You are what you eat

To those expecting a nice, pleasant little update on the state of my bump, I’m afraid this post is going to disappoint.

Many moons ago, I did a personality test that, quite frankly nailed me. One of the things it said about me is that I am a ‘collector’, not just of things, but of knowledge. This has always stayed with me because it explained to me what I had always done naturally. Whatever I do, however I decide to do it, I can guarantee that I have spent a very long time looking at every available option. My utter determination to have a home birth might seem to some like the wafting of a tree hugging eco chick, but I can assure you, it is a decision based on hundreds of hours reading a large variety of sources and digesting what , to me, is best for my family and for me.

In the battle of the family, no topic is more hotly contested than the subject of how to nourish one’s baby, and I read something today which I wanted to share with you all. First I would like to say up front that I was formula fed from birth because my mum believes that her milk didn’t come in. That in turn has led to me wanting to breast feed my own child, but making cautious backup plans for the “best kind” of formula “just in case”. Basically, setting myself up to fail before I have even started.

I had never really appreciated that fact until I saw the words in this article written down in front of me.

The time and effort I had spent researching formula I could have spent gaining a support structure around me to ensure that I don’t fail in the first place. I am already on the mailing list for the local La Leche League, but they aren’t great until you have had your baby, so they’re on the back burner. That leaves the NCT, who Keith and I are booked in with in September to learn all the things that the NHS should be teaching us, if it had the money.

My own personal experience of Milk Companies very much mirrors the claims in the article. So far I have been signed up for the Cow and Gate Club, and received a soft toy cow from Aptimil along with some helpful information. Neither of which I have solicited. In contrast I have received precisely nothing about breast feeding other than wholehearted advocacy. What chance is there for us as a society in the face of this onslaught of glossy advertising?

Women have been sold the biggest pup in the history of the world if they believe that formula feeding is preferable to breast feeding – and we as a society should hang our heads in shame that we are allowing this to happen.

And the article in question: Well it can be found here http://www.theecologist.org/pages/archive_detail.asp?content_id=586 but be warned, it does not make easy reading.

On Getting Kicked

It appears I no longer have to wait until all is quiet to feel the daily workout of our little ankle biter and I get the feeling things will never be quite the same again.

I was in a meeting the other day when out of the blue, Maybe delivered the most god almighty WHACK to my insides. It wasn't something else (a bout of indigestion or a stray woodpecker for example) it was 100% kick, and it actually weirded me out a little bit.

I try not to think about these things too deeply, but if there is one thing that is going to take a little getting used to, it is the thought of an independent being using my insides as a playground. I'm not sure how other mothers have dealt with this issue, and I'd quite like to know, because surely I'm not the only one to think that the whole concept is just the teensiest bit odd.

In other odd news, Keith has once again managed to totally blindside me by rejecting my "eco disposable" choice for poop collection and opting instead for washables - yes folks you heard me, the man of the house doesn't want to throw the nappies away, he would rather scrape and wash. You heard it here first.

Turns out it has nothing to do with eco credentials, but more to do with the fact that it costs £2,000 to put a baby in disposable nappies and only £300 to use washables. You take the victories where you can though so we're going to visit Little Green Earthlets soon to buy a starter kit, and potenitally half the other things they sell if I get my way!!

Oh and not that we're looking forward to it or anything, but only 24 sleeps until the next scan!!!

Toofy Pegs and Facial Tics

No, it's not the new Oasis album, just more of the delights of pregnancy.

I have suffered really badly with my teeth in the last few months and I finally got over my 6 year dentist avoidance maneuver and went to have a checkup. Despite telling me that he liked nervous patients because they were easier to control (say WHAT?!?!?) the guy behind the mask wasn't too bad. He prodded and poked for a while and then declared all I needed was a course of medicated mouthwash and a clean. HUZZAH!! Unfortunately the mouthwash is actually a legalised form of torture as it works its way into all the exposed and sensitive little crevices of my mouth, but it will be in a good cause if it means I don't have to see the man again after next week.

The facial tic doesn't look like it going to be easier to get rid of, and is very, very annoying. I bet none of you would ever even notice it was there, but I can feel my left eye trembling and trembling, and trembling until I want to scream, or smack myself in the face, or possibly a combination of the two.

Ooh, in other exciting news, I think I had my Quickening this week. I'm not 100% sure but if I had to put my money on it, I would have said I had. Can I just say how much I love that word, quickening, it's such a fantastically archaic and evocative word. More to the point, and I don't know why I thought of this, it means that tradition now has it that I cannot be hanged in this country. Not that I was planning on being executed any time soon, but it's always useful to know these things.