River. I was just beginning to get hit by the all day nausea that blesses me in all of my pregnancies. Before this, I had been eating 3lb shank steaks as a snack. Obviously, my body was preparing to not eat for a few weeks.That was my belly on March 1, 2010. I was six weeks pregnant with
I wanted to share this photo with everyone. I don't have many from that pregnancy. I just have a couple of belly shots, showing wonderful growth, a picture of my positive pregnancy test and the picture the ultrasound tech gave me of my dead baby. I need to share some sort of photo with you. I need the world to see that she existed. She was real. In this picture, she was snug in my womb, safe and alive. Her growth was causing things in my body to move...making my little belly stick out like that. She caused my breasts to swell and my skin to clear up and glow. She was real. You can see that she was a part of my body then. Everything was hopeful and alive.
I have many anniversaries from that pregnancy. She was conceived in the first week of February - probably the 3rd or the 4th. The test turned positive on February 18th. There is this picture, taken on March 1st. Then there is today. March 13th. Two years ago today was the last day that I saw her alive. I was working and decided to pop the ultrasound probe on my belly. Not a good idea, don't do it. It was a bad pregnancy habit of mine. It wasn't the 1st time I checked for her. I had seen her a couple of times. Alive. Heart beating. March 13th...there she was. She was perfect for a nearly 8 week fetus. She was so much bigger than the last time I had seen her on ultrasound. Growing strong. Her little heart flickered the way it was supposed to. Fast. Regular. Perfect. I counted the beats. She was in the 150's. I felt a sense of relief. I put the probe away, wiped the goo off my belly and shut the machine off. I told myself I wouldn't do another ultrasound until about 20 weeks and I would get it done at the hospital. All was well.
March 15th. I was filled with so much anxiety. I felt a horrid little black rain cloud following me around. I tried to shake it away. I told myself everything was alright, but I couldn't focus on work. I did everything to get my mind off it. I went out for water ice to soothe my nausea. My car broke down. Ah, perhaps that was the anxiety - I sensed car trouble. Miraculously, my car started up again within minutes of calling the tow truck. I went about the rest of my day - dinner, belly dance class, bed.
March 16. I had my first prenatal appointment with my midwife. We discussed my plans. I was feeling super nauseous and even wore sea bands. My midwife was happy that I was so nauseous. I declined the 8 week ultrasound, explaining that I had done my own and that baby was perfection. I went to work that night and things proceeded as normal. I had a sudden wave of feeling very dizzy and very unwell. I told myself it was all normal ... I was even happy as it meant things were working. But, I got this nag. Something was telling me that I needed to check myself with the ultrasound. I tried to push it all down, but it didn't work. The nagging in my brain continued. I gave in and took a peek. We all know the story from here. I stared at that screen for so long, willing that flicker to start up again. I jumped up and down. I jiggled the probe on my belly. I prayed, begged and pleaded in my mind to get the flicker to start up again. But it never did.
March 30th - the follow up ultrasound to confirm what I already knew. A day where I was treated like some subhuman piece of trash without feelings. I'll never get over the way I was treated. Never.
April 1 - the day my midwife called after 8am and said, "it's just as you expected." I finalized my decision then to allow my body to miscarry naturally, knowing that it could take weeks of carrying my dead baby until my body and my heart were ready to let go.
April 18th - the day I finally birthed her into Heaven. My first homebirth, technically.
October 27th - her due date.
It's been two years of frequent spirals downward. This time of year is always hard for me because of the memories. It's hard to escape. I have a bunch of sad anniversaries coming up. I'll deal with them as they come along. Today, I'll remember that moment two years ago when my world was right. When I was standing on the edge of the cliff before starting my depressive free fall. Today I will focus on the memory of her being alive. I will keep that flickering heartbeat forever carved onto my own heart. She was alive.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Butter is one of those things that I am picky about. I buy organic most of the time. My first choice is organic butter from a local farm, but it's not always in stock. I'll buy organic at the grocery store, but sometimes I feel dirty because they usually only carry Organic Valley or other factory farm companies. I also like Kerrygold. It's butter from grass fed cows in Ireland. It's dang good. I can only find it at Trader Joes and, while this Irish girl fancies things from her ancestral homeland, the carbon footprint of having something flown across the Atlantic isn't a big selling point. And the price for some brands of homemade butter - oh my! We're on a pretty tight budget, so anywhere that I can save money is a giant help.
I knew in my head that you can make butter. I mean, duh, it's been around forever. Obviously people have been making it at home for centuries. I simply picutred a grandma sitting in a chair with an old-fashioned butter churn just churning for hours. I can't do that in my own kitchen. Though, it would be kinda cool. I decided to google it one night when I was unable to fall asleep. It turns out, making butter is kinda simple. I read a lot of pages, but most had the same advice. Shake or mix the hell out of heavy cream. You have butter.
I chose the shake method. This is probably the hardest method as it's labor intensive...sorta. You can use a mixer or even a blender, but more on that later. I chose to add heavy cream to a mason jar and shake away. That's it. That's all you do.
Here's what you need:
- Heavy Cream or Heavy Whipping Cream
- Mason jar or any glass jar with a wide mouth and a lid.
- Salt (optional)
- Willingness to look slighlty silly while shaking that jar like a fool.
Pour the cream into the jar. Screw the lid on the jar. Shake. And shake. And shake. Have you seen the commercials for the shake weight? It's just like that, only less assinine and pornographic. The shaking process can take anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes, depending on how much cream you used and how vigorously you shake. It's fine to stop and take breaks now and then. It won't hurt the butter. You can also pass it on to another person and take turns looking silly. This can be a fun activity for kids. Bonus: it helps them burn a little bit of that kid energy.
At first, all that cream will just coat the jar. It'll be easy to shake at this point. As the cream becomes thicker, the jar will feel heavier. You can open your jar and peek in. The cream will go from it's original state, to a thick whipped cream texture and then to a solid.
As it becomes a solid, the liquid will pull away from the sides of the jar and you'll hear it sloshing around while you feel the solid butter forming.
Shake it for just a little more. You'll eventually have a lumpy solid ball of butter that has separated away from the liquid (traditional buttermilk - not the same as the thick cultured stuff from the store).
Strain the buttermilk into another container and save for making pancakes or waffles. Dump the solid butter into a colander and rinse it with cold water. This just rinses the excess buttermilk off and helps firm up the butter just a little bit. And that's it. You can roll it into a ball, shape it into a rectangle, mold it into a bunny shape or leave it as a clump o' butter. Store your butter in a glass container or butter dish and enjoy! After refrigeration, it becomes just as firm as store bought butter.
This does not last in my house. I use butter for everything - baking, stovetop cooking, greasing pans, on breads, etc. From what I've read, it's shelf life is about 2 weeks. It does freeze well, however, so you can make a whole bunch and just pop what you don't need immediately in the freezer.
Now, I did say you can use other methods. So far, we have only done the shake method. If you want to try a mixer, just mix it on a slow to medium speed. The same process will occur. It will turn into a thick cream - just like making whipped cream - and then it'll just firm up and separate from the buttermilk. I have also seen a website or two that says a blender works well.
A word about the buttermilk. This is traditional buttermilk. This is not what we are used to buying in the store. It is thin and watery. The store stuff is thick as it's been cultured. You can still use this in pancake or waffle mixes.
I will update you all if I try another method. Right now, I'm enjoying my massively toned triceps.
This post is part of the Frugal Days, Sustainable Ways Blog hop, sponsored by Frugally sustainable.
The issue of men being somewhat competent humans has come up a lot recently. If you frequent the parenting blogosphere, you have likely seen the uproar over the Huggies commercial that suggested dads are the biggest idiots and the world would collapse if they were left alone with their children for one week. It's just another in a long line of ads featuring men being completely inept at anything domestic. You see it on commercials, shows, movies, magazine ads...anything where you can point out that their little Y chromosome turns them into knuckle-dragging dimwits. It's all for laughs, right? We love to point and giggle at your typical moronic TV dad. Sure, we all have our moments. We all have our weaknesses. Is it okay to relegate an entire gender to dumbass status? I didn't think so. What kind of message are we sending our boys.
Listen, there are things that my hubby does that make me want to kick him in the warm fuzzies. He opens the shower curtain the wrong way (it does matter, don't let him fool you). He stuffs things in bags and stuffs those bags in the corner of a closet when "cleaning." He pretends to shoot me when he farts. And, yes, he has called me at work to ask where our son's clothes were kept, despite the fact that they have been in the same place for the last 4 years. Is that because he is a man and all men are just morons when it comes to taking care of the kids and the home? Not likely. We all have our quirks. We all have things where we excel and where we "fail." And, frankly, I fart shoot him, too. This whole gender competition thing gets my ovaries in a bind.
Remember a few decades ago when women decided they didn't want to be house slaves and they wanted to make decisions for themselves, take the Pill, burn bras and be treated as equal?. Remember when the ladies were fighting to be taken seriously and treated equally? I am too young to remember the women's revolution, but I get the impression that women didn't want to be treated unfairly due to their sex. They wanted to make sure we were all equals. Sure, there are differences in the genders, and that's okay, but women didn't want men to have such a giant upper hand in all matters. Equality. That was the big word - and still is. Equality. We're still fighting for some equality in the country and all over the world, but it seems that we think it's okay to allow women to rise to the top by stepping on the men. We demanded that we be treated fairly despite our sex, yet now we are treating our men and boys unfairly because of their sex. We need to remember that feminism isn't all about gaining supreme power for women, it's ensuring that all human beings have equal rights. Hating on men doesn't make you a feminist. That just makes you an asshole.
This little rant today has been inspired by something I saw on Facebook. I'm not going to call anyone out, but one blogger asked her followers what they thought of male post partum depression. Quite a few women, most of them, answered that it's very real and it's misunderstood. That is so true. We know that mothers experience post partum depression (PPD) and post partum anxiety (PPA) due to the overwhelming changes in hormones, lifestyle, sleep patterns, nutrition, etc. While PPD/PPA are very real and should be talked about honestly, there is still an overwhelming lack of mainstream support and information. And it's pretty much never talked about when it happens to men. It doesn't get as much attention. We expect men to keep that stiff upper lip, keep working to support mom and kids and to not show much emotion other than adoration for mama and the baby. We seem to remove the humanity from men when it comes to the post partum period. We're all about praise for the guys who cook dinner, clean the house, change diapers (unless your Huggies - then you think the men will just let babies rot in their own feces) and all of that good stuff. We neglect to think that maybe, just maybe, these guys are a little overwhelmed. Sure, they aren't the ones squeezing a basketball through a straw or having their abdomens sliced open. They don't have the big waves of different hormones and they certainly aren't lactating. But, they're still human and humans come with emotions. While they may not have the same hormonal responses as us ladies, they definitely have their own chemical changes. They have fear, too. They worry about mom during pregnancy and in labor. I know my own husband was very nervous during my pregnancy and he worried a lot about the birth of each of my children. He had very real fears about something horrible happening to me while I was giving birth. Regrettably, I gave him crap about it. I told him it wasn't fair to constantly tell me he's scared because it would make me worry and it would have a bad effect on my birth. See? Even I make these mistakes. Really, how was that okay? Men are told to shut the hell up - BE A MAN, DAMMIT - and keep quiet about their fears so as not to disturb the mama. It may not be ideal for a guy to tell his wife he is afraid she'll die a horrible bloody death, but our society doesn't give men an outlet to voice these fears and get support. They're not going to ask questions like that at a childbirth class because they are too busy putting on a show of being a strong, fearless manly man. They have to keep the fears quiet. Men also worry about providing for their families financially. Often, women stay home for a little while after the birth as the men go right back to work (because our country has a fucked up family leave system) to earn that paycheck. Having an extra little human to support costs money, even if you're breastfeeding. Men take on a lot of the stress of providing the right amount of monetary support. Men worry if they can be good enough for their partners and their new babies. They don't want to let us down. There are so many things that race through the minds of our men when we welcome new babies into our lives.
Okay - so back to that post on Facebook. One of the responses was this: "myth... what do they have depressed for? no sex, less money? i would understand post pardom anxiety for men, but depression?" You could almost hear the collective thud of heads against desks across the nation. Now, she did clarify later on and said she was just stating that men enjoy that as an important connection to us. Still, it made me mad because that's part of the attitude towards men. People constantly comment that men only care about sex and money. We all know that men typically think about sex a little bit more than women. Still, that's likely not the first thing on their mind in the days and weeks following the birth of their children. The majority of men are very understanding and can handle the fact that the vagina may be out of commission for a while. Although men like that physical connection with us, they are not robots and they are able to find other emotional ways to bond with us. Honestly, the manly psyche is just a complicated as that of the ladies. Some of the wiring is different, but we are all complex emotional beings.
This brings me to my final issue, which is our boys. On the surface, we talk about raising sensitive and strong boys who will grow to be outstanding men. Underneath, we allow them to be put down all the time. When they watch TV or movies, they see the same recycled characters of bumbling idiot men unable to make it through life without the help of women. They are given the message that they, too, will grow up to be feeble-minded nitwits who won't ever be able to do anything right. We have spent so much time pumping up girls and screaming GIRL POWER at everyone - and rightly so - that we didn't realize we were stepping on the backs of our little boys. On any given week, I will see at least one little girl wearing a shirt that says "Girlz rule and Boyz DROOL!" or "My brother is stupid," or "Boyz Stink!" Those three are shirts that I have seen while walking the halls of my son's school. I have seen plenty of shirts, as well as notepads, stickers and the like, just like that while out and about at various locations. Now, if my son were to walk into a class with a shirt that said, "Girlz are morons," he would be sent straight home to change. It's suddenly become okay to allow this public shaming of our boys in recent years. What kind of men to you think they'll become if this is what they see on a daily basis?
We bitch and whine and scream about equality until we are blue in the face, yet all we seem to have done is shift the focus. For millennia, men have ruled the world at the expense of women. Are we simply going to try to get revenge? Are we now going to make our men and our boys suffer for the sins men who came before them? Is that progress? How is that any better?
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
And boy do I stank. No really. I stink post partum. I've heard this is common, so I'm not the only one. I'm sure it's related to the complete hormone seizure that takes place in our bodies after we have our babies. It's a nice kick in the vulva after we've given birth - here you are, leaking goo from your vagina, leaking milk, you haven't slept since Tuesday and you can't even remember where the shower and is and, on top of that, your body is going throw in a little extra fragrance just for kicks. I'm sure there is a perfectly wonderful evolutionary reason for it. It was probably to signal to other potential mates. The scent says, "Hey, this lady just had a baby. She is extra stanky. Do not try to make love sweet Neanderthal love with her." Really...I love the natural life and I think our bodies are amazing. There are so many things that our bodies are designed to do that just blow the mind. The subtle messages contained within our odors are part of that amazing design. But, again, I choose to mask those a little bit.
Like most Americans, I spent years using typical anti-perspirants from the store. I never thought twice about loading my pits up with the white stuff. Years later, information came out that maybe, just maybe, the aluminum which keeps perspiration at bay can be toxic to our bodies. I also learned that it's the aluminum in anti-perspirants that is responsible for the yellow stains under the arms of our clothing. Not cool. So, I switched to a more "natural" deodorant. Personally, there aren't many natural deodorants that I have liked. I find that they still contain other questionable ingredients, such as parabens, or that they plain don't work. Or, they assume that all of us hippie folk want to smell like a garden of patchouli, lavender and oregano. I have nothing against those scents. My dad uses patchouli all.the.time. I just don't like it on me. The only brand I have really liked is Bubble and Bee Pit Putty. There are no scary ingredients and they work with you to find a scent combo you like. However, like many other natural deodorants, it's expensive. I cannot afford $10.00 for deodorant at this point in time. So, I looked for other options.
A few weeks ago, I switched to just coconut oil. Coconut oil is antimicrobial and helps to kill the stank bacteria in your pits. It's also pretty soothing. I can easily become satisfied with just using coconut oil. However, I like to tinker with things and I like whipping up concoctions. I also wanted something that may afford me some wetness protection. In my research, I have found that the following will help keep some of the sweat at bay; arrowroot powder, cornstarch and baking soda. I just needed a recipe that included some combination of those.
I found a recipe on Naturally Knocked Up. The directions are as follows: