Musing on Unlawful Removal From Businesses

The following is expanded from journal posts made over the course of the two days following the incident.

 
On Sunday, January 13, 2008 at around 4:45 pm, my rights as a breastfeeding mother were violated. I was shopping at Hot Topic with my Christmas money and had collected a few items to buy (including a couple of kick ass onesies). Lilly was toddling around and slipped. She banged her head on a shelf and started crying. I tried to calm her down, but she was flipping out and wouldn't sit back in the stroller, so I sat down amidst the clearance shirts I was already looking at, out of the way of other customers, and started nursing her while continuing to shop.

I had her head basically in the shirts and my shirt was covering every bit of my breast as well as a bit of her face. I was the picture of 'discreet,' sans a nursing cover (which I had tried in the past and ended up flashing an entire store... I could not nurse in one without flashing, so I stopped trying to use them, as I found myself to be more discreet simply using the bottom of my shirt).

An employee walked by and smiled at me and said hello. My husband was looking through the band shirts for me while I continued to browse the clearance. A minute later, the same employee came back and informed me that I couldn't nurse in the store. I calmly explained that that wasn't true and that the law states that anywhere that I am allowed, my baby can eat.

"Well, we've already had a customer complain," she insisted. We were three customers!

"That doesn't change the law," I told her and she left to talk to her manager. Another minute or so passed and then the manager (turns out she was only an assistant manager, but she was the authority in the shop that day) came over to squat next to me on the floor.

"You can't expose yourself in public," she began and I looked down. All you could see was my baby's hair and my shirt. Not even a millimeter of breast was 'exposed.' My gaze drifted over to the pregnant teenager across the aisle, whose breasts were on full display. "Hot Topic is a private store--"

"There is no such thing," I replied, adrenaline flooding my system from the emotions burning inside me. She thought her store was above the law?

"You can't just squat down and breastfeed," she snarled. I was sitting in the exact same position I had been to reach the bottom shelf of shirts, which is only an inch or less off the floor, with some spilled over from previous searching customers. She continued berating and lecturing me every time I tried to quote the law and eventually she dropped the word 'indecent' and we degraded into a full-out argument. I was furious, embarrassed, feeling harassed and my mind went to the teen, worried that this was her first nursing in public experience and it would give her an incorrect view of her rights as a mother. The manager refused to give me her name, though I asked repeatedly.

Finally, Lilly stopped nursing and started staring at the woman yelling at me. She didn't notice and was telling me to leave, over and over. I just gave up on her and asked if I could buy my merchandise on my way out. She told me that I could and I got into line, but it wasn't over for her. She broke my last bit of control when she sneered that I was wrong and couldn't go around exposing myself in public. Previously, she had been speaking softly and insisting she wanted this to be a 'private matter.' This comment was loud enough for the people around to hear.

I turned around and yelled at her that my rights were being violated, that the law was on my side, etc. Somehow, I had managed to avoid calling her 'ignorant,' 'stupid,' and 'prudish' (words popping into my head) although my mouth was running beyond my control, I was so angry. She called mall security and told me I could no longer purchase my things and that I had to leave. I threw my clothes back at a shelf and accidentally hit her with the onesie. Oops (really--I didn't want assault charges, I just wanted out of there at that point and didn't want them to think I was trying to shoplift).

She then started saying "You need to leave, now!" over and over, while I was insisting that I was trying, but she backed me into the line of customers and rammed my stroller into a nearby customer, at which point, she seemed to notice that she was preventing me from leaving. So, she announced "Everyone move, she's leaving!"

An old woman was smirking at me and my husband told me that he was pretty certain she was the one who had made the complaint. It was bad timing, as then I turned to her and called her a fucking bitch. She stopped smirking. We left and mall security never showed up, so I bought a calendar on the way out that I'd been eying.

I went home and journaled about it on Cafemom. Information flooded in from supportive moms who were outraged and cries for a nurse-in began. An ex-manager for another Hot Topic quickly contacted the company and provided information for me (and others) to do the same. Before I knew it, the Vice President of Hot Topic, Ed Gusman, had joined Cafemom for the express purpose of trying to contact me (I was busy taking care of my baby, unaware of the storm I had set in motion with my journal).

My husband was shocked and angered by the whole thing and he contacted Mr. Gusman on my behalf. I sent Mr. Gusman an e-mail with the details of the incident and this is an excerpt (I shared the letter in its entirety in another journal post):

"I felt humiliated, angry and discriminated against. These are not feelings I ever expected to be subjected to in Hot Topic. In fact, they were very much against what I have always believed Hot Topic stands for. I am hurt and cannot believe that I was put through this, simply for trying to exercise my legal right to nourish and comfort my little girl."

I pointed out that had I been offered the changing room to nurse in, while it still would have been a violation of my rights, I would have used it without confrontation. The problem was that I was told to leave just because I was nursing. I then went to include the law for my state in my journal:

Breast-feeding in public permitted.
191.918. Notwithstanding any other provision of law to the contrary, a mother may, with as much discretion as possible, breast-feed her child in any public or private location where the mother is otherwise authorized to be.
(L. 1999 S.B. 8 & 173 § 6)

I received an e-mail reply almost immediately.

Dear [my name here],

Thank you very much for bringing this to my attention!

I am very concerned about the situation you’ve described and am investigating the matter now. 

I would very much appreciate the opportunity to learn more about your experience. 

My husband called the number Mr. Gusman attached to the message and before 24 hours had elapsed from the time of the offense, everything had been resolved. Ed asked to talk to me and apologized. Before he was removed from Cafemom for being a man, he read up on breastfeeding and was wowed by the amount of information available.

I was entirely impressed that he chose to educate himself not only on the laws, but the reasons women choose to nurse and the importance of breastfeeding. He asked me what he could do to make it up to me and I asked that sensitivity training be provided for all management of Hot Topic stores as well as education on the laws, to prevent this from happening to anyone else. He readily agreed.

He was clearly baffled that that was all I wanted and when I didn't ask for anything else, he offered to send me a gift card to purchase the items I had been forced to abandon. I let him know that while that wasn't necessary (as all I wanted was for this not to happen again), I appreciated the gesture and told him what I had been planning to purchase (he did send the gift card).

The response I received was more than I ever could have hoped for. Hot Topic's actions should be a model for any store in this situation. Not only did they avoid a scene (and becoming a hot topic they never intended!) but they left me a satisfied, returning customer. The assistant manager who treated me so poorly was subject to disciplinary action and the head manager sent me a written apology and invitation to the store (I did not go the day he asked, not wanting to be a spectacle).

I did buy the items that had been in my 'cart' -- ironically, one of the shirts was this one (which showed far more of my breasts than I did while nursing):

Unfortunately, upon my return, the employees did whisper about me and watch me like some negative celebrity, but that only happened the first time I returned. The incident was forgotten after a while and I still shop there (I don't recall if I've nursed there since the incident--I only nurse in public when my baby clearly needs to).

This incident was traumatic for me and my heart goes out to every mother person who has been refused service or kicked out of a place for nursing any reason when they were only trying to patronize the establishment. Discrimination is a cruel thing and needs to end.

From the Grammar Gurus

As both a writer and a user of the English language, grammar, spelling and word usage are important to me. It's fun to play with (when it's deliberate) and lots of humorous posters circulate online (my favorite being from The Oatmeal) that concentrate on common errors people make.

As I was correcting my own issues in my book, I thought I'd share some of the games/tricks I've learned as well as just correcting a few of the most commonly abused words and phrases in the English language. If you love your 'quirky' mistakes, feel free to ignore all that follows, which is a list of writing tips that have helped me.

courtesy stockxchng

Who/Whom

Personally, to remember whether I'm supposed to use who or whom in a sentence, I follow it with very specific pronouns: he and him. I ask myself which is the answer to the question. For instance.

"Who did the dishes?" Since he did the dishes, 'who' is proper.

"With whom am I speaking?" I am speaking with him, so whom is proper. I honestly just match up him-whom. The two ms are my mnemonic device.

When referencing the Doctor, however, it is always 'Who.'

It's/Its

Now this one is just tricky. We're taught to signify possession with an apostrophe followed by 's' with subjects. Well, this time, when it possesses something, it has no apostrophe--that is only present in the contraction it's, which is for 'it is.' Contractions always have apostrophes, which must be what screws Commander Data up. How he ever speaks Klingon is beyond me.


Effect/Affect

That special effect really had an affect on me. You affect something. Something can be an effect. Effect is the noun, affect is the verb. Simple and yet, so confusing.

Lie and Lay

"You'll lay an egg if you don't lie down." I hate this one. Not for misuse, but for trying to remember which is correct! Frankly, I stubbornly abuse them just because it doesn't sound right half the time. However, the correct usage is not that hard. You lay something down while you lie down in bed. Apparently the confusion comes because the past tense of lie is lay. Well, I like to lay down in bed, but I'm just doing it wrong. Just remember that you usually lie down to get laid and you should be fine.

Would/Could/Should/Must Have

Ah, now this is just irritating. When you say, "I would've gotten that," it comes out sounding like 'would of.' As a result, many people have taken to writing, "I would of gotten that." It's a audio trick, but it makes absolutely no sense when deconstructing the sentence. You are saying, "would have," but are using a contraction. Using 'would of' is like writing, 'Would int.' Now, this is unlikely because 'int' is not a proper word, so it's not as confusing. But I promise, 'would of' means absolutely nothing and 'would've' means that you would have done what you are talking about.

Their/They're/There

They're walking over there to get their prize. I don't know a game for this one--you really just have to slow down and think about what you're saying. 'Their' is possessive, meaning it belongs to 'them.' They're is a contraction meaning 'they are.' And 'there' is a destination. Really, it's not that hard.

Related note: Your responsibility is to know when you're misspelling something. Your is possessive--you own it. You're is a contraction meaning 'you are.'


Then/Than

If I say that I am better than you, then you can punch me. 'Then' indicates a time, while 'than' is a comparison.

A Lot

A lot is two separate words. You can allot items if you have a lot of them. Alot is an imaginary word, which is why when you write it in anything with spell check, it puts a squiggly red line under it.

Lose/Loose

You lose if your rope is too loose. You lose an item, a game or a contest. Loose is the opposite of tight. Think of it this way: When rubber is stretched out, it eventually becomes loose. So, loose is longer than lose. It follows, then, that being looser with language is for losers.


There are dozens more, of course, but these are the absolute most common. Hell, reading up for this post just depressed me over how many I didn't know (click here to feel stupid... or superior--you ass). Hopefully, this guide helped you figure out some of the more confusing word distinctions and grammar rules. If not, there are grammar lawyers everywhere happy to give you long, verbose lessons in why you're stupid. If someone who tested the second highest in Language Arts in the history of her college can still learn things and admit to it, so can you.

Are there particularly common grammar, spelling or word usage mistakes that bother you that I didn't include here? Feel free to share them and easy tricks for remembering them!

Just Call Me Mrs. Lovett

Ahh, placentophagy. Lauded as a curative to postpartum depression, a galactagogue and an immune system booster. Decried as disgusting. Claimed to be an ancient practice (it's not--despite the placenta being held in reverence, tribal peoples do not engage in this, nor is there evidence it has ever been a popular practice) and Chinese medicine (who also use tiger claws and animal testicles). However, just because something is new, that does not make it bad. Kombucha, despite claims of being ancient, is only around 60 years old or so and it definitely does help cleanse the system and kills my headaches.

I thought about this before I gave birth and based on the science that does back placentophagy, I decided that raw was the most likely method to get the most benefits. Now, not able to eat raw meat, I planned to chop it up into tiny pill-sized pieces and freeze it to preserve and swallow whole, bit by bit.

This plan was thwarted when my husband, trying to forget about the organ we'd brought home with us from the birth center, tossed it straight into the freezer. Okay, I figured I'd just plant it at some point. Then I was given an amazing offer--students would encapsulate my placenta for free as well as create a tincture and an umbilical keepsake. Alas, not enough students would sign up for the class and this would not come to fruition. My placenta remained in the freezer, mostly forgotten.

Today, I was reminded when a friend posted about her own upcoming encapsulation and asked about tinctures. So, since I'll try just about anything once, I decided I'd cook mine up and get it out of the freezer. I figured if I was going to do it, I'd do it all the way and decided to make a steak.

First, I thawed my placenta.

The colored stains on the table were courtesy of my kids--they were painting earlier

 

This was really gross.

Then I cut off the umbilical cord and membranes. This was both fascinating and disgusting. The membrane was slippery and I ended up covered in blood. My aspiring midwife, Lilly (5) decided that she no longer wants to be a doctor or a midwife. Her sister, on the other hand, now wants to. She enjoyed watching me pulling the membranes off and held open the bag I threw them away in.

You can see the three blood vessels. This went back in the freezer after being washed.

It bled when I cut it

And washed the meat...

Then I seasoned it and pan fried it like a good steak:

Reminds me of a giant chicken heart--all that black is the blood

And I tried it. It was chewy. The taste was... well, I described it as chicken. If chickens sacrificed humans and drank our blood. I could definitely taste that it was human. Maybe that was psychological, or maybe it was just that this is a blood transporting organ and the flavor just wasn't going to go away. The outer part was pretty yummy and I could tell that had this not been organ meat, it would have been delicious. But it was very obviously organ meat. It had the taste of chicken heart, liver, marrow... that sort of thing.

So, because I'm twisted and don't like to be wasteful, I decided that I would try to eat it in a disguised fashion and planned to make meat pies. I had never done so before (nor had I even ever mashed potatoes by myself!), but I set out to do it all from scratch. First, I had to chop up the 'steak.'

It was this dark crimson unlike anything I'd seen before--this picture doesn't do it justice and it was warm through

Then I got recipes for crust and meat pies and went to work. We had two leftover potatoes from chicken teriyaki the other night, so I made mashed potatoes out of them. I had so much crust I decided to make two empanadas rather than one pie (so my husband could have a safe, chicken pie, lol). I put in a ton of cheese, potatoes (which came out delicious!), onions and meat. I threw out the center where the cord had been attached. I tossed out everything that wouldn't fit and I cooked them up.

The pie was amazing... until I got to the meat. It was even worse like this. I picked all the pieces out and threw them out. I couldn't force myself to eat any more. It was just flat out awful. I can't force myself to try any more methods. Maybe I wouldn't be able to taste it in a smoothie, but I don't want to ruin a whole smoothie if I can.

Definitely go with encapsulation if you can. I could not justify $200 (even in installments, as I was paying off the midwife and doula), did not have postpartum depression, have plentiful milk, etc. I feel no ill effects from eating it--quite the contrary. I actually do feel better than before I ate it (except for the gross aftertaste). We'll see if my perpetual crankiness of late is cured by this ;)

Now, if only I had a nice Chianti...

Meme Time: Skyrim

Recycling Wipes Boxes

Those of us who use disposable wipes know how nice those wipes boxes can be. I usually pick the ones with the cutest designed on them. But when they're done and we are either done with wipes or we end up collecting extras, what to do with the box?


So, my baby is obsessed with pulling wipes out of the wipes box. Anyone who's had an open kleenex box around or a wipes box might know this frustration. My preschooler loved doing it when she was younger, too. But we don't want to lose the wipes/kleenex that we bought to clean with.

One answer to this is to buy a box of kleenex for baby to have themselves and write it off as done. But some of those kleenex might get eaten in the process. While many people wouldn't think much of this, the dioxin used to bleach the kleenex really isn't safe to consume. And it looks funny when it comes out as poop, lol.

A better option is to use something safe and reusable inside the kleenex box or Huggies wipes container (don't use Pampers, the hard edges can chafe baby's hands... I know they hurt mine!). Playsilks are an option, of course. You could also cut up old, stained clothing into squares/strips and put them inside to be pulled out. Different materials can have the added benefit of exploring different textures through play. Stained onesies, t-shirts, pantyhose... the options are wide! Remember not to use materials with choking hazards like buttons, sequins or beads (which will just get ripped off as they're pulled out).

The first option is, of course, to use it for cloth wipes if you use them!

I also use wipes boxes for art supplies. They are great for holding crayons in a place that is easy for toddlers and preschoolers to access. In addition, you can use them to store small toys such as legos or blocks, doll clothes, hot wheels, marbles, puzzle pieces when their boxes become wrecked, thomas trains, etc. They can also be used to store play dough that has lost its container, preventing play dough rocks. 


You can use them in the bathroom for holding makeup, hair ties and bows, or pretend makeup for your child. They can be used for holding collectable cards, photos or other loose papers. In the bedroom they can hold socks, pantyhose or anything else you can imagine for them. In the living room, they can be used to organize remotes or if you have an old game system like an N64, Sega or SNES, you can use them to hold games.

The uses are multiple, so they don't have to be thrown out after you've outgrown them!


originally published on cafemom, edited/updates for this post

Chocolate Coconut Chocolate Chip Cookies

Or CCC Cookies! Yes, it's that time again--time for a recipe!

Yeah, I'm kind of sloppy when I drop the cookie dough

Recipe Yield: 2 dozen (or 16 sloppy, big ones)

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup (two sticks) butter, softened*
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1/4 cup light brown sugar 
• 1 egg
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon imitation** coconut extract
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup cocoa powder
• 3/8 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup shredded, unsweetened coconut
• 1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
• 1/2 cup coconut M&Ms (optional)

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
2. In large bowl, cream butter and sugars together. Mix in egg, coconut extract and vanilla until light and fluffy. 
3. Combine the flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt. Stir into the butter mixture until well blended. 
4. Mix in the chocolate chips, shredded coconut and M&Ms. 
5. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets (I prefer to use parchment paper--I stopped burning cookies when I started using it).
6. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes in the preheated oven, or just until set. Cool slightly on the cookie sheets before transferring to wire racks to cool completely. 
7. Enjoy!
   
   
   * For dairy free, substitute margarine for butter and use dairy-free chocolate chips **Unlike imitation vanilla, imitation coconut tastes great. I don't know if there's a non-imitation version, either.
   

First Time Moms and the Hospital Birth

Disclaimer: This post obviously addresses mothers with average, uncomplicated pregnancies who do not desire a medicalized birth.

Okay, so in our society, whenever a woman hears the word "birth," the first thing that comes to mind is usually the hospital (and often, a dramatic scene from a television or movie). Even women who've decided they don't want pain meds for their birth for whatever reason, still automatically think of going to an OB/GYN and birthing in the hospital. Women who've thought of homebirth are often confronted by worried partners who have been similarly conditioned to think of birth as a medical event and convinced to go the hospital route, even though they know it's not the best option for them.

courtesy of stockxchng

When I was a First Time Mom (hereafter referred to as FTM), I thought I needed an OB and that homebirths were illegal in my state. At the time, it was close to true in that the restrictions on homebirth were so great that outside of an unassisted birth, it was nearly impossible (or felt that way) to have one. The first big mistake I made was finding an OB. Admittedly, I did it because I was having fertility issues and I didn't know a midwife could be an option, but it was still a mistake that would ultimately ruin my birth experience (and yes, that matters--a healthy baby is not, despite the propaganda to the contrary, the only thing that matters: an unhealthy mother is not good for the baby).

So I went to the OB. I was then emotionally tortured for the next several months. I would go to the appointment confident and strong and leave hurt and beaten down a little more each time. I tried to leave that practice twice and was thwarted the first time by an insurance snafu with the horrible office personnel of the local midwife practice and the OB I would use with my second birth. The second time, the midwife I was trying to switch to ended up dumping me at 38 weeks, which led to the destruction of my confidence.

My 'natural' birth was destroyed by interventions (the first and most important being the moment I got out of my bath and left for the hospital). While I never had a need for nor received an epidural, the 'intervention domino' still happened. I ended up with a most likely unnecessary cesarean, despite being an informed, educated (in pregnancy and birth at least) and supported (even had a doula) woman.

Many of us think that giving birth in the hospital as a FTM will give us the confidence to have an out of hospital birth the next time. What a lie! The hospital has no interest (nor is it in their interest to) in supporting a woman's confidence in her birth. If they don't 'rescue' us from this or that, why would we go back? We would realize that we don't need them (oh, the horror!) and have beautiful births in birth centers or at home. So they need to create drama, even if that's simply making mom fight against every single thing she doesn't want done to her or her baby.*

Now, this is where my story gets a little different from most: my husband realized what happened with the hospital birth and that the cesarean was not a rescue, but a threat to his wife and child. So he did not feel confident that the hospital was a 'safer' choice anymore. He had always supported my choice in birth, wherever, but admitted to feeling safer in the hospital... until it happened. Unfortunately the intervention domino is actually designed to lure partners in: the partner is in a helpless position. His/her wife/partner has all these problems that 'need' interventions and the hospital 'rescued' her from 'what could have gone wrong.'

Many parents (both!) do not recognize that most of the problems were iatrogenic (meaning that they were caused by the doctor/hospital) and would not have happened at home or in a birth center with a midwife who truly supports natural birth. Even I still wonder (will always wonder) how my birth would have gone had I stayed home. Of course, then I wouldn't have the experience I have: a cesarean following a (mostly) natural labor, a medicated VBAC and a totally natural birth center birth (that was almost unassisted). I now am confident that my long labors were caused by the interventions (especially the worthless cervical checks) considering how fast my most recent birth went.

For this reason, I caution FTMs from making the same mistakes I have made (and others tried to caution me, but of course, I didn't listen, as I don't expect the people I caution to--though I still always try, in the hope that I can perhaps help even one mom get the confidence she's looking for to have the birth she truly wants) and encourage others to examine their previous births (it's so hard to admit that you may have been lied to by professionals you trusted and, indeed, your entire society/culture) that were not as desired and pinpoint what could have been done differently.

Don't just assume you have no options, especially if a doctor (or nurse) told you that. Most doctors don't want you to have options or truly don't believe you do (*otherwise, why would they be doctors if they didn't believe in what they do?). Ask questions. Read. Become educated. Don't be another statistic.

If you truly feel that you need to give birth out of home for that 'confidence,' then look for a birth center option. Preferably detached from any hospital. If there are none in your area, look up your local laws and find out how you can support the addition of birth centers. Don't be afraid to travel a little! And if you absolutely must give birth in a hospital, do it with a midwife who clearly supports real natural birth (and not the kind who seems like they'd have rather have been an OB). CPMs are the best middle ground midwives--they have more training and access than a DEM, but aren't as medical minded as a CNM.

I hope this post can help moms who are looking for encouragement or confirmation for their feelings on out of hospital births and just needed that last little vote of confidence. Peaceful birthing thoughts to all mamas out there. May you have the birth that you desire.

courtesy of stockxchng

Infant Feeding Hierarchy and Terminology

This post was originally published Feb 16 2010 on cafemom. I'm posting here and now because I'm sorry that I haven't posted this month and it's my apology. Having a newborn and two older kiddos is time-consuming!

As I write this, I realize this is a touchy subject for some. First off, understand that this has nothing to do with the choice you made or had made for you (I have formula feeding friends and no problem with that) nor you as a person; this is only about the substances involved. If you are here to start a debate, please stop reading now.

Fist, we've all heard "Breast is best." That's a universally accepted truth, right? No. Too many people misunderstood that message to think that breast milk must therefore somehow be something more than the norm, so the message has been changed to, "Breastfeeding is the standard."(1) However, even using the original message, we can come to the same conclusion--that cow or soy based infant formula is an inferior feeding method. The formula companies acknowledge this freely (usually when defending themselves in court) despite their advertising. 

So here's we're going to explore the "Breast is Best" language. Best, as we know, in the "good" hierarchy, is the top. It is better than better, which is better than good. Well, infant feeding has a hierarchy as well. (2) It is listed as:

1. Milk at the Mother's Breast2. Mother's Pumped Milk in a Bottle3. Donated Milk from Another Mother
4. Infant Formulas

So, using this, we can apply it to the language hierarchy in which the word "Best" appears. This would mean, mimicking the list above:

Best: Milk at the Mother's Breast
Better: Mother's Pumped Milk in a Bottle
Good: Donated Milk from Another Mother
... : Infant Formulas

Well, what comes below good? Well, automatically, we would say that going down the same catalog, what would come next is either "worse" or "bad" (considering that bad takes the place of good in its pyramid, then is followed by worse and worst). However, I think we can skip the first, but to avoid applying "worst" to the next in the list, let's expand it.

Best: Milk at the Mother's Breast
Better: Mother's Pumped Milk in a Bottle
Good: Donated Milk from Another Mother
Worse: Infant Formulas
Worst: Cow's milk

So, the same conclusions are drawn from either terminology. Even if Breast is Best, that does not make formula "good" or even the next alternative. Although this is the not the first journal to create this hierarchy, another (3) is in reference to preterm infants, which actually lists formula as worst:


Breast is Best, breast is standard. Formula was designed as a medical option for infants who could not breastfeed either due to one of three extremely rare conditions or for the less than 2% of mothers who physically cannot produce enough milk or the less than 5% who, for other medical reasons, cannot breastfeed. Regardless of personal psychological response, the next best option for ALL babies, is the milk from another human mother. After all, why would we equate feeding our child milk produced from this:








As superior or even equal to the milk specifically created for this?:

Photo by of Blessed Life Photography

 Doesn't any healthy mother want the best for their child? So why don't we advocate more strongly to provide alternatives to the "fourth best" AKA worse, option to breastfeeding for mothers who either can't or don't want to nurse their babies? Why do we spend more time trying not to offend their choice to use the only option they believe is viable or obtainable instead of working to give them MORE options? Better options?

If you are interested in being a part of that option, click here to find out if donation is an option for you.



(1) Watch Your Language by Dianne Weissinger
(2) UNICEF, WHO, UNESCO: Facts for Life: A Communication Challenge. New York: UNICEF 1989; p. 20.
(3) Global Health Policies that Support the Use of Banked Donor Human Milk: A Human Rights Issue.
Further reading:
4. Enterobacter Sakazaki and other microorganisms in powdered infant formula
5. What Every Parent Should Know About Infant Formula
6. The Deadly Influence of Formula
7. Human Milk Banking
8. Nutrient By Nutrient Why Breast Is Best
9. Nutritional Information for Human Milk

Katarina's Newborn Pictures

Katarina's Birth Story

"Every pregnancy is different." We remind each other of this fact often, but despite that, still look for patterns in our own to make them more predictable. It's hard waiting and not knowing. This pregnancy reminded me of that very strongly. My body followed its pattern of earlier symphysis pubis dysfunction and earlier prodromal labor--but not earlier labor itself. The baby inside me settled differently, responded to stimuli differently and, in general, was as unpredictable as could be.

I assumed on the 'safe' side, that I would have a day-long labor as I've had in the past. Well, right from the start, my actual labor started differently--it started at night. Around 9:20 pm or so. I just figured it was more false labor, but the contractions were intense enough that after a few hours of it, I texted Tara, my doula and turned on my contraction timer and recorded that they were averaging approximately a minute every 3 minutes.



I danced around to music and sang a little bit. My contractions were only really bearable when I was standing or dancing, so it seemed like the best thing to do. I couldn't get baby to drop and my labor pains moved around into my back a bit and down my legs--things I'd heard about, but never experienced myself before. I figured the dancing was still helpful anyway.

I posted on Facebook a few times, to keep everyone in the loop as promised, then decided I had to have a shower around midnight. I got into the shower and sat down, letting the water fill the tub and rain down warm on me. The contractions broke a little, but did not become less intense. I still felt better for having it. I put on a Poise panty just in case, so I could just go to bed and not worry about making a mess with my water.

I tried to get some sleep, as I'd advised Tara. I had a strong feeling that I was definitely in labor. I'd been tricked once before, so I still questioned it repeatedly, but I wanted to be rested as much as possible regardless. I was very glad I'd made the kids let me take a nap earlier. Off and on, I used the hypnobirthing/hypnobabies wrist drop while breathing through contractions and while I wasn't able to do anything involving the 'hypno' part, it still helped, surprisingly.

I woke up to contractions off and on and started chanting positive messages: "I'm fine." "It's the baby; I'm going to have a baby." "I can do this." "I've done this before." At first, they were just in my head, but I started having to breathe them out as it got harder to tolerate them while being so tired. Eventually, they became verbal and I decided I was too loud and gave up on sleeping, trying to let my family get as much as they could.

Every time I went to the bathroom, it was terribly painful from the pressure of the baby and I finally couldn't take doing it all on my own anymore, so a little after 6am, I called Tara and told her that I needed her. I had tried to make it at least until 7, but I wanted her there as soon as possible and I knew she would take about an hour to get everything ready to go. My bloody show was becoming more and more red and it seemed a good sign that things were progressing.

I called and left a message at the birth center that we were having a baby today, but didn't want to call and wake up Rachel herself when I was so sure I still had half a day left or so.

Tara came and we talked for a little bit, then I dozed on the couch off and on between contractions while she stayed next to me, dozing on the labor ball that I just could not stand to use more than to squish baby down a bit. She helped me get through more intense contractions and I returned to chanting my positive messages when I wanted to scream.

A few times, I did howl and yell, but I tried to turn it into singing, goofy sounds or more positive words when I could. My family woke up and Brandon made the kids breakfast. I was torn between starving and so nauseated I didn't want to eat. Tara had retrieved a bucket, just in case, but thankfully, I never used it. The birth center returned my call to see what was going on, but I wasn't able to talk, so I gave the phone to Tara.

Transition hit hard and fast around 10:45 or so. The birth center called back again and talked to Tara to assess where I was in labor. Tara confirmed that I was definitely in labor and that things were going quickly. Neither of us had really recognized transition yet, but my contractions had doubled and I wasn't tolerating them much anymore. I kept trying to chant my positive phrases, but I was shouting them and crying.

I was afraid of how intense it was getting, flashing back to Naomi's labor. Nausea had taken any desire to eat away and I wanted the birth pool, which I cried into Tara's shoulder as I held onto her and we swayed through a contraction. She called and told Rachel to fill it, who said she wanted to wait and check me first (which I figured, since I'd always had slower labors).

I lost all my positive and started crying that I couldn't do it, things were too hard, it was killing me, etc. and Tara just stayed positive, just as I'd asked and told me I was just in transition and it was almost over. She and Brandon got the girls ready and all the stuff out to the van while she continued to support me every couple minutes in between. Everything seemed to be flying, suddenly.

Then as we were walking me out, I grabbed Tara, falling into a contraction (to which, I had begun pleading and occasionally screaming in shock) and told her I was feeling pushy. It was a strange, half-feeling, but I knew it very well and instead of the joy with which I announced it with Naomi, it was a half-panic. She asked if she should call Rachel to come and do it here, but I was determined to get to the big, blue pool and was sure I could make it the barely 10 minute drive.

Before I could put on my seatbelt, another contraction left me screaming and arching and my water broke. I yelled at Brandon to buckle me in and hurry and that my water had broken. I started apologizing before contractions, because I knew I couldn't not scream through them. But more, 3 minutes into the drive, I was pushing and couldn't stop.

Brandon sped, worrying about being pulled over, but worrying more about not making it to the Birth Center. He kept telling me that he didn't know why I was apologizing, that I was okay. I just kept doing it--it had become a mantra. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I was writhing in the seat, trying to get away from the intense pressure on my perineum. I knew it was the baby's head and I didn't want to sit on her.

We pulled up to the ramp and Brandon ran out and banged on the door to get the midwife while I unlocked the doors as Tara ran up and unbuckled. I arched away from the seat, screaming that I was crowning, the baby was here, I was going to sit on her! When Rachel opened the door (Tara meant to call her to let her know we were on the way, but things had just moved so fast right before we left, we forgot plenty in the whirlwind), she heard and saw me and ran out, Sheena following behind.

Then she told me what I knew and didn't want to hear--I needed to get out of the van and into the Birth Center. I howled that I couldn't and she argued with me. The second there was a lull, I was being pulled out of the van and supported to the ramp. Due to my weight, I'm always nervous about people supporting me, so I was terrified that I couldn't do it. I made it almost up the ramp and then collapsed onto my hands and knees as another contraction caused my body to push and push hard!

I continued to argue with them that I couldn't get to the door as I tried to do what I knew had to be done. Just a few more feet, but my contrary birthing brain kept arguing grumpily at them (which was how I was able to keep going--that fighting urge).

"It's too cold to have the baby out here!" I heard Rachel say and I forced my hands and legs to crawl me in the door. I chewed Rachel out for not filling the pool for me and yelled that I wanted it. They started filling it while Rachel apologized, pointing out that none of us expected me to be going so fast! Later, when I had access to logic again, I'd know that there was no chance I would ever have got in the water anyway--I couldn't stand up to get in! I could barely move my legs and my uterus had a mind of its own.

I was pestered toward the bed, but I finally called it and just worried about crawling out of my pants and Poise panty (which had contained my entire water mess, hooray!), then lifted up one leg and reached down as I screamed while my body pushed again and I felt something soft and strange, but hard at the same time, coming out of my body.



I wondered if I was feeling buttocks instead of a head and asked what was coming out of me. There was a questioning, "Maybe your bag of waters?" as people shuffled to see, but I just kept wanting to know what I was feeling. Then the rest came out and I realized it was my baby's head just as someone told me that was what it was!

I couldn't see Brandon and I yelled for him and a camera. I had kept meaning to ask for pictures during labor, but it wasn't to be, things just went far faster than I expected. Instead, it was going the way we had hoped (only a little faster at the end than I meant!). Brandon appeared and pictures were taken, though it was Tara taking them.



Graphic pics:
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x110/Xakana/Katarina%20Birth/014.jpg
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x110/Xakana/Katarina%20Birth/017.jpg
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x110/Xakana/Katarina%20Birth/018.jpg


The kids were playing in the lobby/living area of the Birth Center and totally missed the actual birth because I screamed one more time and my baby girl flew out of me. I looked down in shock and couldn't actually comprehend that I was looking at my baby. I was very confused. A closed-eyed baby was in my hand, very still. Someone mentioned that the cord needed to be moved off her neck and it was. I heard someone say it was 11:42 when Rachel asked for the time.

After a moment, I realized that she wasn't moving as they rubbed at her and brought over the oxygen. I rubbed with them and started down, still in shock, responding mechanically. I said, "I had a baby!" in surprise as I finally absorbed that it was my baby in my hand, not breathing. Then she gave some coughs and started writhing as I yanked off my shirt and pulled her to my body, still attached to me. I looked at her ginger hair and grey eyes and noted what a round little chubber she was.



My body contracted again and I felt something coming out. I reached down and birthed my placenta, setting it on the floor. It was still partly inside, so Rachel was looking at it and waiting for it to finish. She said to give a little cough and it would finish coming, but I told her I couldn't do anything right at that moment. My body was tired and barely listening to me, though that was too much to convey.

I felt okay after a moment and gave a little push and the rest came out. I realized I'd had a lotus birth in the back of my mind, but now I was too interested in the baby I was holding. I also noted that my placenta looked to be much smaller than Naomi's.



I mentioned that Lilly should be called in to cut the cord and the girls were brought into the room to see their new sister. Lilly asked a ton of questions as Sheena opened the clamps and scissors kit and we answered her. Lilly cut the cord, though it took her a few tries to get all the way through. I examined it in fascination both before and during the whole process.




The baby had covered one of the towels in meconium shortly after being born but was mostly clean all over from all the rubbing to get her breathing. I was helped to get into the bed and snuggle with my naked baby. She and I just stared at each other for a while. I was super weak from the intensity of everything that had just happened and she was so chill that I didn't offer to nurse her. We just looked at each other, both of us surprised. She was so quiet and calm and we realized her purple complexion on one side was due to a bruise when looking for birth marks (she had none).



Her head was perfectly round, which made sense since she went from feeling high in my belly to shooting through my pelvis in only 11 minutes. Only four minutes passed from us arriving to her coming into the world outside of me. It was an hour before the shock wore off and she and I tried to nurse. I finally got her latched on (her rooting instinct hadn't kicked in) and her eyes went wide and she drank enthusiastically, looking more surprised every time she sucked and got milk.



Time flew by after that and I was only half-aware of what was going on. When Tara was ready to leave, I asked that she stay and Brandon go to Subway to get me my celebratory turkey sandwich that I had so been looking forward to. So she did and took pictures during the newborn exam. Naomi got to trim the cord down and I finally got to find out how much the baby weighed--8lbs, 13 oz and she was 20" long.








I fuzzily did the math at just under 14 1/2 hours from beginning to end.




Brandon and I talked about names (he still had my list on his phone and when he brought up one of my favorites from the old list and paired it with my favorite from my new list as a middle name, I liked the combination) and texted Tara as soon as we'd decided, then I called my mom while Brandon posted on Facebook that we had chosen--without revealing the name.

He told his sisters, parents and one friend who texted with a good story as to why she deserved to know (and hadn't been a pest about it, so he was happy to tell her anyway). He had been pestered severely by coworkers for weeks for a name (that he wouldn't have told them had we known) so he took delight in keeping it to ourselves for most of the day.

I ended up with two stitches, before which, I got up to pee and Katarina Xylia cried for the very first time as she woke up without me. Immediately, Mommy instinct hit and I called out for someone to pick up the baby, but she wasn't totally content until she was given to her daddy (since I couldn't hold her right then). She knew him right away and settled back down.

I ate and was encouraged to nap some more after a failed attempt to go shower. I didn't make it to the shower (nearly fainted) and instead, the pool was filled back up for me to take a bath. It was heaven and I brought Katarina in and we bathed together. The moment she hit the water, she relaxed and slept against me, so content. It felt so wonderful.



I was encouraged to stay a bit longer and nap some more since I was barely able to walk. It took me longer than average to recover, since things had gone so fast after so little sleep and I wasn't feeling my body's cues, so I didn't know when I was hungry and thirsty. Once I was hydrated, fed again (pizza) and napped, I was able to get dressed and walk out, feeling much better. We went home around 7pm and my sister met us at home to make sure that there were two adults to help me into the house in case I nearly fainted again, but I did fine.

My fastest labor, my heaviest baby who was the calmest, most alert newborn baby I've ever seen. My first totally natural birth--it was intense, but amazing and everything went the way I'd wanted (except for the land birth, but that's what I get for hoping for a fast birth!). I'm feeling good and I have a little baby who likes to talk already (and two proud big sisters and a sleepy, proud Daddy holding Katarina as I typed this out).