“Our Son is My Hero”

By Badass Kortney

I’m the mother of five beautiful children and wife to an amazing man.  Our oldest son, Hutson is 11, then we have a set of boy/girl twins, Deacon and Finley who will be 3 next week and then our second set of boy/girl twins, Piper and Harvey.  We did IVF to conceive both sets of twins after 6 years of secondary infertility.  I was able to breastfeed my first set of twins for 16 months before they self weaned.  Piper and Harvey are 8 months old and still going strong.  This is my story…

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The week of Sept 8th there was a virus sweeping through our house.  All of the kids were catching it one after the other starting with the oldest.  It was just a low grade fever and cough.  It seemed to last about 3-4 days and then it was done.  Harvey was the last to catch it and had just been running a bit of a fever but that was really it.  On Sept 18th I put him to bed after nursing him like every other night.  The morning of Sept 19th he woke up crying, I went to get him and change his diaper and he had a stuffy nose and was coughing.  I changed his diaper quickly and started cleaning off his nose.  He started gagging and turned blue.  I picked him up and leaned him forward to help him get the mucus out of his throat.  He threw up and started crying.  It scared me so bad.

I thought he would be better by day 3 and he seemed to be worse.  So I got on the phone with the pediatrician to see if I could get him in.  The earliest appointment they had was 3:30.  I took it but still felt uneasy.  He had fallen back asleep in my arms.  I decided I’d check his temp and try to nurse him.  He had a low grade temp so I sat down to nurse him.  He would latch for just a second and then pull away and gasp.  By this point I was scared.  Something was wrong. I tried to get him to wake up but his eyes just rolled back in his head and he was limp.  I was shaking as I called my husband and told him to meet me at the ER.  As calmly as I could I got Deacon and Finley in their carseats and buckled up.  Then I got Piper and Harvey in their carseats and headed to the ER.  I kept reaching back and grabbing Harvey’s hand to make sure he was still conscious.  He would grip my finger.  We don’t live far from the ER and my husband got there before I got him out of the car.  He stayed with the other kids while I took Harvey in.  He just snuggled into my arms and slept.  They took us back immediately and checked vitals and everything was fine.  We waited for the doctor and I asked if I could nurse him.  I tried again and he puked.  He was lifeless.

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They decided to start an IV to get fluids in him as he was dehydrated.  He hasn’t nursed since going to bed the night before.  They tried ELEVEN times to start an IV.  He never flinched.  By this time I was sick…something was very wrong.  I asked that we take him upstairs to the pediatric unit.  After a nasty remark by the nurse I was shown up stairs.  The nurses knew right away something wasn’t right and the doctor on call was right by my side in an instant.  They realized they wouldn’t be able to get an IV b/c his veins were so small and the ER nurses had blown any that he did have.  So they did an IO line in his fibula (its an IV that goes into the bone).  They pumped him with fluids and the doctor said he needed to be admitted but I’d have to go back to the ER to do that.  After what seemed like forever but was really about an hour we got admitted and back to the pediatric unit.  The doctor ordered a spinal tap and CT scan.  She had the results of the CT within 30 minutes and that’s when she told us he had extra fluid/blood in his brain and what appeared to be a cyst.  We would have to be transported to the Children’s hospital and see a Pediatric Neurologist.  But she thought that the extra fluid and “cyst” could be pushing on something and causing him to be so sleepy.

An ambulance came and transported us to the other hospital.  By this time my mother in law had gotten to our house to stay with the older 3 kids and my husband was with me and he had Piper so I could continue to nurse her.  We got to the Children’s hospital around 10pm on Friday night and they started assessing him.  They needed to get an IV started b/c an IO can’t stay in for more than a few hours.  They had taken him straight to the PICU and several nurses looked him over looking for a good vein.  He had nothing.  They ended up calling the Medivac team to come in and see if they could help.  These women were amazing.  They only poke him twice and they got 2 IVs started.  Several Neurologists had come in and it was decided he had too much pressure on his brain for the fluid/blood and he needed an EVD (Drain).  They had ordered an MRI to be done but said it would be Sunday before they could do it.  This is something I was not happy about.  He was completely lifeless… something was very wrong and I wanted this “cyst” gone. The EVD was placed and he was finally able to rest but I couldn’t hold him anymore.  Watching my baby lie there, completely helpless was the most painful thing I had ever done.  As we waited for the MRI on Sunday my husband was bringing Piper to me every 3-4 hours so she could nurse.  She couldn’t go in the PICU so I had to nurse her in the waiting room while my husband set with Harvey.

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Around 1:30 Saturday afternoon Harvey moaned so I jumped up to check on him and he had dumped 58cc of blood into his drain.  He had been putting out 10-15 cc an hour so that was a lot.  I called the nurse and she was shocked to.  The Neurologist came in and seemed baffled as to why he would have dumped so much so fast.  I asked if we could please to do MRI now and he told me again that they couldn’t do it until Sunday.  So I asked for a CT scan.  Just to compare to the day before to make sure the “cyst” hadn’t ruptured or something.  Thankfully he agreed to the CT scan.  He was taken immediately.  It was done pretty fast and they brought him back to the room and started hooking him back up when they came in and said, “Get him intubated, he’s getting an MRI NOW!”  I don’t know what they saw on the scan but things got serious real quick.  I wasn’t sure what to think I just knew I was glad they decided to take me serious.  I may not know much but I know my kids and I knew something was VERY wrong.

They said it would take a few hours for the MRI results so I decided to try and get some sleep.  At 1:30am I was woken up to a room for of doctors.  One of them started talking to me about what they saw on the MRI.  Harvey had a brain aneurysm that had ruptured.  Had he not gotten the drain 12 hours earlier he would not have survived the rupture.  Nothing else they told me mattered.  We needed to do whatever it was going to take to fix him.  I was terrified.  I called my husband and told him what I knew at that point which wasn’t much, he has an aneurysm and needs surgery within the next 12-18 hours.  They were sending the surgeon to talk to me as soon as he had a plan.  My husband and Piper came to the hospital so he could be there when the doctor arrived.

Apparently this isn’t something that happens to babies.  This happens to adults in their 60s.  The doctors were baffled.  They had no answers as to why it happened but they knew it needed to be fixed.  The surgeon talked to us about the risks of surgery and there was no question other than, “When can we do it?”  We were absolutely terrified.  We were told he would need therapy to regain strength and learn how to roll over again, sit up and crawl.  He could lose most of his fine motor skills.  On Sunday, September 21st Harvey was taken in for surgery.  He was in surgery for 7 hours.  They were able to successfully clip one of the aneurysms but there was another one.  A much larger one but it was clotted and had no active blood flow so they decided to leave it and see if it would reabsorb like it was supposed to.  We would follow up 10 days later with an angiogram to see if the surgery was successful.

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The next several days were the worst.  Seeing our baby intubated, his head cut up and beginning to swell.  He no longer looked like himself.  His eyes swollen shut.  It took about 4 days for the swelling to go down before he could open his eyes.  He still had so much fluid and pressure on his brain though.  He would try to move his arms and he started kicking his legs.  Two things I had prayed we would see again.  Five days after his surgery I was able to nurse him for the first time.  It had been a week since I had nursed him and I was anxious, scared, excited.  I didn’t know if he would know what to do or not.  But he latched on immediately and started gulping.  So much so that he started vomiting.  I was crushed but determined to get him better I asked if I could give him 1 oz bottle of the breastmilk I had been pumping.  I knew his tummy wasn’t ready for the meal he was wanting.  So over the next several hours I gave him a 1 oz bottle and he gulped it down.  After he kept down a few I decided to try nursing him again.  He nursed like a champ and kept it down!

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The next few days were filled with EEGs, Echo of his heart, bloodwork… so much bloodwork and another CT and MRI.  At this point it was a waiting game.  We wouldn’t know much until the angiogram.  Every day he looked better though.  He was nursing longer each time and even started fussing between feedings to nurse even more. My husband continued to bring Piper to me throughout the day and the other kids got to come visit me every other day.  We were lucky enough to have my mother in law, sister and mom be able to help out and stay with them at the house so my husband wasn’t packing them around all day.  He started OT and PT almost immediately and they were amazed at his daily progress.  He was slowly turning into himself again.  But the one thing I had wanted more than anything still hadn’t happened.  I needed a smile.  On day 10 he had his angiogram.  That was the longest 90 minutes of our lives.  But all was clear.  The aneurysms were GONE!   He still had a lot of blood and his ventricles were still enlarged but he didn’t need another surgery.  We were so relieved.  That meant he could really start healing.

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Two weeks after we went to the ER, twelve days after he went through surgery he smiled at me while he nursed.  He looked up at me and smiled, milk drooling out of his mouth.  It was that moment I knew everything was going to be ok.  My baby boy was back.  He hasn’t stopped smiling since.  He’s had a couple more CT scans and they show less blood and smaller ventricles each time.  He’s becoming more active and much more vocal every day.  He now knows it just takes a little fussing and I’ll nurse and snuggle him.  Today is day 20 and we are beginning to wean him off of his drain.  We have to be sure that his brain can properly reabsorb the fluid before it’s removed.  If it can’t then a shunt will have to be placed.  But considering 20 days ago our son could have died, a shunt is the least of our worries.  I never imagined as a parent I’d feel so helpless.  I never imagined something like this could happen to us.  This has turned our world upside down.  Every day I hold my breath fearing we will have a setback or they’ll tell me something else is wrong but this little man has proved everyone wrong.  He’s proved to us all what a fighter he is.  Our son is my hero.  He has given me the strength to endure things I never imagined as a parent.  This has bonded my husband and me together in a way I never knew we needed.  As much as I want to ask “Why him? Why us?”  I won’t.  It happened.  It has been a struggle but we are all still here, we are all still fighting and we will take Harvey home.  Not everyone is so lucky to leave this hospital with their baby in their arms.

How and Why to Stir the Pot

How to Stir the Pot

This is the easy part.

1. State your opinion about anything.

2. Post a photo of yourself breastfeeding. Or bottle-feeding. Or holding hands with someone of the same sex, holding hands with someone of a different race, with makeup, with no makeup, fat, skinny, with cleavage, without cleavage, eating a conventional (non-organic) apple. Or make a statement with a Democratic slant, a Republican slant, or thoughts on how to discipline children, or how to sleep with children, or how to drive, or what to do with your Tuesday afternoon–you see where I’m going with this. Opinions are something that we like to pretend we don’t care about, but we secretly care about more than anything else.

My mother-in-law told me that her local chicken Facebook group (yes, a group where people in the local neighborhood talk about raising their chickens) was split into 2 when the Admin (the Facebook group Admin who felt that this position provided him with a sort of authority over others) and a group member had a disagreement about something. I don’t know what the disagreement was. I am going to go out on a limb and say that it couldn’t have been that serious. But they are passionate about chickens and that’s cool.

I was also looking at recipes for something and I started to read the comments. I know, I know. You’re saying, “Never read the comments!” But it was a recipe so I figured I was safe and might find some fun alterations to it. Someone in the thread recommended using another type of vegetable and another person responded with something about “being judged.” My point is that you can post breastfeeding photos and the pot will be stirred, but it is not at all necessary to bare your breast. You can pretty much express yourself any way you want and you will likely agitate the subconscious of said pot.

3. All of this should be done over social media because nothing riles people up more than a little butthurt and some keyboard courage. But make sure you live your actual life with the same passion and courage for your cause or you’re just a fake, internet activist and that’s super lame. Social media is a great tool to mobilize people, but it can’t be your world. It is not the world. It’s a tool that is helping to change many things about the way like-minded people connect and “take to the streets” where real change is made.

 

Why to Stir the Pot

This is a bit more complicated, but much more interesting.

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I posted this meme (one of my first) in 2012 because in the short time I had been involved in Facebook I had heard many asinine arguments against breastfeeding, but there was one that I could not get over, still cannot get over. “I support breastfeeding, but… (as long as you cover, as long as you stop by 1 year old, as long as you don’t whip your tit out, as long as…)” and on and on with silly limitations and restrictions. I wanted to address this nonsense not only because I disagree with it, but because I know for a fact that there are women who choose not to breastfeed because of societal stigma surrounding it. Women who are perfectly informed about breastfeeding, women who have decided to bottle-feed not because it fits with their lifestyle or family situation or because breastfeeding didn’t work out or because it’s simply what they want to do, but because they want to avoid pressure and stigma from their fellow human beings surrounding breastfeeding. Even when it’s what they most want to do. That makes me mad. That is bullying. That is a sick society. I wanted to speak up for this group of women, help them to feel empowered and expose falsehoods that exist all over the breastfeeding world.

Part of me wants to laugh that breastfeeding is so controversial that it has literally opened up an entire career opportunity for myself and so many others, but then I realize that it is not funny at all. That it is in fact sick. It is symptomatic of a society that is not well. And for this reason I choose to stir the pot.

For the mother who is breastfeeding her baby, she is not making a statement, she is not putting on a show, she is not trying to get attention, she is not trying to stir the pot. However, I AM. When it’s my son and I alone, that is between him and me. When I post pictures on Facebook, when I write blogs, when I make memes, when I speak in public, I AM trying to stir the pot, to get a reaction, to get attention, to make a statement. And I do it because I believe that bringing attention to breastfeeding will help it become normalized. If just because people get sick of talking about it. But when my posts go viral, get seen by millions, have 3,000 comments behind them, it is clear to me that we have not yet gotten there. So here are some reasons to stir the pot:

1. To keep important issues at the front of people’s minds. It always kills me when people comment on social media with, “why are we still talking about breastfeeding?” Well, because I want to and you just did. So thanks for the comment and that much more Facebook visibility and attention to my cause! Personally I think it is a good sign when people get sick of the topic. That means it is getting so much attention that people are in the process of becoming desensitized to it. Which leads to the end goal of normalization.

2. To discover societal hang ups. I’ve posted a Nursing in Public (NIP) photo on Facebook a time or two. Reading comments on posts that went viral was a crash course in society’s views of NIP. I could then proceed to address the mass of misinformation and prejudices. If we don’t know why people have a problem with something then we can’t address it.

3. To challenge norms. There are a lot of things considered normal in our culture that are downright troubling. And things considered abnormal that are in fact normal. By pointing out flaws in thinking, strange evolutionary developments and our thoughtless behaviors we are challenging people to think about what they do.

4. To challenge authority. There are various forms of authority in our world and they are all cultural-bound. They are often perpetuating these troubling norms by threats of various kinds. This kind of authority is an illusion that we must expose.

5. To help our kids. Not only are you a role-modeling non-drone-like behavior to your children, you are teaching them to think critically. You are teaching them to challenge the world. You are teaching them to Question Everything. You change the world for the better. For the future. (And when they begin to challenge you, take it as a compliment.)

6. What are you doing here? If you’re not here to think, to challenge, to grow, to be a part of something then what are you doing? You are likely perpetuating some issue, some cause, that someone with some vision for the future is trying to make headway with. You are a drone. You are the enemy.

Am I a pot-stirrer, you ask? Yes, yes I am. I kind of like this subject. More to come…

 

Abby Theuring, MSW and Badass Pot- Stirrer

Breastfeeding in the Military: The Story of a Marine Mother

By Badass Meg

I never gave breastfeeding much thought. If you did you did and if you didn’t you didn’t. I was never the one to stare or praise or run and hide because I saw boob.  I was an active duty Marine when I became pregnant with my first. I still hadn’t given it much thought when I went in for a check up and my OB asked me how I was feeding DS. My husband started explaining we hadn’t talked about it and I piped up with breastfeeding. Walking out of that appointment I asked my husband exactly how I was supposed to do that because it truly dawned on me afterwards I had no idea what I was doing; my family just didn’t do that.

Over the coming months I went to all the breastfeeding classes the base offered and thought I was prepared. Looking back now I wish I’d skipped them because they were full of nothing but bad advice and booby traps.  When DS came everything seemed to be great. My milk came in with 25 hours of birth and I was super engorged. He had a great latch and was a champ, even the LC for the hospital said it. By week 4 of my 6 weeks of maternity leave something seemed off.  He took both sides for 20 minutes each and fell asleep with a smile. He pooped and peeped all day long but still something felt off. I took him into the ped and discovered his was failure to thrive. He was a pound under birth weight. The ped sent me up to the LC but she wasn’t available to see me for a few days. I was sent home with formula and told to give him a bottle of it until I could pump some breast milk. Not knowing any better I had bought a Playtex double pump simply because it matched my bottles. By the time I went to work my son was refusing the breast even with the SNS (Supplemental Nursing System) the LC had given us and I couldn’t pump more than 10 oz in a day using the lactina the WIC office gave me.

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The first place I was given to pump was the shower area of a bathroom because it was “separated” by a curtain. There was no office or conference room I was allowed to use despite that the military and the Marine Corps had policies stating I needed a space other than a bathroom. Finally a few weeks in I was given permission to use a old supply closet that I had to share with 7 other women. It was disgusting and we weren’t allowed to clean it but I had no real other option other than the bathroom again. About 5 months into my EPing for DS my unit finally gave us permission to us a barracks room across the road. It was a dream come true for all of us or at least we thought. More times than not when we went to get the key for the room we’d have to sit and listen to men and women  talk about how we needed to knock that off because that just wasn’t what boobs were for and we were so gross and just using it to be lazy and get out of work.

I EP’d for 13 months until I finally dried up. In that time I was constantly put down and told to stop that nasty stuff.  When I asked for permission to go and pump I was frequently made to wait 4-6 hours because something “had” to be done; mostly we sat around for no reason. I developed mastitis several times due to the waiting. Later I was diagnosed with IGT and insulin resistance which would help explain why I couldn’t produce enough. I took every pill, herb, food and drink under the sun that might possibly help. I sought help outside of the base and got a better pump, all of this was out of pocket because Tricare is not required to cover pumps or LCs even for active duty.

I knew having a family in the military would never be easy, but never in my life could I have ever imagined how horrible it would be. Some of the worst people were fathers and mothers themselves. I was just trying to give my son everything I could even if we had to supplement. Thankfully my contract ended and I just gave birth recently to my DD. We’re giving breastfeeding a try and I take every day I get with her as a true blessing even if supplementing is required at some point, because sometimes that just what breastfeeding looks like.

For more support and community for breastfeeding military moms visit Breastfeeding in Combat Boots.

Ask an Expert: Breastfeeding and Dental Cavities

By Wendy Wisner, IBCLC

***Ask an Expert is a blog feature hosted by a team of International Board Certified Lactation Consultants (IBCLCs). Once a month each IBCLC randomly chooses a question from The Badass Breastfeeder Facebook wall and provides their response on the blog.

Fan Question:

“I have a question. My 11 month daughter has a brown speck on one of her front teeth. I have been doing some research and it may be a cavity caused by night nursing. Has anyone had this problem? I’m taking her to the dentist tomorrow I’m just curious if this happens often. Thanks!”
I’m glad you’re taking your baby to a dentist to get a proper diagnosis.  Stains on teeth can be caused by any number of things.  I hope it’s not a cavity!

If it is a cavity, the first thing to do is to make sure you have a breastfeeding-friendly dentist.  Unfortunately, many dentists believe that breastfeeding causes cavities, and recommend prompt weaning, especially at night.  But cavities should not mean automatic nightweaning.  If your dentist does not support your continuation of breastfeeding, ask your local breastfeeding support group for a dentist recommendation.

Breastfeeding in and of itself does not cause cavities.  First, unlike bottle feeding, breastmilk does not pool in a baby’s mouth all night.  Breastmilk only flows when a baby is actively sucking (and swallowing).  Breastmilk actually contains anti-cavity agents like lactoferrin, which kills the bacteria that causes cavities.  I have helped many older babies and toddler breastfeeding and the vast majority do not get cavities.

But under certain conditions and with other risk factors present, breastfeeding can contribute to the formation of cavities.  It is theorized that certain children are born with vulnerable tooth enamel.  Cavities are caused by the bacteria Strep mutans, so early exposure to these bacteria (usually when sharing utensils with a caregiver) can also increase the risk.  Studies have shown that breastmilk alone is similar to water, and does not cause decay.  However, when mixed with solid food, breastmilk becomes cariogenic (cavity causing).

So it is important to keep your baby’s teeth clean once he or she starts eating solids.  If your daughter does have decay, you will need to be vigilant about cleaning her teeth before she nurses to sleep (for night and naps).

Topical fluoride treatments can halt the decay.  Xylitol paste helps stop the growth of cavity-causing bacteria.  And there are other, more holistic treatments that are worth investigating.  Cavities can be halted, and breastfeeding can continue as normal.

Here is a great, thorough article about breastfeeding and tooth decay: http://kellymom.com/health/baby-health/tooth-decay/

And here is my personal account of nursing a toddler who had cavities: http://www.lalecheleague.org/nb/nbiss1-10p20.html

unnamedWendy Wisner is a Board Certified Lactation Consultant (IBCLC), writer, and mother of two amazing boys.  In addition to her work with breastfeeding moms, she has published two books of poems, and a handful of articles about mothering and breastfeeding.  She blogs at www.nursememama.com.

Suckin’ Me Dry

I have shared many blog posts lately about the tough times in parenting, breastfeeding and breastfeeding a toddler. The most frequent response I get, even when talking about how weaning is not right for Jack and I just yet, is that I should wean Jack. “It’s just time. You need to wean him.” Besides how obnoxious this type of “advice” is, it’s not really the point when talking about tough times.

Why is it that I need to wean my toddler because I am overwhelmed and stressed out? If this is right for you and your family then by all means do it! But I believe this perspective is directly related to the stigma in our culture surrounding breastfeeding toddlers. It’s not something we see very often, it’s seen as optional, extra, not really necessary; so if things are not perfect for you then breastfeeding that toddler must be the problem and you should knock it off!

If there is something going on with me then shouldn’t I be focusing on me? It’s not my kids that are victimizing me and causing me to feel certain feelings. It’s me. The breastfeeding relationship is a 2-way street, yes. And my feelings are just as important as my son’s, yes. But when considering emotional health it’s not the first place to look. The first place to look is within. What is going on with me?

Jack has adjusted to the birth of his brother pretty well. Those first few weeks were a nightmare, then it got a bit better, then a bit more, and today we feel chaotic and busy and crazy, but we also have a good routine and our family unit is full of love. We have come a long way in this short time. We are in a place I feared we would never get. We are so lucky.

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But Jack has continued to struggle with sleep. Since our lives are more hectic than ever and this affects Jack in many ways we decided it was time to get some help. Something that I had been avoiding for a long time. Something that is a bit taboo in the Attachment Parenting community where we are taught that things will even out if left to their natural devices. Well, I have learned, through my breastfeeding relationship with Elxey, that sometimes people need some help. And it’s OK to ask for it. I have thought for a long time that a sleep consultant might be in order for us, but I avoided it for fear that she would reprimand us for our parenting style. “You need to get that kid out of your bed, get him into his own room.” And the ever dreaded “Wean that toddler.”

I was referred to Rebecca Michi. We have been working with her for about a month or 2 now. We have gained a ton of knowledge about how Jack’s natural temperament affects his ability to fall asleep, how the brain makes melatonin, things in our environment that affect the ability of Jack’s brain to make melatonin, tips for day and nighttime routines, tips for gently handling tough behaviors and so much more. We have good days and bad days, but when I sit quietly and look at our lives the good days are building on each other every time they circle around.

One of the unexpected things that Rebecca has provided for me personally is a place to vent. I can say anything to her and she responds with support and no judgment. She also always has some tips or thought-provoking questions. This was her most recent message to me when I expressed to her that I was having a hard time remaining calm with Jack at bedtime.

When do you get some time to yourself? What do you do for yourself? I understand if you don’t get much, you have two young kids after all! I feel that you are not taking care of you. You are on the go from the crack on dawn until late at night and caring for two people who are so dependent on you is exhausting. I want you to be able to fill your cup, when your cup is full you are able to help everyone more. When your cup is empty you are running on empty and having nothing to give. So what do you do to fill your cup? What can you do to fill our cup? Going for a walk without the kids? Going to the gym (ugh!)? Painting class once a week? A quick coffee date with a friend at the weekend? Think of some ways you can fill our cup and give you some much needed time. 

My initial reaction was that it was true, but what am I supposed to do about it? A few seconds later I was literally having a panic attack. This. This was the answer to everything right now. Where am I in all of this? I am barely treading water. I have given up showers, eating, peeing, getting dressed, combing my hair; not to mention reading, sitting quietly, writing for enjoyment, hot baths, listening to music and other things that fill my cup. It seems that we moms are always putting ourselves last. My husband says, “You have to remember that thing about the oxygen masks on airplanes. Put yours on first and then help those around you.”

So where could I find time for me? What would I do with that time? Would I even know myself well enough anymore to be able to plan something? Holy shit, someone was actually asking about me! I started to feel excited. I mean, I like me! How cool would it be to spend time with her?! Less than a day later I am here, by myself, at a local café, writing this blog post. I am writing it for me. I am writing it so that I can process my feelings about this. I am writing this so that I can rediscover who I am, how I got so far away from me and how I can rekindle this romance with myself.

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I was going to put a picture here of me alone, but turns out there aren’t any. Anywhere. 

There is a belief in the extremist AP community (in which I spent most of my early motherhood) that you shouldn’t spend time away from your kids and if you do you should at least hate it. I remember when Jack was very young I couldn’t imagine being away from him. Noe of my friends ever left their kids. I read all sorts of posts about how balance means something new now. “Free time is family time.” I left him for short periods of time a couple of times when I absolutely had to like to meet with HR to quit my job. Besides that I never left him. Ever. I believed that self-care now had to involve him; involve the whole family. I felt I wasn’t truly AP if I ever left him to be alone. That would be selfish. I think I am starting to believe that self-care isn’t truly self-care unless you are alone. Or maybe what I believe even more than that is that self-care looks different for each mother. And only she herself can decide what that is. Which is why Rebecca was asking me how I can fill my cup.

For me, self-care is fully disengaging from my family for a period of time to recharge my batteries, center my thinking and stimulate myself in a very different way than I am stimulated most of the time. I’ve spent 3 years now identifying myself as, “mother, blogger, social worker, advocate, public speaker” that I forgot to identify myself as Abby. Abby Theuring. Abigail Teresa Theuring. Individual. Fucking ME.

What do I like? Green Day. Loud music. Punk Rock. Heavy Metal. Books. Writing. Walking Fast. Magazines. Hot Bubble Baths. The Bachelor. Crocheting. Painting. Laughing With Friends. Photography. Talking Loud. Crossword Puzzles. Shopping. Eating. And so much more that I have let slip away since Jack was born. This is ME!

Turns out this really has nothing to do with breastfeeding.

Oh, what a tangled web this parenting stuff turned out to be.

Abby Theuring, MSW

 

 

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