Dear Cat,
I saw a recent post that said you had weaned your son. Congratulations! I’d love to hear your reflections on motherhood post breastfeeding. How do you feel that having a biological child has changed you? – Amy
I’m A New Mommy
I feel like a new mommy. My boobs are back to normal. At least, they are as normal as they can be after breastfeeding for 18 months. I think they look like tiny pancakes with pepperoni garnish, melting in the July sun. I am told that this observation is nuts.
I just hit the two week mark of weaning Noah, and the pain of my body shifting away from lactation lasted exactly four days. Physically, it was uncomfortable, but tolerable. Emotionally, I think I’m at the rainbows and dew drops end of the hormonal shit storm that was visited upon me. Noah has adjusted beautifully, and he’s happy to snuggle instead of nurse, and he’s thriving in his new normal. As for me, I’ve given up on normal because I just can’t seem to find a way to feel like myself anymore.
Giving birth to a baby has changed me. Moving away from the city has changed me. Moving in with my mother, and now father-in-law has changed me. Homeschooling my children has changed me. Losing yet another beloved relative to cancer has changed me. Witnessing the horrendous loss that my dear friends faced has changed me. All of these epic changes, all in less than two years. I am changed.
For example, I will likely never live in a city again. The peace and solitude of the country agree very well with me, even if it means that the people I love and crave are far away. I always fantasized about having the place they would run to if my friends needed refuge, and right now, I think I’m there. I do not, for a second, miss city personalities or the crowded TTC. I do miss the convenience of being able to walk somewhere interesting where I can be with people if I choose to, but soon I’ll have a driver’s license like a real adult, so I can go and have coffee with all of the university kids in town and pound angstily on a keyboard while I listen to music that is completely alien to my almost-middle-aged ears. It will be just like Toronto, but without the pollution, or unwanted conversations with the mentally ill on the subway.
I used to think I could never have roommates again. Living with my in-laws has been an adjustment. I don’t feel like the beautiful house I currently live in is my home, and despite my mother and father’s incredible warmth and hospitality, I’m not sure I’ll ever think of the place as “mine”. It may be a product of my own cultural upbringing, it may be because property ownership is on my own bucket list. There are tremendous advantages to having wonderful grandparents very close by – the very best babysitters and an outrageously talented chef being two HUGE perks. I’m grateful for the love they shower our children with each waking moment of the day, and I’m eternally grateful for the ability to take a financial load off by saying goodbye to our oppressive Toronto lifestyle. My in-laws have treated me with incredible respect and kindness, and have been supportive of our family, despite some social pressures (this is serious understatement right here). They are really the best kind of in-laws you could ask for, yet I miss our independence, and the ability to wander sleepily around the house without pants, and perhaps a few other things you’d never consider doing if your parents were around. I know that makes me sound like a shit because the trade off is 30 acres of what I consider paradise, and more loving hands to raise my family, but there you have it. Our current dream consists of one day building our own house on my in-law’s land. I think that’s the best way to enjoy this utopian setting, and each other’s proximity. After all, I’m sure my in-laws miss their total privacy too.
I hate the world. Or at least the world as presented by any major media outlet. This is why I will often stare at you with horror when you blithely reference the latest shooting, typhoon, mudslide, or celebrity scandal. There’s a real chance I will have no idea what you’re talking about, unless we’re about two weeks after said news event. The media continues to focus only on tales of abject sadness and destruction. There is still a dire shortage of feel-good stories of help and humanity, and I just know these must outweigh the bad, because if they didn’t how the hell would any of us get out of bed each day? I ask Nekky to give me the Coles Notes versions of any major news events that I think may impact my ability to be perceived as a functioning member of society, like the strife in the Ukraine, or what’s happening in Syria. Meanwhile, I exist in a bubble of my own creation where I continue to not give a flying fuck about Bieber, any cats that become famous on the internet, or Rob Ford.
I need a vacation from my kids. If you know my children, you know that they are awesome human beings. They are smart, funny, kind, creative, thoughtful – poster kids for awesome. Ask anyone who isn’t related, and they’ll agree. Hanging with my girls has warmed the ovaries of some die hards who swore they would never parent. However, too much of anything can be a serious foray into the negatory. If I ate peanut butter and chocolate ice cream every day, I would no longer want to drive around in the middle of the night to find some. Spending over 12 hours each day with my daughters has made me want to fall on my knees and worship every great teacher I’ve ever known. If you ask me for my opinion (which I assume you are doing by reading this post), kids and parents SHOULD NOT be together all of the time. Even if they are living on a beach in Thailand. We’ve all done well considering the number of tears we’ve shed, and the Botox-worthy furrow lines on my forehead, but holy god are we looking forward to September when the kids start at a new school.
The underwire bra is a tool of misogynistic oppression. I spent so much time in the latter half of my breastfeeding days pining after my old lingerie. I waited until all of the weaning pain subsided, and then donned a fancy matching set of underthings, complete with padded, push-up, underwire bra. What. The. Hell??? How in the name of all tits did I go so many years wearing such things? Wearing an underwire bra is like wearing a band of medium gauge wire around your sternum all day. In fact, that’s exactly what it is! Sure, cleavage is fun, but at what cost? I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt like my heart was skipping a beat. I felt like I had to take it off in the grocery store bathroom and go free and floppy amongst the Saturday Costco throng because I couldn’t take it for another minute. Breast feeding has reduced me to a B cup if we’re being generous – I don’t need any support that requires the use of steel. And while we’re at it, you can keep your high heeled shoes too. I NEVER thought I would see the day where I said that high heels were oppressive, but maybe there’s something about squeezing a tiny man-head out of your lady bits that makes you seek comfort wherever and whenever you can. Henceforth, push up bras and heels are reserved for date nights and special occasions. Like when hell freezes over.
I’ve traded hot chicks for chickens. In Toronto, I used to surround myself with a bevy of babes who I count among the fiercest, most beautiful people I know. I would hear a song on the radio, and instantly dream up an elaborate way for them to turn that tune into art. These days, my beautiful friends visit once a month if I’m really lucky, and I spend my days gazing out the picture window in the kitchen dreaming of a little hobby farm with a pair of goats, some alpaca and some egg-laying hens. I find the smell of manure just as exhilarating as the backstage perfume of hair spray (“Smells like pretty” as my friend Dave would say) and I’m now the Artistic Director of my own destiny. In many ways, leading a bunch of emotional, feisty artists who had synced up their menstrual cycles was easier and less intimidating.
I’m smack in the middle of a sea change here, and I’m truly uncertain of where I am heading. After we tackle the mountainous terrain of financial planning and future dream lining, where do we end up? All of the things I used to rely on, count as certainties, assume to be fixed are gone. All but my family, and a select group of friends.
What’s next in store? Do I write some books? Travel? Build a home? Create a legacy for my children? Drown in debt? Get cancer? I miss the carefree feeling that my Toronto self had when I was blissfully unaware and utterly self-absorbed. Now my eyes are open, and it’s hard to fight the fear that keeps creeping in.
On Weaning
Mr. Noah Jamal turned 19 months old yesterday. My little man has so many words and so many things to say.
When we started out together, I had decided that I would breastfeed him until he was two, but as he grew stronger and more active, breastfeeding began to feel like a contact sport. Nipple tweaking, punching, biting, scratching, kicking and karate chops to the trachea were not uncommon. I was blessed with a healthy, easy pregnancy and straightforward delivery, but breastfeeding was a tremendously painful challenge for the first eight weeks of Noah’s life in the world. You can read all about that here. I was very determined to make it work, and so I stuck with it, with so much love and support from my partners. I knew I wanted to breastfeed as long as I could.
Weaning began to feel more and more appealing, but I was torn. I felt very emotional about the idea that we would no longer share such a close physical bond. Cutting the umbilical cord is a process that takes a lifetime, I think, and as each day passes by so quickly I see my little soul become increasingly independent. I’m proud of him, I can’t wait to see him grow and blossom, but I also ache for something I can’t quite name. Maybe it’s the ability to physically hold him close and keep him safe in my arms? Maybe it’s the idea that his whole universe seems so simple as he makes his first tender steps into this huge, scary world? It could be that I ache for something as simple as the nourishment and comfort that I alone can give him. There have been countless times since the day I learned that I was pregnant that I’ve felt like keeping my baby in my body forever, where none of the evils of the world would ever touch him. In my sleepless night-time moments I realize that I am powerless to protect him, and I’m terrified that I will leave the world before he’s strong enough to safeguard himself. I realize that the older he gets, the closer we get to the day when I have to explain things like 9/11 and cancer and why Toronto elected a drunken crack-head for a mayor. Parenting is a terror and joy unlike anything I could ever have imagined.
I half-heartedly tried to wean a few times over the last two months. Neither of us were ready, so no surprise that it didn’t work. Then, when I resolved that I was able to move on to the next great thing, Noah got a nasty cold, and I just couldn’t deny him the comfort of the breast. When he was better, we moved to feeding only first thing in the morning and just before daddy put him to bed.
He would ask to nurse, and I would explain that I didn’t have milk just then, but that we could cuddle and have a snack, or some warm milk in a bottle or juice. He accepted this with very little protest. If he pushed harder, I found a good distraction, like a walk outside or a favourite game. The next week, we cut out the night-time feeding and switched to a quiet snuggle on the couch with the mammas and a bottle before bed, no complaints at all here.
On one particular day, I wore a low-cut shirt. Insensitive, yes, but I wasn’t thinking as I rushed to get ready. He asked to nurse a couple of times, but when I explained that I didn’t have milk, he settled for gentle snuggle with my boobs. We were waiting for the car to get serviced, so it made for an amusing show. No more angry protests though.
Then on Sunday, Mother’s Day ironically and coincidentally, we nursed for the very last time. In the two days leading up to this event, I was really emotional. Not many places will tell you this, but you experience hormonal changes, and all of the fun that comes with that, as your body slows down and then stops milk production. I said goodbye to this sweet era of my baby’s life, the many tender moments where I’ve felt a connection like nothing I’ve experienced, and I prayed that even after I stopped being a food source, he would recognize the bond we’ve shared. I think part of me is worried that I can be easily replaced, and yes, I do suffer from low self-esteem.
Physically, I’m doing fine. No serious engorgement pain thus far. Emotionally, I still feel a bit tender, but nursing is replaced with voracious eating (by the baby, not me) and lots of snuggles and cuddles that Noah is initiating, which feels just wonderful. It’s such a joy to have him near and to not feel worried about getting injured. I think we were as ready as we could be, and I think that’s why this has gone so smoothly this time around.
You’ll read a lot about weaning. If you’re like me, all of your trusted breastfeeding resources will tell you not to wean, but I wasn’t convinced that Noah would wean himself any time soon, and it was becoming a largely unpleasant event. Public feeding had become next to impossible because it really seemed like one or both of us was being injured. You have to make the decisions that feel right for you, in the time line that suits you and your baby best. I think if we trust ourselves, and our instincts we always know when that is.
If you have questions about your own breastfeeding journey, or just want to share your breastfeeding stories, I’m all ears.
Meanwhile, enjoy this ridiculous video that somehow captures my feelings on alternative families, breastfeeding, nurturing, the soul of a mother, the bond between non-birth parents and their children, and the ridiculously random nature of the universe.
At the time of publishing, I am less tender, but very emotional and irritable. Take note mammas, weaning is hard on your body and your hormones, so take good care of yourselves. Give yourself a week of extra attention, long bubble baths and extra chocolate. You’re going to need it.
Mother’s Day for the Bereaved Parent
“Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow’” – Mary Anne Radmacher
On Sunday, most of us are going to be spoiled in some fashion by our children who will shower us with hand-made cards and breakfast in bed as we celebrate Mother’s Day. There are mothers among us who will find this holiday incredibly difficult, mothers we know and love who bear a pain so profound that it will be carried through their lifetimes, and for them I am writing this post. On Mother’s Day, let’s celebrate the inspiring courage of the bereaved mother.
This week, I’ve been thinking of my friends Natalie and Mike. They are a young couple, recently engaged. They’re smart, athletic, funny, warm, talented, good-looking, and healthy. There are so many more attributes to describe these wonderful people, but the one quality I most want to share with you is their bravery. In early September, at seven months pregnant, our friends lost their little baby, a son they named Aemon. Our circle felt the incredible ripple of this devastating loss, and I have been humbled and inspired at how Mike and Nat have wrapped themselves in a cloak of love and moved forward, one step at a time, through their grief.
I can’t imagine how losing a child could feel. In fact, the idea of such sorrow afflicting anyone I know or love has been so terrifying, that sometimes when I talk to Nat or Mike, I don’t really know what to say. In those moments, I say; “I love you.” Those words are the most important ones, I think.
Yesterday Mike, who is the more seasoned writer of the two, (Nat is a dancer and aerialist and tells her stories with her body) posted an incredible letter on his Facebook timeline. I asked him if I could share it with you, and he graciously permitted me to post. Below Mike’s letter are some resources for parents who are grieving. Nat and Mike both wanted me to make these available to you and anyone you know who might benefit. Please don’t be afraid to share, and please do take the time to explore these resources if you have a friend or relative who has experienced infant death. You will learn so much about how you can help.
Dear friends,
I want to share an important story that I feel I’ve been keeping off of Facebook for much too long. For the last several months I haven’t felt the strength to share this very personal story online with essentially everyone I know, but I feel that by not sharing the story I’m hiding a major part of myself, and I don’t want to do that anymore.
Last August I shared an image hinting that my darling love Natalie and I were expecting our first child, due in late October. Just a few weeks after sharing that photo, we found out that our baby had passed away. At dusk on Friday, September 6th Natalie gave birth to our beautiful son, Aemon. We won’t ever know why he wasn’t able to stay with us. He was perfect in every way, except that his heart had stopped beating.
Of course the loss was the most shocking and devastating thing we’ve ever experienced. For the last several months it’s been the love and support of the people closest to us that has sustained us, yet I’ve been reluctant to talk about our experience with people outside that close circle. I’m over that reluctance.
A meet-up with an old friend this week reminded me how hard we find it to talk about death, or rather how much easier it seems to be not to talk about it. This is much more the case when the person who left us is a baby that barely anyone ever got to physically interact with. I imagine that someone hearing about our kind of loss understands that it must be very severe and weighty, but also finds it kind of intangible. I imagine that that must be very disorienting, which might help explain why discussion of infant death is one of the gigantic taboos we live with – and a very alienating one. People carefully seek to protect our feelings and prevent us further pain, but for the record I want to point out that that effort is misdirected.
Most bereaved parents will tell you that no amount of discussion about their loss and their baby will make them feel worse. On the contrary, Natalie and I love talking about Aemon. Our love and our memories of him are all that we have left, and it brings us great joy to share them. My boy had big feet and a head of thick dark hair like me. Before he left us he liked to bug his mother, like me. If you’d like to know more, I would be happy to tell you.
This weekend as we all celebrate mothers and the magic of their love, please take a minute to think of the countless women who do not have a child to hold in their arms but who still hold that same bottomless love in their hearts. And while I have your attention: do be good to one another. Everyone really is fighting a hard battle, and all life really is a miracle.
Thanks for reading.
The butterfly is a symbol for infant mortality. Baby Butterfly by Sweeper22
Some resources that Natalie and Mike wanted to share:
The Pregnancy and Infant Loss Network (P.A.I.L)
“There is no Footprint too small to leave an imprint on this world”
PAIL Network is a registered Canadian charity committed to making a positive difference to those affected by pregnancy and infant loss. This incredible service has a wide-ranging network, mostly powered by women who have lost children of their own. This is an incredible resource linking to medical care, support groups, and a wealth of other valuable information for parents who are grieving the loss of a baby.
Their website is a bit dated and clinical, but this is a comprehensive resource for families who are grieving the loss of any family member. There are additional tools for families who have had to deal with completed suicide, sudden violent loss, and for children who are dealing with grief.
http://www.bereavedfamilies.net/
“A mother is not defined by the number of children you can see, but by the love that she holds in her heart.” – Franchesca Cox
This incredible blog, and virtual art experience was created by a mother who experienced the stillbirth of her son and went on to create this beautiful place of hope and healing. My words can’t do this justice, I encourage all of you to visit and experience this site.
http://carlymarieprojectheal.com/
Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep
My friends learned of this incredible initiative only after they left the hospital, so I want to spread the word because I was deeply moved by what this organization is doing. NILMDTS is a volunteer collective of professional photographers with a wide network who will visit the hospital and take portraits of your baby so you have a keepsake of your beautiful child. They even have resources on their site for medical professionals, with instructions on posing and lighting, in case they aren’t able to send a photographer to your location. Friends and loved ones, I hope you never have to remember that this service exists, but if anyone you love is experiencing still birth, please make them aware of this incredible resource. Many parents can’t bear the idea of a photo in the moment, but nearly all of them are grateful to have captured the memory in hindsight. These beautiful portraits often go on to occupy the space they deserve beside photos of other family members and loved ones. Photographer friends, there is no greater work that you can do.
https://www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org/
GAPPS – The Global Alliance to Prevent Prematurity and Stillbirth, an initiative from Seattle Children’s Hospital produced this beautiful video:
This feature length film starring Minnie Driver is due to be released on the Lifetime Network in Canada on May 17th. The star-studded cast features the likes of Alfred Molina and Kathy Baker and centers on the story of a successful couple who lose their first baby to stillbirth, on of the first times this subject is explored in popular media.
Mothers, and fathers, who have loved so deeply and felt such profound loss, know that our hearts and our hopes are with you on Mother’s Day and every day. I for one, am happy and honoured to listen whenever you want to share stories of your beautiful children.
Great Homeschool Resources
The Internet is the homeschoolers best friend. In our journey in homeschooling I’ve come across several resources that have been a life-saver to us in our classroom. One of my favourite homeschool resources is one that I’m also starting to use in my blogging practice as well. Grammarly is one of the best online editing tools I’ve encountered, and I wanted to share this awesome tool with you. Today, we have a guest post from Grammarly’s own Nikolas Baron, outlining the top 5 ways internet resources can benefit your eager students, whether you are homeschooling or helping with home work.
1. Grammar check programs
Teaching grammar can be difficult, but help is at hand! There are websites available that provide more than the standard, unreliable spell check and autocorrect already installed on your computer. Grammarly is one such service, giving users all the benefits of a virtual online English tutor. Copy and paste your text directly into a box on the site, and the program will run an impressively thorough check, finding problems that Microsoft Word would miss. It highlights errors, but instead of automatically correcting them, it first explains why the highlighted section might be incorrect – a big help for students and teachers alike, as it gives writers the opportunity to learn from their mistakes. The program then offers suggestions and alternatives, so that the student can choose the best possible option based on what they have learned. It’s a useful online support system for anyone needing help with written work.
2. Writing Prompts
Many kids struggle with ideas when it comes to writing creatively. That’s where writing prompt sites are invaluable! They are available for all age groups and ability levels: just do a quick search online, and you’ll find one that’s right for your child. These sites come in many different formats. Some provide sentences starters, some suggest titles and topics, and some give a list of words, characters, or events to include in your story. Others simply provide a series of pictures, giving kids the chance to ‘find’ stories hidden within them. Depending on the site, your child may be able to create their very own story books and print them out or email them to friends and relatives.
3. Blogs
Encourage reluctant writers to start their very own blogs. It’s amazing what the thought of an online audience can do for motivation levels! WordPress is a popular choice among bloggers, and it’s free to sign up. Blogging is a simple way to publish your writing online. How about starting a family blog, where each member of the family can contribute their thoughts and stories? Or let your children have their own individual blogs, where you and other relatives can read what they write and encourage them by leaving comments. Don’t worry about safety – it’s possible for parents to moderate the blog, check what kids are writing about before posts go live, and manually approve comments before children are able to read them.
4. Printables
Many educational sites store vast selections of worksheets–often free–to help children practice writing. These range from basic letter formation (tracing and guided writing) to grammar-based exercises and essay questions. Print out as many as you like and give your kids plenty of practice at writing by hand in addition to all the typing they’re doing!
5. Graphic organizers
These useful online tools are great for kids who struggle with gathering all their ideas together, grouping them into paragraphs, and writing a story or essay that flows naturally. Graphic organizers provide a simple way for students to enter all the information they’re planning to use and plan a well-structured piece of writing. These are just a few examples–there are more online writing tools available than would be possible to list in a short post like this. Mix up your approach, take advantage of what’s available, and make writing a fun, interesting activity for kids of all ages!
Nikolas Baron discovered his love for the written word in Elementary School, where he started spending his afternoons sprawled across the living room floor devouring one Marc Brown children’s novel after the other and writing short stories about daring pirate adventures. After acquiring some experience in various marketing, business development, and hiring roles at internet startups in a few different countries, he decided to re-unite his professional life with his childhood passions by joining Grammarly’s marketing team in San Francisco. He has the pleasure of being tasked with talking to writers, bloggers, teachers, and others about how they use Grammarly’s online proofreading application to improve their writing. His free time is spent biking, traveling, and reading.
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