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A Quiet Example
Welcome to the May Carnival of Natural Parenting: Role model This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama. This month our participants have waxed poetic about how their parenting has inspired others, or how others have inspired them. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants. *** In 2005, we had a baby. We used midwifery care. We had a home birth. We had a son and we did not circumcise him. We used a cloth diaper service. We breastfed. Aaron and I were the first in our group of friends to have kids. At first it was kind of strange and we felt like outsiders among them. Life had changed in that instant, punch-in-the-face kind of way that seems normal among first time parents, and we found ourselves withdrawing from our childless friends. Out of necessity, we hunkered in and learned to parent. Along the way, one-by-one our friends joined us in parenthood. Five years later, nine of the couples that we regularly associated with back then either have kids or are pregnant. In this group of nine couples, seven used (or are using) midwifery care. The two couples that didn’t were pregnant with twins. Only one birth was by cesarean (and it was one of the twin births). Two couples had their babies at home and two more couples are currently planning home births. Surrounded by these people, I often make the mistake of thinking that midwifery care and home birth are more widespread than they are. But when you look at the data, a different picture emerges. According to the most recent reports from the BC Perinatal Health Program, only 5.8% of births in BC were attended by a midwife (versus 78% in our friends), and 29.3% of births were by cesarean section (versus 14% in our friends). In 2007/2008, there were 671 home births out of a total 43,505 births which gives us a home birth rate of 1.5%. If all goes as planned, the home birth rate among our friends will be 44%. Why is it that our group of friends has this vastly different set of statistics for their births? I suppose it is partly demographic. Perhaps we share similar mentalities that would predispose us towards these kinds of choices: cloth diapering, eating organic, and so on. We are friends for a reason. But it’s not like our friends are hippies. Overall, most of our friends are regular people, professionals, home owners. Aaron and I were probably closest to the home birth “type” – you know, living in a bus and sporting dreads and all. When I look at the numbers though and realize how different our group is from the rest of the province, I would like to think that maybe we were a positive example to our friends. I tried not to be preachy but I answered questions when they came our way. I only remember a few conversations and no one has ever said that we influenced them. I don’t take credit for their decisions. After all, I don’t think anyone chooses home birth because their friends did. You have to make that choice for yourself and you don’t make it lightly. You ask questions. You read. You talk to your caregiver. Yet, even knowing one person who has actually had a home birth can demystify it for you. Every single person who uses a midwife or has a baby at home helps to normalize birth options for everyone they know. Even if you never really talk about it you become a shining example that there is another way, that there are choices. So in some small way, I like to think that we did have a role to play, that we were a positive influence among our friends. Maybe when they walked into their first appointment with a midwife and she offered them a choice of birth place, they didn’t brush it off as quickly as they might...
Read MoreStages of Motherhood
I have been surrounded by mothers of babies at a few recent events. Play groups. La Leche League meetings. Now that my youngest is coming up on two years old, I’m definitely not a mother of a baby anymore and around these moms chatting, I find myself falling silent, receding into the background and just listening. It’s become obvious to me why we tend to gravitate to mothers whose children are the same age as our own. Sure, it’s partly because they play well together and we can commiserate about ages and stages and share tips. But it’s also because we mothers are at the same stage of development. Here are some of the stages as I experienced them: The Bi-Polar Stage The first 2 months with a newborn hold wild swings from low to high. They are the days of being on cloud nine, elated and blissed out by this new being, by this new family unit you created. They are the days of utter and bewildering lack of confidence, of feeling completely out of your element and overwhelmed. You have no idea how in 3-36 hours your former life disappeared forever. You feel completely turned around and your emotions swing like a pendulum as you try desperately through a fog of sleeplessness and round the clock feedings to regain your footing. These are the days of questions, always questions. Questions for the midwife, for the lactation consultant, for your mom, for every parent you know or meet. The False Confidence Stage When your baby is about 6 months old you come out of your shell. You get talkative. You have opinions. You’re more confident about mothering and feel that you just might know what you’re doing. You’re getting the swing of it. But you’ve also had to eat your words on more than one occasion. You’ve found yourself doing things you swore you’d never do. You see the other side of the fence now so you’re also quick to talk about being more accepting of other parenting styles. You freely admit how wrong you were and you make an effort to be less judgmental. You know now how hard it can be, how motherhood doesn’t always line up neatly with your expectations, how intensely unique a baby’s personality can be from day one. All the while, you don’t quite realise that you’re going to get knocked on your ass a few more times before you get less vocal. You’ve come through the honeymoon and down the other side so you think you finally have it figured out but you don’t realise that you’re still residing in the baby realm. You’re stoked to share these moments of personal growth, these lessons because they were so profound, but nevertheless you mistake the journey of the last six months for a much longer one. You still don’t realise how much more awaits you. You feel like a weathered mother when the reality is that you’re still very green. Very green indeed. I’ve gone through both of these stages twice. I’ve done all of those things and I’ve watched other moms go through them too. Yet, it seems easier to identify the stages after you have passed through them than it is to pinpoint where you are at any given moment. As I watch these young mothers, I see my past self distinctly. I was there once. But it is a past self, which is why I tend to recede into the background when they start talking. They are getting support and nourishment from others at the same stage, and I am no longer there. Now, my children are 4.5 and almost 2. I’m struggling with discipline issues and sibling issues. I’m struggling with scary identity issues now as I begin to get more freedom again and as I face the possibility that my childbearing days are over. I’ve realised that though it seemed I learned so much and came so far in the first 6 months of parenting, it was just a blip compared to the learning associated with having...
Read MoreWrite Your Bio Challenge
Last fall, I wrote an essay and submitted it to Mothering magazine for publication–it was politely declined–and one of the submission guidelines was to include a short bio. More recently, I started working part-time as the office administrator for a local midwifery clinic. They have requested a bio and a picture for their website. These two unrelated events have shown me that nothing, absolutely nothing, not even a dirty toilet bowl, can strike me with paralytic procrastination like a request for a bio. I might even have scrubbed a clean toilet bowl rather than write these bios.(Ok, not likely). The bio for my essay did get done eventually, but the other one is still in extreme draft stage, probably due in part to the added difficulty of choosing a photo to go with it. Why is it so bloody hard to write a bio? I’d wager that part of it is that it really is hard to sum yourself up in just 2 sentences unless you’re one of those die-hard people that lives exclusively to throw themselves off cliffs using various types of sporting equipment. It seems easier to tell people what you’re all about when you’re extremely into stuff than if you’re a dabbler. What about when you’re a mom of young kids that take up a lot of your time, energy and focus? What if you haven’t earned a pay cheque (other than maternity leave) in the last 4 years? What if you never had a career and your degree was in General Studies? What about when your hobbies are a melange of this and that, with nothing that really stands out as defining you? I have seen introductions on various parenting boards that go something like this: “Hi, I’m Jane (32), wife to John (36), married on June 23 2001, mom to Jack (4) and Hannah (9 months),” and I vowed never to have a bio like that. I vowed that my bio would always be about more than the dates of when I got married and had kids. I vowed that there was more to me than that, despite the fact that my family really is that important to me. Especially lately I feel that the things that were defining parts of me have slipped away and I sometimes don’t know what’s left in this in-between-projects stage. Two years ago, my bio would have said this: Alison lives with her husband in their converted 40′ school bus, Eliza Brownhome. She runs an online store selling homebirth supplies and advocating for midwifery care. She is mom to a 2.5 year old boy and is expecting her second child in July. She likes to play with web design and is learning to knit. The current version of that bio goes something like this: Alison lives in a house that she keeps tidy but only moderately clean. She has a beloved empty 40′ school bus growing moss in a friend’s yard. She is a wife and a mother to two kids (4.5 and almost 2). She drives them around in a mini-van. She wastes a lot of time on twitter and facebook and though she knows how to knit, she only finishes 2 projects a year. Ok, so part of the problem is that I really am between things right now. Life has been in transition for the last two years and I was completely ok with waiting that out. But now, I see that we’re at a place where I can start moving again. And I’m faced with those Questions: What next? What do I want? Who am I? The other part is one of perspective and attitude. Though I was joking around, you can still tell that the second bio is written by someone who feels lost and doesn’t give herself credit. If I was looking at my life from the outside, would it be easier to see the themes? If I was looking at my days through a positive lens, would it be easier to talk about accomplishments? How about you? Would you find it...
Read MoreTurn It Up
This morning, the first thing I have to say is that I Love (with a capital L) Amber Strocel’s series Crafting My Life. It happens on Thursdays and happens to be one of the reasons I like Thursdays. Our kids are the same age (reversed genders though) and she got laid off from her job at the same time as I sold my business. I relate to her series about finding out what you want for yourself while managing the needs and wants of two tiny people. She had good things to say when I asked the Twitterverse about Mondo Beyondo – and I’m glad she did because I really loved taking the class. This month her theme for Crafting My Life is dealing with negativity. All month, I’ve thought to myself, “What could I possibly have to say about dealing with negativity that wouldn’t be negative?!” I read her posts every week and found myself nodding, but it was speechless nodding. It wasn’t the nodding of someone who had something to add. You want to know why? Because my lizard brain, my protective (overbearing) negative voice isn’t just an occasional visitor, it’s a major part of who I am. I was diagnosed with major clinical depression when I was 21. That was all a long time ago. But even when I’m not clinically depressed, I consider myself a depressive. Kind of like an alcoholic might never think of themselves as cured, I think I will have to be on guard my whole life for those moments of slipping down the slope into a dark hole. I’m prone to negative thinking, pretty much all the time. I’m socially anxious. I’m a glass half empty kind of person. I don’t give myself enough credit. My self-esteem is in the moderate range. Oh and I worry. A lot. I used to spend a lot of time trying to be different. But in the last few years, I’ve decided to be kinder to myself and I have come to accept a lot of these things are just a part of me. It’s ok to be introverted and shy (even if they aren’t our cultural ideal). I remember hearing about studies that showed that pessimists actually have a more realistic world view than do the optimists. I might prefer to wear the rose coloured glasses more often, but at least it’s reassuring to know that I’m not delusional. Most of the time. I have come to accept that worrying, or preparing myself for the worst case scenario, is part of how I process things. I don’t do well with surprises, especially negative surprises so it helps me to work through the what ifs ahead of time. Usually–always?–the result is that things go far far better than I had anticipated. And that makes me happy. It’s all well and good to be accepting of my quirks but I can also waste a lot of energy on negative what if scenarios and sometimes–often?–it holds me back from doing things. That part isn’t so great. So what are the ways I cope with negativity? I’m not going to lie to you, sometimes it takes a good cry. But sometimes, it’s a really quick fix. It’s to put on an amazing song and TURN IT UP. Turn up the volume and turn up your attitude. This song has been with me for a long time. It came to me in those dark days when I was young and I lived in a big old house with 5 friends. My room was on the top floor and had big windows and a balcony. It was a hot summer evening, the house was quiet and the night air was just shaking my curtains as I listened to CBC’s late night jazz show After Hours. The song touched me deep in my soul. Listening to that voice, those horns, even a depressive had to admit that life is full of moments for Feeling Good. More recently, it was this song that made my heart sing: I heard a cover of...
Read MoreStop The Cycle – Cry It Out pt. 2
Last week at my local La Leche League meeting the topic for discussion was adapting to motherhood and one of the questions was “What did you to do to help your baby adjust to life outside the womb?” A young mother of a 2.5 month old baby responded by saying that she had let her baby cry and that it had been the good thing for him because now he is sleeping well. She went on to say that it had been terrible and that she herself had cried the first few times but that it had been the right thing to do. Considering the group, which was primarily made up of proponents of attachment parenting, the resulting discussion was incredibly supportive, thanks to the stealthy handling of our leader. She steered the conversation away from the specifics and toward the need to recognize that every baby is different, that every mom knows best what her baby needs and that we need to support each other in that. One of the other mothers piped up to say that she too had used sleep training with her baby and often felt judged for it. Some others brought up that they felt judged for going to their babies when they cried, and for not sleep training. Everyone reiterated that mothers know what is best for their babies. I was impressed with how the situation was handled but I sat quietly through the entire discussion. I am fervently opposed to crying-it-out (and you can read why here). I don’t believe it’s one of those minor parenting differences that we all have to accept each other on, like whether we cloth diaper or use disposables, whether we breastfeed for 12 months or 24, whether or not we use rewards for behaviour modification, or for that matter whether or not we use sleep training methods on older babies. I don’t believe that letting a 10 week old baby cry-it-out is just fodder for the mommy wars. The cry-it-out (CIO) method is not a choice that families come up with of their own accord. I am fairly certain that if every family were left to their own devices, to trust themselves, to trust their babies, the cry-it-out method would die out because it goes against our very instincts. Every evolutionary biological maternal instinct we have tells us to go to, pick up, and soothe a baby who is crying. This young mother said herself that it was terrible and she cried the first few times she tried the method. An article I read while researching this post reiterated that point: The first night I cried for over an hour, long enough that my mom finally had to take a break and walk around the neighborhood while my dad kept watch. Anecdotally, I hear that over and over from moms, even those who are huge supporters of CIO. We all seem to think that parents and babies have to toughen up, that if they all just suck it up for a few days (or weeks) they’ll be the better for it, because someone wiser and more experienced said that this is what we are supposed to do. The only reason we continue as a society to use this method is because of pressures coming from outside the walls of our homes and I am beginning to think that we have a responsibility to stop this insanity. You think it’s harsh to call it insanity? Try this perspective: Leaving a baby to cry is a method that was popularized by doctors and paediatricians from the turn of the 20th century. This was a time when influential men like Luther Emmett Holt (1855 – 1924) and Truby King (1858-1938) were telling mothers that a strict schedule of feeding and sleeping should be kept. Their advice included encouraging regular bowel movements from the time the baby was younger than 2 months old by holding the baby over a basin and inserting soap suppositories, rubber tubing or an oiled cone into the baby’s rectum at the same time every day!! This...
Read MoreNot For Us – Cry It Out Pt. 1
Last week I ended up in a group setting where I sat quietly by as a new mother explained that she had let her 10 week old son cry it out. I had no idea how to respond. Mere hours before I had posted the following on my Facebook page: Young babies cannot tell time. They have no way of knowing that it’s been only 5 min or 5 hours since they last saw you. They also do not have object permanence which means that if they can’t see, touch, smell or hear you, it’s the same as if you don’t exist. When they call for you and you don’t come, they have no way of knowing that you are still there but in the other room. Talk about terrifying: to be helpless and your primary caregiver no longer exists. No wonder their little brains are flooded with stress hormones. BBC News – Crying-it-out ‘harms baby brains’ news.bbc.co.uk Dr Penelope Leach says recent scientific tests show high levels of the stress hormone cortisol develop in babies when no one answers their cries. I should be clear here that I am talking about young babies. Newborns. Infants. Babies under 6 months old for sure (regarding the reference to object permanence). Newborns cry because they are hungry, cold, tired or need their mothers. They do not cry to manipulate. They cry to tell you they have needs that must be met. For older babies, over 6 months, over 1 year, various methods of sleep training is perhaps an issue of personal parenting choice. I personally still try to avoid it but I can see that modified versions of cry-it-out, like crying-in-arms or Dr. Jay Gordon’s advice can be helpful, especially for working mothers. I concede that willingly. Older babies can learn to wait occasionally (ask any mother of more than 1 child). Older babies do need to be taught that sometimes they have to go to sleep when they would rather play. Older babies can be taught sleep associations that do not involve wearing out her mother. But a 10 week old baby? No. That baby is crying to tell you something. There are plenty of articles and studies out there that discuss why CIO (cry-it-out) is harmful. This one discusses the history of the practice and offers an alternative: crying in arms. This one discusses attachment theory. These articles are only a drop in the bucket on the subject and both are well researched and referenced. I wholeheartedly agree with Dr. Leach that leaving a young infant to cry is damaging to the brain as well as to the baby’s emotional development, and to the relationship between mother and child in terms of the child trusting that their caregiver will respond to their needs, requests for help. Crying is the young infant’s primary form of communication. They need to trust that you will respond to them when they communicate and that trust is vital to ongoing attempts to forge a bond of attachment. I don’t use this word attachment in a fluffy way; I am talking about the attachment that psychologists study in humans and in animals as being necessary to our very survival. Perhaps the main reason for the persistence of the CIO method is the misunderstanding that it works. Certainly, many babies do eventually stop crying and sleep, but unfortunately, this is often cited as being linked with the baby becoming so stressed that he or she simply shuts down as a means of coping with extremely overwhelming negative emotions, similar to victims of post traumatic stress disorder. These babies pass out from exhaustion and fear, from crippling levels of stress hormones in their tiny developing brains. They do not go to sleep because they have learned to self-soothe. Given the new body of sophisticated, cross-discipline research on attachment and brain development outlined in this article, it is clear that a baby’s willingness to accept sleep training after reportedly brief periods of protest is no less than a cycle of hyperarousal and dissociation responses that is damaging to...
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