My four year old couldn’t wait to go back to school. Frankly, I encouraged the enthusiasm.
We had quite a busy summer (in much the same way that ants get busy once someone follows them around with a magnifying glass and sets their ant hill ablaze) and I think we could all use some back to school routine. He has a new backpack, new socks and a new outlook on life – mommy and daddy know nothing. But that’s another post. Continue reading
As many of you know, I have been doing my best to ensure that my son had 200 words by the time he was 2.
Thankfully he reached that goal. Continue reading
We are surprised that we could only come up with 10! Yes we have a ton of parenting pet peeves and as time passes and as we gain more experience as moms – each of us with two boys – the list sadly grows. Don’t get us wrong – we both adore being a parent, but there are just certain things that we just can’t stand. Continue reading
(Lights Up.)
Craving: Hello.
Me: Not now.
Craving: It’s me.
Me: Please don’t be cute. I’m very busy.
Craving: I wish we had a jumbo bag of jellybeans right now. We love jellybeans, don’t we?
Me: I’m working.
Craving: Did I mention they were at the store? You know, that Hasty Market down the street with its bright red lettering, the kind of red that embraces you, soothes you, entices you…
Me: Go away.
Craving: …Like McDonald’s red. We love McDonald’s red, don’t we? We’d eat a thousand bleached burger patties and five million not-chicken McNuggets if we could, wouldn’t we?
Me: Stop.
Craving: I know, I know, I digress. Back to jellybeans…
Me: …Please stop…
Craving: Fine. Be that way. We’d still have some left if you hadn’t hoovered the last handful on Friday.
Me: I ate until I couldn’t feel my tongue anymore.
Craving: I know. That was an awesome day. I gotta say, the cherry on top was that night when you ate your son’s leftover birthday cake.
Me: That cake was for everybody.
Craving: Oh yeah? Then why did you wait until everyone was asleep? Did your son even know it was there?
Me: He doesn’t eat cake.
Craving: Well, we’ll never know, will we?
Me: Did I mention I’m working?
Craving: Testy. You must be crashing. You need sugar. I think I saw cookies in someone’s lunch bag in the kitchen. You should do a walk-by.
Me: I can’t go into someone’s lunch.
Craving: Oh, that’s the line, is it?
Me: What do you mean?
Craving: You think I take a vacation from the Greek tragedy that is your brain? I see you empty buffet desserts into your purse. I see you eviscerate the vending machine when it eats your change. I don’t judge. I facilitate. And right now, I can tell you need sugar.
Me: I eat healthy!
Craving: You eat healthy portions, sweetie. I don’t see the “crap” category anywhere on the food guide pyramid.
Me: Maybe I’ll make tea.
Craving: Oh yes, make tea, that will totally hit the spot. “Candy” “Chamomile” – they’re practically related. Why don’t you swizzle a Mars bar in there just for me.
Me: Or some baby carrots?
Craving: Do you think I’m going to get quieter if you stuff me full of genetically modified beta-carotene?
Me: Okay, okay, maybe just once piece of chocolate.
Craving: See, that’s your problem right there. We both know that it’s never just one piece of anything. You know what? I’m taking over. I’m holding your self-control hostage. Feed me what I want or I’ll mail it back to you in pieces.
Me: Um…you’re not –
Craving: What’s that? Speak up, I can’t hear you over the sound of your stomach rumbling. I’m not what?
Me: (barely whispering) …You’re not the boss of me…
Craving: Oh really? Let me ask you this: who tells you it’s ok to eat half a bag of Oreos with your can of Zinfandel after a full day of managing two cyclones under the age of five? Who has broadened your palate and exposed you to the world of macarons and salted caramel? Before me, did you even know you could have chocolate and cayenne at the same time? Who soothes you late at night when you lie awake worrying about your finances, your family, your future? Me and Frito Lay, that’s who. I am your best friend. No, check that. I am your only friend.
Me: You make my pants tight.
Craving: It’s called elastic honey. They make pants that stretch now.
Me: I have a blap. My belly and my lap are one. I didn’t have that before.
Craving: Sorry, was there something you needed to tend to down there? Now you’re interested in grooming?
Me: I’m just saying, I don’t need to defer to your judgment all the time.
Craving: Pardon?
Me: I mean you are a friend, don’t get me wrong. I love when we hang out and I eat like a shark in a feeding frenzy and my eyes roll up in my head and then I black out. I mean, that’s fun and everything. But the next day I feel terrible and I feel like you’re the friend who secretly copies pages of my diary while I’m unconscious and pastes them all over the walls at school. You’re like a friend and then you’re the opposite. A frenemy.
Craving: So, where do we go from here?
Me: I don’t know. Maybe crave something other than food? How about sex?
(Pause. Both erupt into laughter.)
Me: (Wiping tears) Sorry, I couldn’t keep a straight face.
Craving: You almost had me!
Me: Haha, can you imagine?
Craving: So, about those jellybeans…?
Me: Yeah sure, I got you boo. Let’s eat until we go blind.
Craving: I love you.
Me: I know.
(Scene.)
Koryn with her clients
Few things are more truthful than seeing a child’s sheer terror or gripping fear of a dog. It breaks my heart every time. My niece was TERRIFIED of my husky/shep/collie. Clients have told stories of their paralysis around dogs due to their own personal fear as kids. In addition, I have worked hand in hand with families whose very own children were petrified at the mere thought of brining a 7 week old puppy into their home.
After years of working with dogs, and seeing various degrees of this scenario play out, I have good news … This fear, although very real, is also very fixable.
Top 10 Tips On How To Break Your Child’s Fear of Dogs:
#1Try not to shrug off this fear by suggesting that the doggie is friendly while at the same time nudging them towards a dog. YOU know and trust that dogs are beautiful animals whose primary goal is to illicit happiness and positive praise from their owner and those who are around them. Your child, however, has yet to come to that understanding, and if forced (although with good intent*) towards the dog, before he or she has time to process and change their mind, may never be able to break their fear.
#2: Take the time to talk to your child and understand where the fear is coming from. While in the understanding process, try to limit their contact with dogs just for the time being. For all you know it could something as simple as the movement of their tail OR on the other end of the spectrum, it could be a dog’s teeth and fear of bite. Whatever the cause is, if you understand it you will have a better chance of managing the exact fear when it actually occurs.
#3: Be sure never to let a dog barge at them while walking into a front door, while walking outside or while in a park.
#4: If you are going to a friend’s house, request that the dog be outside or on a leash when you get there. If you are at a park and you see a dog in the distance off leash, steer your child away from that space. If you’re walking on the street and you spot a really hyper dog who wants to jump to say hi, simply take the time to cross the road. Remember these are not forever instances; these are for the time solutions until the fear of dogs has subsided.
#5: Once the root of the fear is understood and clearly communicated, start with leash / waist training exposure. If your dog OR a dog whom you are going to see is attached to your waist on a leash, slow integration can begin.
#6: When a dog is on leash and your child is present, praise the dog for the good behaviour – and it is paramount to reassure the child that they too are doing a great job!! Remember, this is a controlled environment and your child trusts YOU. Show them your confidence and loving interaction with the dog. Be sure to maintain a distance between the dog and your child and try to go about your business as best as you can.
#7: Off leash areas. There is a great opportunity for you and your child to be in close proximity to dogs while at the same time being protected by a fence. Take your child to these parks. Let them find their own comfortable space to sit or stand and watch the dogs from the outside. They will be able to see how they interact with each other as well as with their humans. First hand exposure is the key to their understanding of how dogs work and this will help to allow them to witness how loving, playful & caring dogs really are.
#8: Book a play date in a controlled environment where there can be space between your child and the dog. Take a walk with a friend who has a dog or go to a pet friendly leashed environment and have your child watch a puppy class, or anything that will show them firsthand how patient, sweet and loyal dogs are.
#9: Educate your child on what to do if they are scared, or if a dog jumps, or if a puppy nips at their hands or ankles. Give them knowledge about what to do. Show them how to, with the use of positive reinforcement, manage and control their interactions with puppies and dogs. You would be surprised how much comfort comes from knowing what to do in scary situations. Arm them with the tools they need so they can move forward and start to build trust in dogs.
#10: Above all else, be patient, understanding and respectful of your child’s fear. It is an immense opportunity to give your child the gift of that special kind of love, loyalty and care that dogs are truly meant to give.*
Koryn Greenspan is the CEO of Urban Dog Walks. Urban Dog Walks is an upscale, professional dog walking & dog care company she started as a passion project, and has boomed into a full dog care service providing business. Koryn is a forever pet lover, a previous professional dog walker as well as handler.
https://www.facebook.com/urbandogwalks/
https://www.instagram.com/urbandogwalks.ca/
https://twitter.com/UrbanDogWalks
It was all very exciting.
Those childhood daydreams never involved wondering whether fertility would be an issue.
Fertility issues are difficult. For those that suffer through fertility issues, it’s painful and personal, and most don’t feel comfortable openly discussing it.
Because it’s not discussed, or even given much consideration until it becomes an issue, there is a lot of misinformation and a lot of myth surrounding fertility.
Fertility issues affect 16% of Canadians, that’s about 1 in 6 couples.
What do you really know about fertility issues? We teamed up with OvaScience who have recently launched the AUGMENT treatment in Canada to assist women who are struggling with fertility due to egg health to figure out fact from fiction and provide some insight into the subject.
Myth 1: Fertility issues usually stem from the woman
Actually… Fertility issues can lie with either partner. In men some of the factors that can lead to fertility issues are:
Myth 2: It’s just stress. When you stop trying, it will happen
Actually… Stress doesn’t cause infertility, but infertility will definitely cause a lot of stress.
Myth 3: There has to be a reason.
Actually… While there is a reason, sometimes science doesn’t have all of the answers. Both couples may be in perfect health and seem to be reproductively fit, yet there’s just no success. Unexplained fertility is the diagnosis for between 15 to 30% of couples who have undergone fertility investigation.
Myth 4: It’s easy for most women to get pregnant
Actually… Though it may seem like pregnancy is easy and immediate for most women, it’s actually not as easy as you think. Despite the fact that it might sometimes feel like you’re constantly hearing announcements of a surprise, or that someone got pregnant even though they were on birth control, it takes a very specific set of ideal circumstances to make the magic happen. The timing has to be just right – there are only a few days a month that a woman can conceive. The egg has to be healthy. The uterus has to be in balance. The ejaculate has to have quality sperm that reach the egg. Fertilization needs to occur. The cell division has to happen correctly. Implantation needs to be successful. And even then, there are numerous reasons why a pregnancy doesn’t succeed.
Myth 5: Young women don’t struggle with infertility
Actually… The rate of infertility for women between 40 to 44 is over 14.3% to 20.7%, but the infertility rate of 18 to 29 year old women is 7 to 13.7%. Infertility in women definitely has a correlation to age – fertility is at its peak in a woman’s early 20s. Eggs are healthiest, rate of miscarriage is lowest. Still, the odds of successfully getting pregnant within a cycle is about 33%. Fertility starts to decrease more quickly for a woman through her 30s. By 30, the odds of getting pregnant each cycle are about 20%. These odds decrease steadily by the years until early 40s, when the likelihood of infertility is much higher. 91% of women can get pregnant at age 30; 77% by age 35; 53% by age 40.
Myth 6: Infertile couples will never have children
Actually… Never say never. For some it may never happen, for others, circumstances may change. For many, the odds may be slim, but they’re just odds and it may just naturally happen. While fertility issues can occur because of a wide variety of factors, each case needs to be investigated because individual issues can vary so widely and even change over time.
With scientific development and a better understanding of reproductive health, new strategies for treatment may eventually help more couples experiencing fertility issues. OvaScience has recently introduced the AUGMENT treatment across Canada to help women who are struggling with their fertility due to poor egg health. While many factors contribute to egg health, having adequate levels of mitochondria, or energy inside of the egg is essential for healthy fertilization and embryo development. The AUGMENT treatment uses the energy-producing mitochondria from a patient’s own egg precursor cell, an immature egg cell found in the protective lining of her ovaries – to supplement the existing mitochondria in her egg.
If you are experiencing infertility, or just want to learn more about this new technology, you can visit http://www.augmenttreatment.com or talk to your doctor.
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And then there was a fire.
We were spending the week with my parents at a cottage in Haliburton. About three days in, we got a voicemail from the fire department, saying there was a fire and our front door was compromised. It turns out that our neighbours two houses down caught fire, and the house beside them – which attaches to us – caught fire as well.
We’ve incurred a lot of smoke and smoulder and the house is unlivable right now, but we are safe and I thank god we weren’t there. Living out of suitcases and temporary apartments can put a cramp in anyone’s summer. Here’s how I managed to salvage it:
I became my own portable office: I’ve dealt with insurance companies before, and the one thing I know is that I am my own best advocate. While our adjustor initially took the reigns and made sure that we had the bare necessities, insurance companies have many moving parts and are sometimes short on details. Armed with a tiny notebook, a binder clip of business cards and my cell phone, I have spent hours followingupfollowingupfollowingup with cleaning crews, relocation companies and engineers. Staying on top of business allowed me to carve out some quality time with my kids.
I started accepting help. People are awesome. I have an incredible village of family and friends. As soon as word got out about our situation, we were been invited to sleepovers, pool days, meals, you name it. When we were in between residences my parents let us all sleep over at their place. I don’t accept help very often, but this time I allowed myself to say yes because it’s not just about me anymore.
I didn’t let our situation affect the kids’ summer. I haven’t told our oldest about the fire specifically. I’ve positioned the rest of the summer as a great “adventure”. We did the ice cream crawl (Ed’s Real Scoop, Hollywood Gelato and Sweet Jesus, anyone?), a trip to Centre Island, movies and so many pool days my boys resemble prunes. Of course, I’m tempering all of this with the knowledge that my kids are smart and can tell when I’m being insincere.
When my boy asks me why he can’t go home and get his treasure box I tell him (after dying inside) that there are people fixing up our house so it will be fresh and new and clean. It’s all I can do right now.
I’ve found silver linings everywhere. We’ve been inconvenienced, but our neighbours literally lost everything. We didn’t have to experience firemen kicking our door down in the middle of the night. Our house is secure and has a million people cleaning and fixing it.
Most importantly, we are safe and my kids are having a kick-ass summer.
I still remember the day my dad put me on the purple bike with the flowerprint banana seat, got me peddling and then let me go.
I still remember crashing into the fence, hitting the ground and looking at him, wailing “Why did you let gooooooooo??????!?!?!?”
But I got up, tried it again and the second time was a charm. I never looked back. That bike was my freedom, my chariot to roam the neighbourhood until the streetlights came on.
So I thought it would be easy – no problem at all – to teach my kids how to ride a bike.
Please, please, hold back your laughter, I now know how foolish that sounds. Never use the word easy when describing teaching a child how to ride a bike.
After countless, breathless efforts of me running down the sidewalk holding his seat, of trying to keep up with him and keep him from steering us both into a fence (No thanks, been there and done that!) I returned to the drawing board. I borrowed a friend’s “Balance Buddy“. It’s a handle that fits on the back, making it easier to control the kid’s bike.
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha
So it’s been 2 years of trying to teach my son how to ride a bike. I think two years is long enough for me to admit defeat. I was, in fact, admitting defeat to a friend when she mentioned a local bike program that everyone swears by.
Forget the $29.99 for a Balance Buddy, the $35 it cost for the Learn-to-Ride program at Bike Works has proven to be the best money I ever spent.
[wpvideo itupO47y]
These pros are true bike enthusiasts. They see and understand your child’s movements and know how to adjust and motivate them – how to correct what they’re doing wrong, and how to improve on what they’re doing right.
It was a HUGE improvement over me running alongside of my son, panting and yelling.
I learned three things from these lessons:
A) A balance bike – They took the pedals off of the kids’ bikes and had them do a number of exercises just pushing themselves around by foot. It got them balancing and coasting. It gave them confidence.
B) A tune up – We’d bought what we thought was a good bike from a good bike shop, but it had some issues and those issues were making it hard to learn. We didn’t realize it, and the shop was careless in their tuning. A good bike mechanic is key. The Bike Works team noticed the issues – which were half the battle.
C) Confidence. The balance bike taught the balance part, and putting the peddling part together with balance was easier. Especially with the praise of strangers.
I think my son had, by year two, resolved to the fact that he was never going to get it, and no matter how much running up and down the street I did with him, it was never going to work out. But having someone who *loves* cycling and worked one-on-one with him was more motivating and worked better with his needs.
At first I was a bit bummed that I had failed. I couldn’t teach him. Then I realized, he’s riding. I’m not yelling, running or panting. So what if I didn’t teach him, I found the right teacher for him.
I’m calling it a parenting win!
And he is. He’s 4’4″. He’s a head and shoulders above all of the other kids in his kindergarten class.
But the fact is, he was maybe half a foot shorter than the woman behind the counter.
And she said so.
And we laughed and started chatting about our kids. She told me she was 20 and her kid was 3. We were comparing notes on our kids, when she remarked how people are always trying to tell her how to raise her kid.
It was funny to compare notes. Whether you’re a 20 year old mom or a 40 year old mom, the questions are the same, the meaning is different:
Are you having another:
At 20: Are you still with the dad?
At 40: Are you going to try? Can you still have one?
Was the baby planned:
At 20: Did you learn your lesson or do I need to explain birth control?
At 40: IVF? Fertility treatment?
Is that your baby:
At 20: Is that your sister?
At 40: Is that your grandchild?
While I’d like to think there are benefits and drawbacks to having a baby at any age, it sounds like when you’re younger, people don’t feel you’re as capable, and when you’re older, you’re way more neurotic in your ways. She and I had a laugh about the rude things people ask. It’s funny what people want to know – and feel entitled to ask.
So what’s the right age to have kids – where they’re *obviously* your baby, where you’re *obviously* with the dad, where it’s *obviously* part of your master plan and not some ridiculous stereotypical symptom of your age?
So why all the fighting????
I love cruising parenting boards. I think it’s my favourite distraction. I love offering info, tips, and sometimes learning something new. The personal experiences are so interesting.
By nature I’m just a research junkie, so parenting boards scratch that itch for me. Of course, I’ve read Dr. Sears and Dr. Newman and Dr. Seuss, so I’ve got my foundation of highly regarded advice, but I’ve also read far too much about the far too unusual so I’m a bit of a Cliff Claven when it comes to parenting advice.
But the thing I don’t get is all of the fighting.
The Fighting!
Why all the bashing and trolling and arguing?
I think part of the problem is that there is no font for sarcasm. If there were a sarcasm font I believe half of the world’s problems would be solved and parenting boards would be a much safer place.
I think people start to become friends, and then want to back their friends up. If only we realized that being right has nothing to do with liking someone.
I think people are misinformed and just generalize information, or worse yet, assume what the answer should be, instead of being able to admit when they just don’t know. Like not being informed is a sign of bad parenting.
I think people are too ego-driven to be right.
Why even ask the question on a parenting board? You’re sitting at a computer. You’re typing a question. If you type the question into Bing, Google, Yahoo or any other search you’ll get some pretty verified answers.
Why crowdsource?
Crowdsourcing information is the best way to connect. It’s not about nailing the most perfect answer, it’s finding something to chat about with other mommies. A way to start a conversation. It’s a way to commiserate about a subject or dig and dig until you find an answer among the pile that suits you.
Motherhood can be very isolating.
You spend 24/7 with the babes. Of course, if you work out of the home then you spend 8/5 at work and the rest with the babes. With little time to chat with friends – and that time is spent chatting about your babies anyways when it does happen – baby boards allow you to connect with like-minded people and have a communal experience without having to be in the same room, the same city or even the same country.
I get the difference of opinions – vaccines, circumcision, natural childbirth – but I’m not referring to these big bad battles. These are the biggies, and they’ll wage on through the generations. I’m talking about posts like: Is it safe to give my child cow’s milk at 12 months? Can I eat sushi while pregnant? Should I pump and dump if I have a glass of wine?
There is a lot of misinformation, and a lot of changing information. Then there’s the fact that everyone has a different risk threshold. There are, though, women who give advice that is in no way correct. Just utterly unfounded. And this scares me.
First, if you’re crowdsourcing your question and you decide to rely on someone because you like their profile pic, or they once liked one of your posts, then you’re in deep trouble. And if it were only about the mama, well then go ahead. But if the info is going to harm a wee once, that’s crazy.
And you see these wars rage on and on. I steer clear. I don’t want to be part of mama wars. I don’t really get it. If you need someone to fight with, should it really be someone you don’t know behind a computer monitor who is in a group you sometimes snoop? Is there really a need?
Then there are the people crowdsourcing names. That always goes sideways. It should really be a rule that your child is the first person to hear the name you’ve picked out. Because inevitable, if you crowdsource enough people, you’ll get some nasty remark, and then you won’t be happy.
But the most incredulous crowdsourcing I’ve seen to date are the brag-sourcing mamas. “My little babe is 9 months and can’t tie her shoes yet. She can sing opera in three languages, bake perfect quiche and recite all of the state capitals, but her motor skills aren’t quite what they should be. Should I be worried or wait until she’s 10 months to see if it works out?”
Sheesh. I can see why those posts go off the rails.
While baby boards are really cool and great ways to connect, sometimes it just makes me wonder – parenting is time consuming. If you’re busy waging a mama war on a baby board, who’s watching your kids!!!!
Some birth stories aren’t great experiences. I get it. Mine were both vaginal deliveries. My second was sunny-side up, making the back labour an intense experience of epically painful proportions. With my first, the epidural I wanted so badly ended up slowing down my labour so, with the second, I opted for the last-minute epi, just to help with the pushing, so that my labour would go faster.
Gawd, that hurt!
The tearing and subsequent stitching with my first was brutal. Lots of stitches, lots of trouble sitting, lots of discomfort relieving myself – and let me tell you, the “husband stitch” you hear about – that’s a real thing. The doctor told me I would thank him for it. Or maybe that comment was directed at my husband, because I was most definitely not impressed or even happy with that medical procedure.
I really didn’t want to do the whole vaginal birth thing. My first pregnancy was in 2007/2008, and people were starting to talk about scheduled C-sections, but talking about scheduling a c-section brought out the birth shaming:
What kind of mother schedules a baby out of convenience?
What kind of mother chooses surgery over nature’s method?
Who chooses surgery?
Me.
ME!!!!!
It wasn’t out of convenience, it was out of fear.
Fear that it would hurt? Fear that there could be complications? Fear that he might get stuck?
Nope.
It was fear that my favourite body part would get all stretched out to hell, and that my sex life would never be the same. While I get the severe pain and invasive nature of a c-section, the longterm effects are minimal. That scar heals up small. It’s rough but it heals. It might even itch. Yes, I know, there’s even the occasional complication. But I’ve never been a big fan of anything that shows off that part of my belly – or any part of my belly – anyways.
I wasn’t afraid of giving birth, I was afraid of vaginal trauma – and, for the record, I was absolutely right. Once you stretch something to its max, it won’t go back. Don’t believe me? Think about how an inflated balloon looks after letting the air out, or how much looser those skin-tight jeans are on the second day.
The Kegel freak that I am, I’ve always Kegeled. It’s a favourite passtime. I’m Kegeling right now.
I like (ahem, liked) having great tone and I really enjoyed the sex I had. Since 2008 I’ve redoubled my Kegel efforts. I took up squats and lunges too, since my friend Anne swore they yielded three times the results.
Nada.
I shouldn’t say nada – I don’t have horrible tone, but I don’t think I’ll ever even approach the tone I had pre-babies. Wasn’t giving up my boobs, my beloved sleep and last shred of sanity enough for the cause? No? Give up the jayjay too? Fine.
I did, and I’d do it again, if I had to. But why did I have to?
I wanted a scheduled C-section. I didn’t care about schedules or control or even picking the birthdays – I wanted to preserve my vagina.
It was not to be.
My doctor was not one that believed in elective surgery over vaginal delivery. I remember my husband asking her if scheduling would be an option because I’d mentioned it to him. She said absolutely not. It would only happen if it were to become a medical necessity, otherwise she felt I was strong and healthy and there was no reason to take on the risks of surgery.
Now, I’m not sure why. People are allowed to have surgery for all kinds of elective reasons, so why not childbirth?
I know – all of the C-section mamas think I’m crazy, but I bet a few of the 3rd degree tear mamas are saying a resounding “Amen” to all the things I’m preaching.
I get the subtle nuances, the benefits of letting baby come when they want – but as my blood pressure went up, my doctor started talking about induction. Now that’s not all that natural, and it comes with risks – so why threaten to induce me? Just give me my C-section!
My babies were full term and my only goal was to get them out of my body and into this world healthy and safe. Each ended up having some sort of complication that almost required a C-section, so why not JUST GIVE ME MY C-SECTION.
I know lots of moms that just want to experience vaginal birth and feel something was taken from them when they, instead, were rushed into surgery with life-threatening situations. But their kids aren’t any worse off for not sliding into home plate vaginally – so why not just give me my C-section?
Not sure why the stigma still exists around scheduling a C-section. Who really cares if the mom is doing it for her own convenience – or the preservation of her vagina. There are a lot of things we choose to do, and those choices are personal.
But the choice was not there, and my quest for a scheduled C-section went unfulfilled. So, every year on July 27, while wishing my first-born a happy birthday, I take a moment to myself, a moment of silence for my vagina at precisely 2.02pm.
