is holding them back in the bedroom.<br />
<br />
Sexual surrogacy is "a dying breed" as Poelzl puts it. Just over 30 years ago, there were 200 nationwide and now there are 50 and the numbers are dwindling. As a society that believes in monogamy and not many consider polyamory, sexual surrogates may seem taboo. <br />
<br />
Let's look at the bigger picture here: Say your husband or wife were shamed or pressured in some way that made it very difficult to become aroused or if they became aroused, they felt dirty for it. They then cannot perform and feel even more guilt and shame. Someone, such as Linda, not only has practice in knowing what goes on mentally with these problems, but shows ways that patients can become more comfortable and work through it. <br />
<br />
This may be where the sex comes in and even then, the person doesn't "finish". It's used to explore the body language of the client and getting to know them and pointing out where they may be faltering or letting themselves clam up.<br />
<br />
Sexual surro's, since they are all-in-all a therapist, do not obligate their patients to disclose that they are being treated to their partners, as there is patient/provider confidentiality. When asked if she would classify her practice as cheating, she replies "I think there are easier ways to do it, like hiring a call girl. That’s a much quicker way to have a good time." Not many would agree, but being as this is extensive sex therapy, and not much sex going on, if you wanna get your rocks off, go put your boots under a hooker's bed.<br />
<br />
As someone who believed society, saying that men want sex ALL the time and that it's all they think about, I was in for a surprise when my relationship went from new to normal. "It" would happen every 4-8 weeks. At 18, and believing the media that he should be all over me, I began to believe that there may be something wrong with me. <br />
<br />
Help from someone like Linda may have been a good thing. Not having sex with her, but understanding the dynamics of an intimate relationship, instead of expecting things to happen, when they clearly can't be forced. Let me know, readers: what are your thoughts on sex surrogates?beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600712878211953464.post-71209330162689927342012-01-21T07:27:00.000-08:002012-01-21T23:09:14.204-08:00Motherhood and Mental Health<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8fYNIbYRNrk/TxWN_vcdXsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ZAVKdJA9_-g/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8fYNIbYRNrk/TxWN_vcdXsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ZAVKdJA9_-g/s320/006.JPG" width="282" /></a></div>
Mental illness.... and motherhood. Not something one would think to include in the same sentence, right? Not many seem to talk about it, in fact, not many women are taken too seriously when they tell people that they have a mental illness. Any why would they be taken seriously? After all, the phrase equals "sick in the head".<br />
<br />
There is some unspoken expectation that mothers need to have it all "together" or they are deemed unstable. Even a mother that doesn't have a mental illness won't have everything perfect. A mother with a mental illness has many obstacles that a mother without an illness might not ever worry about. Bouts of uncontrollable, unexplainable depression, mood swings, fits of rage, fatigue, impulsive and harmful behavior.<br />
<br />
All of these are things that mothers with an illness deal with, on top of other daily mothering duties. The isolation, some explain kills. Anxiety of meeting new people and feeling like they'll be rejected for no reason. Having to hide their mental illness for fear of rejection is another one. Everybody needs to vent or just let someone know what we're feeling. What happens when mommy is too afraid of not being accepted?<br />
<br />
Having patience to cope with being a mom to small children is an obstacle that diagnosed mothers find difficult to hurtle. Some will go into fits of rage, out of inability to deal with overwhelming emotions. Some children get hurt, others end up fearing their mother. If this happens, the mother will feel that they need to bottle these emotions, to hide their illness from their children. One mom shares her experience with hiding Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) from her young children:<br />
<br />
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="font-size: small;"><em>"Being a mum is the best thing that could happen to me but the worst is hiding a mental illness from them and when your son asks why are you sad or angry for? having to lie to protect him by saying oh my thyroids are playing up! Or they want to play with you but your just not up to it and seeing there disappointment at you! But my kids have made my last few days worth living seeing their smiles makes me smile knowing no matter how hard it gets they are there to pick me back up." </em></span></span></h6>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
Borderline Personality Disorder is believed to be caused by early childhood and adolescent trauma. It seems to occur more in women, and this makes the diagnosis more prevelant in women with children. <a href="http://journals.cambridge.org/action/displayAbstract?fromPage=online&aid=303786&fulltextType=RA&fileId=S0954579405050169" target="_blank">A study</a> of mothers with BPD that went untreated, or not treated properly had less responsive or less positive responsiveness in infants when interacting with strangers. Symptoms of BPD include, but are not limited to: </div>
<br />
<br />
<li>Impulsive and risky behavior, such as risky driving, unsafe sex, gambling sprees or illegal drug use</li>
<li>Strong emotions that wax and wane frequently</li>
<li>Intense but short episodes of anxiety or depression</li>
<li>Inappropriate anger, sometimes escalating into physical confrontations</li>
<li>Difficulty controlling emotions or impulses</li>
<li>Suicidal behavior</li>
<li>Fear of being alone</li>
<br />
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<br /></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
A mother explains how her Bipolar has affected her motherhood in a negative way by saying, <strong>'"</strong><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"><strong>My 'episodes' have altered and changed my everyday life before I even had time to digest my own thoughts. I feel like I don't deserve my children. I made them go live with their Father. I still see them but I don't think I'm good enough for them. That's just the tip..."'</strong> </span></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<br /></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">Many Bipolar patients seek help either by themselves, or are ordered by the courts to do so, for the well-being of their young family. Not receiving treatment for Bipolar is not only damaging, but can result in death, due to manic depressive episodes. Some Bipolar patients describe their episodes as an <strong>'"out of body, or 2nd personality experience."'</strong> This means that while the person is hyper-manic or manic depressive(highs and lows) what they feel isn't a part of them. They feel like they are another person and what they do doesn't affect anyone else. Their actions aren't selfish, because they have almost no control over what they do. There are three different types of Bipolar. Type 1 is the most severe, making it hard to hold jobs and be consistent with everyday life. Type 2 is alot less serious, with sudden mood change. And also, Cyclothymic disorder or Cyclothymia is the least severe, with less dramatic highs and lows. Symptoms of Bipolar are:</span></div>
<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"></span><br />
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">Other symptoms include seasonal changes in mood, psychosis, and rapid cycling bipolar disorder.</span><br />
<br />
<li>Euphoria</li>
<li>Inflated self-esteem</li>
<li>Poor judgment</li>
<li>Rapid speech</li>
<li>Racing thoughts</li>
<li>Aggressive behavior</li>
<li>Agitation or irritation</li>
<li>Increased physical activity</li>
<li>Risky behavior</li>
<li>Spending sprees or unwise financial choices</li>
<li>Increased drive to perform or achieve goals</li>
<li>Increased sex drive</li>
<li>Decreased need for sleep</li>
<li>Easily distracted</li>
<li>Careless or dangerous use of drugs or alcohol</li>
<li>Frequent absences from work or school</li>
<li>Delusions or a break from reality (psychosis)</li>
<li>Sadness</li>
<li>Hopelessness</li>
<li>Suicidal thoughts or behavior</li>
<li>Anxiety</li>
<li>Guilt</li>
<li>Sleep problems</li>
<li>Low appetite or increased appetite</li>
<li>Fatigue</li>
<li>Loss of interest in activities once considered enjoyable</li>
<li>Problems concentrating</li>
<li>Irritability</li>
<li>Chronic pain without a known cause</li>
<li>Frequent absences from work or school</li>
<li>Poor performance at work or school</li>
</div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<br /></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">Depression is often self-explanatory. Treatment for depression varies widely from using Lithium or even medical marijuana. Treatment for clinical depression is crucial. We all know what untreated depression can result in. Here are some symptoms and cause for concern of a family member:</span></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<br /></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<br />
<li>Feelings of sadness or unhappiness</li>
<li>Irritability or frustration, even over small matters</li>
<li>Loss of interest or pleasure in normal activities</li>
<li>Reduced sex drive</li>
<li>Insomnia or excessive sleeping</li>
<li>Changes in appetite — depression often causes decreased appetite and weight loss, but in some people it causes increased cravings for food and weight gain</li>
<li>Agitation or restlessness — for example, pacing, hand-wringing or an inability to sit still</li>
<li>Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements</li>
<li>Indecisiveness, distractibility and decreased concentration</li>
<li>Fatigue, tiredness and loss of energy — even small tasks may seem to require a lot of effort</li>
<li>Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or blaming yourself when things aren't going right</li>
<li>Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things</li>
<li>Frequent thoughts of death, dying or suicide</li>
<li>Crying spells for no apparent reason</li>
<li>Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches</li>
<br />
Postpartum Depression is another mental health issue that many new mothers seem to overlook. It is very serious, and can lead to harm to mother or baby. The mother feels extreme guilt for not being happy with her new baby, and for not wanting to take care of the baby.<br />
<br />
<li>Loss of appetite</li>
<li>Insomnia</li>
<li>Intense irritability and anger</li>
<li>Overwhelming fatigue</li>
<li>Loss of interest in sex</li>
<li>Lack of joy in life</li>
<li>Feelings of shame, guilt or inadequacy</li>
<li>Severe mood swing</li>
<li>Difficulty bonding with the baby</li>
<li>Withdrawal from family and friends</li>
<li>Thoughts of harming yourself or the baby</li>
<br />
Mental illness takes a backseat in alot of cases, when you become a mother. Feeling guilt of taking care of your needs, when your children have needs that go unmet is a major factor in not being treated. Appointments get in the way of soccer games, or buying medications could sometimes come before a new pair of pants or shoes for the kids, etc.<br />
<br />
If you know someone with a mental illess and have trouble tolerating them, just remember that they are sick. They don't have a choice in having this illness, just as much as a diabetic has no choice in having diabetes. People need to educate themselves on mental illness, instead of fearing it. If you ever encounter someone who has trouble accepting your illness, give them some references in which they can educate themselves. Most of the time, reasoning with someone who doesn't understand your illness will not work, and only makes it worse. <br />
<br />
Mothers, it may seem selfish to seek help for your illness, but you're helping your family in the long run. A healthy mommy equals healthy children.</div>
<br />
<br />beckyj222http://www.blogger.com/profile/12340402365841563641noreply@blogger.com0