Mary and John Growing Like Weeds

"The Grandparents' Report"
(more information than non-family members will probably care about!)


Mary and John had their delinquent well-child checks this week. I judged that they looked perfectly well to me, so I hadn't taken either in for nearly a year and a half (except for sick visits).

John: 33 pounds (45th percentile) and three feet two inches (32nd percentile).

Mary: 26 pounds 6 ounces (77th percentile) and two feet eight inches (60th percentile).

We ended up visiting a dermatologist the same day as our family doctor. Mary has an unhealed lesion that has been on the top of her foot for six weeks, and I'd taken her in for it twice. It started as a simple, tiny abrasion from her shoe, but then it never healed and just got bigger and angrier. Both doctors said it wasn't (yet) infected, but the recommended hydrocortisone wasn't helping it. The dermatologist said to keep a bandage on it at all times so it wouldn't rub up against anything (I'd been letting her go barefoot virtually all the time so shoes wouldn't rub on it and because "dry healing" is generally more efficacious than "wet healing") and to put on an antifungal twice daily (to prevent fungus from setting in). In two days of this treatment, the quarter-sized lesion has healed more than in six weeks prior.

Also, remember that mystery rash that never turned into chicken pox? She still had the rash three weeks later, so the family doctor sent us to that dermatologist. He walked in and airily diagnosed, "Oh, molloscum cantagiosum." My heart sunk. Many of the mothers in my La Leche League chapter have been battling molloscum for a long time--some for months, even a year, I heard. But I think some of them were avoiding the standard treatment--that I opted for immediately--of having cryotherapy done to a half dozen of the pox, which is supposed to "wake up" the immune system, which then fights off the remainder of the rash. As a virus, of course, it is always in the body, but the immune system can fight the symptoms. Mary was such a trooper, letting out a few angry cries at the freezing, but then declining to comfort nurse because she insisted on getting off my lamp to stomp around the room angrily for a few seconds before she was back to all smiles. I do hope the cryotherapy works: if one reads the Internet, there is much dramatic debate about how to treat molloscum and the fact that, being a virus with an extremely variable life, it could disappear at any time, it is nigh impossible to judge the efficacy of any given treatment (meaning, the pox might have been just about ready to disappear anyway).

Now I don't know how much to quarantine Mary during what the dermatologist hoped would be about three weeks before the pox are gone. On one hand, the numbers are ugly: The incubation period is two to seven weeks, any individual pox can last two to four months, and a whole "case" can last six to twelve months. And it is "highly contagious" (hence contagiosum). But very, very few women are stay-at-home moms, so many children are walking around with molloscum (it seems quite common, at least around here), spreading it at their daycare centers, schools, pools--and LLL meetings! :) The vast majority of children with molloscum are certainly not being quarantined, but what that means for me, I just don't know. My children are not enrolled in any programs, but we still have some social events, guests coming over, my next LLL meeting (and I really should go, since I'm a leader), and church events.

Mary is significantly along the way to being potty trained. Because I've done casual elimination communication since she was three months old, she has very rarely done more than pee in her diapers since she was half a year old. She tells me she needs to go and I take her to a potty (including the big potty). Or, she'll even just take herself without telling me, as I discovered her this morning. I'm thrilled to see her so close to being done with diapers at only 18 months old! We'll see if I can put in the extra effort to finish her learning process in the next six months or so.

Meanwhile, Mary has begun that really neat language phase of asking what things are called. I think that most children pick up the word "that" and use it to ask "That? That? That?" as they point here and there. Mary has decided to use the word "This?" and points to everything within her eyesight, asking, "This?" I think it is so neat to see inside their expanding toddler brains, to see that once Mary had the tool to ask for the name of things, she wants to know the names of everything! It is its own kind of "Helen Keller moment."

She has been saying sentences, such as "I'll get it" and "I did it," for a few months now. However, I've rather considered them words, that maybe she doesn't know are sentences ("Ididit!"). But maybe I'm not giving enough credit because she always says the proper pronoun, even though I say of her that "Mary" or "she" did it or I say to her "You did it." And now Mary has begun saying other baby sentences, combining "I" with other verbs (like, "I slipped") and I think those have to count as sentences. What fun for me to watch!

Meanwhile, John is in a "happy helper phase" and--boy!--does he like to help! He asks to help with nearly everything and, even though it slows me down considerably, I'm trying to take advantage of the phase and let him help, teaching him how to do things. The more he is helping me (and, believe me, his three-year-old [in]competency tries my patience), the less he is watching TV or getting into toy squabbles with his sister, so I figure it is the duty of my vocation and I'd better cheerfully say, "Sure, honey, you can help me . . ."

Also, John is asking the most interesting questions on loftier subjects these days. Last night as I was lying down with the two littles, John asked in the dark, "Mama, is God happy?" I was confused, said yes, but asked what he meant. He said, "Is God happy in Heaven?" I said that yes, he was definitely happy in Heaven, and we hope that we can become saints so we can be in Heaven with him too. John said, "Okay, I just wanted to make sure that God is happy." That led to a discussion about saints (as we've been studying the saint of the day) and John insisted that one has to be a grown-up to be a saint. I promised that children can be saints and said we'd get out our books and look up some children saints today. I love my job! (And thank you, Chris, for working so that this can be my job!)

Delivering Mail and the Pox

Today was a hectic day! Mary woke up with a 100-degree fever that rose to 104 at its peak. She seemed cheerful for the first couple of hours, so I wasn't sure what was going on and I went about my day.

While going through the steps of baking bread, I did a craft project with John, creating a make believe mail box. This proved to be a fantastic project! My part of taping and cutting the box, then covering it with white paper took all of 10 minutes. Then I let John decorate it.

John spent much of the rest of the day enthusiastically playing mail man! I gave him some junk mail, some slips of paper, and some free cards I've received from charities seeking donations. John absolutely loves playing mail man and spent all day making up stories about the letters, what they were about, and who they were to or from.

It was a good thing John had something to occupy him because Mary became very ill and I was so busy taking care of her. I realized she had broken out in spots the day before (yes, the day we went to a party with 25 other children), which had now extended from a inconspicuous area on her arm, to both arms, both legs, and her stomach. She had the high fever and vomited twice. So I took her into the doctor's office and she was diagnosed with "very likely chicken pox." The little girl has been so miserable today, so clingy, exhausted and yet unable to fall asleep. She just wants to nurse in my arms and remain in a relaxed state without ever falling asleep. As of this blog post, she's been awake for 15 hours, utterly sick, and with only one 45-minute nap!

We should know for sure within one to two days if Mary has chicken pox or "some other viral rash with fever" because her spots will follow a typical course of progress if they are varicella.

You Know You're a Mom

You know you're a tired mom when you're nearly giddy with excitement at the prospect of leaving the kids with Daddy this afternoon to go to a routine physical exam . . . because with the drive each way, waiting in the lobby, and being poked and prodded by a doctor, you might get nearly three hours of time free of incessant children's requests, demands, toy squabbles, and tantrums!

Gratitude

I am grateful.

I am grateful for washers and driers, that I don't have to access coin-operated machines off site, that I have strong machines in my home that can wash and dry unceasingly all day.

I am grateful for being able to pick up a telephone and call a doctor on call.

I am grateful for a clean and well-staffed hospital emergency room a half mile from my house.

I am grateful for health insurance.

I am grateful for strong modern medicines, even though it looks like we probably won't need them at this point.

I am grateful for bleach, lots of bleach.

I am grateful that I don't work outside the home so I can go into 'viral combat mode' and operate on very little sleep for days without the added stress of having an employer.

I am grateful for such a helpful husband, even when he's sick too.

I am grateful for a clean water supply and a whole variety of electrolyte-replacing drinks.

Especially in light of the current destruction in Haiti splashed across our television screens, I'm so aware that the kind of gastroenteritis sweeping through our house is what actually kills people. And while at some moments we might feel that we wish we were dead, we really have it pretty easy. Thank God. I am grateful.

Home from the Ophthalmologist

We are home from seeing a pediatric ophthalmologist as I wanted to get to the bottom of this ridiculousness. The summary is that it is very likely we initially had bacterial conjunctivitis, that cleared up, and now we have viral conjunctivitis. In the first case, John got it first, then Mary, then me. Then John got the second round, Mary came down with it a few days later, and this morning I woke up with telltale sharp pain around my orbits, so I think I might be getting it too. The doctor could have done an eye culture, but did not consider it worth it. If this is viral, it can last two weeks (which would mean John has about a week left and Mary almost two weeks left).

Loads of fun!

Now let's just hope our horrible colds end soon.

Saturday in Washington D.C.

Saturday was a wonderful example of how parenthood reduces one's standards regarding productivity and sticking to one's well made plans. On Friday night, John's conjunctivitis returned after about four days of being clear; his eyes had already been clear when Mary and I went to the doctor, so he'd never been put on antibiotics. Here we were, stuck in D.C. on a weekend, so I decided to use the topical antibiotics for Mary and me on John, then take us all back to our family doctor on Monday. Meanwhile, we gave him steam baths to wipe off his eyes, used Purell on his hands often, and hoped for the best.

All this time, I'd been developing a sinus infection. I'd never had one before, so I kept thinking I was fighting one off. In retrospect, I already had a sinus infection before we even got to D.C. This is a miserable condition!

Our goals on Saturday were pretty modest and very achievable, we thought. We wanted to visit the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, walk up to the Washington Monument and the White House, let the kids nap in the hotel, then visit Mount Vernon.

John really enjoyed the Natural History Museum, but we were walking through only a couple of floors of it at breakneck speed: essentially at the speed of a three-year-old's attention span.

There are no restaurants around the Museum, it was lunchtime, and we were hungry, so we ate at the Museum cafe, where the food was good but shockingly expensive. Then we walked back to the car and just trying to switch parking spots and move around D.C. was its own comedy of errors. By the time we drove the short blocks to the Washington Monument, the kids were fast asleep, so we decided to let them nap in the car and we'd drive to Mount Vernon, tacking on some scenic driving time.

But when we got to the Mount Vernon parking lot and John woke up, his eyes were completely glued shut again and he was weeping with misery. We knew we couldn't keep dragging him around anymore and I remembered a recommendation I'd received for the CVS pharmacy Minute Clinics (thanks, Jamie!). We used my iPhone to search for one and found one seven miles away! We drove straight there and were seen within five minutes. John received a prescription of systemic antibiotics for his conjunctivitis and I received a prescription of systemic antibiotics for my sinus infection. We are such fans of the excellent service we received at the Minute Clinic!

We decided to drive the seven miles back to Mount Vernon to visit it while our prescriptions were being filled. We got there, unloaded the kids, walked up to the gate, and discovered it had closed at 4:00 instead of 5:30. So, we were out of luck. We drove back to the CVS, got our prescriptions, then began looking around for a restaurant for an early dinner. We had seen what looked like a really neat place right next to the CVS, but we decided to search for somewhere more in historic Alexandria. We were driving around, searching with the iPhone for family dining in Alexandria, and we kept reading good reviews of the very restaurant right next to the CVS!

So, back we drove to the CVS and ate dinner at the Greek restaurant next door (where John recognized the Parthenon).

We left the restaurant when the kids were melting down with fatigue, even though it was only about 6:00 p.m. Back at the hotel, the crying little ones went to sleep fast.

Chris and I really chuckled about how we got so few of our goals accomplished (seeing only the museum), the day was chaotic, and yet we thought it went "pretty well" and was fun. But just a couple of years ago, maybe even one year ago, such a thwarted day would have made both of us really upset and resentful. Parenthood is so good for developing virtues, even if the process is quite painful at times!

Big Girl

When Mary and I went to the doctor's office yesterday to get antibiotic eye drops, I had her measured. At 14 months she weighs 25 pounds and is 31 inches tall, which is almost the 90th percentile in weight and 75th percentile in height. My big, healthy girl! John was never small, but Mary is decidedly bigger at the same ages. At this age, John was about 22 pounds and 30 inches, which is even smaller percentage-wise for a boy.

Latest Heights and Weights

Last Wednesday the children received some vaccinations. For poor John, it was the first time he remembered in advance what a "shot" is and what "it will hurt for a moment" means. He quietly hid behind the examining table so I had to get him and put him on my lap for the shot, and then he cried for about two minutes. Thankfully, a lizard sticker and the idea that he could watch Mary get her shot (she cried only about three seconds) calmed him down.

Then little John had what felt to me like a big reaction to the vaccination, although it certainly fell within "normal." For about 48 hours he had a fever, was sleeping a lot extra, and was cranky. Also, he went almost entirely off of food and only just now is starting to eat more. I won't make the mistake again of scheduling vaccinations when Chris is out of town for seven days and I am struggling as it is without a sick child!



John:


Height: 36 inches

Weight: 29 lbs 8 oz

Mary:


Height: 28 inches

Weight: 19 lbs 8 oz

Gaining Weight Like a Champ

We took John to his doctor yesterday (turns out his ouchies were just eczema) and, while we were there, had Mary weighed. Her "unofficial" weight (because I kept her diaper and gown on) was 10 lbs 15 oz!

11/12/08 Mary born: 8 lbs 9 oz, 21-1/8 inches
11/19/08 8 lbs 10 oz
11/26/08 9 lbs 4 oz
12/09/08 10 lbs 15 oz (with diaper and gown)

That is a gain of something just shy of 27 ounces in 13 days, which is almost two ounces per day! If I'm doing my math right, her weight has increased by 27% in four weeks, which blows my mind. Here is our roly poly rosebud herself:

Unfortunately, this rapid weight gain is probably yet one more sign of too much milk. Just like John experienced as an infant, Mary is showing signs of reflux from my milk overproduction. Having been through this before and received so much help from La Leche League leaders and a lactation consultant, I know what to do and am working through the tactics. Still, it's a hassle for me and a pain (literally) for Mary, poor little bugger.

Well-Baby Check

Today John had a well-baby check because he hadn't been to the doctor in about five months, I had some questions, and I wanted to establish a relationship with a doctor in our new city before some emergency of John getting sick. I asked around with the right people and got a recommendation for someone who turned out to be a friendly, very like-minded kind of family physician.

Anyway, John weighs 24 pounds 3 ounces (25th percentile) and is 31" tall (40th percentile). His big head remains in the 80th percentile. This was the first time his height and weight were taken standing on the scale like a Real Big Boy. No more baby scale for him! Of course, I was a little alarmed about John's percentiles because they continue to drop, but the doctor reassured me up and down (as did John's last doctor) that growth slows dramatically in the second year, John is still gaining weight and height every month, and he's "obviously so healthy!"

The doctor wasn't really sure what to call this well-baby check since it didn't fall into the Very Official schedule of the 15-month or 18-month check, but John (16-1/2 mos.) has already surpassed all of the developmental milestones they look for at 18 months.

My Jogging Partner

My bundled-up jogging partner this morning:

For the 78th time since giving birth to John, I'm trying to rally myself to commit to a consistent exercise regime. I thought that having a bit of public accountability via this blog might help me with the effort this time. I'm not trying to become a beauty queen or an athlete--hardly!--I just want to be healthier. I recently got some numbers back from a doctor's appointment and they weren't great. My cholesterol is a bit high (although that is normal for nursing mothers), my blood sugar numbers are high (probably because of my vice of constant eating of sweets), and, while my weight is reasonable, my BMI is at the upper cusp of "normal" and my body fat percentage is unhealthy. (In fact, to my horror, according to the American Council on Exercise guidelines, my body fat percentage is obese.)

I think it is important to decrease my fat, increase my muscle mass, lower my sugars, and improve my cardiovascular health. Some general fitness--even walking a couple of miles daily--is so much better for pregnant women and greatly cuts down on C-sections. As I hope to go through more pregnancies, if it is God's will, I want to avoid getting more and more unhealthy with each one as I pack on more fat and become more sedentary.

So, those are my reasons to start exercising consistently. Now, let me have some fun and list the reasons why I hate it and don't want to do so! I have brainstormed how I can build an exercise routine within the duties of my vocation and it's tough, as every mother knows. I have to create a routine that I can do without any assistance from Chris because of the travel demands of his job. I would much prefer to jog inside on my treadmill, but I cannot figure out how to do that while monitoring John safely and his naps are far too unpredictable for me to jog while he's asleep (he might wake four times during a 1-2 hour nap, if you get the picture). Those who know me will know that I'm not interested in using a fitness center and putting John in the center's daycare. After much thinking, I am left with the only viable option being to jog outdoors with John in his jogging stroller.

Reasons Why I Hate Jogging Outdoors (in no particular order):

1. I am a wimp about bad weather (i.e., too cold, too hot, windy, rainy).

2. The treadmill encourages me to maintain a rapid heart rate, but when outdoors by myself I repeatedly slip into walking slowly instead of jogging briskly.

3. I am embarrassed to exercise in front of other people (the sin of pride).

4. Now I have to buy some cold-weather exercise clothing (sweat pants and such) because all my exercise clothing is for my temperature-controlled home.

5. The streets beyond our neighborhood are dangerous and unfit for pedestrians, so I am limited to staying within my neighborhood, which is boring. Also the streets in the neighborhood are hilly (including one we call "cardiac hill"), which is more difficult. To get beyond the neighborhood for a change of scenery means hauling John and the stroller somewhere in the van, which is a hassle.

6. I'd much rather pass the time jogging while watching television indoors than in the dull silence and same scenery of my neighborhood.

7. Exercising means I have to change my whole routine of getting ready (showered, dressed, hair, makeup) and either do things twice or forgo getting pretty first thing in the morning or some combination of the two. Whatever I do, it will be a hassle.

8. Oh, I know I have more reasons than this. I thought of more than this list while jogging this morning! Maybe I'll edit this post and add in more as I remember them.

I did succeed in jog-walking briskly probably 2-2.5 miles this morning. Afterward I did some stretches and sit-ups. Apparently John has never watched me do sit-ups because he found Mama to be absolutely hilarious. He would laugh at me, then fling his body onto mine (while I was doing the sit-ups) like he was a World Wide Wrestler. Then if I stopped doing sit-ups, he'd start crouching up and down in excitement, asking me to do them again, just so that he could jump on me again . . . . I'll admit, it did make doing sit-ups more fun!

Would any other moms out there like to contribute their creative reasons for why they hate exercise and it is too inconvenient? We can all have a whine fest together!

EDIT: I see now that what I really need is a Hawaii Chair to help me exercise while sitting down.

New York Report

We are home safe from New York!

Chris was already in New York on business, and John and I flew up Wednesday evening. The flight was hairier than usual. I felt strangely flustered throughout the whole thing, which was so odd, considering I've traveled all over the world! First, I left the house and drove five minutes before realizing that I'd forgotten to leave food for the cats, so turned around to rectify the situation. I got back on the road and the trip took a whole hour instead of the 45 minutes I'd thought. I parked at one of those "park and fly" places near the airport and felt pressured as the bus waited for me. The driver saw me taking extra time because I was loading a baby, but she didn't do anything to help. Finally, a nice older gentleman--a customer--got off the bus to help me, which then got the bus driver scrambling. Anyway, because I felt flustered, I totally forgot to bring John's car seat with me! I called Chris from the airport and, after considering different options, we decided that Chris would simply buy a new car seat in New York before picking me up at the White Plains airport. I was so flustered while at the airport that I kept being overwhelmed by a sickening feeling that I'd forgotten John somewhere, so I'd gasp and look down at my chest only to see John snug in his Ergo. I wondered if that is how it feels to have some forms of obsessive-compulsive disorder!

The security lines were the longest I'd ever seen at the Atlanta airport, so I would have nearly missed my plane had it not been delayed 90 minutes due to terrible weather all along the East Coast. To top it all off, when I arrived, the gate agent told me that the plane had been oversold. As she had me stand there for 30 minutes, hoping to get a seat, you can imagine the speech I was writing in my head about how my son had surgery in the morning and I had purchased my ticket two weeks ago and we were not going to be the ones to suffer because of the airline's despicable practice of selling more product than it has to offer. Ultimately, I got my seat without having to deliver my speech.

Thankfully through all the chaos of four delayed flights stacked up at my gate, John is now old enough that he really enjoyed sitting at the gate window and watching the planes and trucks on the tarmac. Also, John got to see a doggy (a seeing-eye dog) and a kitty--of sorts. You see, John has a wild animals book with several big cats in it. I point to the leopard and say, "That's a leopard! He's a kind of kitty." At the gate, John began pointing and saying loudly, "Kitty! Kitty!" He had spotted a woman carrying a faux fur leopard-print coat! John made the same observation about another fur coat at the airport two days later. What a smart boy!

John became very scared when we took off because he was watching out the airplane window. He's never been scared before and I think it was because he has enough cognitive development now to be disoriented by the sudden changing speed and size of the things he was watching out the window. I had to close the window to get him to stop screaming in fear.

The flight itself was fine--John was moderately fussy--until the end when it got really scary. For the last 25 minutes, I've never felt such turbulence in my life. I was so scared that I was audibly praying nonstop Hail Marys till we landed and I didn't care who thought I was crazy. I really thought I might (throw up, then) die!

When we landed, John was actually asleep, so I waited until everyone got off the plane to wake him. The small plane had parked on the tarmac and, without my line of ducklings to follow, I was disoriented in the pitch dark and pouring rain--the air so cold that there was snow stacked on the ground. I bundled John in a blanket and just started waddling as fast as was safe across the icy tarmac, calling out through the rain to any worker walking by, "Where's the door?! Where's the door?!" Obviously, I finally found my way indoors and Chris picked us up.

Here is a photo from Wednesday morning, on our way to breakfast. Chris had parked by this wonderful wall of icicles.

John at breakfast:
Showing us his nose. He always squinches his nose when he points to it.


Many, but not all of you, heard from me that John was finally diagnosed with a Type 4 Posterior Tongue Tie and a too-tight superior labial frenum. This explains our many, painful nursing difficulties in the early months, John's earlier reflux, and his almost total inability to swallow solids. The correction is a simple frenectomy, but so few doctors these days know how to diagnose and then properly correct a posterior tongue tie that we decided to fly to New York to see two experts.

John in the waiting room of the doctor's office:

After two weeks of a serious case of nerves about John's upcoming procedure, I was graced by God with great calmness during the actual event. John was given Versed to calm him and prophylactic acetaminophen, numbing gel, and two shots of Novocaine before the doctor used a laser to revise the two too-tight frenums. For the three-minute procedure, I sat back in a dental chair holding John along my body with Chris at our feet. John was nursing within ten seconds of the laser being turned off and it took ten or fifteen minutes to calm him down from being restrained.

All was well and we left with doctor's instructions to follow John's lead concerning eating solids. Food would not further harm the wound, but might make him sore, in which case John would let us know. Chris and I stopped to grab some lunch to eat in the car so we could avoid dragging John into a restaurant. It was only 30 minutes after the procedure when John began vigorously making the sign for EAT at me because he wanted some of the pepperoni off my pizza. I was nervous and did not want to give him such a food so soon! But he kept signing and the doctor had said it was okay to try, so I let John eat.

And eat he did! In one sitting, John ate three slices of pepperoni, two bites of cheese, and two bites of soft cookie! He has never eaten like that in his little life! Normally when he "eats" pepperoni, for example, he tears it into a zillion small bits, chews on them, and spits them out. This time he ate each slice by taking large bites--four per slice--and chewing them well, then swallowing. Here is a photo of our sweet boy eating and you can see that he's still ever so slightly dopey from the Versed:

After his feast, John fell asleep for a much-deserved nap:

Wednesday night Chris had to fly on to his next (two) cities for business, so John and I managed on our own that night. He was irritable and fussy from a sore mouth, but nothing some infant pain reliever and distractions from Mama wouldn't solve. Here is John asleep the next morning (yes, you caught me not bothering to change him into pajamas).


Bed hair!


On Thursday morning, John and I were without a car and I thought it was a good idea to walk the one block to the diner across the street from the hotel for breakfast. I had known in advance that the weather would reach a high in the 20s on Thursday, but hadn't wanted to haul along my heavy coat for how little time I would be spending outdoors. Who knows how cold it was early on this morning as I trudged through the snow, but as I began to wonder if the cold air filling my sinus cavities could actually cause my head to explode I realized that maybe I shouldn't have gone for that little walk. (Never fear: John was entirely bundled up in multiple layers, heavy coat and hat, and a blanket shell. It was just Mama who was stupid-cold.)

We got to the cute, tiny White Plains airport by taxi cab. The flight was our best ever! John fell asleep about two minutes after take off (I had closed the window so he wouldn't be scared). He was sitting in my lap while I read him a book and he simply leaned back, closed his eyes, and was asleep! He stayed asleep until ten minutes before landing, when he woke up drowsily and peaceably, never letting out a squeak for the entire flight. Here is a self-taken photo:


John and I are so very glad to be home after our 48 hours in New York and we look forward to Chris joining us soon. Chris and I don't think John's frenectomy will be a magic fix, but we do hope and think it will set him on the road to age-appropriate eating. I, for one, am very excited about that!

12-Month Well-Baby Check

Taken with our cell phone camera.

John was thrilled to abscond with the pediatrician's stethoscope.

Today John had his 12-month well-baby check-up. Chris won the weight wager. The new stats are:

Height: 30.0 inches (50th percentile)
Weight: 21 lbs 15 oz (33rd percentile)
Weight/Length: 53rd percentile
Head circumference: 48.0 cm (87th percentile)

Now that John is no longer gagging on solids, the pediatrician was not at all concerned about John's slow pace at eating foods. She said he looks great and to continue offering him solids throughout the day and allow him to proceed at his own pace.

We had his hemoglobin (blood iron stores) checked. Doctors like to see a 12-month-old with a level of at least 11.0 and John's was 10.9. Rather than focus on the one-tenth of a point that John is low, we were quite tickled to see such a high number. According to mainstream teaching, John was at high risk of low iron because he was born three weeks early (babies compile their prenatal iron stores in the last four weeks of gestation), his mother from whom he gets milk is a vegetarian (doesn't get iron from meat sources), and John hasn't been eating iron-rich foods for the last six months. Yet the test results proved that the iron in breast milk is more bioavailable by far than iron from other sources, just as God designed! We will try encouraging John to eat iron-rich solids in particular and we'll consider offering him a liquid multivitamin, but we're not overly concerned at this point.

On another topic, you may be interested to learn that today is Forefather's Day.

"The Problem with Breastfeeding"

This insightful, penetrating article came across my desk today. As it pertains to a parenting subject near and dear to my heart, I deem it worthy of posting on our parenting blog. (Bolded portions are mine.)

Where I don't entirely agree with the author:

• Generally, I don't think it is the government's job to continually get in our business and promote this or that healthy behavior, but as long as our government is doing that (you should exercise, don't smoke, don't eat eggs/do eat eggs, drink milk . . .), then it is a grievous lacking that the government campaigns formula over nursing.
• While this article criticizes Republican politicians for their failings, I certainly believe, from having studied the issue, that the Democrats are also in the pockets of the big corporations.
• Also, I would rather see husbands supporting women to stay home (which fosters nursing) rather than the government forcing employers to pay women to stay home on extended maternity leave.

~Katherine

The problem with breastfeeding

by Jeannie Babb Taylor
The Catoosa County News
3 October 2007

What if doctors discovered a substance so potent, it could prevent dozens of diseases and even reduce the risk of cancer? What if these benefits extended not only to those who partake of this amazing substance, but also those who serve it? If a pharmaceutical company had developed it, it would be a billion-dollar industry. Breast milk, though, is free. Without a visible profit stream, it also lacks a marketing team.

Numerous studies show that breastfeeding reduces cancer risks for both givers and receivers --- yet the American Cancer Society (ACS) has no campaign statement on the importance of breastfeeding. One huge study (147,000 participants) found that American women could cut their breast cancer risk by 33% by increasing the lifetime average of breastfeeding from three months to thirty months, which is the worldwide average. The ACS concluded that significantly increasing breastfeeding duration was "unrealistic" and instead continues to focus on mammograms, cancer prevention drugs and other methods that put money in the pockets of physician groups and pharmaceutical companies.

Although breastfeeding has been shown to reduce sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) risk by as much as 55%, the National Institute for Child Health (NICH) invests virtually nothing in breastfeeding education. Instead, the NICH organized the "Back to Sleep" campaign encouraging parents to put babies to bed on their backs. The first corporate sponsor of the Back to Sleep campaign was Gerber, a formula and baby food manufacturer. Is it any surprise there is no financial backing to promote breastfeeding as a SIDS prevention tool?

Breastfeeding contributes significantly to child health. According to the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) breastfeeding is "as important to preventive pediatric health care as promoting immunizations, car seat use, and proper infant sleep position." Yet a recent AAP survey found that 45 percent of pediatricians who responded see formula-feeding and breast-feeding as equally acceptable. Once again, we can follow the money to understand this phenomenon. Doctors receive numerous samples, perks, and gifts from formula companies --- a practice condemned by the World Health Organization (WHO.)

Formula makers are forced to give lip service to the superiority of breastfeeding. Yet these companies spend millions of dollars per year tripping up new mothers. They have inroads at the obstetrician's office, the hospitals where babies are born, and the pediatrician's office. Formula makers ensure that every mother goes home with a couple of cans of formula, so it will be available in the middle of the night when the baby is crying, she is exhausted from lack of sleep and she is vulnerable to the insecurities American society has pressed on her day after day. The result? Even though 70% of mothers start breastfeeding, within a few months the statistics have flipped. Only 11.3% of babies are still exclusively breastfed at six months.

It is difficult to blame American mothers for the failure to breastfeed, when everything is stacked against mothers from the start. Unlike women in most other developed countries, American women receive no paid maternity leave. Only those on welfare receive a stipend to carry them through the first months of mothering. Women who support themselves are forced to return to work, where it is often impossible to bring an infant, and pumping opportunities may be few and far between, with unsanitary conditions.

Rep Carolyn Maloney (D-NY) recently introduced the Breastfeeding Promotion Act of 2007. The bill amends the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to protect breastfeeding women from workplace discrimination. It also gives employers a tax credit of up to $10,000 per year to provide employees with equipment, dedicated space and consultation for pumping breast milk. The bill establishes standards for breast pumps, and creates tax breaks for women who purchase breast pumps in order to maintain employment.

Maloney says, "I have heard many horror stories of women who were fired for trying to figure out a way to express milk at work. My bill clarifies the Pregnancy Discrimination Act to protect breastfeeding under federal civil rights law, ensuring that women cannot be fired or discriminated against in the workplace for expressing (pumping) milk, or breastfeeding during breaks or lunch time."

At least the welfare moms have the chance to stay home and breastfeed --- after all, their babies comprise the most high-risk population of infants in terms of health problems, asthma, failure to thrive and learning disabilities. Yet the formula-makers find these mothers, too. Government programs take away one of the incentives for breastfeeding by shelling out $600 million per year to put low-income infants on the bottle. Taxpayers also foot the bill for the increased healthcare cost of these children.

The U.S. government has certainly been slow to recognize the fountain of youth. Reagan and the first Bush both refused to ratify the World Health Organization's breastfeeding code, designed to protect new mothers from formula makers' guerilla marketing tactics. The code was not recognized by the U.S. until Clinton signed it in 1994, and it is still not enforced. Recently, a handful of individual states sought to enforce the code. They especially want to stop hospital formula marketing, because once a baby receives a bottle, the mother and baby are confronted with a whole host of problems including nipple confusion and inadequate milk supply. If successful breastfeeding is not established within the first few days, formula-makers are practically guaranteed a new customer.

In Massachusetts, it was Governor Mitt Romney who struck down a ban on hospital marketing. Less than two weeks later, Romney announced that he had secured the construction of a $66 million pharmaceutical plant in Devens, Massachusetts. The plant is owned by Bristol-Myers Squibb, the largest formula manufacturer in the world.

Outside the U.S., things are no better. Nestle actually targets babies in developing countries, where breastfeeding has the greatest potential for good. Babies are routinely hooked on formula in third world hospitals and sent home without ever establishing breastfeeding. Back in the village, families soon discover that the cost of buying formula is higher than their entire wage.

As a result of Nestle's tactics, sub-Saharan Africa has a breastfeeding rate of only 32%; Asia, 35%; Indonesia, 39%, Vietnam, 19%, and Thailand, 5%. According to WHO and UNICEF, approximately 1.5 million babies die each year because they were started on formula instead of breast milk.

American women who breastfeed should expect resistance from a society that depicts over-sized breasts on magazine covers and billboards, yet rejects the breast's highest function. Numerous polls show that the majority of Americans are comfortable seeing women breastfeed in public; yet, a few shrill voices continue to insist that it is improper.

American women have been harassed or thrown out of libraries, restaurants and public parks for the simple act of breastfeeding. One woman was even expelled from a Vermont Delta Freedom flight for breastfeeding her child, resulting in nurse-ins at Delta counters across the nation.

Most recently, comedian Bill Maher praised Appleby's for discriminating against a nursing mother, asserting that women who breastfeed in public are lazy and narcissistic. Maher's other comments, which are too crude to be printed in the county paper, illustrate that what bothers some people about breastfeeding isn't that it is perceived as sexual, but rather that it is not. Hooters, wet T-shirt contests and Playboy magazines are just fine with people like Maher, who believe that breasts are not for babies, but for men.

Although doctors agree that "breast is best," their own licensing board does not follow their recommendations. Breastfeeding mother and aspiring doctor Sophie Currier had to sue the National Board of Medical Examiners for the right to take pumping breaks during her nine-hour licensing exam. In typical anti-feminist fashion, the judge told Sophie she would just have to take the exam when her child was older and finished breastfeeding. She would have lost her residency in clinical pathology at Massachusetts General Hospital and derailed her career. Sophie appealed the decision, and won.

The "problem" with breastfeeding is that it lacks a corporate profit stream. It profits mothers and babies tremendously. It profits families, the government and taxpayers. The USDA estimates that $3.6 million in healthcare costs could be saved if more U.S. babies were breastfed. Unfortunately, nothing much happens in America unless it lines the pocket of a corporation. WHO cares about breastfeeding, but corporate America never will.

We live in a culture that despises human bodily fluids --- even as we feed our children cow's milk and use pregnant mare urine (Premarin) to balance menopausal hormones. Canadian researchers are even developing medicines based on genetically-engineered pig semen. The market for animal fluids continues to grow, because there is a profit stream associated with it. If formula companies maintain control of doctors and legislators, a day may come when humans are no longer classified as mammals. Mammals, after all, are defined as animals that have hair and suckle their young.

Jeannie Babb Taylor is a local business leader and author. She also teaches Sunday school, educates her children at home, and engages in Georgia politics. Jeannie may be contacted at mailto:jeannie%40babb.com, or you can leave a public comment on her blog OntheOtherHandColumn.blogspot.com.

4-Month Well-Baby Check

I realize that if God blesses us with more children, at some point I'll probably stop bothering with attending all these many well-baby checks. So, I really enjoy milking them for all they are worth right now. I enjoy going in when John is healthy because it is like receiving an A+ report card!

Here are his latest statistics:

• Weight: 15 pounds 2 ounces (58th percentile) [Mama won the wager this time]
• Height: 25.3 inches (65th percentile) [This boy has grown half a foot since he was born!]
• Head circumference: 42.5 centimeters (58th percentile)

John's pediatrician said that his frequent night waking is very normal and healthy for his age and that letting John daytime-nap in my sling is good for him and for lengthening his sleep sessions.

The doctor noticed John's beginning of stranger anxiety and said that was a good sign that he is securely attached to his mama, just like he is supposed to be.

We also talked about introducing solids and the pediatrician said she was so pleased that we are exclusively breastfeeding and that she knows how much work and effort it required from us to get through the learning curve to now, when it is convenient and I can do it without thinking. She agreed with us that there is absolutely no need to rush solids, that introducing solids too early can be a risk (i.e., reduces iron absorption, proliferates harmful bacteria in the intestines, increases allergies, etc.), and that six months is not a magic number: even then we need to watch for other readiness signs. She is thrilled that we're not rushing to replace the superior infant food (human milk) with inferior food (anything other than human milk). Plus she said, "Of course, he's healthy! Look at what a chunky boy he is!"

Overall, John is doing superbly and we feel so blessed by God to have him!

Daddy at Work = Fewer Photos by Mommy

My first two days "home alone" while Chris returned to working in the office went well enough, I think. On Tuesday, all by myself, I managed to take John to his doctor's appointment, stop by the store, and cook black bean soup. The soup took me all afternoon because I only had time to throw in a couple of ingredients at a time before I'd need to tend to John.

On my second day on my own, John was awake a lot, so I got fewer tasks done. However, I did succeed at taking a 2-mile walk with John, picking up the messy living room, and doing half of one load of laundry (the washing, but not the drying).

At John's 4-week well-baby check, we discovered that his growth is fantastic! All his nursing around the clock is showing good results! Also, John is tracking faces and objects, and his pediatrician says that the smiles we are witnessing are real, not gas.

Weight at birth: 6 lbs 11 oz (19th percentile)
At 4 weeks: 8 lbs 5 oz (18th percentile)

Head circumference at birth: 33.0 cm (10th percentile)
At 4 weeks: 37.5 cm (37th percentile)

Length at birth: 19.0 in (26th percentile)
At 4 weeks: 21.0 in (33rd percentile)

I've been too busy to take many photos the last couple of days, but here are two from today. The first is John sleeping in his Pak N Play while I cooked myself lunch.



The second is John sleeping in his bouncy seat in my office while I did some paperwork. Look at those plump cheeks!

Our Big Saturday (and Our Big Son!)

On Saturday, our wonderful and competent birthing instructor Sallie invited us to speak to her current students about my labor. We were happy to oblige! Sallie teaches the Bradley birthing method in her excellent 12-week classes, which is what enabled me to get through my Pitocin-labor without any pain medications and which taught my dear husband how to help me do it!

Sallie holding John:



Sallie happens to host her classes at John's pediatrician's office, so we obtained permission from the doctor to weigh John while we were there. The little tank weighed in at 8 pounds 5 ounces!

Birth: 6 lbs 10 oz
Dropped to: 6 lbs 0 oz
11 days old: 6 lbs 11 oz
26 days old: 8 lbs 5 oz
= weight gain of 1.7 oz per day for the prior 15 days!
= God's designed food for infants is perfect!

After Sallie's class, the three of us made my first postpartum trip to the grocery store. I feel so incompetent as I have to learn to do everything from scratch with an infant. At the store, John and I had Chris there for safety but we tried to pretend he wasn't there, so I would do things the way I would with John alone. John was very happy in his sling and the trip went well! Oh no . . . I think this means I am ready to take back more of my domestic duties . . .

Photos of Mama and John taking a nap on Saturday afternoon. (No, these are not a photos of John nursing. He is just snuggling against my sweater.)

John Is Growing Strong!

Three cheers for God's perfectly designed infant food! John had his second pediatrician's appointment today. The goal is to get babies back to their birth weight by two weeks, but John superceded that by passing his birth weight (6 lbs 10 oz) on Day 11. He weighs 6 lbs 11 oz, his head circumference has grown 1 centimeter, and his length has grown 0.5 inch. The doctor remarked repeatedly about how content John is!

First Doctor's Visit

John went to his first pediatrician's visit on at four days' old. His weight loss was perfectly normal and safe for his age. His color and output and everything about him remains perfect!

The trip was much more traumatizing for Mama who felt like she'd been run over by a train after the hour-and-a-half outing.