Yes my friends, this blog is going to be another testament to trusting your gut. Not the books, not the doctors, not the labels…..but your gut!
Two weeks ago M. started to run a 102 fever. As directed by my pediatrician, I gave M. Tylenol to bring it down a bit. Not having any left in the house, my husband picked up “grape splash” Tylenol and M. got his first dose at 4pm. We then gave him another at 10pm, then another at 6am. The morning rolls around and at 8am I am changing M. out of his pajamas. I was horrified!
M.’s legs look he had been “mutilated by a cat” and those were the exact words I used when I called the allergist’s office. His pant legs had blood on them and his stomach had a “bubble like” rash on it. M. was reacting to something, I just didn’t know what. The only new product he ingested was the “grape splash” Tylenol. The nurse I spoke to however felt the need to relay a different message to the doctor and described M.’s symptoms as a cough and sneeze with allergy like symptoms. Even if I rearrange the letters “mutilated by a cat” I can’t come up with “cough and sneeze”. I can come up with “dim bulb” though if I use the “b” twice.
And that’s exactly what this nurse must have been because I get a call back that the doctor wants M. on 1/2 teaspoon of Zyrtec. Hmmmm…..how is Zyrtec going to help the kid’s skin? I ask the question and she said “because his itching is from allergies”. I reluctantly accepted the answer and kept M. on Zyrtec for 5 days. He showed no relief, only got worse and so I stopped using it.
Fast forward to this morning. A phone call from my husband prompts me to quickly get on the internet. Children’s Tylenol and Children’s Zyrtec are being recalled, among other products, for not passing quality standards for the product. The products being recalled could contain higher levels of active ingredients, a inactive ingredient that may not meet their internal test requirements and tiny particles. Ortho McNeil is claiming that the medications will not cause “adverse medical reactions.”
Ok…so where do I begin? Should I be mad at Ortho McNeil for once again minimizing that they are HARMING CHILDREN, the FDA, who just change their name from Food & Drug Administration to “fail”, “disappoint”, and “aggravate” or should I direct my anger at the “dim bulb” who didn’t listen to me? I knew something was wrong, but, yet again, I was directed by a nurse to leave it to the doctor. You know, the expert.
Moms and Dads….this will not be the last time I say this, but you are the expert of your child. Follow your instincts, fight like hell and speak up when you know you’re right. And if the doctor doesn’t like it, too bad. Find a new one.
For more information about the recall, visit http://www.mcneilproductrecall.com/
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Getting Ready For Food Allergy Awareness Week (May 9-15)
Recognize Food Allergy Awareness Week by Respecting Every Bite
National Awareness Campaign Aims to Educate, Raise Awareness
FAIRFAX, Va. (April 28, 2010) – Millions of Americans with food allergies must treat every morsel they eat as if it could potentially cause them to have a reaction, one that could even be fatal – they must “Respect Every Bite.” This message, the theme of the 13th Annual Food Allergy Awareness Week (FAAW), must also hold true for individuals without food allergies.
Regretfully, studies show that the public’s knowledge and awareness of food allergies is lacking and often inaccurate. The Food Allergy & Anaphylaxis Network (FAAN) urges everyone to “Respect Every Bite” during FAAW (May 9-15) and throughout the year in order to keep individuals with food allergies free from reactions and to show compassion for the challenges that food allergies bring with them.
Country music star Trace Adkins has joined FAAN for a new public service announcement intended to provide much-needed education about food allergy and the risks associated with this potentially life-threatening condition. Adkins’ daughter Brianna is one of 3 million children in the U.S. living with food allergies.
“The prevalence of food allergies is on the rise, especially among children, says Adkins. “And until there’s a cure, it’s crucial we learn everything we can about food allergies and do whatever we can to keep our children safe.”
Despite the widely-publicized increase in the number of children with food allergies, Americans still have misconceptions about food allergies. A study in the Annals of Allergy, Asthma & Immunology published last year showed about 65 percent of those surveyed using the Chicago Food Allergy Research Survey for the General Public correctly answered general questions about food allergy. Alarmingly, nearly half of those surveyed mistakenly believed there is a cure for food allergy and more than two-thirds incorrectly said a daily medicine could be taken to avoid food allergy reactions.
“There is no cure for food allergy – yet,” said FAAN CEO Julia Bradsher. “In the meantime, we must do everything we can to raise awareness and educate the public.”
These efforts are crucial. A study published in Pediatrics late last year revealed that more children are seeking medical treatment for food allergy-related reasons. Food allergy is the cause of approximately 300,000 ambulatory care visits per year among children.
Monday, April 26, 2010
When I became pregnant I had every intention of going back to work. I should clarify here that the work I’m referring to was that of an office, a male boss, a 50 hour work week and a paycheck. I didn’t think I could afford to stay home and resigned it within myself that my baby would be enrolled in daycare. Little did I know that the daycare option was not going to be an option at all, and therefore, “work” was about to take on a whole new meaning.
M. developed food allergies as an infant. His allergies are severe enough, and plentiful enough, that trusting anyone to have the diligence to care for him the way my husband and I would was off the table. That meant that M. became my new employer and I was working for free. Sales calls turned into doctors calls, “shopping” competitors turned into shopping for diapers and weekly staff meetings turned into weekly play dates. Another big difference - I used to get an hour lunch break and pee when I wanted….ahhh, those were the days.
When I first heard of M.’s allergies I prayed feverishly. Day and night I asked God to take them away. And then something interesting happened. When we realized M. wouldn’t be safe in daycare we began to discover ways we could cut costs so that I may stay home. My husband picked up a Sunday job and I supplemented with working every other weekend. We began to believe that it was possible to turn me into a stay at home mom. And even though I still pray every day, all day, that M.’s allergies will disappear, I can’t help but be grateful that he got them. If he hadn’t, I don’t know that my husband and I would have worked so hard to come up with a Plan B. And now, when he outgrows them, his mom will still be there - dancing and shopping and playing and taking him out to lunch for his first peanut butter & jelly sandwich.
I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be a stay at home mom. I didn’t know how we would manage. But, here we are, managing. I don’t live in a mansion or drive a sports car (M.’s car seat wouldn’t be able to fit in it anyway) but we have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food in our bellies. I don’t know how we’re doing it, but we are. It’s funny how we can live on less and not even miss the other stuff. I don't care about the fancy dinners or the movies or extravagant trips to Europe because I think of the alternative. I can remember watching M. take his first step, I heard his first word, I dance with him every afternoon and get to take my time with him in the morning as we get ready to take on the day. There is just no comparison.
You might be asking yourself, “Yeah, but what does this have to do with “what the books say”. Well, I guess it’s that sometimes we get caught up in the book we create for ourselves. We write down our plans and feel an allegiance to them. But life changes and it’s okay to change with it. Don’t fear the unexpected or the unplanned or become angry when what we think we want doesn’t happen. It just means there is something better and grander waiting for us. And although we want our prayers to be answered, just remember, that one of God’s greatest gifts is sometimes an unanswered prayer.
Until next time,
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
M. developed food allergies as an infant. His allergies are severe enough, and plentiful enough, that trusting anyone to have the diligence to care for him the way my husband and I would was off the table. That meant that M. became my new employer and I was working for free. Sales calls turned into doctors calls, “shopping” competitors turned into shopping for diapers and weekly staff meetings turned into weekly play dates. Another big difference - I used to get an hour lunch break and pee when I wanted….ahhh, those were the days.
When I first heard of M.’s allergies I prayed feverishly. Day and night I asked God to take them away. And then something interesting happened. When we realized M. wouldn’t be safe in daycare we began to discover ways we could cut costs so that I may stay home. My husband picked up a Sunday job and I supplemented with working every other weekend. We began to believe that it was possible to turn me into a stay at home mom. And even though I still pray every day, all day, that M.’s allergies will disappear, I can’t help but be grateful that he got them. If he hadn’t, I don’t know that my husband and I would have worked so hard to come up with a Plan B. And now, when he outgrows them, his mom will still be there - dancing and shopping and playing and taking him out to lunch for his first peanut butter & jelly sandwich.
I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be a stay at home mom. I didn’t know how we would manage. But, here we are, managing. I don’t live in a mansion or drive a sports car (M.’s car seat wouldn’t be able to fit in it anyway) but we have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food in our bellies. I don’t know how we’re doing it, but we are. It’s funny how we can live on less and not even miss the other stuff. I don't care about the fancy dinners or the movies or extravagant trips to Europe because I think of the alternative. I can remember watching M. take his first step, I heard his first word, I dance with him every afternoon and get to take my time with him in the morning as we get ready to take on the day. There is just no comparison.
You might be asking yourself, “Yeah, but what does this have to do with “what the books say”. Well, I guess it’s that sometimes we get caught up in the book we create for ourselves. We write down our plans and feel an allegiance to them. But life changes and it’s okay to change with it. Don’t fear the unexpected or the unplanned or become angry when what we think we want doesn’t happen. It just means there is something better and grander waiting for us. And although we want our prayers to be answered, just remember, that one of God’s greatest gifts is sometimes an unanswered prayer.
Until next time,
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Parents aren’t the only group of people who get wrapped up in the written word and hold it gospel. Doctors are just as guilty, yet their vice comes in the form of a textbook.
In my first entry I promised glimpses into the journey with my son (in all fairness - my husband’s journey too). As many parents do, I prayed for a healthy child. One with ten fingers, ten toes and all faculties intact. I also, however, strayed from the pack of parents that remained neutral on gender. You know the type I’m referring to – “Oh, I don’t care what I’m having, as long as the baby is healthy.” I was different – I did care. I made my feelings known that a boy was my preference. Did this partiality affect my son’s health? Did I make my avid position on “boy vs. girl” more prominent than “health”? I’m smarter than that and know that God is not vindictive, but my guilt remains unbroken. (More on that in an upcoming entry).
When M. was born he stayed in my arms for about three minutes before he was whisked away to x-ray. His shoulder became stuck during labor and they feared that his collar bone may be broken. (I should also point out here that I had to first wait for the doctor to resuscitate my son before I even got those three minutes, but those are not details I want to relive for the sake of this entry.) Turns out his collar bone did not break, but he did spend his first seven days of life on antibiotics due to an infection.
If those had been the only bumps along the way, I would have considered myself lucky. Little did I know, however, that this was just the beginning.
For four weeks M. couldn’t keep anything down. He made his inability to process milk known through exorcist like vomiting that shot so far he would reach the wall from his crib. That is not an exaggeration for the purposes of illustration – he literally could reach the wall from his crib, two feet away. I spent many hours on the phone with our very patient, empathetic pediatrician (whom I adore). We switched formulas four times, including breast milk, and always ended up with the same conclusion – it just wasn’t working. We ultimately decided that seeing a Pediatric Gastroenterologist was beneficial. The only problem was that this was early November and the earliest appointment was late December. I took matters into my own hands…
If I couldn’t get in to see a specialist, I thought I would try my luck at the Emergency Department. After all, wouldn’t they be able to tell me what’s wrong? Wouldn’t they be able to run tests to determine the source of M.’s pain? One would think.
After the typical “rigamaroo” and red tape, a “doctor” walked into our room, clipboard and stethoscope in tow. Didn’t you know that all you need is a clipboard and stethoscope with no apparent knowledge about medicine to be considered a doctor? Apparently, that’s the criteria, but I digress.
I explained M.’s symptoms in detail. The doctor, without looking up from his clipboard or touching my son, said to me, “You’re son has colic. Do you know what colic is? Colic is when otherwise healthy babies who continue to gain weight cry without cause. Nobody knows why babies get it, but he’ll outgrow it in three months.”
This, my friends, is a case of “the textbook says, so it must be true.”
I cried all the way home because I felt like I just failed my son. He couldn’t speak and it was my job to be his voice, yet, I wasn’t vocal enough. I decided from that moment on I would never again let a doctor dismiss me so easily. Little did I know that I would have my chance sooner than I thought.
Ten days later (with a few doctors’ visits in between), M’s condition worsened. He was lethargic, his eyes were sunken in and he was no longer producing dirty diapers. I called the closest radiologist office and told them we would be there within the hour. The woman on the receiving end explained that the office didn’t like kinks in their schedule. (Insert my very colorful response).
An hour later, as promised, I walked up to the receptionist’s desk as if I was there for my scheduled appointment. To my surprise, the doctor was willing to see M. So, after two hours of waiting, testing and results, we were heading home to pack a bag for emergency surgery….and guess where that was…the same hospital that turned us away ten days prior.
M. was diagnosed with Pyloric Stenosis. A condition that is, although fairly common in first born white males with O+ blood and simple to correct, very serious. His pylorus muscle, which connects the stomach to the intestine, was narrowed. For six weeks my son was not receiving nutrition and was extremely dehydrated.
When we arrived at the ER I expected a full apology. Guess what I got instead? Excuses, explanations and this memorable comment, “Don’t be so worried, Pyloric Stenosis doesn’t cause pain”.
Every doctor, resident and student (yes, this is a teaching hospital….scary, I know) said the same thing. “How can he have PS, he’s been gaining weight?” One doctor went as far as to say, “Even with the x-ray films I’m skeptical.”
According to the textbooks, one must be losing weight in order to have Pyloric Stenosis. My son was gaining, albeit at a slow rate, but still gaining.
The doctors went forward with M.’s surgery the following morning. He did, in fact, have this condition and made a full recovery. I am the one that remains scathed.
And so, my point is that we aren’t the only ones, us parents, that get wrapped up in “the book says”. Unfortunately, though, no matter who we are, parents, doctors or both, we do ourselves a disservice when we don’t trust our gut. Remember this – trust your thoughts. The words you have read in your books were just thoughts too before they were put to paper. Just because you aren’t published doesn’t mean you don’t know what you’re talking about. And make sure you tell your doctor that.
Until next time,
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
In my first entry I promised glimpses into the journey with my son (in all fairness - my husband’s journey too). As many parents do, I prayed for a healthy child. One with ten fingers, ten toes and all faculties intact. I also, however, strayed from the pack of parents that remained neutral on gender. You know the type I’m referring to – “Oh, I don’t care what I’m having, as long as the baby is healthy.” I was different – I did care. I made my feelings known that a boy was my preference. Did this partiality affect my son’s health? Did I make my avid position on “boy vs. girl” more prominent than “health”? I’m smarter than that and know that God is not vindictive, but my guilt remains unbroken. (More on that in an upcoming entry).
When M. was born he stayed in my arms for about three minutes before he was whisked away to x-ray. His shoulder became stuck during labor and they feared that his collar bone may be broken. (I should also point out here that I had to first wait for the doctor to resuscitate my son before I even got those three minutes, but those are not details I want to relive for the sake of this entry.) Turns out his collar bone did not break, but he did spend his first seven days of life on antibiotics due to an infection.
If those had been the only bumps along the way, I would have considered myself lucky. Little did I know, however, that this was just the beginning.
For four weeks M. couldn’t keep anything down. He made his inability to process milk known through exorcist like vomiting that shot so far he would reach the wall from his crib. That is not an exaggeration for the purposes of illustration – he literally could reach the wall from his crib, two feet away. I spent many hours on the phone with our very patient, empathetic pediatrician (whom I adore). We switched formulas four times, including breast milk, and always ended up with the same conclusion – it just wasn’t working. We ultimately decided that seeing a Pediatric Gastroenterologist was beneficial. The only problem was that this was early November and the earliest appointment was late December. I took matters into my own hands…
If I couldn’t get in to see a specialist, I thought I would try my luck at the Emergency Department. After all, wouldn’t they be able to tell me what’s wrong? Wouldn’t they be able to run tests to determine the source of M.’s pain? One would think.
After the typical “rigamaroo” and red tape, a “doctor” walked into our room, clipboard and stethoscope in tow. Didn’t you know that all you need is a clipboard and stethoscope with no apparent knowledge about medicine to be considered a doctor? Apparently, that’s the criteria, but I digress.
I explained M.’s symptoms in detail. The doctor, without looking up from his clipboard or touching my son, said to me, “You’re son has colic. Do you know what colic is? Colic is when otherwise healthy babies who continue to gain weight cry without cause. Nobody knows why babies get it, but he’ll outgrow it in three months.”
This, my friends, is a case of “the textbook says, so it must be true.”
I cried all the way home because I felt like I just failed my son. He couldn’t speak and it was my job to be his voice, yet, I wasn’t vocal enough. I decided from that moment on I would never again let a doctor dismiss me so easily. Little did I know that I would have my chance sooner than I thought.
Ten days later (with a few doctors’ visits in between), M’s condition worsened. He was lethargic, his eyes were sunken in and he was no longer producing dirty diapers. I called the closest radiologist office and told them we would be there within the hour. The woman on the receiving end explained that the office didn’t like kinks in their schedule. (Insert my very colorful response).
An hour later, as promised, I walked up to the receptionist’s desk as if I was there for my scheduled appointment. To my surprise, the doctor was willing to see M. So, after two hours of waiting, testing and results, we were heading home to pack a bag for emergency surgery….and guess where that was…the same hospital that turned us away ten days prior.
M. was diagnosed with Pyloric Stenosis. A condition that is, although fairly common in first born white males with O+ blood and simple to correct, very serious. His pylorus muscle, which connects the stomach to the intestine, was narrowed. For six weeks my son was not receiving nutrition and was extremely dehydrated.
When we arrived at the ER I expected a full apology. Guess what I got instead? Excuses, explanations and this memorable comment, “Don’t be so worried, Pyloric Stenosis doesn’t cause pain”.
Every doctor, resident and student (yes, this is a teaching hospital….scary, I know) said the same thing. “How can he have PS, he’s been gaining weight?” One doctor went as far as to say, “Even with the x-ray films I’m skeptical.”
According to the textbooks, one must be losing weight in order to have Pyloric Stenosis. My son was gaining, albeit at a slow rate, but still gaining.
The doctors went forward with M.’s surgery the following morning. He did, in fact, have this condition and made a full recovery. I am the one that remains scathed.
And so, my point is that we aren’t the only ones, us parents, that get wrapped up in “the book says”. Unfortunately, though, no matter who we are, parents, doctors or both, we do ourselves a disservice when we don’t trust our gut. Remember this – trust your thoughts. The words you have read in your books were just thoughts too before they were put to paper. Just because you aren’t published doesn’t mean you don’t know what you’re talking about. And make sure you tell your doctor that.
Until next time,
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
Monday, April 12, 2010
I had the grandest of plans when I set out to be a mother. Everything was perfectly laid out in my mind. My child would always behave, eat all of his meals, never use a pacifier and dammit if he was ever going to watch television. Well, let me tell you how that’s going. Just this past Monday my child smacked the doctor’s glasses off of his face, threw his milk across the room, rummaged through my purse until he found his binky, making me so defeated that when we got home I plopped him in front of Sesame Street because I just couldn’t take it anymore. How’s that for perfect parenting?
Crow was on my menu for awhile after becoming a mom and boy did I eat a lot of it. You see, I thought I had it all figured out. I had been a part time nanny to a wonderful family and believed that parenting would be just as easy. I was also a camp counselor for years, the oldest of eight kids and I read all the books. You know the ones I’m referring to - you’ve read them too. I knew what to expect, my baby would be the happiest in the neighborhood and communication between the two of us was going to be key. How could I fail? I had an arsenal of knowledge. All that was left to do was have the baby. Riiiigggghhhhtttt…......
The person that knows all too well the amount of crow I’ve eaten is my sister in law. She has two children of her own (twins) and they were born five years before I became a parent. Needless to say, she had years of enduring me and my “know it all” comments. She did things I didn’t agree with and I let her know it, under my breath of course. I would say to my husband on the car rides home, “I can’t believe she let them get away with that,” or “our kids are never going to have ice cream if they don’t eat their dinner.” Well, let me pay homage to her now because having twins, one of which had colic, takes super woman strength. Not as much strength, though, as biting your tongue when comments from the peanut gallery come your way. How she did it I’ll never know, but a million thank yous for not rubbing it in too much.
If you are a seasoned parent I know you can relate to what I’m saying and you’re laughing your ass off right now. If you’re a new parent, you want to laugh but you feel guilty doing it. And if you’re not a parent and reading this you are still hell bent that your kid is “never going to do that.” Let me give you permission right now to write the sequel to this blog. You can name it, “I had a kid and she was right” and dedicate it to me.
Did the books help me? Of course. I’ve learned many things through the endless flipping of pages and have been able to implement most of it. My books still have the top corners dog eared for easy referencing. I’m simply trying to point out that things don’t always go according to plan and sometimes you can’t follow a strict set of rules. My goal is to give parents permission to let go a little. Recognize that it’s okay if you’re child doesn’t eat dinner before going to bed. He won’t starve and he’ll probably eat a big breakfast. Or he won’t. Either way, he’ll be fine. He’ll eat when he’s hungry. So, forgive yourself and stop stressing out. All is well and tomorrow is a new day.
Until next time,
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
Crow was on my menu for awhile after becoming a mom and boy did I eat a lot of it. You see, I thought I had it all figured out. I had been a part time nanny to a wonderful family and believed that parenting would be just as easy. I was also a camp counselor for years, the oldest of eight kids and I read all the books. You know the ones I’m referring to - you’ve read them too. I knew what to expect, my baby would be the happiest in the neighborhood and communication between the two of us was going to be key. How could I fail? I had an arsenal of knowledge. All that was left to do was have the baby. Riiiigggghhhhtttt…......
The person that knows all too well the amount of crow I’ve eaten is my sister in law. She has two children of her own (twins) and they were born five years before I became a parent. Needless to say, she had years of enduring me and my “know it all” comments. She did things I didn’t agree with and I let her know it, under my breath of course. I would say to my husband on the car rides home, “I can’t believe she let them get away with that,” or “our kids are never going to have ice cream if they don’t eat their dinner.” Well, let me pay homage to her now because having twins, one of which had colic, takes super woman strength. Not as much strength, though, as biting your tongue when comments from the peanut gallery come your way. How she did it I’ll never know, but a million thank yous for not rubbing it in too much.
If you are a seasoned parent I know you can relate to what I’m saying and you’re laughing your ass off right now. If you’re a new parent, you want to laugh but you feel guilty doing it. And if you’re not a parent and reading this you are still hell bent that your kid is “never going to do that.” Let me give you permission right now to write the sequel to this blog. You can name it, “I had a kid and she was right” and dedicate it to me.
Did the books help me? Of course. I’ve learned many things through the endless flipping of pages and have been able to implement most of it. My books still have the top corners dog eared for easy referencing. I’m simply trying to point out that things don’t always go according to plan and sometimes you can’t follow a strict set of rules. My goal is to give parents permission to let go a little. Recognize that it’s okay if you’re child doesn’t eat dinner before going to bed. He won’t starve and he’ll probably eat a big breakfast. Or he won’t. Either way, he’ll be fine. He’ll eat when he’s hungry. So, forgive yourself and stop stressing out. All is well and tomorrow is a new day.
Until next time,
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
My faith has taught me that with God anything is possible. It has also taught me that I have very little control over what the future holds. I learned years ago that “if you want to make God laugh tell Him you have plans”. Well, He must think that I’m ready for a Night at the Improv because I’ve done everything short of mailing Him my date book.
I’ve always been a planner. I was good at it and figured that I should probably make money doing it. So, I became one professionally. Everything in my life was scheduled by the hour. I measured my success by the amount of money I raised at an event and whether or not my client was happy by the end of the day. I was a “duck on water”, an old coworker used to say. We all were. Everything had the appearance of running smoothly but underneath it took frantic movement just to keep afloat. I thrived in this environment and made it my lifestyle. There was no line between my professional and personal lives. They were one in the same.
And then I became a mother.
My first mistake was showing up to the hospital, in labor, with a birth “plan”. It outlined things that were important to me to ensure a successful labor. Things like “please, no epidural, I’m going to try to be She-Woman and do this the all natural way” and “the cord is not to be cut right away, instead, place Rover on my stomach and allow him to find my breast, like all puppies do.” Granted, I worded these requests differently in the “plan”, but that might as well have been what I wrote, because yes, the requests are as ridiculous as they sound. My intentions were honorable, and I have the utmost respect for women who see natural birth all the way through, but fourteen hours into second stage labor and a blessing from my midwife had me promising a private "down there" viewing to the first doctor who showed up ready to shove the 6 inch needle filled with anesthesia into my back.
I gave it my best shot. I’m still an advocate for natural birth, for anyone other than me. A baby with a head size in the 99th percentile will change your mind for you, take my word for it.
But a birth that didn’t go quite as planned is just the beginning of my story. Motherhood has taught me that lists must be thrown to the wind, a two month old will be hard-pressed to get on a routine and praying for a healthy child doesn’t always guarantee one. It isn’t always part of His plan, and for good reason. I see that now, but getting here wasn’t easy.
Where exactly is here, you ask? I will take you on that journey, week after week, sometimes with humor, sometimes without, but always with this lesson in mind – you can’t and shouldn’t always rely on “what the book says.”
Where exactly is here, you ask? I will take you on that journey, week after week, sometimes with humor, sometimes without, but always with this lesson in mind – you can’t and shouldn’t always rely on “what the book says.”
Until next time,
"My Way" Mom
Disclaimer: Information posted is not meant to replace advice given by your doctor. It is for entertainment purposes only.
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