Literally tongue tied

A beautiful handwritten gift from my talented intern, Didi.

Each of my newborns have had their own little hurdles to overcome after their births. For Cohen it was a pulled muscle in his neck, care of his forceps delivery, which left him unable to turn his head to one side. This resulted in a gradually worsening flat spot on his head, which was corrected with physio and sleep positioning. For Emerson, it was the discovery of a small hole in her heart on day three after her birth. Which of course left me a weeping heap of hormones and worry, until several tests revealed that it was not life threatening, and would more than likely close off with time. For our dear little Oscar it has been a tongue tie, detected by the pediatrician at his examination on day two, prior to our discharge from hospital. A 'text book case', as indicated by a heart shaped tongue and a shortened frenulum. The Doctor seemed unconcerned, produced some paper work with information and left it in our hands. He explaining that while once it had been routine to snip a tongue tie, it was rather more controversial now, and many Doctors took a hands off, wait and see approach, unless the tie affected breastfeeding.

As a third time Mama, who is no stranger to breastfeeding, I had known something was different with feeding Oscar. The pinching pain was getting stronger with each feed, my damaged nipples worsening. He seemed to suck with his jaw rather than his tongue and fell asleep exhausted after ten minutes, and woke to feed hourly. By the next day I had done my research and decided to have the tie snipped. I asked my Instagram community for words of wisdom from those who had been there before me, and was surprised and comforted by the response. With added confidence I booked the appointment with the midwife clinic we had been referred to, and took my three day old baby to see them.

It really was all over in a minute. Oscar's third level tie needed only the tiniest snip; his tongue didn't bleed and he didn't cry. Immediately he could touch his tongue to the roof of his open mouth, which he hadn't been able to do previously. During his first feed after the snip he began trying to suck with his tongue, not his jaw, and his ear moved during his feed for the first time. He has since been relearning how to feed, though I have needed to be vigilant to ensure that he attaches correctly and doesn't lapse in to old habits. 

Since the procedure, Oscar has been feeding off both sides and sleeping for over four hours at a time. I no longer dread feeding him. I call that a win.

I am so grateful to all the Mama's who shared their stories with me on Instagram and made a confusing decision easier for me. Perhaps in writing this I will be able to do the same for another Mama.

Time for more baby cuddles and baby gazing.

Attachment Parenting Seminar with Dr Sears

It'a a wonderful feeling to be a part of a community. Be it online, in your neighborhood, or sitting in a room full of like minded people. Yesterday I felt a part of a parenting community as I listened to Dr William Sears talking at a seminar about attachment parenting. He spoke with warmth and humor, sharing his insights and anecdotes as a pediatrician of forty years and father of eight. In the process he reinforced and encouraged what I am practicing as a parent. 

He began by defining the role of parenting as that of "giving your children the tools to succeed in life." As a young father and doctor he was interested in studying what worked for "most parents, most of the time." After years of observing what "smart" Mums and Dads did and how their babies turned out, he found that parents of connected children followed most of the Baby B's - birth bonding, breastfeeding, babywearing, bed sharing/ bedding close to baby, believe baby's cries, beware of baby trainers and balance. (The 'beware baby trainers' was in response to a rise in incidents he witnessed of a 'failure to thrive,' after parents were given advice about scheduling feeding or ignoring crying, which resulted in dehydrated, undernourished or disconnected babies.) This list is at the core of attachment parenting, though not all attachment parents do, or are able, to practice everything on this list. (For instance decisions about birth bonding or breastfeeding can be taken away by health issues, or some families may choose not to bed share. We all do what is right for us, though it may not be right for everyone.)

When Dr Sears discussed balance and preventing Mothers from burning out while trying to be the best Mother they can, he spoke of his own wife's struggle to fit in a shower each day when she felt her babies had constantly needed her. At which time he left a gentle reminder on a sign in the bathroom that read: Each day what our baby needs most is a happy, rested Mother. (Something we could all do with being reminded of at times!)

Dr Sears talked about the early years of a child's life as being a long term investment. That by forming caring attachments with our children and comforting them when they cry, we are creating the blueprint for their future relationships. Patterns of association are formed in their brains - I cried, I was comforted; I was hurt, I was comforted. Because this becomes wired in to their brains they will naturally help when others are hurt. By responding to situations such as hitting by asking the child, "how would you feel if Jimmy hit you," you are helping them to learn empathy. He spoke of the science behind attachment parenting and the studies that have shown that attachment parented babies are smarter. Apparently each day a baby may make 10,000 new connections in their brains, while high touch, attached babies make more. So each time you hold, feed or nurture your baby you are helping them make more brain connections.

I had to laugh, he introduced the slide below by saying, "children can be annoying, well our children, maybe not yours." From the laughter in the rest of the room I could tell I wasn't alone. Below is his number one parenting tip. "If I were a child how would I want my Mother/Father to act." This works particularly well as a discipline tip. As Sears said, "before you yell, stop and imagine - if I were a child how would I want my parent to act - if you ask yourself this you will always get it right." He also spoke about a Mothers ability to give a child a look that is at once "firm, stern and loving, that ends with an I love you smile," which lets a child know that their actions are inappropriate. Again I laughed in recognition. I'm quite sure I have that look, as does my Mother.

Martha, Bills wife of 47 years, also spoke. She gave another tip on disciplining small children. Rather than using "No", "Uh-uhh", or a smack on the hand when they touch something they shouldn't, use the phrase "Not for Johnny." The repetition of this phrase will gently teach them and they will soon learn not to touch.

At the close of the talk Sears discussed his definition of success as being, "the number of people whose lives are better because of what you did." This definition works equally well to assess our job as a parent - given we are raising the mothers and fathers of the next generation, as well as Dr Sears contribution to our knowledge by way of his studies and publications - his books proving invaluable to so many.

Questions were taken from the audience which inspired new discussion with Bill and Martha. A few points that stood out for me included Bill's belief that the three things a Doctor should really never advise a mother on were "how long to breastfeed for, should they let their baby cry, and should they feed at night." Those are questions that only you can answer for yourself, though you don't need to make them alone. This is where the importance of community comes in. Support groups of like minded people can help you answer these questions, while, as Martha pointed out, complaining to someone who disagrees with your parenting style leaves you open for criticism. These support communities - be they ABA, mothers group, online forums etc. - are needed because, to quote Martha, "it was never designed to be a Mum and a baby alone in a room somewhere."

There is so much more I could write. He also touched on issues of sleeping, socialisation, schooling, work and Grandparents. I took much away with me from the seminar. As I said, I felt he reinforced and encouraged my parenting practices. No matter how we parent though I think we can all agree, it takes a village to raise a child.

Baby knits Inspiration

L-R: Playful Stripes, Seamless Yoked Baby Sweater, Camilla Babe,
Ella Funt, Immie Tee, In threes,
Maile, Speckle, Drops Design.

So many sweet baby knits, so little time. Knitters, I know you understand. 

And a baby in a hand knit sweater? Perfect indeed.

So, I just had to buy some more wool yesterday...

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Shawl Inspiration. 

Cardigan Inspiration.

Emerson's birth story

Every journey to motherhood presents different challenges, and some much more difficult than my own. This is my attempt to document my story nonetheless, a record for myself and my children, to be shared with other woman and mothers in the tradition of birth stories.

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I have learnt much since becoming a mother. Slowly discovering for myself experiences that have been repeated through the ages, connecting all mothers. I discovered a type of love which I'd not yet experienced. A powerful, connected, protective, nurturing love that is as intense as it is different for each child. I learnt that their births would be the single most important days of my life and that nothing could compare to them. I felt the passage of time change, marked forever by their growth and milestones. I found that part of loving so deeply meant feeling pain just as deeply, feeling their pain. And I'm still learning.

One thing I didn't realise was how difficult and winding our journey to having a family would be. Dave and I met, fell in love, brought a house and got married young and then went travelling. Our notions of having a family seemed distant and indistinct until I had to have an ovary and Fallopian tube removed due to an abscess, and my ability to ever conceive was brought into question. It was something we had taken for granted and it had been brought into sharp focus. The irony was that after trying so long not to fall pregnant, we would end up trying even harder and go through so much more in order to fall pregnant. It was a scary, emotional and difficult time which resulted in me suffering from anxiety.

After first suffering a miscarriage, we conceived Cohen and with his birth became a family, and I a mother. His 36 hour labor resulted in a third degree tear and abdominal muscle separation. Cohen was 9 pound 4, but had breathing difficulties and was taken to special care. The forceps used to deliver him strained a muscle in his neck that resulted in him needing physio. It was a traumatic experience for both of us. My birth plan resembled my birth in few ways. But I had my baby boy and all our efforts were rewarded.

After twelve months and mindful of my missing ovary, we tried again to conceive and in time learnt instead of my diagnosis of Graves disease, which inhibited my ability to fall pregnant. After months of trying to control my thyroid levels with medication that I became allergic to, months of specialist appointments and blood tests, months feeling ill, we undertook the more extreme measure of having radio-iodine treatment and destroying my thyroid function forever. Another daunting undertaking. But one which allowed us, with the passage of time, the green light to once again try to conceive.

As soon as the specialist gave us their consent we decided to 'try without trying'. No calenders, no discussions, life would move on and time would tell. We sold our house, moved in with family, starting looking for a new nest to renovate and call our family home and one day two blue lines come up in the windows of a pregnancy test. We were ecstatic and continued with our plans with added meaning.

As in my previous pregnancy, the thought of miscarriage was a daily companion. Through days of lethargy, mornings and nights of nausea, I crossed each finger and counted down each day until we reached thirteen weeks. Next I counted the weeks until the baby would be viable to live outside the womb should it be born premature. In the meantime my thyroid astonished us, and the specialists, by recovering enough from the radio-iodine treatment to once again become over active. And thus the potential to cause problems with the pregnancy, (hinted at back here in December,) from which point baby and I were closely monitored for possible complications.

But each week the baby grew bigger and stronger. Each week I saw doctors, specialists, the high risk team at the hospital and underwent fortnightly scans. And at 35 weeks the doctors conferred and offered me an elective cesarean. The baby was continually measuring in the 98th percentile and could be expected to weigh 9 to 10 pounds at full term, which, given my birthing history, placed me high in the risk factor of having a fourth degree tear should I birth vaginally.

Until this point I hadn't realised what it meant to me to birth this baby naturally. For thirty five weeks I had unintentionally focused on this birth being a sort of saving grace for my first birth. That I would be more prepared, more relaxed, ride out the contractions instead of fighting them and this time my body would not fail me. I would have the birth I had so wanted the first time. I hadn't realised how much I had invested emotionally in a natural birth. But after discussing my options with midwives and specialists the decision was made, and I would not be birthing naturally. I felt informed and confidant about my decision, but also heartbroken. My cesarean was booked and I went home and awaited the days and wondered if my baby would wait the scheduled 39 weeks and 2 days or decide to come early.

The days wound down until my sister was installed in my house as babysitter, my bag was packed in the car and my preparations ready for the scheduled early morning surgery. I was equally anxious and excited. Fearful of the surgery, but oh so ready to meet our baby and find out the sex. It took me a long while to fall asleep that Sunday night and my dreams were filled with hospital rooms and babies.

The hours before the surgery were mercilessly few. The staff were warm but through during the preparations, doing their best to ease my nerves and keep me focused on how soon I would have my baby in my arms. Things moved quickly. Cap and gown, hospital bed, wheeled into theater, spinal block applied and preparations for surgery made. Dave rejoined me as the first incision was being made. Reflected in the angle of the theater light overhead, I was able to see the surgery as it took place. And I, who is not usually one for such things, was riveted to the reflection. I found I was not at all uneasy, but rather a strange disassociation occurred between my body and brain. While I felt pressure, there was no pain and my brain tried hard to reconcile the feelings and the image above and could not.

In this way I watched as my babies head appeared, before a shadow was cast over the reflection and moments later the surgeon was holding our baby up above the screen between us. Dave, seated beside me, saw what I could not and said, "You've got your girl, baby." Relief, joy, excitement, release - the tears flowed freely from my eyes, even as she was brought to me to hold for the first time. My beautiful girl. Our beautiful Emerson. Peering into her Mamas eyes. Love.

One thing, through all of this, that has been incredibly distressing for me has been that both of my parents have chosen not to have contact with me since my sisters wedding five months ago. My mothers absence during my pregnancy has been particularly noticeable, especially given that my pregnancy with Cohen brought us closer together. That relationship I missed no more so than on the third day after her birth when Emerson was diagnosed with jaundice and a heart murmur. Tired and hormonal, in pain and concerned for my baby, I felt strongly the need for my mother.

I don't know what I could have done for her to continue in this way or ignore the birth of her grand daughter. There are many things I have learnt as a mother, but this is not one of them. Surely there is nothing Cohen or Emerson could do or say that would make me turn my back on them indefinitely? Despite trying to make contact with her, she has not as yet attempted to make contact with me or my sister these past five months. I've been operating in limbo, unsure as to what is happening or how she feels. As a result I felt unable to even call her with the news of Emerson's birth. I've no idea what the future holds for this relationship.

Thankfully the jaundice is slowly clearing without needing intervention and the heart murmur is being monitored. It may be a result a valve not closing completely after her birth when she transitioned from breathing liquid to air, or as a hangover from my thyroid medication crossing the placenta. She will be monitored at our follow up appointments.

Emerson is otherwise healthy and happy. She loves her sleep, has had no trouble breastfeeding and has a doting big brother. Cohen is in awe of her and has adjusted beautifully. All our subtle efforts to prepare him these past several months seem to have been rewarded. He is now constantly patting her with his 'gentle hands', or staring at her and asking us questions. He sits down on the couch and asks for a cuddle in his toddler way, "Emcen sit here please." He helped give her her first bath, elbowing Daddy out of the way in order to wash her (and cover her head in bubbles.) Cohen has discovered my childhood doll and has taken to changing it's nappy and clothing when I'm with Emerson.

One thing that I have learnt as a mother is that you have to be adaptable. Things rarely seem to go to plan, for me at least. But the reward is always more meaningful for the struggles you undertook. As they say, 'nothing worth having comes easily.' Life goes on and we are enjoying our family of four.

Welcome, my darling Emerson. We've been waiting for you for such a long time and we are so glad you are finally here. I wouldn't change a thing.

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Savoring every beautiful, sleepy, milk filled moment.

Many thanks for your warm welcoming of Emerson. I hope to share her birth story with you soon.

And all my love to my twin Fiona, who has been sister, friend, Aunty, Grandmother and so much more to my little family. She is beyond compare, and our lives would be so much poorer without her love, support, joy and thoughtfulness. xx

Welcoming

Our beautiful baby girl,

Emerson Noni Lowry.

Born Monday, 27th Februrary 2012, at 8.56am. 8 pound 11 ounces. Looking just like her brother and bringing tears of joy to her Mama.

We are now home - falling in love, kissing little cheeks, tickling little toes and cherishing our first days as a family of four.

More soon.