What Do You Think?

Being a really great mom is one of my biggest desires. While the description of  a "really great mom" may vary from person to person, I think I'm probably not alone in this. I'm sure I'm also not alone in having a few faults to overcome.  The other night I realized something - one of my biggest hurdles is worrying about what other people think of me. I am at heart a people pleaser. I like to make other people happy. I can't stand it when someone is even a little bit upset with me. So when it comes to parenting my Bug it's not unusual for me to be at conflict with myself.
While I believe that children need boundaries, I also believe that kids should be allowed to be kids. They shouldn't be expected to sit still and be quiet all the time, but it should be expected that they will run, jump, yell, laugh, climb, explore, poke, and test. I think that they should be given the freedom to do these things as long as it won't endanger them, or anyone else, or pass the line of respect and love for others. But all to often, I find myself worried about what others are thinking of me and my parenting skills. Are they thinking that I let him run wild? Wondering why I don't control him? Frustrated that I'm not stepping in to tone him down? Is he bothering anybody in any way? (it is obviously my responsibility to make sure he never bothers anyone...) And then I fall into that trap, that somehow children are lesser people than adults. I start to control this "extension of me," forgetting that he is his own person, equally entitled to express his desires and do the things he likes to do, as any one else is.  He needs me to let him be who he is, to not hinder his spirit or personality. That doesn't mean that I allow him to run crazy, but to accept that he's two, and exploring and learning and being.

Exploring a random church kitchen

Bug is two and a half years old now and still nursing a few times a day, several times a night, and co-sleeping -  starting in his sidecar-ed crib and later with his mama. He's never been what would normally be labeled as a "good sleeper."  Even now his average sleep is about 2.5 hours before he wakes to nurse and then resettles to  sleep. Even though I'm choosy about who I share this information with, I still face the occasional comment about how maybe I should wean him (or night wean him),  that he's old enough to sleep in his own bed, or that CIO won't hurt him, etc. Especially with how far he seems to be from "sleeping through the night" (in quotes because everyone has their own definition as to what this means),  it's not hard for me to feel as though I've somehow failed in this aspect of parenting. Perhaps I should try one of these suggestions from parents who get a full nights sleep.
Oh, wait! Did I totally skip over the part where I'm nursing a toddler! at times in public! Yeah, I'm not really sure of what people think of that either. So far, I've not had to deal with any negativity, but I'm always wondering, "What are they thinking? Do they think I'm strange? That we're a bit of a freak show?" So, I keep questioning if I'm making the right decisions or freaking people out, if they think I'm coddling my little one, giving in to his demands, or even harming his development. Sometimes I push off giving him "sidey" (nursing) if I'm afraid it will weird someone out, or I start thinking about night weaning, wondering if we'd all get more sleep. He needs me to remember that for now, for him, most of these things are needs, and he relies on me to fill his needs, not neglect them.

Nursing Bug with a lap full - one baby, two bunnies, and two kitties, one stuffed, one real.

I hate conflict. Hate, hate, hate it. Which is why this last thing is always the hardest for me. Every now and then another adult will feel the need to step in with my child and bring whatever version of discipline they think is right. Sometimes, not a big deal. Sometimes he's needed someone to set a boundary. Sometimes they employ measures that are not used or acceptable to our family. I've had one mom put Bug on a time out. I watched and boiled (our little used version of the time out is a "break" sitting with Mama until spirits can calm), but Bug was unfazed by it - sat on the step for a minute and than got up and wandered off, so I didn't worry too much about speaking up. But there was another time, when Bug had a toy he'd been playing with for a while, and one of his friends kept trying to take it from him, leading to fighting. The other mom stepped in and removed the toy, stating that if they couldn't share nicely, it was time for it go away for a little while. I've used this tactic before, but in this situation Bug was in the right to be granted some peace to play with the toy, not have it taken from him simply because he was trying to defend himself. Poor Bug looked so confused and hurt, and I didn't say anything. I felt so ashamed of myself, but I just couldn't get up the guts to confront her. It didn't help that she was someone close to me, and whom I tend to offend easily. I didn't want to deal with the fallout, and so I let my son down. He needs me to be his defender, his safe spot, the one he looks to to protect him when he can't protect himself,  the one who helps him see that just because they are adults doesn't mean they are always right. He needs to know that his Mama is always on his side.

Hahaha. Even as I write this, I keep thinking, "What will readers think? Will they think I'm too soft on him? That I don't ever discipline him? That I think my son is always right and nobody should tell him what to do? Maybe I should clarify more. Explain one more thing." Ahhh! See, it's a problem.

New Year Blues

Anyone else not totally thrilled with a new year? As calendars turned over, I saw comment after comment excited about the new year. "Yay! A new year," "I love the new year, a fresh start," "Looking forward to a new year," etc. But for me I found that it only brought this vague feeling of dread.
The past year was a bad one for me and mine. We lost three babies, an uncle, and Boy's employment. I was looking forward to it being over, to having a chance for things to turn around. I just wanted to put that year and all it's bleakness behind me. But as the new year started, I realized that I didn't feel different. I didn't have a greater feeling of hope or a sense of a clean slate. Instead, I felt a subtle current of fear. What if this year isn't any different? What if we can't figure out why I've had four miscarriages so far? What if I have more? What if Boy isn't able to find a job? What if he finds one and it turns out to be bad? What if this year holds some other unexpected tragedy? This time last year, I had no idea what the months would hold for me. I certainly wasn't expecting all the heartache that would come. I want that clean slate, fresh start, but I realize that just because I pulled out a new calendar doesn't mean I've pulled out a new life. So I feel somewhat scared about what might happen this year.
I want to be someone who counts their blessings instead of focusing on the dark spots, so I talked to Boy today and asked him, "What were some of the good things of this past year?" We could think of a few - certainly watching Bug grow and develop, starting to speak in sentences, learning how to pedal his trike, gaining comfort and confidence in group settings; also a new nephew, enjoying times at the in-laws cottage,

Bug at the cottage

and starting a games night with some friends - but, those things feel overshadowed, creating a dark year for us.
I greatly hope that this year will be one of joy and celebration for us - a great job, a new baby, continued time to connect with family and friends. God willing, there is a change just over the horizon for us, something to give us hope and that fresh start. Heck, even writing all this down has given me a slightly brighter outlook.

I've never been one for New Year's resolutions, but in the spirit of fresh starts and new focus there is one thing that I want to do - sit down with Boy and detail a family vision. It's something that's been on my mind for a while now. Thanks to blogs like Passionate Homemaking and The Mommypotamus the idea of a family vision has been growing on me, and I can see the potential benefits it would have. It doesn't have to be anything huge or complicated, simply a list of what our priorities are and simple things that will help our lives to reflect them. For example, for us family is very important, not just our little family, but extended as well. One thing that I want to start doing to strengthen those bonds, is set up regular Skype dates with grandparents and other family we live far from. I think having a family vision written down will give us more focus and something to fall back to when making decisions, "Does it fit with our family vision?"  That's my new start for our new year, something fresh and hopeful to focus on.

May your new year be full of joy and wonderfulness. May sorrow be a stranger.

You Miscarried? (Crap, What Do I Say?) - Consolation in the Face of Uncommon Grief

Nobody is an expert at grief. We always feel bad when we don't know what to say or do in the face of someone else's loss, but it's normal to feel awkward and hesitant. Nothing can fix the situation, and some things can make it worse. We don't want to hurt the already hurting person. This all becomes compounded when dealing with a miscarriage. There is an extra level of mystery and confusion surrounding miscarriages, and for many, it's just more foreign. Almost everyone has experienced the death of someone they know and love, but fewer have personal experience with the death of someone who wasn't even born yet. People often feel even more clueless as to how to support and comfort in the face of this unfamiliar tragedy.
Having recently been through this for the fourth time (awesome), I'm beginning to get a better and better idea of what I want and don't want from other people, of what is helpful and what is not. I know that this list wouldn't be the same for everyone, but hopefully it will give some guidance to someone who is stumbling through this unknown. So, a few of my do's and don't's for dealing with someone who has had a miscarriage:

1. Do send a card, flowers, or food as you feel led. This shows that you acknowledge it as a real loss, not just an unfortunate incident.
2. Do say, "I'm sorry you lost your baby. Is there anything I can do?" There generally isn't, but is shows you care and want to be supportive.
3. Don't say it if you don't mean it. Can I really call you to help clean my house because I don't have the energy?
4. Do feel free to show interest, but don't pry. If I want to share details with you, I will.
5. Do remember that the pain doesn't stop after the first day. Grief is a long process. I'm not going to be over this tomorrow, or a week from now. One of the most helpful things for me has been my sister who, for the first little while, calls me everyday just to say, "How are you?" It shows me that she cares, she's thinking of me, and she wants to help. It gives me an opportunity to talk if I want to, but the freedom to move on to other subjects if I want that.
6. Unless you are close to me, please don't ask me how I'm feeling. First of all, I don't know if you are asking about me physically or emotionally. Don't make me guess. Secondly - if it's how I'm feeling physically, your question makes it seem like I was simply ill or have a physical problem, not that I'm grieving my baby's death. If there are physical symptoms I'm going through, I'm not likely to share that intimate information with you if we are not close. If your question is how I'm feeling emotionally, would you actually ask that of anyone else going through grief? They are likely to shoot you an, "Are you stupid?" look.  Pick a grief emotion and I've felt it - sad, angry, bitter, numb, betrayed, overwhelmed, guilty, alone, etc. Again, unless we are "share all our secrets" kind of close, I'm not likely going to want to share the intimate details of these emotions with you either.
7. Don't tell me about Susie, or Jane, or your three cousins, or whoever it is that you know that also had a miscarriage, or six, or trouble getting pregnant, or whatever their story is. It's so not helpful on so many levels. 
8. Do tell me your story, if you've been there. It is helpful to simply hear, "I had a miscarriage (or six). I've been where you are." It feels a just a little bit less lonely, and a little bit more understood. Also, a simple statement like that leaves the door open for me to ask about your story, without having it forced on me if I'm not ready.
9. Don't hint at understanding. "I know that it's hard." Do you mean you know loss is hard, or that you know personally that miscarriage is hard? Please just say it straight out. If you are trying to share, but I'm not sure, you haven't really shared anything. 
10.  During my miscarriages, the only people who know are generally family. Afterwards, I don't care anymore who knows. It's my grief and it just might be public. For some people, the whole situation is a very private thing. Unless you are very sure that it's ok, don't share your friend's story with anyone else.
11. Don't ask questions about what I did or didn't do before or during pregnancy. You may simply be trying to help find an explanation and hope for next time, but I'm already wondering if there was something I could have done to change the outcome. Even without a specific reason, a mother is likely to be feeling that she somehow failed her child. I always feel like I've let them, and my husband, down by not being able to hold on to them and support their life.
12. Don't make comments such as, "At least... you have your son... you can try again... it was early..." Those things may be true, and yes, my son is a comfort to me, but these statements just belittle the loss. This was a baby, they were my baby, and I want them.
13. Don't tell me that God had a reason for having this happen. I believe in God. I believe that no life begins or ends without his knowledge. I don't believe that God purposely ends my babies' lives. There is no reason good enough to justify the death of my children. Crap happens because we live in a crap world. I do believe that God can and does take that crap and bring something good out of it - nothing good enough to balance out the loss, but some small redemptive measure. Like, maybe after this, my fourth miscarriage, as I'm able to be more aware of what is helpful and what is not, and I'm prompted to write this post, someone will read this and be better able to support and bring a tiny measure of comfort to a friend going through their own miscarriage. Nowhere near worth being justification for losing my baby, but a tiny good thing that could come out of their very short life.

 Overall, what I want is to have it acknowledged. Acknowledge that I had a baby. Acknowledge that it died. Acknowledge that I'm grieving. Acknowledge that I will be grieving for a while. Don't ignore it. Don't try to make smaller than what it is. Don't make it common. This is my grief and it will be what it will be.

If you've been through pregnancy loss of any kind, feel free to add your own thoughts, tips, experiences.

Again

They all think
I'm doing fine
Handling well this grief of mine
But they don't know
Cause I don't show
Collapsing to the floor at times
The silent screams
The bitter cries
The heart inside me tries to hide

They can't see
What it means to me
Another loss that tried to be
It's old hat
She's used to that
It must have lost intensity
Don't understand
There's no old hand
No such familiarity

Each time is fresh
Each wound is new
Pain that I have not been through
I try to walk
But I can't stand
Crouching, clenching empty hands
Betrayed again
Can't make it stop

Journey Through Baby Sleepland

My Bug is 28 months old and he sleeps with me. We are co-sleeping bed-sharers. (gasp!)
This is not info we share with a lot of people. On the odd time that it gets brought up, it's not unusual to get strange looks or disapproval masked in disbelief. When he was younger, I received a lecture from a concerned friend on how it was dangerous to his development to have him in the room with us. He would never learn to be independent, and trying to teach him to sleep on his own would be a nightmare. Her extreme concern was frustrating and flustering, leaving me with lame replies and half formed sentences. But, trust me, I know what I'm doing.
Before Bug's birth, we prepared for him as any couple would expecting their first child. We painted his room, arranged clothing on the shelves, picked out a tiny first outfit, stocked diapers, and bought a crib. All dark wood and shine, Boy set it up in Bug's room, and I made it up with an organic cotton mattress cover and cute blue sheets. The room was ready. Saying that, we weren't entirely sure when Bug would start to use it. I assumed we would, but I knew there was no way I would be ready for him to be down the hall from me for at least several months. We borrowed a cradle from neighbors and it set it up in our room so that he would be close by. I needed to be able to see him and hear him, to know that he was safe and ok through the night, and at the very beginning he was in our bed, but in his own little spot between us, away from blankets and pillows.
The first night we had Bug at home I began to get an indication that this sleep thing wasn't going to be anywhere near as smooth as I thought it would. I knew newborns woke frequently and needed to nurse often, but I wasn't prepared for him to cry every twenty minutes. It felt like as soon as I put him down, he would cry.  I just fed him. Was he really hungry again? Wasn't he comfortable? Was he hurting? I couldn't figure it out.  After a night or two, it finally occurred to me - this tiny person was used to being completely surround by me every second of day, how could I expect him to suddenly be ok with with not touching me at all? That's when he moved into my arms. Things improved a bit from there, but he continued to wake fairly frequently - anywhere from 30-60 minutes. I wish so much that I had known how to nurse lying down then. It would have made my life so much easier, but I couldn't figure out how to do it. I read one description/diagram, but it just didn't make any sense to me. So, I was getting out of bed at every wake, to sit in the lactation consultant recommend, hard-backed kitchen chair, strap on my (needed in a hard-backed chair) breast-feeding pillow, and nurse my baby. I can't remember how many times I fell asleep sitting there.
As things improved, we brought over the cradle and started trying to get him to sleep in it. I'd nursed him to sleep and slowly lower him into the cradle. Oh, the maneuvers we tried making that transition. Keeping my hand on him until he had settled, not unlatching him until I absolutely had to, even putting a heating pad under his blanket to try to make him think he was still getting Mama's body heat.* He slowly learned to occasionally stay asleep through the move, but his sleep got worse. He went back to waking every twenty minutes, and then it was ten, and then five. He would seem asleep and content, but a few minutes later he would be crying. Ahh! What was wrong with my baby? I asked family and friends for advice to no avail. Finally, a doula we knew suggested that we just bring him back into bed with us and try again later.  I felt so frustrated and discouraged, but it seemed like the only option. So, he came back to bed with us. No more waking after five minutes.
Eventually I stumbled across information that helped me figure out that he had reflux that was greatly worsened by milk in my diet. Cutting out dairy helped, but didn't cure his reflux. We tried raising the head of our bed, but it was no help. Thinking he maybe needed a greater angle, we bought a Tucker sling. Remembering something my sister had done with her babies, we brought that beautiful crib into our room, took off the drop side, and slid it up to the bed.  With the mattress raised and sling installed, we tried to get Bug to sleep there - no go. The angle might have been better for his reflux, but he was not a fan of it otherwise - and trying to get him in and out when he needed to nurse, ugh! It was horrible. The velcro would wake him even more than he was, and attempting to put a sleeping baby back into the sling was ten times worse than the cradle. We gave up quickly.
The sling went out, but the crib stayed. We lifted the head of his mattress for what little help it would give and I relished the bit of extra space it offered, as well as the security of knowing Bug couldn't roll off.  
As he continued to get older, but not sleep any better, I got more frustrated. I kept feeling like I was failing in my job as mother. I couldn't find a way to help him sleep, I couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. I tried everything I could think of - swaddling, an early bedtime, bedtime routine, aroma therapy - everything but cry-it-out. It didn't seem right from the beginning, and as I read more, I knew that it was not an option I would ever try. But, as he grew the pressure was on." It won't hurt him." Yes, it will. "He needs to learn." Not that he doesn't. "He's safe. He's fine." He doesn't know that. But, it was hard to keep the doubt from creeping in. Nothing else I did was helping him to sleep for more than an hour at a time. So many tears were shed over his difficulty with sleep. Mine, not just his. I sat down one day, and thought to myself, "Ok, enough of what the world wants me to do, enough of what everyone else's babies do. If it was just me, no media to tell me how babies should be raised, no other parents to share what they did, no two month olds who are sleeping through the night, just me, alone on an island having to care for my son, what would I do?" "Exactly what I'm doing." I would continue to cater to his needs. Because they were his needs. He wasn't just demanding that we do things his way, or trying to prove who was boss, he was asking for help. He needed me to nurse him to sleep. He needed me to hold him while he slept. He needed me to be there helping him go back to sleep no matter how often he woke. And he needed me to be patient while he developed the ability to do this sleep thing on his own.
I remember the first night that I left him alone in our room. He had eventually gotten to where I could put him down once asleep, and after a while I realized I should try leaving the room. I turned our baby monitor up loud and rushed up to him the second I heard him moving around about his one hour wake up. But, we did it and it was ok!
He was about ten or eleven months old.
I remember the first night he slept for two hours! Amazing!  Maybe he would keep going and start sleeping longer and longer! No such luck, but it was a breakthrough.
He was at least thirteen months old.
I remember his first night hitting three hours.
He was fifteen months old.
He's made it to four hours, but I'm sure I could count on my fingers how many times he's done that. Two months ago, he actually slept for five hours, 45 minutes, and I expect we will see that again, but who knows when.
This is my son. This is who he is. He's beautiful, and smart, and funny, and happy, but he doesn't sleep well.
I've been through many periods of discouragement, days of sleep deprivation, and times doubting my judgment, but despite his tendency to do one step forward and two steps back, despite the fact that he nurses half the night on a semi-regular basis, despite the VERY BAD PATCHES he goes through every three-four months - that I can't decipher, no matter how hard I try - I continue to co-sleep and night nurse. Because - I love my son, and I know this is what is best for him, and what works for our family.

Along the way, I've learned a few things:

1. Listen to your instincts. They are almost always right.
2. Newborn babies should not be separated from their mamas.
3. Your baby's needs won't be the same as their baby's needs.
4. It's ok to use a swing to help him fall asleep if that's the only thing that will calm his reflux that night. It's a tool.
5. Only you and your husband are qualified to decide what is best for your family.
6. Cry-it-out doesn't just feel bad, it is bad. Cons of controlled crying
7. You will get a lot of unsolicited advice. Ignore all of it. It is almost never any good.
8. Family beds are nice!
9. Having a baby that does not do something well does not reflect the quality of your mothering.
10. Sweet good-morning smiles cover a multitude of night wakings.

Please remember that just like putting a baby in a crib, there are safety guidelines for bed sharing. Family bed safety
*I do not currently recommend anyone using a heating pad on or near their baby. There are far too many dangers in such use.

Stress Ball - Being One, not Having One

Do you ever go through times where everything going on is stressful? I feel like our life is stress glued together by stress. Boy has been looking for a new position for months now, and nothing is working out. He keeps interviewing at churches, having them tell him they really like him, he's their best candidate, etc, but - they can't hire him, because they don't have peace about it. How many lines of work can use that as a valid reason for not hiring someone, eh? (insert half sarcastic laugh) Well, the rest of you non-ministry families, thank your lucky patooties, cause it's an incredibly frustrating place to be. In a way it's easier, since it doesn't reflect on personality or a lack of skills on his part, so it doesn't hit his self-esteem in the same way, but on the other side, it can also be harder, since there is nothing he can work on or improve in order to have a better chance at the next one.
This last "no" that came through was our last chance to have a job lined up for when his current one ends at the end of November. So, now we are facing the reality that he will unemployed, and we have no idea for how long, since there is nothing else on the horizon.
We are continuing to try for a baby, but it seems like poor timing right now with this situation. We have no idea when a new job will work out, when we will have to move, and I can't even begin to think about trying to find a care provider in the middle of a pregnancy. That freaks me out the most. Midwives here fill up quickly and if you don't call right away, there is a good chance you won't get in. Having a hospital birth might not be horrible if I could find a doctor who would work with me and all that I want for my next birth, but such people are difficult to find anywhere, and almost completely impossible in a health system that gives little or no room to choose your own doctor. Heck, it's hard enough to find a doctor - period, let's not even contemplate finding one who is natural minded.
Have I mentioned that we're potty training? Although, can you call it training when you aren't actually making any progress? At this point, it's more like poorly working ECing. We don't go through a day without at least one pair of wet pants in the laundry, and more likely two or three. Bug is gaining the control - he can hold it for quite a while when he tries, but he doesn't yet have the self-control to get to the toilet. If Mama and Daddy remember to get him there on a regular basis, we do ok, but that becomes useless when it gets to the pooing. Sometimes, I look at him and realize what is going on, but lately he's started refusing to let me take him to the bathroom, so he just poos in his underwear (or, you know, where ever he happens to be standing pants-less. Which was on my desk chair earlier. I'm typing away on Boy's computer and notice a smell. At first, I think, "Bad fart." Then I begin to realize it's not going away. Turn around, and there is my beloved Bug standing on my chair, straddling a puddle and poo while futzing around on my computer. Awesome. He's, like, completely oblivious to the fact that he just pooed. On my chair. Did I say that part yet?)  I know he's just not ready to full on train yet, and we've talked about going back to diapers, but I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. I wonder how long it will take him to finally learn if we keep up with what we're doing. I wonder if there is anything else I can do to help him get there faster.
Anyone want to trade lives for a little while?

On Keeping My Mouth Shut

How do you know when to say something? I keep running into mothers and hearing or seeing things that make me want to speak up. I mentioned, on an earlier post, one mom I know who was sure her baby was not getting any breast milk, because he cried every time she tried to nurse him, and pumping was producing next to nothing. I'm far from an expert, but I've read enough articles to know that there was a good chance that lack of milk wasn't her problem, but - her boy is now four and she stated she won't be having any more kids, so what would be the point of letting her know she may have been wrong? I didn't know her that well, and as mothers, nursing our babies usually ends up being a very sensitive subject.
A few days ago I met a mom with a cute little five month old. Somehow the subject came around to breastfeeding, and she shared that she had quit nursing at two weeks, because he had "sucked her dry." She continued explaining that she ended up with one breast producing extremely little and one producing gushes. I wanted to tell her that likely she had just been nursing too much on the full side, and needed to work on switching it around so that the emptier side knew that it needed to start producing more. A fairly simple fix, although it would take some patience. But, I didn't know this mom at all. It was too late for her to go back, so do I say something and make her feel bad that she "didn't try hard enough?" Or do I risk it, so that she might have more info for next time, if there was to be a next time?
This morning I went to a program at our local library. As it was breaking up, I watched a mom buckle her tiny daughter into a car seat. I noticed afterwards that the straps seemed loose, but it was hard to tell without actually checking them. I wanted to say something to her, but what? How do you tell a mom that her baby isn't properly buckled in without insinuating that she is being a careless mother? I really wish that I had figured out what to say, but once again I didn't know this mom at all. The group is new and I'm really hoping to make some friends there, and I'm sure I'm already singled out as the freak who comes in barefoot and breast-feeds her two year old. Plus, I'm always waay too nervous about offending or upsetting people. So, I chickened out. I've thought about it a lot today, and I still can't figure out how to approach something like that.
Occasionally, I will approach topics like this with friends, but even then I feel like it's a guessing game on how they will respond. There are these things that I think are so important, and a lot of the time people just don't have good information. I want to share what I have, but I don't want to damage relationships at the same time. Any topic involving how we mother has the potential to become completely unintentionally, hurtful. Ugh, how do we know when to share, how to share, and when to just be quiet?

My Uterus = None of Your Business

This will not be an unfamiliar rant to any woman, so why are women the most common offenders?

I don't get how, you, a little known acquaintance, feel the right to ask me questions about my uterus, or perhaps, my sex life. Oh, you say you did no such thing? Really. Well, let's go back a little. There we were sharing a little conversation, commenting on how cute my son is, typical small talk topics, and then, out of the blue, "No more kids yet?" Hmm, well since you don't see any more kids kicking around me, haven't noticed the presence of a tiny being attached to my hip, shoulder, or any other visible body part, I have to assume you are asking about my uterus. Any kids in there? Essentially, you are asking, "Are you pregnant?" But some sort of common sense tells you that that is not an appropriate question to ask someone you barely know, so how does it fail to tell you that your chosen phrasing is still not ok? Seriously.

And you, yes, you, the one who never says more than, "Hello. How are you?" The one time you stop to comment on Bug and ask his age, is not the one time it becomes ok for you to ask if we are going to have any more. Or, decoded, "Are you having, or planning to have, unprotected sex with your husband?"  Sure, that's not what you intend to ask, but really, it's not that much different. It's still personal and not something you should be asking an almost stranger.

And then, my all time favorite, you have known me for a little while, we talk occasionally about children, jobs, the weather, but nothing bellow the surface, except now you decide to ask, "When are you having more?" For some unknown reason you have no idea that this might not be as casual a question as, "How's your weekend?" Well, let's see... first of all I would have to give you the information that my husband and I have indeed decided that we want more, and then of course would be the information that we have chosen to "get it on," and knock me up. Too much info? Wait, I'm not done. Next comes the information that we have been "doing it" for the past year and the result so far has been two miscarriages. Finally, I would need to tell you that we continue to mate on a regular basis, but who knows if the next one will end in miscarriage as well. It could even turn out that I may not be able to have another baby. (God grant that this is not true.) More than you wanted to know? Deeper than you wanted to go? Think before you ask.

If you really feel the need to ask something, try, "Do you want to have more kids?" This question doesn't touch timing - "Are you pregnant now? Will you be soon?" It doesn't inquire into my sex life or personal choices, require me to explain anything, or figure out how to avoid unwanted intimacy with you. I can simply say, "Yes."

Little update on me

Offering a little update for those who might care -

I've just started a Twitter account for those little things I want to express but aren't big enough to blog about. Hopefully, it won't be a flash in the pan for me, but I make no guarantees on how often I will use it. You can find a link in my sidebar if you are at all interested in following.

For those who have been following my baby journey, Boy and I have decided we are ready to start trying again. I've started using a progesterone cream, because I think there is a really good probability that that has been a issue, although it's not entirely certain. We've never had trouble getting pregnant (one or two months trying has always done it), and I may be already. Eeee. So, all prayers, baby dust, best wishes, and good luck will be accepted. Thanks!

My Great Lack of Like Minds

One of these days I might just start my own commune or something, I don't know. I've just been longing to find like minded mama's in my area. Just one would be great. One other mom who wouldn't find it odd that I still breastfeed my little one, or that he still sleeps in our family bed. One mom who cloth diapers her babes, carries them around in a beautiful carrier, chooses for their health not to vaccinate them, and speaks gently to them when they "misbehave." Occasionally, I can find someone who fills one or two of these criteria (baby wearing is becoming a popular trend), but never all. I know you are out there somewhere - "hello, lady." I see you roaming the internet, commenting on some of my favorite sites, writing your own blogs, or even reading this one, but when it comes to real life, you are as elusive as the unicorn.
This morning, I was at a play group Bug and I regularly attend, and a few of the mamas with littles under a year started to chat about formula, which ones they bought, which ones their babies would eat, how much they cost, etc. There was one other who mentioned she hadn't used formula, but pumped when she wanted to give a bottle, but at the same time, you could tell that no one thought it was at all strange that these babies were given formula as just a normal part of their lives. It's just another perfectly acceptable option for feeding your baby.
From there the conversation turned to videos and how much their little ones love to watch certain baby geared shows. One mom expressed her excitement on how a video of animals entranced her ten month old daughter and gave her twenty minutes of peace.
As I listened to these conversations, I realized how little I understand these mothers. I don't get how you can choose processed foods over natural ones. I think formula is a valid and needed choice for a mama who has no other options, who has worn her butt out trying to provide breastmilk for her little one and come up empty handed (although I see far too many mamas who feel they have done this, but are unaware of simple information that would have helped them out, such as: your baby crying every time you nurse does not mean he's not getting anything - it may be reflux, pumping is not indicative of what your baby is able to get - babies are designed to work the breast in ways pumps never could, and, reflux is most commonly a reaction to dairy - consider taking it out of your diet.) Back on track - even if  formula was the only option I felt I had, I would prefer to find an organic or homemade formula rather than buy the chemical filled cans that fill most grocery store shelves. I don't mean to write that I am some how better than these other moms because I breastfed exclusively for at least six months, but simply that I don't understand them. I can't get inside their heads, and I can't relate to them at all. Sometimes it feels like they are speaking a foreign language.
I don't understand how it can be such a hardship to spend time with your baby either, to be so desperate for twenty minutes of peace from her that a baby video is exciting for you. I mean, I could understand it intellectually if she was a really fussy or needy little one, but the (admittedly brief) time I see her, she seems to be a very happy, content, independent girl. Even for a fussy baby, I'm not sure I could emotionally understand the need for a break. A break from the fussiness, yes; a break from my baby, maybe not. Maybe I'm remembering through rosy glasses, but I do know that I always felt a little bit hurt when someone or something other than me was able to calm Bug down. Anyway, it just never occurred to me to put him in front of the tv to get him out of the way for a bit, so I have no understanding of how this mama mind works.
In the end, I just felt lonely. I had no way to connect with these mothers. No one to chat with about how my changing hormones might be affecting Bug through my milk, or how little sleep I've gotten lately due to him having a few very nurse-y nights, tossing and turning in my bed, or what cloth diapers might pull down easily for night time toilet training, or ideas on how to teach him how to be sorry when he hits his cousin, instead of just forcing him to say "sorry," or how to show others that just because I'm not yelling at my son, doesn't mean I'm not teaching him how to treat others with love.

(Sigh) I just need one or two like minded mamas, who I can sit down with and have a chat about being a mama, someone who gets they way I think, who understands where I'm coming from, and who can connect with my mama spirit.