MILK ALERT!

This is one of the reasons why I am so thankful Oona was breastfed during her infancy and how I'm hoping I can still continue being her milkmaid. Right now, Oona is mixed-fed, leaning more towards formula (SAAAAAAD MOMMY LAYA!) and solid food. I'm nearly dry now, but for 6 months she was exclusively getting her food from me.

One thing I truly regret now from being a working mom, was that my milk supply began to suffer because I couldn't feed her on demand. Back then I had a stressful job that had me in the office during the day and well into the night. Sure I pumped like mad and made sure my Medela PISO (Hehehe! No pun intended!) paid for itself, but not having Oona around to encourage the let-down made all the difference. So my milk went down eventually, that at eight months, she was having more and more formula because I couldn't keep up. By ten months, when I finally resigned from work, my milk was truly down since she also ate more solid food as well. I felt worse because just when I could be with Oona all day to respond to her needs, I had less milk to give her and she needed less as well.

At thirteen months, Oona still turns to me for comfort feeding at night. For me, it's an affirmation that we still share that bond and I treasure it more than ever! She still wouldn't accept a bottle from me and would only consent to my giving her formula when she's really hungry. Yes she's used to accepting a bottle from her Dad, her Grandma or her Nanny Rina, but not really from Mommy. I'm glad she expects me to satisfy her need for sustenance and comfort, but it breaks my heart not to be able to give her as much as her little tummy needs now.

Her pediatrician recommended Nan HA1 when she started formula feeding. According to my research, NAN H.A. (Hypoallergenic) with Protect Start^TM/ /Protect Plus^TM has added probiotics ("good" bacteria) that helps create protective intestinal flora like breastfed infants have. It promotes gastrointestinal health, helps reduce the incidence of diarrhea and has easily digestible proteins that helps reduce the risk of allergies. So far Oona liked it and has been on Nan ever since.

She then graduated to Nan HA2 which for awhile concerned us because we couldn't find it in Waltermart where we shopped. It turned out that they just changed the HA to HW, but it's still the same banana. It's getting harder to find though since the demand's high and we have to go all the way to SM Supermarket just to find Nan HW 3, which she's on now because she's past 1 year old.

The growing unavailability got me alarmed too, especially since China's milk crisis. I had to go online to check if Nestle was affected. I know Switzerland is far from China, but who knows how far these things go, right?

Apparently, all milk that was manufactured anywhere else except China is safe. Nan HA 1 and 2 are from Switzerland and Nan HW 1 and 2 are from Germany and they have passed safety and hygiene tests. Other milk manufactured here in the Philippines are also safe like those from Mead Johnson, Wyeth and Abbott and no raw material for these products come from China.

At least, knowing Oona's safe has given me room to breathe a sigh of relief. For now. That is, who's to say it can't happen again? If not the chemical scandal that China's facing now, what about another form of contamination? There are periodic recalls, protests, boycotts and the like all across the baby milk brands. From metal particles to dioxin, packaging problems to chemical imbalances in the formulation, making baby milk is very sensitive business.

It's not just China who has a problem. Nobody's really safe and I may just be a paranoid mother here, but I'm scared because this is my child we're talking about. I would be lying through my teeth if I said I was primarily scared for everyone, but having your own child makes you a little bit selfish that way. I wouldn't want to be the mother of one of those kids who developed kidney failure and died or is now seriously sick and hospitalized from melamine in a brand I trusted. My guilt would be too great, eating me alive.

My child trusts me to make decisions for her well-being and health. She trusts me to raise her as a healthy, human being. And because of that trust, she will take what I give her. I fear the day then that through this trust, that nobody should ever violate (especially me, her parent), she would be taken ill or die. I feel for those mothers and fathers, it is not their fault and should never have been their burden in the first place. They could never have known that the trust they gave their brand would be violated, in effect violating the pact they had with their children. I can only barely imagine their pain, anguish and rage.

Yes, now I truly wish I could produce milk again for Oona, if only to beat a scare I never thought of. Breastmilk is truly the best food for our babies. It's pure, unadulterated, and perfect . . . just as Mother Nature intended specially for us. But if we can't and need something more for our children, may we be saved from the heartache China's parents are experiencing now.

WEAR YOUR BABY 3: BABY CARRIERS

BABY CARRIERS

The best example of a baby carrier with a frame would be the American Indian papoose. It has a frame, straps and paddings.

Whenever we'd go malling, we tried using a similar, modern carrier and pouch. An inherited pouch was big and I personally felt it was too stuffy for Oona.

It isn't as comfy as a papoose would be. I was afraid she'd get crushed or something. Of course though I know it might be safe and even comfy for her, I'm a new mom and I'd rather err on the side of caution.

We were able to use this carrier when Oona was older but the straps, buckles and clasps were so fussy to put on that either she or RF would start getting cranky and we'd end up leaving the contraption at home.

We also felt that the paddings and the cloth was way too thick and hot for Oona. On a nice, cool day, we'd find her fussy in the carrier because she would be all sweaty. We were concerned she'd get sick and/or develop rashes so that plan went out the window quick.

We tried using this again now that Oona's bigger, but the straps and the general placement of the whole thing on me wreaks havoc on my sciatica and balance. Not to mention that it's still too fussy to put on.

We found another papoose-like pouch in the supermarket.

Honestly, we weren't supposed to get another one because RF was swearing off pouches as an un-needed expense and carrying Oona made less of a hassle than putting on a carrier.

On the other hand, RF was also starting to feel Oona's weight cramping his arms. I saw it was lighter and cheaper than the pouches we saw in the department store so I just snuck it into the grocery budget. If it didn't work, it wouldn't be too much of an expense. Amazingly, it was sturdy and both father and daughter seemed to like it!

The down-side to it was that it only came in one size and the straps couldn't fit me. So boo! for that. At least, Oona was more comfortable in this one than the first carrier.

It was sadly fast outgrown. But since it didn't cost an arm and a leg, we didn't have much regrets. We also felt that it was well used. After a few months, the snaps and the straps were getting to be too tight on Oona and kept popping open. This time, I was afraid that Oona might suddenly wiggle free or slip through the pouch onto the supermarket floor. I wasn't keen on proving that she was a bouncy baby girl that way.

So the hunt for a "perfect" baby carrier began.

Next: Baby Slings

WEAR YOUR BABY 2: A HISTORY OF CUDDLING

Baby wearing has been around since women figured out that they can multi-task. (I say this as a woman explaining to the men out there reading this.) Think about it. We needed to tend to the fire, wash clothes in the river around the corner (turn left at the two big trees), prepare and cook the game our cavemen brought us, and who knows what other chores our ancestresses had? Later on, we needed to tend to the fields and herds. All the while, we couldn't leave our young all alone to fend for themselves while we did what we had to do. Besides, baby formula hadn't been invented yet. So, being the enterprising creatures we are, we had no other alternative but to bring our babies along and invent something that would enable us to use our hands but keep the baby close to us.


Today's population can credit the endurance of the species to ancestors who worked at survival with their babies strapped to their bodies. All over the world, evidence of baby wearing can be found among people as far removed culturally and geographically from each other. Among the top examples would be the Egyptians, the American Indians, the Chinese and other Asian tribes. Now, a growing number of people are beginning to largely practice it again, with a few modern day improvements.




Local History

From the mountain tribes to the low-land ricebowls and the sea-dwelling fisher-folk of my country, baby wearing is a deeply ingrained part of our heritage. I only regret that I can find few pictures to better show it, but our children have been raised as close to the bosom as possible.

Historically, this is largely by necessity as parents work hard for the family's daily bread or tend to other familial chores themselves and there are no nannies. Sure there are other relatives the children can be left with but babies are generally never far from their mothers, especially when they are not weaned from their mothers' breast yet.

Nowadays of course, there is a decline (compared to the numbers back in the day) in baby-wearing with the advent of nannies and other care-giving amenities (the bassinet, the breast pump, the baby formula, etc.). Parents can work while not worrying about whether their baby has enough milk at home.

However, my present culture is still not that far in time from the old days. Westernization did not happen for my country until just recently (if you can call a few hundred years "recent"). And with the West's dawning consciousness of natural family living, of which attachment parenting is a part, it just seems right that I would look to affirming my child-rearing inheritance. (Naks!)

Next: WEAR YOUR BABY 3: Baby Carriers

WEAR YOUR BABY!

I know it sounds like I'm talking about a fashion accessory. But really, when we're talking about attachment parenting, wearing your baby is a part of it . . . and why shouldn't be tradition be fashionable?

The Why!

I wanted to have a baby carrier early on because I wanted to be as mobile as I could be. I was also still feeling weak and afraid I might drop Oona with the exhaustion I was feeling from too little sleep and general fatigue. However, I wanted to keep carrying Oona around while I was doing stuff around the house or if I was going out to the grocery. I wanted to be as close as possible to Oona with my hands free.

We also noticed that Oona seemed to be less fussy, nods off quicker and sleeps better whenever she was carried. We know it's because the rhythm of walking around mimics the motion she was used to in the womb and the heartbeat, no matter how faint, is a comfort. There's also the warmth and feeling of security she gets whenever she's close to us. And for RF and me, there's that warm fuzzy feeling of being able to provide for that kind of well-being.

Another cause for concern for me was that I felt that my hips and my back weren't like what they used to be. It was only later on that I found out that I had a mild form of sciatica from my pregnancy. Bending over to pick her up or carrying her would sometimes cause me to have stabbing pains that I was afraid I would drop her one day. I would feel like I was locked in place by the pain.

My center of gravity wasn't totally restored either so I was always off-balanced. With my hands free and Oona strapped securely to me, I would be able to better maneuver in case I should fall. That was what I was thinking then, but god forbid should that have ever happened and I fell on Oona instead!!! Que horror! (This is why most of the pictures are of RF wearing Oona more than me!)

The Make-shift Sling

What also worked for us when Oona wasn't sleeping through the night yet (and wanted to be held ALL NIGHT or be as close as possible to me or RF) was we'd swaddle her and wrap her securely to our chest with a thin blanket. We were wearing her to sleep, so to speak.

I wasn't afraid I'd roll over her or suffocate her. I was virtually bolted in place by the pillows all around me and the weight of the baby on my chest. She woke up periodically to nurse and her movements would immediately wake me up. I'd then loosen the blanket-wrap, give her a feed and put her up on my chest again for her to burp and go back to sleep.

For RF, coming from night shift, it was also to ensure he didn't drop her while spending quality time with her before nodding off for his own dose of the Zzz's. He'd be so tired that he would fall asleep in the middle of a lullaby he was signing. I'd find them sleeping together this way, surrounded by pillows and I wouldn't have any space left. I'd sleep on the bottom half of the bed or in the couch on the living room. Good thing we invested in comfortable furnishings!

Oona also seemed to have less reflux and wasn't colicky at all. She slept longer and woke up a nicer baby. She used to wake up with a vengeance when she sensed she was not wedged or warm enough to indicate a human body was right next to her.

We weren't confident to try the make-shift blanket wrap outside the bed of course. We weren't playing with a doll!

Next: WEAR YOUR BABY 2: HISTORY

THE FIRST NINE MONTHS: THINKING ABOUT PARENTHOOD

RF and I didn't plan on becoming a couple. Nor did we plan to become parents. We wanted to have children but were unsure as to if and when we'll actually have them. I was more unsure than RF but towards the end of our first year of marriage, I was already thinking about it. We weren't using protection or any method to avoid pregnancy, but we weren't really going for gold.

I found myself looking at my tummy in the mirror sometimes. I was thinking how my belly, full with child, would look like. Of course, later on I would be sadly disappointed and would shy away from pregnant belly portraits that's still all the rage today because I just looked like a very fat woman who waddled like a very fat duck. But I wouldn't know that then!

I was fantasizing about what I would wear, recalling how my mom would look in her nice, long shifts. Nevermind later that I couldn't possibly wear her old preggy stuff. I was too large and overheated that I wanted shorter, lighter dresses with a bit of cleavage (Ha ha!).

True, fashion concerns are not the meat of it. But everything, no matter how seemingly trivial it is, matters. It contributes about how you feel about the whole thing.

One of the very few things we thought about before we actively tried to have Oona, was if we were ready for parenthood. As individuals, as a couple . . . was our marriage ready to welcome the responsibility and strain of raising another human being?

We had our fights. We had our preferences. We enjoyed our lifestyle. Was our lives big enough to share with someone else?

It does sound selfish, but they're actually realistic and honest questions I felt I had to answer. I wanted the chances of regret anytime in the future to be significantly small. Whether I wanted to or not, I didn't want our future child/children to consciously or subconsciously feel in any way that I blamed their birth for anything I might miss out on.

Exploring my feelings, I knew my life would change profoundly after having a child. I knew there were a lot of things I wouldn't be able to do anymore and a lot of things that would remain dreams. I would give up things, miss out on things and maybe regret things.

What about my career? I felt like a hotshot, with the world at my feet. I had so many dreams, plans . . . isn't motherhood going to stifle me? Wouldn't it hold me back? I run with the wolves, outstripping bulls and facing down everyday mayhem. I loved that life! What would happen to me when I suddenly stopped?

I felt a part of me would die but I had to face and deal with it, lay it to rest for my child's and my sanity's sake. I've read far too many disgruntled mother/housewife stories to want that for myself. Although I have no illusions about the future, even then, I would make damn sure I don't end up unhappy at the very least.

Me, as mother, being unhappy would affect how I would be as a Mom and a wife. I don't want my kids to hate me or wish for a different mother. Which begs the question, what kind of mother would I make? I've heard too many stories of horrible mothers too. What if I wasn't meant to be a mother? I really didn't want to find out when I already had a child that I would be unable to care for and love! Needless to say, I had a lot of angsts.

RF was a lot easier. He swanned gracefully, almost without effort, into the role of Dad. I would say Fatherhood becomes him . . . even the impending Fatherhood gave him an extra Oomph!

We talked about how our plans for the future would change, little knowing that talk barely just covers the possibilities, but it greatly helps.

At least, we nailed down the basics:
1. We love each other no matter what.
2. We're in it together.
3. We'll do our very best, always to the best of our abilities.

There would be less dates, unplanned trips, splurges or even drastic career shifts. Everything would be revolving around the welfare of the child and family, more than the pleasures we used to fantasize about. Very practical, very discipline life, very safe and I feared, very dead-end for me.

Then one night, I was home alone as usual, RF being on his night shift. I realized that despite all this worrying, I was really giving the baby and motherhood matter serious thinking. I wasn't shying away from it at all. For me that was an indication that I cared about the life we were bringing into the family. Family! We were going to be a family, our OWN little fan's club! Terribly exclusive.

I laughed, then I cried. I suddenly felt that I wanted it to be real at that very moment. Did this mean that I was ready? Hahaha. Right. Knowing what I know now, nobody's ever ready for motherhood. I also still believe that there are people who can't be parents but now I know, I'm not one of them.

What I realized then was that my heart felt so full of love and the cup that RF and I share, doth runneth over. (Ugh! Cheeeeeese!!!) There's really so much love to give and it's such a shame to waste on what now look like trivial pursuits that wouldn't make a difference a hundred years from now.

***

A part of me did die, but it was a welcome death. What mattered to me was that I found that a whole new part of me sprung up to live. Being a mother had its own adventures and did I really mind giving up late nights, hungover-sick mornings and going home to an empty house?

There are a myriad ways to fulfill oneself. I still don't know how my life would find expression aside from being wife and mother, but I'm not afraid to find out. I'm actually excited.

But above all else, pouring the love RF and I share to this amazing little girl is all that truly matters to us.