Guest Post- The HBAC of Ky (by Bec Gorman)

My Pregnancy Journey and HBAC of Ky- guest blog by Bec Gorman

This story begins with the birth of our first baby, Madison in September 2008. Our beautiful baby girl entered the world via ‘emergency’ caesarean after I was induced at 39 weeks for a mild case of pregnancy induced hypertension. Not knowing any better and being very impatient at the time, we happily agreed with the induction. It resulted in a very intense long 21 hour labour and a cascade of intervention (continuous monitoring laying on the bed, two pethidine injections, three epidurals, artificial rupture of membranes, syntocinon and three failed vacuum delivery attempts). After all of this, being stuck flat on my back feeling paralysed any wonder I couldn’t birth my baby girl! My blood pressure and Madison’s heart rate remained stable throughout the labour but she was ‘stuck’ in a right occiput posterior position. Off to theatre we rushed. After such an ordeal Madison’s first cry was music to our ears and we were delighted to finally meet her. She weighed 7lb11oz.

We planned to have our children from 18 months apart. When Madison was 10 months old we were thrilled to discover a second little darling was on their way. We now lived in a different city. Very early in the pregnancy we booked in with a private obstetrician and hospital because that’s the path we were familiar with from our first pregnancy. It wasn’t until I fell pregnant again that I really started to reflect on my birth experience with Madison – not something I wanted to endure again. I felt I had missed out on the real experience of birth, that the drugs and intervention had robbed me of a necessary experience of being a woman and mother. I became very determined to make this journey different and have a vaginal birth after caesarean (VBAC) but little did I know about the challenges I’d be up against in the private system. I started thinking about all my options to help me achieve a VBAC. Finding a doula was my first step. We will be forever grateful for the wonderful invaluable support, encouragement and friendship that our doula, Kylie gave us from day one.

At our first appointment with the obstetrician we stated our desire of a VBAC upfront. He seemed quite supportive and told us he had an 80% VBAC success rate. I was a little disbelieving and sure enough the hospital statistics told a much different story of ~11%. Kylie encouraged me to nut out his rules and regulations of a VBAC at my next appointment. So I did and asked him to lay it all out on the table so to speak. This time he told me that HE would decide at 37 weeks what type of birth I could have but it would most likely be a caesarean on Thursday 15th April (10 days before my EDD) and checked his calendar there and then! If he did let me have a ‘trial of labour’ I would be subject to all the ridiculous rules that go with it. As if I was going to wait out the next 20+ weeks for HIS verdict on how I could birth our baby and at his convenience! I left his office knowing I would never return.

I was no longer interested in obstetric care and wasn’t eligible (because I wanted a VBAC) for one to one midwifery care at the public hospital. I began to do loads of research and read everything I could get my hands on, particularly by authors such as Michel Odent, Ina May Gaskin, Janet Balaskas and Sheila Kitzinger. The things they had to say about birth resonated with me. We started to learn more about private midwifery care and home birth and realised that by taking charge of where and how I birthed, I would be able to increase the likelihood of a good and gentle outcome for both myself and our baby. So home birth was it!

Around the beginning of my third trimester we found the most fantastic private midwife. From the moment we met Rachele we knew she would be a perfect fit for our pregnancy journey and dream birth. She is incredibly compassionate, supportive, knowledgeable and trusting and respectful of the natural birthing process. Every time Rachele met with us we felt completely relaxed and supported in our decisions. We were very grateful for not only gaining a wonderful midwife but also another great friend.

I had one booking appointment at the public hospital (in case of transfer) at which the obstetrician had no hesitation in telling me I was making a very foolish decision to have a home birth after caesarean (HBAC) and it would be very irresponsible of me as a mother. He also told me my pelvis was probably too small since I was unable to birth an average size baby the first time. I challenged him to discuss the risks associated with multiple caesareans and the benefits of VBAC but he didn’t want to acknowledge any. I felt a little rattled after this appointment but in the end it actually gave me more determination to achieve my birth the way I wanted it and not be dictated to over a minuscule risk of uterine rupture.

My pregnancy was perfect, next to no morning sickness, no reflux, no aches and pains, no fatigue, no blood pressure issues and I never got impatient with it. I attribute this to being more physically active (regular daily walking of 2-3km, yoga and aqua aerobics), consuming a high protein and calcium diet, natal hypnotherapy, networking with other home birth mums who especially achieved a HBAC, maintaining a relaxed and positive mind and becoming much more informed and educated about active birth and birth being a natural normal physiological event – a big thanks goes to Peter Jackson and his Calmbirth class for contributing to this. Peter filled us with confidence and empowered me to trust my body and let birth unfold in the natural manner that my body was designed to do.
Throughout my pregnancy I became more and more comfortable with the idea of birth. I felt very prepared and wasn’t afraid. The perfect birth was to follow. From 38 weeks I started experiencing pre-labour symptoms – intermittent mild period-type pain, loose bowel motions and stronger braxton hicks (BH) tightenings. Each day and night we would talk to our baby and let him know how much we already loved him and that we couldn’t wait to meet him whenever he was ready. I would also tell him about the beautiful calm home birth we had prepared for him.

At around 8:30pm on the evening of my estimated due date, 25th April ’10, the strong BH tightenings returned. At first I didn’t think too much of it and just thought it might be another night like I’d had three of in the previous 10 days. I would get evenings of fairly regular BH that would ramp up before fizzling in the early hours of the morning. John and I stayed up watching TV for a couple of hours before I went to bed and listened to my Calmbirth CDs, relaxed and practising my breathing. The tightenings were coming irregularly, anything from about seven to 20 minutes apart. I dozed in and out of sleep for a couple of hours and woke at 1am for the usual bathroom visit. I couldn’t get back to sleep as it was a bit uncomfortable lying on my hips plus I was excited with anticipation that this might actually turn into labour. I paced around the house a little and sat on my fit ball surfing the net. But by 3am the tightenings were starting to fizzle and I was feeling sleepy so back to bed I went expecting to wake up later in the morning with things unchanged. I fell asleep straight away. At 3:44am I woke with a tightening that made me jump out of bed in a flash! This one felt much different in intensity and length. I had to run to the ensuite (bowels were in motion) and when I went to the toilet I noticed I was starting to lose my mucus plug. Woohoo! I thought...this is for real! I had to spend the next hour in the bathroom. At 5am the tightenings ramped up and were now coming regularly approximately 3-4 minutes apart and lasting around 60 seconds. I considered this the beginning of active labour. I woke John half an hour later telling him “Happy wedding anniversary babe, I think we are going to meet our little boy today!” After he realised what I said he jumped out of bed asking what he could do to help. He went about setting up my music, aromatherapy, lighting our birth candles and laying towels around the birth pool. At 6am I asked John to call Rachele, Kylie and my parents, who were to look after Madison. I found I had to concentrate through each tightening and focus on my breathing and it was most comfortable to kneel in a squat position on the floor and lean over pillows stacked on the side of our bed. In the breaks I would get up, chat and walk around to remain active.

Everyone had arrived by 7am and entered quietly into our calm, peaceful birthing environment. I hugged and kissed Madison goodbye for the day. Rachele monitored our baby’s heart rate by doppler and my pulse approximately every half an hour during this first stage of labour. They both remained stable throughout the entire labour. I was feeling hungry so attempted to eat some fruit but found it tasted sickly sweet and I soon vomited it back up. Sucking on ice chips and sips of water were much more palatable. I started to add a swaying hip movement to my upright semi-squat position and continued to breathe through each tightening with my birth team massaging and applying heat packs to my lower back and reminding me to slow and deepen my breathing when necessary.

Around 9am the birth pool was nearly full and I was starting to feel pressure in my bottom so I hopped in the warm water, submerged my body, stretched out and felt blissful! I even got a few power naps in. My mucus plug continued to come away in bits and pieces and the tightenings were still 3-4 minutes apart. At about 10:30am I was grunting at the peak of each tightening and feeling like I needed to push. I actually had not been watching the clock so had no idea of the time throughout labour and to me it had seemed to go so quickly. I was a bit concerned that maybe it wasn’t really time to push and I should hold off in case I wasn’t fully dilated plus my waters hadn’t broken yet...shouldn’t they have broken by now?, I thought. So I asked my team how far they thought I was (I didn’t want any internal examinations done). I got the reply “Further than you were at 5am! You’re doing great just trust your body and go with it”. I could tell by the smile on their faces and the twinkle in their eyes that my feeling to push was right. Everyone continued to participate in comforting me with massage, hot packs, pouring water over my head and back, aromatherapy and encouragement.

Over the next half an hour I started to push with each tightening. A few minutes later Rachele announced she could see something, maybe his head! Turns out it was actually the intact bag of forewaters. It was a very bizarre feeling birthing this ‘water balloon’ and having it dangle between my legs! Rachele was now monitoring baby’s heart rate every 4 minutes in between tightenings. After about 45 minutes of pushing I felt like I was getting nowhere and began to get panicky that maybe I couldn’t do this, maybe I wasn’t built to birth naturally (even though deep down I knew this wasn’t true). I began to doubt my ability but at no point did I ever want medical pain relief. Sure the sensations of these very strong tightenings were uncomfortable at their peak but nothing I felt I couldn’t cope with between the preparation I had done and the support around me. (To be honest the discomfort of my haemorrhoids was worse than the tightenings!). Everyone quickly brought me back in line with words of encouragement and positive affirmations so that I could focus on my breathing and visualisations again. The voice of my wonderful yoga teacher, Deb also popped into my head telling me that I could do it!

By this stage I was feeling rather wrinkly from being in the pool for a while and was starting to get cramps in my feet. Rachele and Kylie suggested I get out of the pool and use the assistance of gravity and try some new positions. I alternated between sitting on the toilet and standing leaning against John. Rachele suggested I feel for my baby’s head myself, so I did and to my surprise I felt him about 2cm away from crowning. ‘Wow’ I thought, he really is there! This excited me and spurred me on even more. With each push I could feel him move down slightly but then slip back up. I still had the intact bag of waters dangling between my legs, which was starting to annoy me and waiver my concentration from the task at hand. Rachele said I could break it off if it was bothering me. As amazing as I thought it would be to birth our baby in an intact membrane sac, I broke the bag off at 12:30pm and then his head came into view as I pushed. I got the hang of breathing him down and holding him there more so than trying to push really hard and then have him slip back up at the end of each tightening. This method felt much more effective. We were so close now! I needed a new position so John sat on the edge of the bed and I leant on his shoulder facing him in a standing squat position. Those weekly yoga squats and postures during pregnancy certainly paid off, thanks Deb!

Just after 1pm I could feel his head starting to crown. That ‘burning ring of fire’ really wasn’t that bad. Kylie placed a mirror on the floor below me so I could watch this amazing birth moment unfold. With the next tightening I birthed his head and nuchal hand (any wonder my stage two took a while!). I reached down and felt his warm wet head and was totally amazed. My only word was “Wowsers!” which I kept repeating. The next tightening came quickly and with one push I birthed the rest of his body which whooshed out followed by a massive gush of waters and membranes. It sounded like a water pipe bursting! Rachele took a classic catch (at 1:13pm after 8 hours of active labour) and immediately passed our beautiful baby boy, Ky Ambrose, up to me on the bed.
The room was filled with exclamations of cheer, joy, love, tears and one very loud newborn cry. It was all a little surreal for me at first and took a few moments to sink in that I actually did it...I birthed my 10lb baby at home after caesarean! I was quickly overjoyed with emotions that our dream had come true and overwhelmed with feelings of love, happiness and accomplishment. I will always cherish those first cuddles and immediate skin to skin contact. Ky breast crawled and fed perfectly within 30 minutes. I had looked forward to these moments for so long as I was unable to experience this with Madison.

We did not clamp his cord until after it stopped pulsating and then John had the privilege of cutting it. I had a normal physiological 3rd stage and birthed Ky’s placenta after about 45 minutes. Ky’s APGARS were 9 and 9, weight 10lb, length 53cm and HC 37cm. We snuggled in the comfort of our own bed for the rest of the afternoon. Madison excitedly returned home to meet her new little brother and we were an elated family of four.

In a way I am grateful for the birth experience I had with Madison as this allowed me to learn about the best things I could do to work with Ky to bring him earth side in the finest possible way. Ky’s birth was the most empowering moment of my life. This journey has changed me profoundly and I now wouldn’t give birth any other way.

My advice to any woman wanting a VBAC and/or a natural birth is to do your homework, trust your instincts, surround yourself with positive support, plan a joyous birth and be in control of your journey. Doing this allowed me to achieve the outcome I got. I don’t consider myself brave or crazy (as I have been told by many) for having a wonderful natural birth at home after caesarean, just simply educated. A woman’s body is designed perfectly for giving birth. I wish for more women to trust their bodies and believe in themselves and not be so scared of giving birth. I hope this story inspires women to do so.

Spending the day next to a victim of circumcision

Yesterday we spent the day at hospital as my son had to have a suspicious lump removed from his shin. We're awaiting the results and he's a tough little person who is coping well- he barely seems to notice the fact that he even had surgery. He is almost 4 years old and is way too active to let something like 15 stitches slow him down!

We arrived at the hospital at 7am. Just waiting for his surgery was traumatic enough to have to deal with, but our day got worse when I casually asked the parents in the bed next to us what their son was here for.
Dad: "Oh, it's a circumcision thing."
Myself: "Pardon?"
Dad: "He's having surgery on his circumcision."
Myself: "Sorry? He's being circumcised?"
Dad: "Oh, no, they are fixing the first one."
Myself: "Done recently?"
Dad: "No, he had it done as a newborn."
Myself: "Oh, that's horrific...."

I had to grit my teeth and turn my head and try not to say something which would only inflame what was already a bad situation with a room full of starving children who weren't even allowed water as they were all awaiting surgery.

Not only had this poor little boy already been mutilated, but they had mutilated him so that he needed surgery to correct the first mutilation. Two unnecessary surgeries and the poor little boy was 18 months old.

Although I was anxious about my own son's necessary surgery, I found it hard not to think about the poor little boy in the bed next to us. How did he feel when he was first done? How much pain had he been in since then because of the first unnecessary surgery? How much pain would he be in after this one?

The thought of them cutting into my son's flesh made me feel so awful, but the thought of insisting it is done to your newborn son's genitals makes me feel absolutely revolted.

He was the child to go in before my son, and as I watched them carry him into surgery I couldn't help but be angry. I would have done anything to not be in a hospital with my son, and the thought of this little boy being there because his parents chose to remove healthy tissue from his genitals when he was days old made me feel quite ill.

While their son was in recovery, my son was wheeled into theatre and I held his hand and stroked him while they anaesthetized him. I went back into the ward and waited for my son's surgery to be finished.

Both of the little boy's parents were waiting there as I waited for my son's surgery to be over. We exchanged polite smiles and leafed through newspapers. I watched the clock and hoped my son's surgery would be over soon. They came to tell me my son was in recovery but wouldn't be awake for a while as he was drowsy from morphine (which I never imagined they would give to a child, actually!). I jiggled my feet and waited for when my son was awake enough so I could go and be with him.

Then they wheeled the little boy in. He was screaming and sobbing, clawing his way out of the metal crib to cling to his parents. They held him and rocked him and he screamed. They sang him songs and walked him around and he screamed. Nurses came in and pulled the curtain around the bed, talking to the parents and checking his nappy for blood. The little boy continued to scream. They gave him morphine and he went from screaming to sobbing, curled into a little ball as his parents rocked him, shushed him, patted him, rubbed him. For half an hour I sat next to the curtain pulled around his crib and I had to try not to cry for this poor little boy. His heart started to beat too fast and more morphine was administered. They laid him on the crib and he whimpered in his sleep, his body curled into the foetal position.

My son was rousing so I went to recovery and sat with him for 20 minutes while he drifted in and out of consciousness. The mass in his shin wasn't what they expected and they had to remove much more than they thought. I thought he'd have 6 stitches, he has around 15. When he was ready to be moved back to the ward as we got back I could hear the little boy still whimpering, his mother out in the hall having some space while his father tried to soothe him.

We had to wait 3 more hours before we could take our son home. The entire time we were there post-surgery, the little boy next to us whimpered and cried in his sleep, his heart rate checked constantly. He would rouse and flail about, crying and raggedly choking on his own sobs. He pulled out the canula in his arm, spilling blood on the floor between our beds. I felt incredibly sick and incredibly sorry for this small person who had to be there because of a mistake.

When we left, they were still there, waiting for their son to be well enough to take home. Children who had been operated after my son was being discharged and this tiny little boy was still whimpering in his sleep, full of painkillers to numb a pain he never had to experience.

I've been an intactivist for years. When I discovered my son's sex I researched circumcision and realised just how barbaric it is. What I saw yesterday horrified me, and I was watching a toddler experience it. I can't imagine how awful it must be to see a newborn after male genital mutilation. This small boy was given a pre-operative sedative, general anaesthetic, morphine, codeine, paracetamol and more morphine- and he still whimpered in his sleep. I fail to see how anyone could say that a baby barely notices being circumcised- and with no anaesthetic and paracetamol for pain relief.

I'd give anything to keep my son away from a surgeon and away from pain.

I can't begin to grasp why anyone would willingly hand their perfectly whole, well child to a surgeon- and ask them to cut off healthy tissue for aesthetic or religious purposes.

The HBAC waterbirth of Archer- guest post

The HBAC waterbirth of Archer- guest post, Anonymous

My son was born into a birthing pool in the middle of the afternoon at the end of March. It was mostly silent; I could hear the sounds of the school kids walking past, the sound of my dogs barking at them as usual. Life was going on around us outside and here I was, about to give birth normally for the first time. My first birth was an emergency caesarean, I hadn’t experienced a normal vaginal birth before. I never wanted to feel a baby taken out of my stomach ever again and now here I was, a total opposite experience for my second birth. No hospitals, no doctors, no interventions, no hospital rules, no limitations. Just myself, my partner, my doula and the midwives.

My daughter's first moments after she was born via cesarean.

Here is the story of my labour and birth…

10.30am, after an unusually decent night sleep (you know how it is when you are in those final days!) I grabbed some breakfast and sat down on the couch and jumped online. I had a funny feeling like a cramp and I went to the toilet. I sent my partner Scott a text message telling him to stay close to the phone, I think something might happen today. After a few minutes I needed to go to the toilet again and I had a bloody show. I rang Scott and told him to come home. I have a contraction. Ouch ouch OUCH. I ring my Midwife Emma to let her know that something’s happening. The pain is so bad I drop the phone mid-conversation. I have this incredible urge to push. Emma tells me she is still on the other end of town but is on her way. I was scared she wouldn’t make it in time! I ring my doula Jodee and tell her what’s happening. I describe my contractions to her and she tells me she will get to me within 30 minutes. 

11am-11:45am - While I am waiting for everyone to come to my house, I labour away up in my bedroom. I don’t feel like there is much time between each contraction. Every one that surges through me is hard, intense, with the incredible urge to push. I am worried that I am pushing too early so I squat with my head on the floor and bottom in the air. I call Scott again and almost yell- you have to come home right now!

11:50am - Scott gets home, quickly comes into our room to check on me and says he is just going to start filling up the pool.

12pm - Jodee arrives. She puts soothing oils in the oil burner as soon as she arrives. She calms me down and starts helping me cope better with the pain. I feel more focused. I try to breathe through each contraction as they intensify. After 30 mins Jodee suggests I try the shower, so we move to the bathroom and I spend some time in there with the hot water on my back, leaning into Scott during each contraction.

12:38pm – Emma (Midwife) arrives and starts setting up. Someone suggests that I move back into the bedroom as we need use the hot water to fill up the rest of the pool (the joys of low water pressure). While the shower was helping, the urge to get into the birth pool is greater so we go back to the bedroom and I kneel over the bed for the next hour. Every 10 minutes or so Emma checks fetal heart rate with the Doppler- perfectly normal.

1340 - After labouring away in my bedroom (and after a mishap where the hose filling the pool flies out and sprays water all over our TV) the pool is announced full! I make my way down there and climb in and it feels wonderful. I decide it’s most comfortable to keep kneeling and to lean over the side of the pool, holding onto Scott or Jodee’s hands. Each contraction seems to be getting more intense and longer. I am getting longer breaks between them where I am able to breathe slowly and recoup. I find the flickering lights of the electrical equipment around the TV as something I can focus on. I ask out loud if this is real labour (I get a few laughs..) The labour seems to be settling down into a groove. I wonder what’s going on. Everyone is telling me I am doing really well. I requested no internals so I had no idea what my body is doing. I had been trying not to push, I asked if I could push now, I get told I can go with it. Looking back through my labour notes I find that I was having a contraction once every 2 to 3 minutes lasting 60 seconds long. It sure felt intense!

Top, I am breathing through a contraction. Below, a rest in between

  
14:30pm - I start to feel a little bit of stinging at the end of each contraction. WOW I thought calmly to myself...My baby is going to be arriving soon! So this is where I get back to the start of this story. I remember thinking my hair was all over the place. That I was glad it wasn’t too hot as my air conditioner doesn’t work that well when it’s hot and humid. I even wanted my dogs to stop barking. I never once thought about that scar on my uterus!

14:56pm - I keep getting longer feelings of stinging. Then I feel a pop and a stretching sensation and his head is out. Wow I remember feeling, that means the rest of him will follow! I can feel his head begin to rotate. It is the most awful feeling. Not painful, but it felt like someone was behind me pulling him around, and I ask if someone was pushing down on him, but no, the midwives tell me, that’s him turning all by himself. I am too scared to move and holding on I wait for the next contraction.

 

(Archer, head out- who is already looking at the world!)

15:03pm - I feel one last push and whoosh he slides out. Emma is behind me and tells me to get my hands down and she pushes him under my legs. I reach down and pull him up and out of the water. Oh my gosh, I stare down into his eyes, he stares up into my face and we gaze at each other. He is covered lightly in vernix, the rest floats around in the pool. He looks a little grey straight away but slowly starts changing colour. I think, yep, just birthed my baby, as you do. I thought straight away that yes, it hurt, but it felt...easy and normal. I sit down finally after 4.5 hours and hold him to my chest. I start to process what I have just done. I chat away with the Emma, Jodee and Scott while we wait for the umbilical cord to stop pulsating and the placenta to come away. I offer the breast to Archer but he’s not really interested!

16:00pm - I am experiencing mild cramps but no contractions. The backup midwife has a quick check and tells me the next time I have a contraction to push through it like I did during labour. When it finally happens I push, and then- whoosh- the placenta comes out intact. By now the cord has stopped pulsating so we clamp the cord and I ask Scott to cut it, which he does. 

-->The water is getting cold so I hand over Archer to Scott for his first cuddles while I head to the shower. Best shower ever. I remember standing in there thinking, I have just birthed a baby and I am walking around having a shower! I felt pretty invincible right then. I go back to the lounge and get checked for tearing. We find a 2nd degree labial tear as Archer came out with his hand over his face. I didn’t care though, I had an amazing empowering birth experience.

I am cradling my baby on my chest and I start to call my family. I had already decided that I wasn’t going to let anyone know until after the birth, so it was wonderful to be able to call them up and say “Hey mum, dad, I had my baby not long ago!” I move back up to the bedroom and get comfortable in bed. We weigh and measure Archer. 3.3kgs, born at 3:03pm and 54cms long. 

At 18:30 both Emma and Jodee have left. Scott’s parents bring our daughter back home to meet Archer. She sits on the bed next to us and reaches over to tickle his head and laughs. He fits seamlessly into our lives.

Living in a world where everything is toxic...

Almost every day, it becomes evident our world is toxic. Our water is polluted and has chemicals added to it which harm our organs, bones and gastro-intestinal tract. Our air is filled with chemicals, pesticides, airborne bacteria, viruses, mould spores and more.

“It's no longer a question of staying healthy. It's a question of finding a sickness you like.”

 Jackie Mason

The plastic toys made for children are rich with phthalates, known to cause cancer. Many of the sippy cups made for babies are made with plastics which contain Bisphenol A (BPA), another carcinogen. Our mattresses, clothing, carpets, paint and furniture leech toxins into our homes. Even our MDF furniture is releasing formaldehyde into our homes. The little toilet block which smells lovely is horribly toxic and poisoning us every time we use the bathroom. The dishwashing powder is making us ill, the dishwashing liquid is suppressing our immune systems, the pest treatment from 6 months ago is leeching into our organs. Every time we have a shower we are breathing in chloride and fluoride from the steamy water. Our shampoo and conditioner are nothing but lovely smelling chemicals, our soap is the same.

The fruit and vegetables we buy are sprayed with carbendazim and endosulfan- both known to cause infertility, genetic abnormalities, illness and poisoning. The tinned foods available in supermarkets are in cans lined with BPA rich plastics. The plastics our food are packaged in are also often BPA plastic. The cardboard boxes are treated with chemicals to deter pests. Our meats are gassed so they look pinker, or even flushed with ammonia to kill lethal bacteria which are a result of antibiotic use in animals.

From the moment our babies are born, they are exposed to toxins everywhere. If your baby is born at a hospital, in the moments after birth they are exposed to huge amounts of toxins. The gloves on the doctor or midwife's hands are exuding phthalates. The blanket or towel used to rub them down has been chemically treated to remove all bacteria, bodily waste and stains. The stethoscope used to check their heartbeat has been doused with antibacterial chemicals to ensure no cross-contamination. The floor has been mopped with chemicals, the air coming through the cooling system has passed through chemical treatment plants to ensure there is no bacteria. The staff are leaving chemical trails everywhere they go from the detergents they use in their washing machines and the fabric softeners which are designed to make us feel more comfortable. The waterproof mattress is giving off phthalates as you hold your baby close to you, waiting for it to latch on and have its first suckle at your breast- where it will receive an amazing dose of antibodies and the best food available- except your breastmilk contains chemicals too!

More and more people are developing allergies, sensitivities, illnesses. More and more adults are getting repeatedly sick from simple common viruses and developing cancers. More and more children are diagnosed with learning difficulties, Autism Spectrum disorders, suppressed immune systems, the inability to fight off a cold.

Is it a huge leap to consider that perhaps chemicals are negatively impacting on our health so dramatically? The evidence against chemicals is stacking up, and the companies selling them aren't going to withdraw their products or suggest you buy something less toxic. Our governments aren't doing anything about it. Saving energy is a worth-while goal, but nobody has started to take steps to save lives.

So how do you combat it? What difference can you make in your own home, and your own community?

Here are some simple steps to help you change the amount of chemicals in your home:
►Buy organic wherever possible. Some larger chains now sell organic items at prices similar to conventional items, but check they are certified by an organic certification body. Organic food not only means less pesticides going into the bodies in your home, it also reduces the chemicals used to produce your food. Look at farmer's markets and places with large amounts of organic produce so you aren't paying triple for organic items.
►Water filters which remove fluoride and chlorine will help improve your thyroid function and give your body a chance to detox. Fluoride is highly toxic and replaces iodine in the body which has helped create the generation of iodine-deficient people we see now. If you think fluoride is good for your teeth, brush well with a fluoride toothpaste all you like, but spit it out and rinse well. (Looking into the difference between sodium fluoride and calcium fluoride might change your mind on how useful fluoride toothpaste is.)
►buy environmentally friendly, greywater safe, biodegradable detergents for your dishes and clothing. Fabric softeners are highly toxic and release fumes which are carcinogenic. Lavender oil added to the rinse has the same nice smelling effect without the chemicals.
►Don't use soap or body care products on your baby unless it's necessary. Choose organic products with natural ingredients where possible. Baby products are often filled with petrochemicals and phthalates.

Body-care products containing phthalates are a source of exposure for infants. The authors of a 2008 study "observed that reported use of infant lotion, infant powder, and infant shampoo were associated with increased infant urine concentrations of [phthalate metabolites], and this association is strongest in younger infants. These findings suggest that dermal exposures may contribute significantly to phthalate body burden in this population."

►choose Sodium Laureth Sulphate free shampoos and conditioners, and look at the ingredients on every soap or wash you buy. If it isn't derived from nature or has a lot of hydroxy-sounding huge names on it, don't buy it. Consider using sodium bicarb to wash your hair and rinse with Apple Cider vinegar
►Save yourself money and use bicarbonate soda and vinegar to clean your home. Add some Lavender and Tea Tree oil on occasion if you like- they are anti-bacterial and anti-fungal and they smell nice too.
 ►Don't use pesticides or insecticides in your home at all. Fly screens are more effective than fly spray, and those annoying flies that get in are easily dealt with using a rolled up newspaper, or two magazines slapped together.
►Throw out your disinfectants and use tea tree oil instead. Disinfectants kill the tiny germs which we need to help build our immune systems up.
►Air freshers are chemicals which mask odours, are toxic and have been proven to cause respiratory problems in children and adults. Essential oils are a much better option, mixed with water in a spritzer bottle.
►Choose toys made from natural materials for your children where possible. Wooden toys are also wonderful heirloom pieces to pass on to future generations.
►Look for BPA free plastics for cups, plates and bowls for children. Make sure your baby's cups and bottles aren't made from plastic containing Bisphenol A (#3,#6 and #7).
►Check how old the toys in your home are and throw out old toys which are releasing phthalates.

Even just eliminating some chemicals from your home will not only help your family, but it will have a long-term effect on the environment and the waterways. The chemical run-off from your home will be minimised and by using less chemicals you are decreasing the amount of carbon used to manufacture these chemicals and transport it to point of sale.

I know many people with multiple chemical sensitivity. I can only see this becoming more prevalent as we add more chemicals to our world and to our homes. What we often fail to see is how huge an impact we can make on our immediate environment, and in the long-term, the world. Every time you use a natural product you are reducing the need for chemicals and reducing the toxicity in our world. Each and every time you leave the supermarket without buying chemicals, you are making a statement to them and helping shape future buying habits. The more organic, natural products we choose, the more supplies stores will ship in for purchase, and the more people who might see them on the shelves and reach for them instead of the chemical cousin.

Whenever we practice a process which benefits people, we normalise it. When your friends and family see you using organic products, it encourages them to choose differently too. You can make a huge impact- not only on your health, but on the health of your family, your friends, your community, the community where these products are manufactured, and the world in general.

“Does wisdom perhaps appear on the earth as a raven which is inspired by the smell of carrion?”       ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Mothering Yourself On Mother's Day ♥

Today is mother's day, and I am honouring my role as a mother. My children are too small to understand the meaning of today, and thankfully too small to buy into the commercial hype about it as well!

Every Mother's Day I reflect on my own mother and on the way I was mothered. More than ever, since having children this brings up a lot of hurt and sadness.



As a mother, I am as attached as I can be. My children are at the forefront of my mind all of the time. I research deeply to ensure that the choices I make are based on not only my instinct, but also on what is shown- and known- to be best for my children so they grow into healthy adults. Despite being overwhelmed, frustrated, isolated or snowed under, I do my best to ensure my children know I am present for them every moment that I can be, and I try to enjoy the moments of calm which happen miraculously every once in a blue moon. My children were only cared by myself (and occasionally their father) for the first 3 years of their life- the exception being that my 3.5 year old son recently started kindergarten (and I have to explain that as someone who is planning to homeschool, this might seem at odds with my philosophy, however to support us I have to work a few days a week and one of those days I cannot bring him with me.). I co-sleep, extended breastfeed, babywear and attend to my children's needs instead of leaving them to cry. My children are still small, and they need me right now. Children need us more intensely for the their first 5 years of life than they will ever need us. 

My mother is a stark contrast to myself, which is something I have thought long and hard about. Did I become an attachment parent in response to her detachment? Or am I a maternal person compared to her lack of emotion simply because we are different people? Is she a byproduct of a detached childhood herself, and if so- what is her excuse for not evolving, not resolving to make her children's lives happier than her own childhood?

I was raised by strangers in childcare centres, palmed off to babysitters, handed over at every possible moment. My mother didn't want to mother us so she hid behind the values of 'Feminism'- which has nothing to do with actual feminism but was a twisted perception to excuse her choices. (I am a feminist myself, so I now know how backward her apporach is!) We were in childcare because real feminists worked fulltime AND had a family. She had to go back to work because women need to show they are equal to men. Every excuse was used. But the truth boils down to this- my mother didn't want to be at home with us as babies. Nor as children. She didn't want to mother us. She found us boring and a waste of her time. Which might have just been a fact for her, but it was a rejection to me, and an invalidation of my needs.

As an adult, my relationship with my mother is strained and based on nothing more than family. I am not bonded to my mother, nor do I feel a deep attachment to her. I never have. I feel nostalgic and emotional when I smell her perfume- I think this is the closest I ever got to getting a scent imprint of my mother that I could attach to. We discuss my children and I am jealous because my mother is more affectionate, more loving, more caring when it comes to her grandchildren. I understand this, because she isn't as emotionally invested and she doesn't have to live with them full time. But it still hurts to see my children receive love from her and feel a hurt in a far-away place where a wound was created by the absence of her love.

So today, on Mother's Day, I do not ring my mother- instead, my father rings me to prompt me to ring her. She is hurt that nobody has called her. And usually I do. But today, I don't think I will ring my mother. Every time I ring her for mother's day, I allow her to ignore the hurt she caused by not mothering my sisters and I. Every time I ring her for mother's day, I am allowing her to continue pretending that I think that "You were/are a great mum." Yet she was not. Is not. I do not want to hurt her, but I don't want to hurt myself by ignoring my experiences.

My mother knows I am a single parent with two small children, yet she is hurt when her adult children don't honour her mother status. She didn't even consider that there was nobody honouring my motherhood, that she could take a step and ring me to wish me a happy mother's day. My father honours my mother for bringing his children into the world- he has since the day she gave birth to my older sister and he has continued to do so- daily- for the 30+ years which have passed since. Yet she needs us to validate this, on a day which is nothing but a commercial opportunity to sell cards and flowers and chocolates. I am supposed to validate someone for being a mother lacking in so many areas simply because Hallmark decided today was a good day for it?

Today, I am wishing myself mother's day. I made myself a beautiful breakfast and wrapped my hands around a warm cup of licorice tea. My children are with their father today as Sunday is the day he has them, and he has not wished me a happy mother's day, nor has he ever honoured my role as a mother. He was unaware it was mother's day so he did not plan to take the children on a different day. I wouldn't expect consiousness, though, so I am not disappointed!

So I am honouring my motherhood. I am remembering the beauty inherent in me as a mother. I am looking at photographs of my belly growing ripe with my son, giving respect to the journey that motherhood has taken me on, giving thanks to myself for doing everything within my power to be a wonderful mother. I had an awful role model and yet I have managed to develop into a loving, caring, passionate mother who isn't afraid to hold her children close to her heart.

I am going to watch a movie, read a book, eat some soup and enjoy my day. I am going to give thanks to my wobbly tummy for helping cradle two small people as they grew strong enough for this world. I am going to watch my birth dvd's and remember the moment when I first touched my children. I am going to pat my own back and sing my own praises, and I am going to continue to be the best mother I can.

Because sometimes, the best mother we can ever have is our self.

Guest Blog: Parenting without vaccines

By Sarah Sparkles- mama to a girlie aged 8, a boy aged 2 and one on the way.

Before becoming a parent I trained as a nurse and practised for some time, mainly in the mental health field; I loved my job but the politics were getting to me. It felt very strange administering drugs, then going home and using homeopathy! I have a disease called Perthes in my hip- this means essentially my hip is undeveloped and can cause me a great deal of pain- I've always been medicated in one way or another and I've always felt a resistance to it. When I was in my teens I started to look at other ways of managing health and I was convinced there just HAD to be another way to get through my life without codeine rotting my organs! I found a holistic practioner who was happy to realign my spine and pelvis (as I walk with a very slight limp which gets pronounced when I'm tired). My parents were convinced I was bonkers for a while; they let me try alternative therapies but were soon tired when I wasn't conforming to their idea of treatment, despite the obvious fact I was happy doing better and not half high on vast amounts of painkillers. I was very worried that by the time I was 30 my liver would pack up- never mind the fact that I was already taking massive doses at just 16.

My consultant was amazingly receptive as Perthes is not a common disease- his sole request was that I go in to be monitored for ways to help others too; he was brilliant and pointing me towards NHS services that are so called unconventional. At nearly 30 it's stabilised and I don't use any drugs and haven't for years.

When I left home at 17 I started to flower within myself; for so long my personal philosophies were suppressed and as time went on I found it really hard to nurse and be myself.

At just 19 I found out I was pregnant with my daughter- sadly things didn't work out with her father and we parted. Frightened and very depressed, I found the whole thing very hard to manage; the fear from the midwives that I'd not be able to carry to term because of the hip issue, the agonising pain as I progressed through my pregnancy, soon I was swamped with "help" and once again my notions were dismissed as madness.

They intially wanted to do a planned cesarean section as they just weren't sure how my pelvis would expand- if at all! I found an advocate to at least let my pregnancy go on and plan closer to the time of birth, I really was so sure I wanted to deliver vaginally. Three weeks before my due date my labour started. I was at home alone and very very frightened of all the tales about how it "had been the worst pain of your life/ the most horrendous day/episiotomies/tears/botched/forceps/placenta left in".... No-one had a good word to say about giving birth, I had planned to just let things roll and take on one pain relief option bit by bit- I had a TENS machine but within a few hours I had rung an ambulance- my contractions were on top of another. My daughter arrived on the sofa with just gas and air and I felt joy! It did hurt, I did tear a tiny bit- but it wasn't what they all said... I felt like a goddess!! We went to hospital and later discharged and I started to re evaluate my thoughts- what else were they wrong about?

I started to breastfeed but the help was poor; my mum truly finds it sexual and spent a LOT of time telling me not to do that in front of my father... My sister had never even considered there was another way to feed other than a bottle and so I had no support beyond a few weeks- soon my confidence slipped when she ws feeding lots; I thought I wasn't making enough- and then the nagging started that I wasn't being fair and I was being a martyr so the formula came out. I was feeding her in secret at night when no one knew. I didn't even tell the health visitor - I don't know why but I started to believe I was wrong, the saddest part is that if I'd have said something I would have known she was a HUGE advocate for breastfeeding but didn't need me to feel bad for my choice as she could see I was already teetering.

Then the vaccination schedule started- I didn't feel quite right.

I allowed oral Polio and then was persuaded to give the diptheria. This was at the time of the MMR debate and I had started back to work so I was privvy to how scared the NHS was; this made me question why they were so frightened if it was so safe. I started to look into it all and decided to hold off,she'd been SO ill with a tummy bug after the last vaccine I didn't want to carry on she has always been a tiny thing and couldn't afford to lose an ounce. Dr was not happy and voiced it to me but was open as well. We agreed to postpone. Indefinitely.

I never really said much to my parents knowing I'd be ridiculed, by now we were all but strangers.

Her dad and I had worked it out enough that we were on friendly terms and he still sees her often.

Time went on and my health visitor retired to be replaced by a lady that was pretty convinced I was a terrible mother and made it very clear. I did start to question myself,but by now my daughter was 3- a happy bright little thing had never been ill - the odd sore throat or a cough & cold type thing. That was enough for me. We moved house some 100 miles when she was 4- a new start, a new life. I'd had a late miscarriage and I needed to be away from everything, have some time out and move on.

Soon after we moved, my daughter caught chickenpox after going to a baptism. It was mild and a few days later she was right as rain! In 2008 my son was born at home. The midwife was great. He didn't even consider that I'd not breastfeed. As my son latched on for his first feed the midwife smiled at me and said "That is the best gift you can ever give your son." Family life settled in; Mark has always been very supportive of my choices and desires, simply making sure that everything else is done so I can just sit and feed. This time I was proud to shout out YES I'm breastfeeding- I don't speak to my family anymore. I just stopped calling, and so did they. I do often wonder what they'd make of my life!

I've had a few bad days where I'm knackered - I work as well by choice and necessity but I can look at my boy and know I am doing the VERY best by him. The health visitor popped by when he was 2 weeks old as is standard here; sadly I was hoping for 'wow, well done' and I got lots of 'how I could have more sleep and how selfish it is when dad can't feed' - I asked her to leave and not return.

Daniel has only been ill once- possible Rotavirus (he just breastfed lots, was sick when he needed to be sick, and I just worked with it- within a week he was back to normal.) I had shingles a little while back I was a bit worried as I was in my first trimester, but all was well. Daniel caught chicken pox from me - so mildly I only saw a spot in the sun! All he needed was some extra breastmilk and he was fine.(In the UK we don't vaccinate for chickenpox nor Rotavirus. ) Both children have been fit & healthy; both children go to groups and activities an awful lot and have never caught anything.

I don't really have a lot of friends; I find it quite hard to mix with people. I do genuinely enjoy my own company.

My girlie has 100% attendance record for school which she's very proud of and itching for a certificate!

I asked the midwife that attended Daniel's birth to be my midwife for this pregnancy as well he's quite happy to let me call the shots. He's never tried to persuade me to do anything and truly believes that we all have the right to informed choices. He was overjoyed when I said I was still feeding Daniel!

Overall I guess I've been quite lucky- I've met some resistance but not much.

On being a wetnurse.....

I've always been in childcare, from my beginnings as a babysitter in my early teens until now. I have always loved children- loved their innocence, loved their simplicity, loved their exuberance and acceptance and fearlessness.

I had read about women who breastfed other babies- I always considered it sort of peculiar. It made sense, but surely formula is just as good, right? Wrong.

When I became a mother, I continued to work privately, looking after children in their own homes. I couldn't tolerate the factory-style care in child care centres, where basic needs were met but there was little time for nurture, love, care or individuality. I loved forming a bond with the children I cared for, and this is difficult to do when you have 4 children under 18 months in your care, which is common in child care.

After my son was born, I continued to work, but I did not wet nurse. It was never something which entered my consciousness- why would I physically breastfeed someone else's child? I had a huge supply though, and after my daughter was born and I tandem fed my children, I realised I was capable of producing a lot more milk than most women. I sprayed milk everywhere whenever let down happened. I soaked through towels every night. I could hold a cup over my nipple while feeding only one babe, and I could easy catch 250ml pouring out. Forget breastpads, I soaked a hand towel on a regular basis.

When my freezer filled up with milk, I realised I should donate breastmilk or it would be going to waste (I went and had blood tests and got a clean bill of health first). So I gave it away whenever I could to the people around me who needed it. I donated to a woman interstate who had hypoplastic breasts. I donated when a woman I know was admitted to hospital suddenly and they could not admit her 3 months old baby- she was so dehydrated she was unable to make enough either. I donated to a friend in anticipation of her premature baby being born 8 weeks early so her premmie didn't have to be exposed to formula in NICU. I donated to a woman I didn't know a few suburbs away who has a tiny supply- she has since become my friend. I was in awe of my breasts- these amazing mammaries which could feed more than just my babies.

The first baby I wetnursed was the child I was donating to a few suburbs away; she came to collect the litres of milk I had stored for her, and he was hungry. She asked if I would feed him instead of using some of the frozen milk- so I did. It wasn't strange- it felt really normal, really natural. It felt right. I was starting to see just how beneficial this would be, and wondering why more women didn't do it. So many women are using formula to complement their baby's breastmilk- why not use donated breastmilk, or have another woman cross-nurse your baby?


I started work with a new family one day a week, and the mother was the first to broach the subject. I hadn't considered it before this- I had felt the urge, the instinct, to open my top when holding a crying baby, but I had never been asked to breastfeed someone else's baby directly. She was very casual about it, and I agreed. I began offering it to him in the middle of the day before his sleep, but he refused. One day he was upset, so I put him in a Mei Tai and he snuggled up to my chest. After a few minutes, he licked my cleavage. I whipped out my breast and left it there for him to access, and after a few minutes he latched on and drank deeply, falling asleep in minutes. Success! The next few times he smiled at my breast for a while first, as if discerning the friendliness of my nipple, before latching on and heartily drinking. Before long, he was actively asking for a breastfeed, coming up to my shyly and gently pulling on the neckline of my top. Whenever my daughter was breastfeeeding, so was he- soon he was having 3 breastfeeds a day.It felt lovely to be able to give this little person the perfect milk for him. (That is the prince himself, shown at right.)


I have now started wetnursing with a new family who have a 6 month old baby. I was hired because of my babywearing experience, childcare experience and attachment parenting ideas. The mother had never considered I would wetnurse her baby, but when she spoke to my reference (who is the same woman who encouraged me to wetnurse), she told her about the breastfeeding relationship I have with her child. She was quite shocked- wetnursing is now something alien to our society, whereas 100 years ago it was common practice. When I attended my interview, she discussed it with me. At first, she said she was quite 'weirded out' by the idea of me breastfeeding another person's child. It is a challenging thing to wrap your mind around in our homogenised society. She thought wetnursing was a bit strange. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. If her baby was distressed, I could comfort him in a way that holding and rocking never could. Expressing enough wasn't as much of an issue. If he wanted more milk than she had left, he has a fresh supply. Just because his mother had to return to work doesn't mean he misses out on breastfeeding while she is gone. Her comfort zone was challenged, her preconceived ideas about what was normal were questioned, and she came out the other side with a totally different view.

Society used to condone wetnursing- it was used in the case of ill women, mothers who died in childbirth, women without supply, the rich, the poor and everyone in between. Sisters, mothers, aunts, even grandmothers breastfed babies who needed to be fed. In ancient cultures, it was common to breastfeed any child you knew who needed to be fed. In indigenous tribes babies are fed by the village- not only does this help share the burden of childrearing, but it also gives children access to more antibodies than their mothers could ever provide alone. Yet our society has become one of people being afraid of others, of disconnection, of isolation. Our world is becoming more detached- we are encouraged to move our babies away from us, give our babies alternatives to nature, feed our children genetically modified foods and clean our houses with toxic chemicals. Our society is moving further and further away from being human, from connecting with nature and each other.

All children should be breastfed for a minimum of 2 years. When you look at the suggestions from the World Health organisation, you see that even they recommend wetnurses.

"For those few health situations where infants cannot, or should not, be breastfed, the choice of the best alternative – expressed breast milk from an infant’s own mother, breast milk from a healthy wet-nurse or a human-milk bank, or a breast-milk substitute fed with a cup, which is a safer method than a feeding bottle and teat – depends on individual circumstances." (W.H.O, http://whqlibdoc.who.int/publications/2003/9241562218.pdf)

Yet we live in a society where women would rather buy modified, sugared, powdered cow's milk to feed their babies because they simply don't consider there might be women out there opening their arms and their nursing bras to babies who need to be away from their mothers or who are born to mothers who cannot breastfeed. Women would rather feed their babies modified inferior milk from an unhappy, antibiotic-tainted cow than put out the call for breastmilk donors or a wet nurse. It isn't even considered an option. Other people's breastmilk is considered strange, gross, a bodily fluid. Our breastmilk is fine, but other people's breastmilk is just too foreign for many women to even consider. Why is this so? If a woman has had testing done, and eats a healthy diet, why wouldn't you choose her milk over that of a cow? With everything we know about how superior breastmilk is to any alternatives, why are so many women still turning to formula?

When I look at these two options if I can't breastfeed my child, I know which one I would choose.

If you have cross-nursed or wetnursed a baby, please feel free to share your story.