fears

Everyone has things in life that they fear. As parents, some of those naturally involve your child(ren). When Gwen was born, I was struck with the incredible realization that I was in charge of this little life. That her thriving or failing, rested on my shoulders. The responsibility was heady and terrifying.

It still is. I worry about feeding her the right things, getting her outside enough, keeping her strong and healthy. I worry about sickness or accident taking one of us from the other. More so though, I worry about the way this world is changing. I swear that the world has gotten scarier since my innocent babe came into it. Bullying, drugs, violence... they have always been around, but maybe because of the influence of social media, these bad things seem so much bigger and badder now then when I was a child.

Source: PostSecret

During our day-to-day, I am happy and in the moment. I keep my fears in check, definitely keeping them out of her sight. At night though, sometimes I lay there, and I feel them wash over me. My sweet, innocent, loving child. I know I can't protect her, life needs to be lived fully. That means broken hearts, fights with friends, and people who just don't like you. I know that, but still I wonder... will she make friends easily, or will she be lonely? Will she be picked on? Will she even be safe in her school?

These thoughts break my heart. When I was in high school you had to worry about someone starting rumors about you (bad enough), now you have to worry about someone posting something online that can be seen by thousands and will be there forever. And heaven knows I shouldn't have to worry about if my baby will come home from school, but more and more that has become a scary reality of our times.

Why am I sharing this? No reason, except that I couldn't keep it inside anymore. I want hand holding and hair petting and reassuring words. Except that I know there are none to offer. In which case, I can only hope for a little commiseration, and maybe some hope.

What are your biggest fears?



If you find that your fears become overwhelming, making it hard to live your day-to-day life, please talk to your doctor. Fear is normal, anxiety that disrupts your life is not. Postpartum Anxiety is real, and it can be helped.

Six Steps To a More Relaxing Day

Every mom has heard the advice to take care of yourself so you can be better equipped to take care of your children. But what comes to mind when you hear the words self care? A large block of uninterrupted time like a spa day or girls' night out? A long bath while Hubby takes over the bedtime routine? Regularly scheduled "me time" away from the kids? 

Personally, I prefer to think of self care in terms of small ideas I can implement daily to help stay relaxed and focused. Because when I remember to do these simple things, I feel better and it shows in my mothering. 

1. Go to sleep. As tempting as it is to stay up well past the Agents' bedtime (and they are night owls), I make it a point to have lights out no later than 11:00. For the most part, the girls sleep all night without incident. Agent A will wake up two or three times, but because we are co-sleeping it's not that big of a deal.

2. Get out of bed first. No matter what time we all go to sleep, I aim to be awake first. Even just 15-30 minutes is enough time to make coffee, read a chapter of my Bible, and check e-mail without someone climbing on me. It's such a small thing, but it makes all the difference in the world.

3. Eat and drink. Obvious, no? But I cannot tell you how many times I'll get to lunch time and realize when I made breakfast for the Agents I failed to eat any myself. Or conclude at 5:00 p.m. that I haven't had anything to drink all day except my morning coffee. As you may have guessed, this does not exactly put me in a good mindset for dealing with any afternoon craziness that may arise.

4. Talk less. I have found that most of the time when I am frustrated with my children, it's because I don't know when to stop talking. I go on and on with my reasoning when really I intended to make a simple request. Or I turn something into a much bigger issue than it actually is by verbally overanalyzing it. Or I spout off some "consequence" that I know is never going to come to fruition because I don't know what else to say or do in the heat of the moment (*cringe*). 

5. Slow down. Other than church (which we don't attend consistently) there really isn't anything we do with a strict time constraint. Oh, we need to make it to the Y within the parameters that the child care is open, and we will occasionally make plans to meet another family at the park and want to show up approximately when we said we would, but . . . for the most part our time is our own and we have no reason to be in a such a hurry. For instances when we do have a "time sensitive" event to consider, we allow way more time than we need so we don't feel rushed.

6. Breathe. I tend to be very future-oriented. This is why I chose a word for 2013 that will help me to remain in the present and not obsess about things that haven't even happened yet (or for that matter, may not happen at all).

What little things do you do each day to help stay calm and centered?

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

"No Greater Sacrifice:" Cesearean Birth

Recently, I recieved a message from a friend of mine on my personal facebook page that started like this: "So I see all the stuff you post about vbac and natural childbirth and a few of them had made me feel you think less of moms who have had csections. I had one and it was terribly disapointing but I also needed my child to arrive here safely [. . .]" The message really stunned me because I am currently in the process of planning a vbac in about nine weeks (or less) and am a cesarean mother myself. I realized that, perhaps, in my own exuberance at the chance of giving birth naturally once more, and in making my own emotional struggle with my cesarean largely private or on here only, I may have missed the chance to be clear about how I feel about cesearen birth. I do realize that cesarean birth can seem like it has a bad reputation with mothers who want to experience "natural" birth. I will admit that I, and many of my like minded friends, probably post links about natural birth, its beauty, and how to avoid unnecessary cesarean sections so often that we may forget that people may not always know where we are coming from. So, here is where I'm coming from.

A few months ago, I attended a screening of the film "Freedom For Birth: The Mother's Revolution: Women Take Back Childbirth," in addition to being a great film, the discussion afterwards featured a comment that made me cry and not just because I'm pregnant. A Certified Nurse Midwife, Sameerah Shareef, the only nurse midwife who attends birth in the entire city of Lansing, where we currently live, made the comment that she could think of "no greater sacrifice" in birth than that which a birthing mother makes when she births on an operating table instead of naturally. She went on to describe the heartbreaking desecration of laying youself prostrate and allowing yourself to be cut open not just spiritually, or emotionally, or metaphorically, but literally in order that your baby might live and be born. It was the first time I found myself thinking of my son's birth as something other than shameful and I cried tears of relief to hear her words. I wish I had been able to record them so that I could share them all with you, but I didn't and while the literal words have left me, the spirit hasn't.

A mother who births through a c-section is an unsung hero. At no other point in your life will you have a major surgery performed on you (with all its risks and side effects) and not only have no one really pay attention to your recovery, but will also be told repeatedly to be thankful for it (even though it causes you great daily pain and has permenant repercussions emotionally, mentally, and physically for you). "Healthy mama, healthy baby," is the mantra I was told over and over again, but I have to tell you that post c-section, especially if that c-section was unexpected and the recipient is not sure if it was or wasn't completely necessary, most mothers feel anything but "healthy." When you go in for a c-section, you sacrifice a lot. Often you sacrifice your ability to be the first one to hold your baby, you sacrifice your ability to hold your baby skin to skin right away (in our case, my husband was allowed to step in and give my baby that, but it tore me up to see that I would have to wait), you sacrifice your own health, you (sometimes) sacrfice your ability to breastfeed successfully (I was lucky in that I did not have this problem, but it is very, very commen for women with c-sections to have all sorts of post-surgery delayed milk production and other breastfeeding issues), you sacrifice your own mental and emotional health (many women find that the trauma of a c-section is much more than they ever thought it would be; not all, but many) and sometimes you allow yourself to sacrifice your own ability to say you "birthed" your baby, preferring instead to say your baby was "delivered" (I still struggle to think I "birthed" my baby through a c-section). I've met many women (me among them) who felt that their agency in the birthing of their own children had been negated just because they had a c-section. I often have found myself apologizing or giving excuses for my c-section as if I had let everyone down (most of all myself and my child), by allowing myself to be lain on a table and sliced open to give birth instead of managing to do it on my own. Sameerah's words did much to reshape that image in my mind.

A mother who births through c-section is a warrior in her own right because she fights not just during her birth, not just during her immediate physical recovery, not just through her emotional recovery (which can often take longer), but also through any subsequent pregnancies where she now faces increased risks both if she chooses VBAC or she has necessary repeat cesarean. In fact, in the paperwork the hospital where I am planning my VBAC had me sign, the risks for maternal death, infant death, and other serious complications are the same no matter what course she chooses and those risks are increased compared to mothers who have not had a cesearean. That is a lot of physical, mental, and spiritual work for any woman to have to take on, and currently in this country around a third of all women who give birth face just this challenge. (A third! When in many developed nations both maternal and infant mortality rates remain lower than the US AND cesarean rates are less than 10%!) No one is denying that c-sections save mothers and infants, but many are dedicated to making sure that the c-sections that happen are absolutely necessary and do save lifes.

So, make no mistake, if those who advocate natural birth are anti unneccesary and uninformed c-section and are very vocal about it, it is not because anyone feels that women who birth through c-sections are lesser than or somehow not as strong as mothers who birth vaginally. Most (like many of the women on this site who gave birth through c-section and are intimately and painfully aware of just how strong and hard c-section mamas have to be) are actually motivated by the sacrifice and pain women go through and want to make sure that the only mamas who go through that kind of pain and sacrifice are the ones who need to in order for them and their babies to live. Mothers who birth through cesearean sections are amazing, strong, and face challenges that mothers who birth naturally often do not have to face. I am in awe of them. I am in awe of myself. I have come so far and been through so much and am taking on so much more in planning my VBAC that I can have nothing but respect for mothers who birth through c-sections. We are a very strong, resiliant group of women to allow ourselves to be permanently scarred, broken open, emotionally torn, and under appreciated all while performing all the duties that new mothers must perform to keep our babies thriving. I have nothing but love for women who must birth through c-section, but I also want to make sure that no one goes through all that without reason, including myself.

Thank you for reading,
Shawna

"French Kids Eat Everything," and now my kids do, too

If you know me well, you know that much of my life revolves around food. Not only do I love eating food, I love preparing it, I love cooking it, baking it, and thinking about it. I plan my week's meals ahead of time, and I buy groceries according to what I'm cooking that week. If there's a holiday coming up, watch out--cookies and other baked goods leave my kitchen with stupendous speed. I love planning holiday meals and meals for special occasions. I make 95% of what we eat from scratch; and I'm damn proud of it. I buy local and organic as much as possible, and love cooking and mastering different cuisines.

This is why it's so difficult for me to admit my dirty little secret: up until two weeks ago, my kids didn't eat dinner with my husband and I. As in, not at the same time, and not the same meal.

This isn't the case for any other meals. We eat breakfast together, and there are no special or separate orders prepared. Lunch is a freebie--we eat what we want, unless we go out or unless I'm making something special. Our snacks are pretty much universal--having next to zero processed food in our house means we all munch on fruit, nuts, and the like. So why the dinner disconnect?

My son was a really picky eater (still is). I learned pretty quickly that it was easier to serve up chicken nuggets (organic ones with whole wheat breadcrumbs!) or pizza (Amy's Organic! I swear!), or pasta with sauce (organic too!) rather than fight with him about eating what I was serving up for my husband and I. I was insanely neurotic about my son going hungry--I figured through giving him what he liked, at least he would eat, and then eventually he would join us in our meals.

With my middle daughter, I was determined make a change. I made all her baby food and started feeding her "table food" as soon as she would have it. However, eventually I fell into the same trap I did with my son. The "kid meals" were easier; faster; and my children loved sitting and eating together. My kids would eat dinner around 5:30; my husband and I, 6:30 or later. I reasoned that this made sense because I didn't want them eating too close to their milk and bedtime. I didn't want them going hungry, waiting for my husband and I to eat. This was a good thing. Until it wasn't.

Inevitably, the food battles with my daughter began around age 3, as they had with my son. This made me realize that food battles are not about food, but about control. Whereas my daughter was eating eclectic meals just weeks before, now she was turning her nose up at seemingly everything. We began arguing at every sit down meal.

After a year of my kids rotating through the same four things for dinner, I finally had enough this past Christmas. Faced with another round of holidays where our children would not join in the family feast, I decided that was it. I didn't make a huge deal about it, but I told my kids that there was not going to be any more frozen pizza, frozen chicken, grilled cheese sandwiches, or pasta with sauce and cheese (unless it was what we were all planning on eating).

You know what? This was one of the easiest transitions I have ever made with my children. It's amazing how, when there are no other options, the kids will just eat what's there! They don't always finish, and that's ok, but they are ingesting things I never thought would be possible.

You may be reading this and laughing, or thinking "No duh, genius," but if you aren't, I have some good tips for you that are working for us. I recently came across a blog post about a book called "French Kids Eat Everything," and though I haven't read the book yet (it's on my reading list!), in it there is a list of ten unwritten French rules on eating with children that I think are fantastic. If I may pat myself on the back here, I'm happy to say that once we started the family dinner meal, we used all of these rules before we knew they existed. Once again, you may be thinking that this is simply common sense and what's the big deal? But if you're not, here are the rules, and my take on each.

1. Parents: YOU are in charge of food education! This is absolutely true, and something we take very seriously in our home. We talk about food a lot, where it comes from, how it's prepared, and when our local farmer's market starts up, we attend as a family as much as possible. I know that when my kids get older they'll eat stuff that's bad, but as long as what they eat is under my control, I will work as hard as I can to influence them in a positive way. Growing up, my mom cooked simple, delicious meals with wholesome ingredients, and though I went through a heavy McDonald's phase in my late teens and early twenties, my mom's way of cooking and treating food was instrumental in the way I feel about food and eating, and what ultimately brought me back from the Dark Side.

2. Avoid emotional eating: No food rewards or bribes. This is difficult, but ultimately is for the best. I use food as a reward or a bribe only when everything else in my arsenal is exhausted. I've started offering a cookie not as a bribe, but more as something to look forward to once the meal is finished. I've also started avoiding saying, "If you don't finish your dinner, you're not getting a cookie, etc." It's helping a lot, and the kids eat simply because its time to eat!

3. Parents schedule meals and menus, and kids eat what adults eat. Hooray! This is one I'm most proud of, and while I've done the meal planning for years, we are finally eating the same food! Someone give me a cookie!

4. Eat family meals together. Probably my favorite part of this transition, I love sitting down with everyone, kids included. The mealtime conversations we are having are wonderful. As for my youngest daughter, we've started giving her tiny morsels of whatever we are eating, at every meal. She's fallen into place, just like that! It's ok if this means that the kids go to bed a bit later some nights. Family meal time is so much more important.

5. Eat your veggies (think variety). We are all about the vegetables here. At least one veggie accompanies every meal, and I love to cook vegetarian and vegan meals. I'm so excited to share these with the kids.

6. You don't have to like it, but you have to taste it. This is exactly what it sounds like. We put every component of our meal on our kids' plates, and they have to try it before they say they don't want it. They both tried and loved red bell peppers. They tried and hated fingerling potatoes. Next week I'm making cauliflower!

7. No snacking! It's ok to feel hungry between meals. This is absolutely true in the hour or two before dinner, but if we are out and about and not planning to eat until we get home, you can bet the snacks are out in full swing, especially if we have to wait somewhere or have a long ride ahead of us. I'm not sure if the book is nixing all snacking or just close-to-dinnertime snacking, but either way, we have to adapt these rules so they make sense for our family. Snacks have saved my hide more times than I can count. I never leave home without them.

8. Slow food is happy food--as in, eat slow. This is a work in progress for us. I eat like someone is chasing me because frankly, someone usually is (to nurse, or read a book, or wipe a butt). Now that we are eating together, since we are all engaged in the same activity, it's easier to slow down. But I still need to remind myself to do it! My husband and I both also have a bad habit of rushing our kids while they eat. Work in progress.

9. Eat mostly real food. Another area where we do well, as stated above--I make nearly everything we eat from scratch. It's wonderful to be able to share my love of fresh ingredients and good-for-you food with our children.

10. Remember, eating is joyful. Relax! Now that we are all eating dinner together, I can't believe it took us this long, and can't imagine it any other way. It's so awesome hearing my kids exclaim over parts of the meal they love and ask questions about what everything is. They wander in the kitchen while I am cooking and ask what we are having, and look forward to what new thing they are going to try (for the most part. Middle daughter was not enthused about trying the fingerling potatoes). I'm so excited to instill in my children my love of food and cooking.

Does your family eat all meals together?

Learning from my First Year as a Mother: New Years Resolutions

Every year, no matter what particular new year day we like to pick to ritualize, we find ourselves reflecting on the past and planning for the new start that will come in the next year. Usually, I'll admit, that time for me is in the fall. There is something about the start of the school year (even when you aren't in school), that makes me consider the year as being new, but this year the fall was too busy for my usual reflection and with a new baby on the horizon in 2013, I find myself thinking about these things on actual, regular new year's day.

When I think about the last year, however, I see a lot that was good and a lot that was not so good. All in all, it was a pretty normal year. In the context of the great scheme of my life, I've realized since my son was born that I am in the midst of what will be called the best years of my life. I will likely never be happier than I am right now as a stay at home mom with my child (one day soon, children) with me every day and even with all the hardship, I know that I will always look at these times fondly and will likely wish myself back in them once they are past. In other words, as bad as some days are, I know deep down that it doesn't get better than this. That said, I do seem to remember a lot more of the harder times of my first year experience as a mom of an infant and those memories drive me to reconsider what my second "first year" as a mom will look like, so this year I have resolved not so much to do anything differently, but to try to think of things differently.

This year I resolve:

1. To go to bed early and not look at the clock at night no matter how many times my baby or my three year old wakes me up.

2. To remember that there will be plenty of time to clean the house when both children are over a year old.

3. To accept that I may not be the best mom I can be all the time, but I can keep trying to do the best I can.

4. To not worry so much.

5. To just say how much I love my family whenever I am in doubt of what else to do. Even when my child is in meltdown mode and screaming the opposite, it can't help to remind him that I love him, right? Even when my new baby is screaming and inconsolable, s/he needs to hear that I love him/her regardless, right? I'm sure my husband could use that more than my crazy, sleep deprived crying fits I had last time . . .

6. To let go of any expectations I have of myself or my children to be anything than who they are in the moment. Sure, we are not perfect and sure we will not measure up to others from time to time, but we are who we are and we can love and be loved where we are.

7. To have fun for at least five minutes every day

8. To remember that a year only lasts twelve months, no more and no less. If it seems to be going slow, it's still only twelve months; if it's flying by, it's because it's only twelve months!

9. To forgive myself.

10. To perservere and breathe.

Thanks for reading,
Shawna

Attachment Parenting Throughout the Ages

The end of the year is a great time to reflect on what has been, but its also a great time to look ahead. Today, on this last day of 2012, I'm choosing to look years ahead. I was/am blessed to have a Mama that provides an amazing example of what AP can be long after the baby years. I wanted to share that forward perspective with all Connected Mom readers. Here's wishing you a beautiful 2013.

When someone mentions Attachment Parenting, the thing that pops into most people's minds first are breastfeeding, babywearing, and bedsharing. However, as Valerie has pointed out before... AP is more then just breasts, beds, and babyslings! You can do all of those things and not think of yourself as AP, or do none while proudly wearing the label. Not to mention, that while the years when those three things are even an option are fleeting, being AP is something most people can continue for the duration of your baby's childhood, and can even be carried over into the rest of your life. Basically, those particular actions are not the core of AP, nor are they the most lasting of its principles! I do all three, proudly wear the AP label, but see myself as an AP mom for the long haul, and not just until our boob, bed, and babysling days are over! Let's review the 8 principles*:


1. Prepare for Pregnancy, Birth, and Parenting

Become emotionally and physically prepared for pregnancy and birth. Research available options for healthcare providers and birthing environments, and become informed about routine newborn care. Continuously educate yourself about developmental stages of childhood, setting realistic expectations and remaining flexible.

At first glance, this principle seems to be a one time thing. However, the continuous education of the parent on developmental stages of childhood, and the setting of realistic expectations is an ongoing process that lasts through the child becoming an adult. It is one that is long lasting, and during those frustrating toddler... and teenage years!... is one that is so important for a peaceful household! 

2. Feed with Love and Respect

Breastfeeding is the optimal way to satisfy an infant's nutritional and emotional needs. "Bottle Nursing" adapts breastfeeding behaviors to bottle-feeding to help initiate a secure attachment. Follow the feeding cues for both infants and children, encouraging them to eat when they are hungry and stop when they are full. Offer healthy food choices and model healthy eating behavior.

Ah-ha, you say! Here it is... breastfeeding! But read it again. Yes, "breast is best" but as long as you are feeding your child in a way that follows their cues, and is done in a way to deliver emotional sustenance along with physical nutrition, then feed the way that works best for your family! Once solid foods are introduced, continue to feed in a way that is best for your child, offering healthy options and demonstrating a healthy relationship with food. I think its easy to see how this one can last a lifetime. 

3. Respond with Sensitivity

Build the foundation of trust and empathy beginning in infancy. Tune in to what your child is communicating to you, then respond consistently and appropriately. Babies cannot be expected to self-soothe, they need calm, loving, empathetic parents to help them learn to regulate their emotions. Respond sensitively to a child who is hurting or expressing strong emotion, and share in their joy.

From the beginning we try to understand what our babies are trying to tell us. A newborn/infant has only its cry to tell us that it needs something. It is up to us to take the time to listen to them, and respond in a way that is comforting, and shows them they can trust us. They learn we are there for them by us being consistent, and they learn they can come to us with anything by us being sensitive to what they show us. As they get older, our responses grow and change with them, but the level of sensitivity we show should not diminish. Their anger, their fears, their joys, and their excitement... they are trusting us with these emotions, and we should react accordingly. 

One of my favorite quotes about responding to your child is from Catherine M. Wallace, and it says, "Listen earnestly to anything [your children] want to tell you, no matter what. If you don't listen eagerly to the little stuff when they are little, they won't tell you the big stuff when they are big, because to them all of it has always been big stuff."

4. Use Nurturing Touch

Touch meets a baby's needs for physical contact, affection, security, stimulation, and movement. Skin-to-skin contact is especially effective, such as during breastfeeding, bathing, or massage. Carrying or babywearing also meets this need while on the go. Hugs, snuggling, back rubs, massage, and physical play help meet this need in older children.

Babywearing! There it is! But again, I'm sure you notice, it is a single word in a paragraph of ideas. So I'll just say this... Hug your babies. Hug them when they are newborns, hug them when they are toddlers, hug them when they are kids, and especially hug them when they are teenagers. Then, hug them when they are adults too. We all need affection in this form, don't be stingy with it, and don't hold it back as your babies become big kids.

5. Ensure Safe Sleep, Physically and Emotionally

Babies and children have needs at night just as they do during the day; from hunger, loneliness, and fear, to feeling too hot or too cold. They rely on parents to soothe them and help them regulate their intense emotions. Sleep training techniques can have detrimental physiological and psychological effects. Safe co-sleeping has benefits to both babies and parents.

Bedsharing** can be so rewarding (when done safely!), co-sleeping has amazing benefits, but good sleep is is unique to ever family. Babies do great in the parent's room when they are new to this world, listening to your breathing, close at hand for easy soothing. Whether that is in your bed, in a co-sleeper or in a pack'n'play nearby. As your baby grows, their needs will change, but their need for you, during the night, might not. 

On a personal note, Gwen was not a great sleeper for a very long time. She bedshared with us for the first few months, then transitioned to her crib for most of the night followed by a few hours with us in the morning. We needed that transition, as much as I love sleeping next to my baby, we all (Gwen included) sleep BIG! Moving, and taking up a lot of room, and it was leading us all to get less then stellar sleep. But she transitioned easily. It was all going pretty well when we went away on vacation at 6 months and her sleep went straight to hell! We were told we had to sleep train her, or she would "never sleep through the night." I'm a firm believer that her need for me, her need for consistent loving response, does not end just because the sun goes down. So, we did not sleep train. I followed her lead, listened to her needs, and gave her gentle direction when the opportunity arose. She now sleeps very well, and she still enjoys an hour or so of sleep in the "big bed" in the mornings. 

Arguably, this is the shortest lasting of the principles. However its importance in the beginning is so big, and can be very long lasting. 

6. Provide Consistent and Loving Care

Babies and young children have an intense need for the physical presence of a consistent, loving, responsive caregiver: ideally a parent. If it becomes necessary, choose an alternate caregiver who has formed a bond with the child and who cares for him in a way that strengthens the attachment relationship. Keep schedules flexible, and minimize stress and fear during short separations.

A scenario for you: Everyday you report to work at the same time, follow your same morning routine, take lunch at noon, follow your same afternoon routine, then clock out at 5. Yet some days your boss is full of praise for your work, and other days he screams at you for being lazy. You would start to dread work... not knowing what was waiting for you. But if you change that around, and replace that boss with one that reacted in a calm, consistent manner, providing constructive criticism as needed, well you would probably be a lot happier about reporting to work. You would know what was in store for you, and would even be able to take the admonishment in a much more positive way, and be more open to learning from it. 

Now obviously babies and toddlers do not offer the same consistency to us that you offered to your boss in that scenario; but ideally, we would all rather be boss #2 then boss #1! Be consistent in your actions towards your child, and when leaving them with someone else, be sure that they will be consistent with their care as well. As your toddler learns and grows, repetition and consistency are the key to encouraging them to grow in ways that work for everyone. This applies to every age though. If you child knows what to expect from you, there will be less need to push boundaries, or test limits (note I said less, not none!). While the practice of it evolves and changes, the principles stay the same. Act consistently, and act with love. 

7. Practice Positive Discipline

Positive discipline helps a child develop a conscience guided by his own internal discipline and compassion for others. Discipline that is empathetic, loving, and respectful strengthens the connection between parent and child. Rather than reacting to behavior, discover the needs leading to the behavior. Communicate and craft solutions together while keeping everyone's dignity intact.

This one is the most self explanatory when it comes to continuing throughout the stages of a child's life. This is also one that I find is the most of a "work in progress" for me. Whether you are dealing with a toddler or an equally rational teenager, show your child that they are not a lesser then member of the family, but a fully loved member. We teach our daughter respect, by modelling respect. That means explaining our reasons, understanding and empathizing with their disappointments, and encouraging natural consequences. We don't hit or berate our child, or tell her that she is bad, instead we teach that we all make mistakes, and that those mistakes have consequences, but we can learn from them together and come out closer. 

8. Strive for Balance in Personal and Family Life

It is easier to be emotionally responsive when you feel in balance. Create a support network, set realistic goals, put people before things, and don't be afraid to say "no". Recognize individual needs within the family and meet them to the greatest extent possible without compromising your physical and emotional health. Be creative, have fun with parenting, and take time to care for yourself. 

Once a week I head out to yoga. My husband does the nighttime routine without me, and Gwen is asleep before I get home. I love our nighttime routine, but I've come to love this night away from it too. It is time for me to stretch my body and mind, and recharge myself as a whole person, not just as Mama. The hugs I get the next morning let me know that I was missed, but the stories she tells me about what they ate for dinner and what books they read before bed let me know that they had a great time and it was okay that I went. The fact that I have more patience lets me know that it was more then okay that I went... it was a benefit to all of us. 

Finding balance doesn't mean you have to go out, but it does involve looking at what makes you tick as a person outside of your attachments to your little ones, and making time for those passions. This is a principle that applies whether you are AP or not, whether you are a parent or not! Everyone needs to find balance in their life, fulfillment in multiple areas, and it is something that can be so hard to come by. But especially when you are working to pour so much of yourself into your babies, it is essential to find time to refuel. 


Gwen is getting bigger and bigger everyday. We already babywear less and less, now only pulling the Mei Tai or the wraps out for things like hiking or long walks with a tired girl. Breastfeeding is only 2x a day now, and sometimes even less then that, and I know that soon enough she won't need that anymore. But I am an AP Mama now, and an AP Mama I'll remain. When she is 5, or 15, or 25, I will still seek to parent Gwen in a gentle way that respects her individuality and adjusts to her current stage of development.



* As taken from Attachment Parenting International.
**  Rachelle gave a great overview of the difference between bedsharing and cosleeping, here.

One Word

Do you make resolutions for the new year? Do you keep them?

Last year I had this brilliant (read: doomed to fail) idea to commit to One Word for 2012. My word was intentional. 

Don't get me wrong; it's actually a fabulous idea, it just didn't work for me this year. After multiple attempts to jump start my motivation for intentional living, I admitted defeat somewhere around the beginning of May.

So, I decided for 2013 I would not choose a word. Perhaps a year is just too long, too intimidating. Also, to me, intentional seemed so . . . so . . . goal oriented. I would strive to be intentional in all areas of my life. I would be intentional with my kids. with my husband. with my writing. I would check in with myself weekly, monthly, quarterly to evaluate my progress. Intentional people have it together. I can't take that kind of pressure. No word for me, thanks.

Then I realized, maybe I just need a different kind of word.

Maybe I  didn't need to try to "be" anything other than present. Maybe what I really needed to do was slow down and focus on what's right in front of me. Maybe I should stop thinking in terms of goals and getting my future self in order and simply take life one day, one hour, one minute at a time.

My word for 2013 is breathe. 

What's yours?

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

Giving Thanks and Never Giving Up

I wrote the following post just over 2 weeks ago, the night before finding out my baby was dead at 16 weeks.  In an ironic twist of fate, I had been up all night passionately writing, all about our infertility journey and how excited we were about our pregnancy.  We never dreamed we’d be able to have our first daughter, much less a second child, and I wanted to inspire hope for those who thought even one child may be unattainable.  I wasn’t going to publish what I’d written, because of the obvious devastation.  But a friend pointed out that perhaps I was writing this for my future self.  Maybe I need to heed the very advice I set out to convey to others about perseverance and never giving up on your dreams.  When I wrote it, I hadn’t the slightest idea that 3 hours later I’d wake up, go to a routine OBGYN appointment and receive the news that there was no heartbeat at 16 weeks.  No clue that I’d lay on that table while they double checked with an ultrasound, weeping and wailing once it was confirmed.  That everything we’d planned for was gone, and our whole world would be turned upside down in an instant.  So I decided to post what I’d written – for you and for me…

My second child is due this May.  It will be nearly 4 years to the day since I heard the doctor utter the one word I never thought I’d hear at 33 years old….hysterectomy.  I went into that appointment with such high hopes, thinking I’d finally found a specialist who would help me fix everything.  Needless to say, I was completely blind-sided by the recommendation.  Friends and family encouraged me, and even my husband felt that my quality of life was more important, and perhaps it was time to give up on having a baby.  I considered it…and came pretty close to going through with it.

My story is not a short and sweet one, nor is it an easy read.  But my hope is that for those of you who are going through it, I can provide a little bit of hope and exemplify just how important it is to keep yourself educated, have the courage to persevere even when everything seems stacked against you, and most importantly - never simply trust the word of a doctor because they say so.  For those of you who have not gone through it, or may know someone going through it, I sincerely hope you will take the time to read my story, so that you may have a better understanding of something that is so painful, and such a taboo topic of discussion.  It’s easy to just rattle off a list of treatments and surgeries, but there is so much more to it than that.  So much more physical and emotional pain with every cycle - so much heartbreak.  Infertility has to be one of the most isolating difficulties a couple can face.  It is such a unique sadness that at times it can feel like even friends and family just never seem to know how to comfort you unless they’ve been through it themselves.  And when it comes to acquaintances, somehow people can muster far more sympathy and even empathy for illness, but mention the word “ovary,” and most get flustered and seem confused as to why you would even say such a thing. 

Above and beyond the feelings of isolation, the daily physical pain and complications that came with my afflictions and nearly every treatment I sought, the greatest challenge by far was finding knowledgeable doctors, and continually educating myself.  I have had two different doctors tell me at two different post-op appointments that they had “no idea what that was” growing inside of me.  Unfortunately, these statements were regarding two completely different things.  To this day, I’m appalled by the fact that I had to contact a friend at the U Penn library to access medical journals so I could research these things myself.  I just couldn’t believe that a doctor would simply show up after looking inside my body during a surgery and basically say, “Yeah, um…there’s something growing in there…I got nothin’ – no clue what that is…have a nice day.”  One removed what he found (a web of scar tissue filling the inside of my entire uterus) in what turned out to be the worst method possible, and the other simply left what he found, because as of my final surgery, these other mystery growths are completely covering all of my organs in my entire pelvic region, and couldn’t be removed without scraping and damaging everything.  

It can be a little unsettling to hear that foreign things are growing all over your organs, with only a pathology report to guide your way to interpret the findings.  I tracked down a man who wrote the one article I found on the subject, just to make sure this was not something that had the possibility of becoming malignant.  Why was that my responsibility as the patient?  I would think a doctor would be inclined to take on the challenge of figuring it out in the 14 days time to the post-op appointment, and would feel like a fool to simply admit incompetence.  Yet, time and time again they did.  And every time they stopped asking questions, I’d move on to another doctor.

In three years time, I went through six doctors.  I had 3 surgeries in the last year and a half of that time, all performed by different doctors.  The first two surgeries each unveiled a completely new problem, which explained why all previous fertility treatments were utterly futile.  The doctor who diagnosed my PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) decided to simply send me home with prescriptions for 3 months worth of Clomid to make me ovulate, and Metformin for the PCOS, and told me to come back in 3 months if I wasn’t pregnant.  It was only through meeting other women on the Medhelp.org infertility forum that I discovered the standard protocols of treatment that my doctor was completely neglecting.  He refused to do ultrasound monitoring for residual ovarian cysts, even though it is quite common when stimulating polycystic ovaries for extra cysts to linger (hence the name - polycystic).  As a result, I was in the ER 3 times in my 7 months on Clomid for cyst ruptures.  Other things he overlooked were testing my husband’s sperm before putting me on all these drugs, checking that my tubes were open with an HSG (hysterosalpingogram), and most importantly, taking my progesterone levels each cycle to make sure the drugs were working and making me ovulate.  I had to kick and scream and force them to do all of these things, months into treatment.  Turns out the pills didn’t work several times, and by the end, I was on the maximum dose.  Needless to say, having to battle them to get the proper care, and ultimately not receiving it when it came to monitoring for cysts, only compounded the emotional stress and drain that came with each failed cycle. 

Despite my increasing cyclical pain, prescribing me 40 oxycodone for my monthly cramps, and once even hospitalizing me overnight when painkillers were not enough to control my cramps, this doctor refused to entertain the notion that endometriosis was a possibility.  I even had a family history of it.  The next doctor confirmed this diagnosis with my first surgery, and found the endometrial implants were pulling on my fallopian tubes.  When I asked if that could’ve been inhibiting the egg from successfully getting to my uterus to be fertilized during all those months on Clomid, she said, “Absolutely!”  She also discovered that the greater source of my pain was probably adenomyosis – a condition where the endometrial tissue grows within the muscular walls of the uterus.  And just as with endometriosis, where the implants scattered throughout the pelvis act as they would if they were inside the uterus – swelling with blood and then shedding it once a month in a foreign place, the same happens with the implants within the muscular wall in adenomyosis.  Because of this, it had really gotten to the point where there was very little time in my cycle when I was even remotely comfortable or pain free.  Every day I would wake up not knowing if I was going to be incapacitated in pain that day, or just have random stabbing pains where I could manage to function.  Unfortunately, unlike endometriosis, the implants cannot simply be removed, since they are in the muscular walls.  The only way to cure it is to remove the muscle all together – the uterus.

With this news came great frustration, but also comfort in knowing what I was facing, and the assumption that now that the endometriosis had been removed, I may at least have a shot at conceiving.  I simultaneously began seeing a reproductive endocrinologist that we had to pay out of pocket for.  So began the daily hormone injections in the belly, the IUI (intrauterine insemination) and IVF (invitro fertilization) cycles, and failure after failure.  Early miscarriages, complications like ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, and after my egg retrieval for my first IVF, I was not exactly optimistic because I showed up for the embryo transfer doubled over in pain with a terrible fever and awful pelvic infection.  For those of you who may not be familiar with the egg retrieval process in IVF, a vaginal probe is inserted with a large needle on the end of it.  The needle goes through the vagina and all the way up into the tender, swollen ovaries that have been stimulated to produce sometimes dozens of follicles with eggs, and each follicle is stabbed with the needle to extract the egg.  Each time I had it done I had 18 eggs removed, many women can have more.  You then have 3 or 5 days to hurry up and heal, before growing embryos are implanted back into the uterus.

After two failed IUI’s and a failed IVF, 10 months had passed since the first surgery and the daily pain was intolerable again.  Since the first had provided some relief, I scheduled a second surgery with a new doctor, who I’d recently switched to after many other incidents of incompetence by my last one.  This time, he decided to take a look INSIDE my uterus, where he found a dense web of intrauterine adhesions (scar tissue filling my uterus).  Aside from hearing the final doctor recommend the hysterectomy a few months after this, the post-op appointment for this surgery was perhaps the other rock bottom moment of my infertility journey.  I was informed that he found this tissue and that he had never, ever seen anything like it before (but removed it anyway).  He repeatedly emphasized while shaking his head and almost grimacing that I had “Just a boggy, BOGGY uterus!” – a term used to describe the severity of adenomyosis and how flaccid the muscular tissue is because it’s composed of blood filled implants.  He also handed me my pathology report, which described the samples of tissue taken from my uterine wall as “necrosis,” or dead.  Then he wanted to do another ultrasound to check on things, but I had to wait while he went next door first.  I sat there, trying to hold it together with the knowledge that all those recent fertility treatments were again futile given my uterus had been filled with scar tissue the whole time, that I was now up against some other unknown factor that this dipshit hadn’t bothered to research, that I’d now be forced to move onto another doctor again, and that word – “necrosis” just lingered in my head and made me feel like my womb was dead inside and I had no chance of ever conceiving.  In the meantime, he went next door to give an ultrasound to a VERY pregnant woman I had seen in the waiting room.  Through paper thin walls, I got to hear them talking about the positioning, what that meant for the impending delivery, their excitement, their laughter…  It took everything I had to wait until I got to the curb where I waited for my husband to pick me up before I began sobbing uncontrollably.

The news of what I would later learn was called Asherman’s Syndrome led me to find someone who was actually listed on the websites for this extremely rare affliction as a specialist, and astoundingly, he happened to work in the same office as my reproductive endocrinologist.  Unfortunately, even though he was only an OB/GYN, since he was affiliated with a fertility clinic my insurance wouldn’t pay.  In the meantime, I rather foolishly attempted another IUI and another IVF, thinking since he had taken the scar tissue out, all systems were a go!  More early miscarriages…more failure. 

I did a little more research and heard of something called ovarian drilling as a treatment for PCOS.  I was bound and determined that all the other doctors were incapable of cleaning me up properly inside, and I would go see this specialist, ask him to do the job, and at the same time perform the ovarian drilling.  It’s a procedure that has less than a 50% chance of inducing ovulation, and even less getting pregnant, but at this point, I decided I was done with the fertility treatments.  I couldn’t take ANYMORE hormones or procedures that caused my ovaries to swell with pain.  The drilling had at least a small chance of getting me pregnant naturally.  However, we had no means of paying for it all.  So after three years of me being in and out of employment and on and off bed rest, all the while paying in part for fertility treatments, we ended up putting our first home, a house we poured our hearts and souls into fixing up, on the market.

I marched into this specialist’s office with such enthusiasm that I’d found my savior.  I told him my story, and again, by this time another 8 months had passed since my second surgery, and the intolerable daily pain was back.  I told him I wanted the ovarian drilling, and if he could clean up any remaining scar tissue in my uterus (properly) as well as any endometrial implants I thought I had a shot.  He stopped me dead in my tracks.  He refused to do the drilling on the grounds that he was concerned about creating more scar tissue on my ovaries and causing more pain.  He told me it was time to consider giving up, and in his best judgment I should probably just get a hysterectomy. 

Like I said, I considered it, and quite seriously.  I was enduring a lot of pain at the time.  But after attending NYU, Drexel University, SUNY Cortland and Cornell for three different majors, the only thing I was ever sure of in my life was that I wanted to be a mom.  And not just be a mom, but HAVE a baby – hopefully several.  It was the only thing I’ve ever felt in my heart that I knew I wanted to do and be.  I couldn’t give up.  I also knew deep down that if I gave up then, that I would hold such deep resentment for the rest of my life for those incompetent idiots that had failed in my care all of those years.  And not just the ones for the 3 years prior, but all those doctors who never recognized the signs of my PCOS and endometriosis all along, and never treated me until my PCOS had progressed to the point where I gained 60 pounds in two years regardless of changing my diet and exercising, and my endometriosis was getting me hospitalized for menstrual cramps.  I had to at least try one last time with someone who I felt confident in, so that if it didn’t work after that I could be more at peace.

I went back into his office teary-eyed, and literally begged and pleaded.  I told him that “no” was not an option.  He very reluctantly agreed, and the surgery was scheduled just 2 weeks before we closed on our house and moved.  We paid for the surgery with what we made off of the sale of our home, and moved into my mother in law’s house.  Leaving our first home to move into someplace where another’s belongings occupied every nook and cranny was not easy. 

The surgery was a phenomenal success.  The first month immediately after, I ovulated completely naturally but did not get pregnant.  The second month, I got pregnant with our first daughter!  Of course, even that had a roller coaster start.  Initially some things were spotted on the ultrasound that were perceived as loose blood, and no heartbeat was detected by 7 weeks.  I was told to go home and wait to miscarry.  I remember very unsuccessfully attempting to work at the coffee shop where I was employed at the time, but being set into an emotional frenzy by every little cramp waiting for the bleeding to start.  They were convinced since my HCG levels were so high, there had to have been a heartbeat.  After a week of no bleeding, I returned to the doctor where there was not only a heartbeat, but the source of my astronomical HCG levels, as well as what was originally thought to be loose blood – 2 other gestational sacs!  We went from one to none to potentially THREE!  Fortunately the other two never got to the heartbeat stage, so there was no sense of loss.  Because of my PCOS I had not only ovulated, but done so 3 times all on my own.  So everything is always possible. 

Since having my daughter, my cycles have never been more regular, and more pain free.  In my entire life I never experienced anything like it – even as a 14 year old.  I continued to nurse because I felt that had to be contributing to the hormonal balance.  I got pregnant about 15 months after giving birth, but lost it in the first few weeks.  But we continued to try – month after month peeing on sticks, let down after let down.  I would cry when I would see friends post pictures of their adorable families, with my heart aching because I knew my daughter would make such an amazing big sister.  I felt the clock ticking away as I knew I couldn’t nurse my daughter forever, in what I perceive to be the driving factor in my hormone balance right now.  Finally, 26 months after giving birth I got pregnant again, 100% percent naturally.  After going through all of this, not only was it looking like we’d never have any children, but we never, ever dreamed we’d be able to have another.  

There are no words to describe the gratitude my husband and I feel in our hearts that we were successful in the end, and will now have the family we’ve always wanted.  Lucky?  Absolutely.  Some may say miraculous, and many say god had a hand in it all.  That’s your choice to believe, but since I don’t believe in god, miracles, etc... I can only affirm that had I not continued to search for answers, simply rolled over and refused to take control of my own treatment, not demanded to be properly cared for and refused to take “no” for an answer…I would be childless today.  We are ecstatic about our upcoming arrival in May.  Four years ago I never would’ve imagined we’d be where we are today – awaiting our second child.  It CAN happen.  There is always a chance that it will!

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.