Impressions- about feeding babies

 We bought our house in Virginia in 1983.   We knew we would be there for one year before renting it out.  And we knew we would be returning to that house, our home.

For the year we first lived there, I was very active with the local La Leche Leage groups.   I got to know a lot of LLL folks.

It was not surprising then, when we returned to Virginia in 1986, that I was invited to be a LLL Leader for a local group.   I remember going to lead at a local group- where I didn't know anyone (yet).    Everyone made their introductions and made a comment about how breastfeeding was going for them. 

We used to meet in people's homes. When it got to be the hostesses turn, she started crying and said she had to switch to bottle feeding because her baby was not gaining weight.    She was devistated.  She had attended LLL meetings all through her pregnancy.   She loved La Leche League.

I lost sleep thinking about this mom.  She and I spoke on the phone (a lot).  I decided to invite her to keep attanding LLL meetings.  She held her baby in a nursing position when she fed her.  She practiced attachement parenting.   She was one of the "League moms".

By the time this mom had her second baby, she was commited to try breastfeeding again.  This time, it worked out as she had hoped.  The baby was fussy and needed to be held a lot.  But breastfeeding worked.

The mom and I became the best of friends.   I invited her to become a LLL Leader, which she did.   

Our family went overseas again, but we kept in touch by email and even phone calls from time to time.

My family went to China, and, while there, pregnant with my fifth child, I gave birth two months early.

I retuned to the States with my failure to thrive preemie and my three year old.  My dear friend was there at the airport with some other of my LLL friends, to meet me.

Meanwhile, my friend had given birth to her third baby.  She was doing great.  Nursing was going well.

My preemie was not doing so well.  We realized that he needed to be supplemented.  I tried giving him formula- which I did NOT want to do.  But he needed to eat.  The formula made him sick.   

I asked my friend if she would be able and willing to share her breastmilk with my baby.  She and one other friend happly pumped their breastmilk and I was able to feed my baby and get him strong and healthy.

I was using a technique called "finger feeding" where I would put the supplemental milk into a periodontal syringe and when he sucked on my finger, I would deliver milk to him.  It was challenging at best.   

One night when I was completely exhausted, I put the breastmilk into a baby bottle and gave it to my son.  I was so conflicted.  I hated using a baby bottle and was sad that I was not about to completely feed him at the breast.  On the other hand, I was relieved that he was getting the food he needed in order to grow healthy.

I pumped my own milk and supplemented with donor milk from my two wonderful friends.   I often had to bottle feed the baby in public.  

I was reminded of all of the times I had judged moms for bottlefeeding in public.  I grew to understand that, while I know that breastfeeding is the best way to feed a baby, I do not know what is being fed in those bottles.  Nor do I know how the mom came to be a bottle feeding mother.    Maybe she was not interested in breastfeeding from the start.  Maybe she had difficulties, maybe it was her milk or donor milk in the bottle.  Or maybe she was the aunt, cousin, babysitter...

We are all so hard on ourselves.  But we are also too quick to judge others without knowing the whole story.

I am posting a picture here that I tried to share on a LLL page.  Many of the readers of the page were happy to see the post about acceptance.  But there were bitter complaints as well.

No, La Leche League is not a bottlefeeding support group.  We do not endorse bottle feeding.   But, while a picture tells a thousand stories, we cannot know what all of the stories are.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving

 I am sooo tired!   This year, Thanksgiving didn't feel as stressful as it has in the past.  I think that is partly because it was just family here and I was not really trying to impress anyone.   Everything went smoothly.   Food was good.  There were some minor flaws- like trying to make dinner rolls out of a pizza crust mix.   Not having a variety of salad dressings.  Just not really worrying.

I have been, however, worried about Courtney.   She had her thyroid removed to hopefully remove all of the cancer in her thyroid.   We were kept in the loop by Zach (Courtney's boyfriend) and Jenny, Zach's mother.  I am so appreciative of their support and love of Courtney, and also staying in touch with us.

Zach posted a silly picture of Courtney, post surgery, that I will post here:

Thanksgiving 2022

The "real" turkey turned out beautiful and delicious.   Austin was happy with his vegan version of turkey too.

I was happy to see Darcy and Jody and her kids.  The kids have grown since I last saw them, and Sebastian is now 13, and his voice is changing.   I had forgotten about that- all of my sons have men's voices now but they didn't always.

Courtney called to wish us a Happy Thanksgiving.  She said that Jenny, Zach's mom, came to Courtney and Zach's house and cooked dinner for them.   I am so grateful that she can stand in for me.

Jenny is going to the hospital with Courtney and Zach tomorrow.  Courtney is having her thyroid removed.   I am sorry I won't be there for Courtney, but I have to tell myself that everything will be fine.

Okay, another piece of pumpkin pie and then off to bed.

It's Thanksgiving again

 I think I try to write something profound on Thanksgiving every year.  Why should this year be any different?  

We bought a turkey that was labeled "12 lb.", but it looked much larger.   Nick weighed it using our luggage scale and found that the turkey is in fact just over 22 lb.  

Luggage scale 

Big difference.  All of the turkeys in the bin said 12 lb.   Maybe that was so they would all sell.  Or maybe the labeling machine was malfunctioning.   Either way, it makes a big difference in how long the bird needs to cook.

The turkey is now in the oven.  It has a shroud.   I learned this from my sister;  melt a pound of butter in a sauce pan.  Put in a big piece of cheesecloth and let it soak up the butter.  Then drape the cheesecloth over  the turkey- pouring any remaining butter over the turkey.  It makes for a delicious and beautiful turkey.

turkey with shroud 

I could not remember where we had put the big, blue roasting pan.  I honestly thought I would have to run out and buy a disposable on so I could cook the turkey.  Then, this morning I looked one more place- under the shelves back in a corner in the pantry!   

Hurray for Grandma Sherwood's old, blue, roasting pan!

We will have gluten free stuffing, vegan stuffing, gluten free pumpkin pie and vegan pumpkin pie.

The house is starting to smell good!  I am going to put my feet up for a while!

Morning Sweeping- something I wrote in college

 Nancy Sherwood

 

Ms. Horan

 

English 396

 

March 18, 2002

 

 

Morning Sweeping

 

 

The last one is out the door.  That’s my eleven year old.  His yellow bus has driven off with him, so I turn back into the house and look critically at everything.  I wonder where to start.  Ever the procrastinator, I start with a cup of hot coffee and the morning paper.  My ritual involves reading the Metro section, first for the snippets about the area-accidents and murders mostly, divided up by state and the District.   Then on to the obituaries.  I feel somehow vindicated when someone has lived a long life and left many survivors.  And I feel sad if there are “no known survivors.”  

Folding up the newspaper I stack it onto the dividing wall, straightening the pages my husband has read.  He folds them unevenly.  It’s like origami to me. Next I empty the dishwasher putting everything that is shiny clean in its place.  I wipe off the place mats, getting the wet cereal off before it hardens and needs to be chiseled off. Can’t stack wet place mats, so I put each one on the chair at its own place.  Spraying the table with Murphy’s oil soap I smile.  The smell is just the right smell for cleaning a wooden table.  A kitchen table anyway.   Wiping and washing.  The dirty dishes have been put into the dishwasher, I wipe the counter.  Wiping the clean back into the surfaces and smelling the clean too.  It’s my aromatherapy.  Next comes the floor.  I sweep all the dust, crumbs, dog and cat hair and all of the debris of everyday living that goes on in this kitchen.  I make little piles of fluff with my broom.  The bristles bring out surprises from under the stove and the refrigerator.  A permission slip that sneaked under the fridge flies out when the bristles slide past.  An old dead piece of potato has been living under the stove until my broom brings it forth too.  It is hard to get anyone to understand the peace and joy in seeing the debris that I sweep up and toss out.  I find it a small but very real satisfaction.  The broom and dust pan are my tools.  The house, my home, is my palette and my tools help me make my art.  

I fill the kitchen sink with hot water and ammonia and get the mop.  The sponge on the mop is hard and dried out, the water revives it and it goes to work.  Skating across the floor making wet places.  My own Zamboni of sorts.  I drive the mop.  Make a clean streak.  Put the mop in the sink and squeeze out the dirt.  Over and over I pass the mop until the whole floor is clean.  I admire the dirty water in the sink.  I thrill at the dirt swirling away.  I feel so at peace with this clean space.  

I sit down and feel calm and full and harmonious.

 

 

---

My published/ printed blog

 

I took these pictures to show the scale of my blog books.  They are 12x9", hard cover and heavy!  Six volumes- so far!!!

What a week it has been

 Austin texted me that he was feeling really sick.  Pain on the right side.  Weak, throwing up a bit.  I told him to get to the hospital in case it was appendicitis.  He went and had IV fluids and got blood taken.  He had a CT scan that determined that it was not his appendix but colitis.

So, I flew up to Maine to help Austin out.  It wasn't his appendix, but he was sick and I wanted to be there.

I rented a car and drove from Portland, Maine where the airport is, to Warren, where Austin lives.   It was an hour and a half drive in the dark in Maine.  Much of it on rural roads.  In fact, when I got to Austin; s street, I passed his house.  I noticed the numbers on mailboxes getting higher and turned around and found it.  There are no street lights on those country roads in rural Maine.

We sat and watched TV. I had brought some packaged oatmeal and some instant coffee.  Those mixed all together with peanut butter and boiling wanted made a good breakfast for me.

Austin was not sure if he had sheets for the bed in the guest room, but he found some.  He also has an electric blanket- which was much needed in his old, not very heated house .

Austin had been planning to come to Virginia for Thanksgiving, driving and bringing Molly, his cat.  His car is in the shop, and with Austin not feeling that great it seemed like a better idea for Austin and I and Molly to fly back together.

Well, we got to the airport too late for our luggage to be checked.  We were offered a later flight, but really did not want Molly to spend too much time without food and water (and kitty litter) in her carrier.   So, Austin and Molly went on the flight we were supposed to be on together.  I caught a later flight that went from Portland, Maine to Newark with a lay over of an hour or so, then on to Dulles.

I think Austin  and Molly got in about 3 or 4 hours ahead of me.   My flight got in closer to midnight.  Since I was wrestling with my suitcase and Austin' suitcase, plus my purse, backpack and my cane, I was ever so grateful that Austin and Nick picked me up!

It sure felt a lot busier, and more stressful than what I just wrote!

Molly in her carrier

Before leaving, I ordered my blog to be made into book form.  It's something I have thought about many times.   I bit the bullet and did it.  The six, hardback volumes of my blog arrived this evening.  I am really happy with how it turned out!

Volume VII

 I have ordered printed copies of my blog, which will come in six bound volumes.  I am excited and looking forward to seeing how it all looks.

I have been wanting to do this for a long time, and now it's been done.

I am labeling this post so I will know where to start the next volume if I choose to do that.

throw back to 2000

 

Election Day

By Nancy Sherwood ©

November 7, 2000

 

(Before we knew how long it would take to have a new President)

 

I am emotionally and physically exhausted. Today I worked as an Election  Officer. We arrived at the polls at 5:00 AM to get sworn in and set up the  machinery. The polling place I worked at was Armstrong Elementary School in  North Reston. We all left after 8:30 p.m. At my polling place there were about 15 of us Election Officials.

 

 I won't go into tedious detail of all the things we all did today at the  polls. There were some people who were irate that at the busiest times they  had to wait for 45 minutes. There were those young people who are just old  enough to vote in their first election. There were the newly naturalized US  citizens who were also voting for the first time. The Chinese couple who  took pictures of each other going into the voting booth and asked an  election official to take their picture. The Iranian man who said he hopes  that one day Iran will have free democratic elections. The recently married  women who were not sure if they were still registered in their maiden name  or their new name. The young mother with her four day old baby and the  pregnant woman who was supposed to be on bed rest (she got to go to the front of the line). The little children who were so excited to be able to  go into the voting booth with their parents. The autistic young man who's  father helped him vote. The woman with her elderly mother who asked me to  help her mother keep from falling over while she voted. The husbands and  wives who saw that their spouse had already been there- or not.  The widow, voting for the first time as a widow seeing the absence of  her husband’s  name, another reminder of the permanence of his death.  The woman  in the wheel chair- we have adjustable voting booths to accommodate. The  blind man who's assistant helped him. The eight grader taking pictures of  his mom going into the voting booth and coming out- a Social Studies  assignment. .  

The smiles of satisfaction. The people saying how proud they were to be  able to vote. Everyone wanted a sticker that said "I Voted".

 

 My children came to see “Mom the Election Official”.  What better way for them to learn than seeing democracy at work.

 

 I stood for hours. My back and feet hurt. I sat for hours looking up names  and checking them off. My eyes hurt. My face hurts from smiling at so many  wonderful people. All of us working today were totally exhausted and yet  exhilarated at the same time. None of us took very long breaks for lunch or rest. We could have, but we all shared the feeling of being a part of something important and didn't want to miss a minute.

 

 I don't know if my candidate will win. Yes I do care. But I know that I  did my bit. I have so many choices and such freedom as an American that I  count myself among those lucky enough to call this country my home.

 

Am I pooped? You bet. Would I do it again? In a heart beat!

 

Autumn Leaves

 The leaves are always so beautiful in the fall when they change colors.  For some reason, the leaves seem brighter this year.

Generations / ages and stages

 

I have been thinking about my friends, mainly women I have become friends with through La Leche League.

I became a LLL Leader in 1979 and had a co-Leader in Maryland.  Then we moved to Poland.  I was not able to be an active Leader there.  But we used to go to Berlin (West Berlin back then)  and I met with a couple of LLL Leaders there.  One was a US Army spouse and the other was a permanent resident of Germany-and an opera singer.

Anyway, I was going to write a long dissertation on all of my LLL co-Leaders.  But that's not the point I am getting to.

When I started in LLL I had one child, Courtney, who was a baby.   With each baby I got more involved and met more moms and LLL Leaders.   Here in the US and overseas.

For more than 20 years now I have been in an online group of "older" LLL Leaders.  Of course we were not so old when we started out.  But we were not in the diaper/ potty training stages.

And I find myself thinking and wondering which of my LLL friends know which others.   My LLL friends from earlier on knew me when I was nursing babies and when I was pregnant.  Others know me as a mother of young kids and toddlers.  And now, I am as old or older than the mothers of my LLL friends.

It is an evolution of sorts.  Being a nursing mom sharing and teaching other young, new, nursing moms.  A mom of school age kids who are still in the home and young enough for the moms of babies and toddlers to relate to.   

Becoming an international board certified lactation consultant (IBCLC).  Credentialed.  A professional.

Then college aged kids, married kids, adult kids.  In my 60s.  Almost 70.  I am no longer "one of the moms".  I don't go to play groups.   I am more of a teacher and mentor.    

But through it all, breastfeeding and parenting and supporting and teaching are a big part of who I am and what I care about.

I am retiring from the lactation consulting.  My credential  expires in June 2023 and I am not re-certifying.   I have not actually worked as a professional very much in the last 8 years or so- ever since my brain surgery in 2014.  I feel like I should be sad.  But I am not really.

I still plan to help educate and support moms and babies as a La Leche League Leaders.   It's who I am.

Feeling a bit better

 Iam not 100% better, but so much better that I have been for the last few weeks.

It's late and I am going to bed.  More tomorrow

Pain sucks

 I am in the throughs of yet more oral surgery/ mouth full of stitches/ liquid diet.   I have several types of pain medications.  I write down what I take and when so I don't take too much of the wrong thing.

Mostly it works, but every so often the pain just really throbs and I use ice packs to keep the pain away as much as possible.

I usually fall asleep at night without too much trouble.  But than I wake up once the medication wears off- in pain.  I have generally been getting up around 5:00am.   Then I am tired all day.

I eat soup. Sometimes I dissolve crackers in the soup so I feel like I have something solid in my stomach .  I make smoothies with frozen fruit and yogurt.   I might add oatmeal or Cheerios for bulk I guess.  I have to pee a lot/ frequently.  I understand why babies need to eat so often. 

I think I will try taking a nap now