If you baby eats sand please please wash your baby!!

This week we have been frolicking in sunny Ibiza. Me and BF were super excited to introduce luna to the wonders of sand.

So now were here and all she wants to do is eat it. Not little bits but big fat handfuls and if I try to take it away she’s heartbroken. Well I’m not about to be the reason for her broken heart. She will learn that sand is not a enjoyable culinary experience. A few days on with more sand been shoved down her throat and no poo for 2 days, we were starting to worry. She was the same happy and adventurous baby she always was but not going was very unusual.

We EC’ed her were at the beach so she had no nappy on the whole time. Just a little pit made by my foot and I’d pee her over it and cover with sand.

Just as a group of Italian retirees descended dthe beach I notice as grunting coming from luna. With a swift move my I put her over the sand and BOOM ..the mother of all shits came out. My guess would be that It was about 50% sand. Fortunately because I had stayed intune with her need to go there was no need to wipe and so she still had a lovely soft bum. I covered the shit over and smile at the Italian lady’s.

On the way back home the next day she had a poo in her nappy. When we took it off to have a closer look we were down to about 30% sand. In this situation baby wipes are no hope as they can rub the sand in and cause a rash. My baby needed a bath…desperately!

I wash my baby once a week, is that too much?

When Luna was born she had a smell that I cannot describe. I didnt want it to go. This perfect creature with her perfect smell, fresh from my vagina. The midwifes were quite keen to clean her up so i’d not have to look at a messy baby. Funny thing is I really wasn’t bothered and asked them to leave all her crap on her. She didn’t have vernix like some newborns (which I hear is very important to be left to absorb into the skin) but she was perfect and beautifully smelly so there was no way I was having people “clean her up”. A week has past and her arm pips started getting a bit cheesy along with the fact that she was now having nappies put on her when we went out. My feelings told me she needed a bath. I was so sad to wash away her utrine smell but it had to be done. After that I would always sniff her hoping to find that wonderful smell but alass it has all but gone.

From then on we washed her as and when it was needed. Like when shit was covering the house and her, and no amount of baby wipes would remove it.

Sometimes we would go over a week sometime less than that.

Recently I read that cleaning our babies too often could cause eczema as it drys out their sensitive skin and removes antibodies that are vital for protecting them from the crap they will be exposed to in a city life like ours. When she does have a clean up it is normally in the shower with her daddy which is so much fun for both of them.

No nappies, she can piss in a pot

Did you know that a large percentage of the worlds baby’s don’t have nappies? Chances are these families also don’t have buggies, baby wipes or Starbucks neither. So what do they do with all that shit and piss?

Probably something similar to Elimination Communication. This is a technique centred around staying in tune with you baby’s signals to poo and pee. Theory goes that babies are born with the expectation of not defecating on themselves. In places like the Amazon rainforest, where there is no supermarket full of nappies and the babies are strapped to the mother at all times, it is very easy to read your babeis cue to go as you are close and connected the whole time. From what I’ve read the mother would lift the bum away from them and allow the babe to go, sometimes with the help of a little sound with lets them know it poo poo time.

Rewind back to me on the bed with my hour old baby and all this cool knowledge. I had a bowl for her to pee in and a towel in case I missed. Well by the time night came I and the towel were covered in shit and the bowl had one (of her one hundred) pees in it. I keep this going for the first few days apart from when people came round as so not to cover them also in shit. It felt good. Not the shit covered bed sheet and clothes, but the sight of Luna’s bare bum without the constraints of a nappy and without the thought that she was sitting in her own piss.

I am writing this 4 months later lying on my bed next to a naked baby. We are still ECing when we are at home, at her grandparents house and at the park. I can tell when she wants to go and I make a little sound like psssssss for her wee and I grunt for her poo. I am still sometimes covered in shit but it’s worth it. I have saved hundreds of pounds in nappies, nappies that if are not the natural expensive biodegrading kind take 400 years to breakdown! I am also that bit more conscious and allowing to my daughters innate  expectations.

For anyone interested in trying this, all you need is a bowl and lots and lots of towels or muslin.

Personally my little luna went every 10 minutes or so from when she was a baby but I assume all babies are different so you will find your little ones rhythm. When we were out she used either natural disposable nappies or reusable nappies. Okay now as I am painfully honest I must admit to still trying to get my head round reusable nappies. The first two times the shit just leaked, I got annoyed and vowed not to use them again. I thankful stumbulled apon a lots of facebook groups for cloth nappies. They were full of advice and support which helped me to heal from the memory of poo bursting up my daughters back.

Lastly, evidence has it that EC’ed babies are potty trained around 1 year old.

Here’s a link to more info and support if your interested; https://m.facebook.com/groups/18129126922?ref=bookmark

The best sleep ever

Having a baby prompts two questions from most people.

1- Is she good?

2- Does she sleep?

Both these questions puzzle me and make me wonder if people actually think before they speak or if they just repeat what they have heard others say. Is she good always prevokes a confused look and the response yes she’s great. What else am I going to say? No she’s awful, what a fucking mistake that was.

Does she sleep is also a question from someone who does not think before they speak. I assume it must be auto pilot as so many people come out with this crap. I say to them, “yes, she sleeps great, and she wakes up 3 or 4 times in the night for a feed because she knows if she spent the whole night sleeping my tits would explode, and the mess would be dreadful”. On a more serious note, because I sleep with my daughter in bed I have no pressure to have her “sleeping through”, when she is hungry I just shove a tit in. I can now do this completely asleep. I sleep about 8 to 9 hours a night. My BF thinks it’s hilarious to tell other tired parents that he has always had a full night sleep since she born. I then add that the exception to that is when he’s had a drink down the pub, and he’s on the sofa, or that one night he re-lived his teenage years and got so drunk I sent him to his mums down the road.

I have a confession to make to all those people who think my baby should be sleeping in another room, or in her own cot…I would miss her! My favourite time of the day is around 7am when we all wake up together. 3 way cuddles are the best way to start the day. Fact! So if you wouldn’t  mind stopping the stupid questions it would be much appriciated. She’s is, and always will be wonderful, and lying face to face with my baby every night is the best sleep ever.

My nipples are on fire!

For me there was no option, I was breastfeeding exclusively. If I try and avoid cows milk you can be damn sure I am not going to be giving my newborn any. The morality of how they take the milk is one thing, and just the simple thinking that a cows milk is made of a calf not a human baby is enough for me.

So there I was with my beautiful baby trying to find my nipple. She was on then off, on then off. We were learning together something I’ve planned to do for the next few years.

My tits were huge and my nipples were dark like the night sky. Luna loved them. She fed whenever she wanted, as much as she wanted. I’d dreamt of this moment many times during my pregnacy and now she was here in the crook of my arm, happily latched on.

It was, for me, the most bonding experience since her coming out of the home in my belly. People would come wanting cuddles and I would smile and hand her over, secretly looking forward to the moment she showed signs of being hungry again and I could take her back.

I’ve always enjoyed the sexual experience of having my boyfriend play with my nipples, this was similar for the first day or so. If my boyfriend carried on playing with them for 3 days they would have become sore and numb. Well this is exactly what my baby was doing up to 12 times a day.

It felt like someone was holding a lit match to my once gorgeous nipples. They were on fire!

After a few days my milk came in, along with random bouts of crying, and my tits started to match my arse cheeks in size. Luckily the constant feeding became easier and my nipples got the message that this was their life now.

Since then breastfeeding has been an absolute pleasure. It’s mine and Luna’s time.

Thank you thank you thank you

To Luna’s daddy, I would like to say thank you. You amaze me. You stayed calm when I was not and you held my hand as I tried to break yours. I am forever thankful that I can share in this beautiful adventure with you my love. You may not have done the pushing but in some way you helped every part of the journey. I can tell this is going to be a lot of fun. 

 To Luna’s granny, thank you for the unquestionable support. How very lucky we are to have you. Some of my ideas my be a little wacky but you go with them with a open heart and mind. Thank you for the Thai food and for cleaning my flat. Please visit unannounced whenever you want. 

 To my mum, Im crying as I write this just like I was in the birthing pool. You held my hand for hours and didn’t let go. I know it was hard but you stayed with me. You have shown me that a mother and daughter are connected on a cosmic level. Thank you for always trying your best. You are the coolest person I know.

I fought for you little Luna

Lying on the bed with you in my arms I felt all powerful. You are perfect and even though we are no longer physically one I am bonded to you for eternity. This moment is recorded in my heart and soul to be played over and over again as a reminder of the courageous, triumphant and beautiful beings we are.

They don’t care about this hugely epic event that is our meeting. They don’t care about how not having this moment would effect you in years to come. They don’t care about your soul.

If they had had their way you would have been cut out of me 5 weeks ago. I didn’t let them.

You didn’t want to come out on the due date, but that didn’t fit in with their schedule so they wanted to use drugs on us and force your coming into the world. I didn’t let them.

2 weeks and 6 days later you choose your birthday. We worked together in the perfect way our continuum has been doing for centuries. But it wasnt as quick as they  wanted so I was told that they would pull you out. I didn’t let them.

You arrived and were lifted into my arms. The place every bit of your being expected to be but they wanted to take you. I didn’t let them.

They kept pushing to cut your cord before it had stopped pulsing but I didn’t let them.

When all your nourishing blood had left the placenta and entered you, your father cut the cord.

Chest to chest with me so close you could hear my heart beat, that sound you know so well, we were in bliss. I put you to my breast and I gave you food. It was by many miles the most special time in my life. At the end of the day it was clear and proven that you were always in perfect health with no complications.

They could have taken that from us.

I did so very well and I fought so very hard.

Shit got complicated

I am struggling to write this post because I want to share my story without revealing too much of the sacred moments. I believe it is important that people hear my opinion though. It’s unusual and unsaid in mainstream society.

Here goes…. My dream was to have a home birth with my BF, mum, doula and midwife showering me with love and supportive energy. I’d watched clips of women having orgasmic births so I new exactly what to do. Click the link for orgasims http://orgasmicbirth.com .Pregnancy had been the best. I was the embodiment of Mother Earth, a goddess providing life and carrying a soul. The problems started when a regular check up with the community midwife found that at 37 weeks my baby was breach (head up, arse down). I was immediately advised to go to hospital to get further info. The cascade of profitable intervention pushing started here.

Now lets get this clear, breach baby’s are born all the time around the world with no problems but I was now being told that I would need a elective caesarean because that was the safest way of getting my baby out. After much tears and lots of googling I found out what I believe to be the truth. It was not my only option but it is the most profitable one for the pharmaceutical companies, and because most women succumb to the pressure from the consultant, midwifes in the UK have very little experience in the delivery of breach babies. In Britain nearly 70% of births have some kind of intervention whether it be induction, cesarean or pain relief. Is it really possible that we are so inadequate at delivering our own children that so many of us need help from the medical industry. I call bullshit on this increasing phenomenon. It costs the UK taxpayer £2679 for an elective Caesarian and £1066 for a home birth. I think this is because in a home birth there is less chance of interventions that cost lots of money for the drugs, staffing and machinery. It is logically far more relaxing to be in your own home and for that I presume it must be safer. The pharmaceutical company’s need that dollar to keep rolling in to insure they stay the at the top. Cutting me open is clearly better for business.

Click link for essential pre birth viewing  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=KvljyvU_ZGE

Against all medical advice I decided to push on with my home birth.

Pregnant as a tree

Ive practiced yoga for about 10 years so wasn’t planning on stopping now I am round like a ball. The first trimester I was honestly kinda scared of miscarriage so didn’t do a lot of physical activites. At 13 weeks I attended my first pregnancy yoga class on my lunch break. Pregnacy can make you feel like you are the centre of the universe and what is happening to you is truly the most important event since the invention of the wheel.  Walking into studio 2 of Triyoga Soho was a weirdly grounding experience to see a room full of women at different gestations all believing like me that their pregnacy was the most special. The teacher asks each of us our name and how many weeks pregnant we are. The competition hots up as we evil eye the ones who have less and gets smug looks from the lot who are weeks from due date. Looking back at this sad moment it’s clear that nobody apart from other pregnant people really get or care how many weeks you are.

Compared to my usual yoga class this was slow and easy, which felt a tad boring initially but as the weeks progress and my range of movement reduced I could see how it would become essential. The silent stretches, controlled breathing and supportive teacher helped to connect me even more to the life that had entered me and the body I was creating. 

In addition to pregnacy yoga I also carried on with my usual advanced yoga class. I was lucky that my teacher in this class had a backround in working with pregnant students and so would adjust my poses accordingly. 

I did my last yoga lesson at 38 weeks. By this time I felt wonderful, healthy and had zero back pain. 

 

What the fuck is a Doula?

Mum said her gift to me would be paying for a doula. Sounds nice mum, but what the fuck is that? A “Doula” she explained is an experienced person who offers emotional and practical support to a woman (or couple) before, during and after childbirth. Unlike a midwife they are there to help on a mental and spiritual level too. The experienced women in question was a very good friend of my mum who had been supporting women through their transition into motherhood for many years, she had also bore 4 children of her own. I had myself known her for sometime and had a clear memory of being at a fertility day in some hippy women’s garden with my fingers in egg white, while being told that it was the same consistency as my vaginal discharge when ovulating. I was 13!

On finding out I was expecting she was elated and we arrange times to meet. Together with my mum and BF she helped me plan the birth I would like. I was able to call her when ever I had questions about pregnancy, the impending push or even when the baby was here. I understand not everyone has the opportunity or budget to have someone like I did but I never brought a baby book or had unanswered questions and to me that was a saving on my finances and stress levels. By the time labour came I was confident that I knew all my options and happy at the thought of having someone so experienced with me at this monumental time. If your interested to find out more what these special people do check out this link; http://doula.org.uk

A NOTE TO MY DOULA: Thank you for being patience, honest and for staying up with me for all those hours. I hope the book you said my pregnancy inspired you to write is a bestseller. And lastly that we always stay connected. X