So here's a post for any parents who are thinking about or waiting for their child to get tubes put in their ears - or a myringotomy.
Babe likely had some ear troubles as a baby and I just never figured it out. She was certainly fussy enough for it.
But when we moved up north (before Babe had turned two) and she started daycare she of course was launched into an endless barrage of classroom-caught illnesses. And when that happened the ear infections started.
One after another. After another.
That first fall/winter she had about six ear infections with not much down time in between and the emergency doctors told me at that point I might need to consider getting tubes put in her ears.
Then summer/spring came and the colds went away and so did the ear issues.
But we moved back to Vancouver, fall came around and she started preschool again and of course the ear problems returned. This time however it was clear that not only was she getting frequent painful ear infections, she also wasn't hearing well even when she was healthy.
Babe has always been super verbal but I began to notice that she was often mispronouncing new words. On top of that she just always seemed cranky, fussy...actually, down-right bitchy. I started to notice that if I called to her from another room she usually couldn't find me by following my voice. And I started to notice that she said "What?" A LOT and often only understood me when I spoke very slow and clear or when she was looking right at my mouth.
Between the constant ear infections which kept her out of school, to her constant irritability, to the risk to her development and safety I decided we really couldn't wait any longer to see if she would just outgrow the problem.
Getting the surgery done isn't easy. It usually takes a long time but I was very focussed on speeding up the process as much as possible for both Babe's sanity and mine (I was literally repeating almost everything four or five times).
The first step was getting Babe an appointment to have her hearing checked. Before this point I still thought maybe I was blowing things out of proportion and she was hearing better than I feared. I made an appointment for her at the North Shore Children's Hearing Clinic (you can refer your children yourself - HERE's THE FORM) and I don't remember how long the wait was but I think it was going to be a good couple months - actually, if I remember correctly I think she would still be waiting. But "squeaky wheel get the grease" and I was feeling desperate so I told them to put us on a cancellation list and we'd come in any time. Eventually they called with an appointment and I think in the end we only had to wait a couple weeks.
She went for the tests which were really simple. The staff were great with her and the tests were designed to be fun for kids. For example she had headphones in and every time she heard a beep she would drop a bite of plastic food into an bucket with a lion's mouth on it. She had a blast and nothing was invasive or painful at all.
When we got the results (at the same appointment) it was clear that Babe was in fact having a lot of trouble hearing.
After that I began asking Babe more direct questions about her hearing and she sometimes would say it sounded like fire in her ears or it was noisy in her head. I got my mom to stand a distance away and whisper things to see at what level it would be before Babe could repeat what was being said. She was definitely not hearing well.
So the next step was taking Babe and the hearing test results to a doctor to get a referral for an ENT. But again when when I called (two different ENT's I believe) I was told the wait lists to see them would be looong as well. And that even when we finally got in the door and were referred for surgery that we would likely have to wait six months to a year to get the tubes done. More discouragement. Not sure if it's true but one doctor's assistant told me the wait list for Children's Hospital would be about a year.
So once again I explained that my daughter was little and not only was she in pain quite often but she wasn't hearing any of the time and it was starting to become a safety concern and affecting her speech development.
The staff were great and they did find a way to squeeze her in within I think less than a week.
At the ENT appointment the doctor met with us, checked Babe's ears, listened to her history and symptoms and discussed with us the risks and benefits of the surgery. And that was it. I said I wanted to get it done as soon as possible and they gave us a surgery date for three weeks later at Lions Gate Hospital. We had the option of waiting until fall since kid's ears usually dry up in the warmer weather but I figured why put it off just to have it start to flare up again and then maybe not be able to get into surgery so quickly.
Her surgery was earlier this week. I was of course nervous about Babe being under anaesthetic but I was looking forward to getting Babe to a place where she felt better and could hear properly.
She wasn't allowed to eat or drink after bedtime the night before but her surgery time was very early the next morning so that wasn't much of an issue.
We had to arrive at the hospital at 6:30 am to check in for the 7:45 am surgery. The admitting staff were all amazing. The lady who got us settled and changed for surgery gave Babe a little teddy bear and a warm blanket. The nurse who came to fill out forms dressed her bear for surgery and made the blood pressure and pulse checks into a game.
We then met the ENT (same office, different ENT) and he went over everything that would happen again. And then the anesthesiologist came in to meet with us and reassure us that everything would be fine.
This was the only hard part: I have spoken to so many people who have taken their children to get tubes put in plus the regular doctors and our ENT and every one of them told me that the parent can stay in the operating room with their child and hold their hand until they are asleep. So right up until the anesthesiologist came in I was still under that impression. But I do remember from my own experiences that sometimes the anesthesiologist has a personal preference for putting someone under which may differ from what the doctor had said would happen. And for some reason I just had a hunch that I wouldn't be able to stay with Babe until she was asleep. Sure enough, the anesthesiologist said he preferred not to have the parent in the room when putting the child under. Because we were having the discussion in front of Babe I didn't want to make her nervous so I calmly agreed with him when really I wanted to argue and demand to be allowed to stay with my baby.
It worked out fine because I had been pumping Babe up for surgery for weeks. Telling her how lucky she was to live in a country where she can be able to have it done and how good she would feel afterwards. In the days before surgery I went over and over with her step by step what would happen and had explained it all right up to the mask going onto her face and her starting to feel sleepy.
When I found out I couldn't go in with her I was especially thankful that I had explained it all to her and made it sound like no big deal because otherwise I think my three-year-old would have been quite shocked to be taken away from me by strangers to a scary operating room.
But I have to say all the surgery staff were great too. In fact, despite not letting me in the room the anesthesiologist was really good with Babe and continued on making the experience fun for her. He even piggy-backed her into surgery!
Then it was just waiting until she was awake. Which was nerve-wracking. But the time apart was only about an hour and most of that was just Babe sleeping it off. I believe the actual surgery was only twenty minutes.
Afterwards the ENT said her ears were so filled with a thick gluey substance that it kept clogging his sucker-thingy (he actually used a medical term for that equipment).
The rest of my notes come from Babe herself, so...you know:
Babe says when she got in the room she watched cartoons and then they put the mask on.
She says the gas smelled like doggy breath (pretty sure that was a description she heard from one of the doctors because we don't have a dog).
She says they put stickers on her arm (she did have stickers on her when I saw her next).
Babe also says the piggy back was fun and she doesn't remember feeling sleepy.
Pretty stoned after just waking up.
The nurse gave her a popsicle but at this point she's still too
high to remember what she is supposed to do with a popsicle.
When she woke up she was groggy and stoned but still seemed to be enjoying all the pampering from the hospital staff (might be a Munchausen Syndrome candidate later on if hospital trips continue to be this much fun).
The only time she cried at all was when the nurse removed the little IV tube in her hand - which they were kind enough to put in after she was asleep.
Take this popsicle and shove it!
Not liking the nurse after she took out the IV.
Has certainly perfected her Victim face.
There has been no dramatic "I can hear!" moment but I think that is because her ears were already starting to clear a little due to the weather. There have been a few times where she has commented that a sound was too loud where she never would have said that before. But she definitely isn't saying "What?" anymore.
She has antibiotic ear drops for the next few days but has felt no pain. In fact she was back to her old self a few hours later and back at preschool the next day.
As a thank-you we made a donation for new equipment to Lions Gate Hospital. And I think we'll take a card over for all the staff and her ENT. If you want to donate to Lions Gate Hospital, CLICK HERE.
Anyway, I hope our story helps if you are waiting to take your child in for a myringotomy or if it is something you are considering.
After daycare Babe and I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some things for dinner. Due to a naughty moment in the car she knew a toy was going in the Disappearing Box when we got home so she was her very best Big Girl Helper in the store; trying to rescue her toy from a week of hibernation up high.
We are always rushed at the end of the day - going from work to errands and home to play, make dinner and do the bedtime routine - all before 7:30.
Babe tried her best to carry a bag in from the car - without being asked. But it was too heavy and after a few stumbles in the parkade she let me carry it in.
I try to get her to watch TV while I cook dinner because I know it's not safe for her to be prancing around the hot pots and pans in the kitchen. It never works though because Babe has too much energy to sit for long in front of the TV. And by the end of the day she is just desperate for my attention. So dinner time is usually a juggling act for me. There's no extra set of hands or eyes. No one who can keep her entertained while the other parent gets dinner on.
She took off her jeans because they were uncomfortable. I asked her if she wanted me to get her a pair of cozy pants but I don't think she responded. She was playing on the floor just outside the kitchen and we were chatting as I cooked.
She went to the bathroom on her own and peed on the grown up potty without help which made her proud. That's a new thing since she saw a little friend do it while they were visiting...until recently she's always used her little potty.
When she was done I asked again if she wanted cozy pants. Nothing.
I was still cooking.
I saw her fold up her bathroom stool and take it into her bedroom.
I heard her say she needed it to reach the lightswitch in her bedroom.
She pinched her fingers hard in that stool just the other day so I had a faint flash of concern that it might happen again.
She called to me from the bedroom in her growly frustrated voice because the light wasn't turning on.
It's a wall-mounted light that plugs into a socket which is controlled by the lightswitch at the doorway. But it also has a switch on the cord. Her sound machine is also plugged into the same outlet. So at night when I leave her room after tucking her in I turn the light off at the cord so the lightswitch at the wall doesn't kill the sound machine.
Usually I turn it back on in the morning but I guess I didn't this morning. So Babe couldn't figure out why flicking the lightswitch by the bedroom door wasn't working.
She was calling out, "The batteries are dead."
I put down my spatula and said "No Honey, they aren't". I went into the room and hit the switch on the cord which runs like a seam from the wall light down the wall and behind the dresser to a hidden plug. Then I went around the corner back to my cooking.
Maybe ten seconds passed.
I'm sure one of two things were going through her mind before she forgot my many, many warnings:
Her interest may have been piqued by my coming in and switching the light on at the cord, maybe she was drawn to that switch that she hadn't noticed before.
Or more likely her mind simply wandered back to my question moments before about cozy pants.
But she was still on the little stool at the lightswitch as I walked past her and back to the kitchen.
I've told her a hundred times. Over and over...
I'd only been out of the room for a few seconds.
There was a loud crash. It sounded like she'd broken her whole room in one second. Before I heard her scream I already knew exactly what it was and my stomach had already sunk.
She was screaming as I rounded the corner and into her room. I couldn't get there fast enough.
And there was my little girl buried under her heavy dresser.
She was pinned from her mid section down under the tipped frame, the three drawers and a ton of clothing. There was broken glass and sparkles in the rug from her Las Vegas snow globe.
It only took a second to get her out and into my arms but she cried in heaving sobs in my lap for a couple minutes before I could calm her just enough to really look her over. I knew she wasn't bleeding but in those moments I didn't know if there'd be a broken bone. Honestly, I didn't even care, I was just so thankful she was OK.
That dresser is so heavy. It could have been so much worse.
I had her furniture braced to the wall in our old place. I've been reminding myself over and over and over to get the guy in to do it at this place. There's not much that is tippy here anyway, just a couple of items. It's just one of those things that gets pushed down the list because everything else seems more pressing and I'm doing it all myself.
And I've told her a hundred times to never, ever open more than one drawer at a time or climb up on any furniture. I've explained, slightly graphically, what could happen if she tips heavy furniture over onto herself.
But I nannied for years so I know not to expect a three-year-old to remember any warnings. I guess part of me thought since I regularly reminded her that she would somehow remember in that split second when something catches her attention.
But you know what? Ya, it was an accident. It was in the blink of an eye, it was just a stupid mistake. But it is my fault. It was negligent. It's not like I didn't know parents should brace the furniture. I know. I've known for years. I've reminded other parents to do it long before I had Babe. I kept reminding myself to do it since we moved and kept forgetting and reminding myself and forgetting. That little voice inside was telling me to get it done.
For crying out loud I just read another story about a child who was killed this way, like a week ago.
It's amazing how fast things can happen when we are juggling too many things and trusting our babies just a little too much.
Babe is perfectly fine. But when I think of what could've happened I feel sick and the tears come on.
I'm sending all my love to whatever angel was watching over my little one as her attention innocently turned to the dresser in her room.
Please anchor your furniture if your wee ones are exploring now.
Even if they are a bit older and you've told them a hundred times...
I'm going to open with a review of the new documentary Bought so that anyone who doesn't care about my personal feelings on vaccines and anti-vaxxers can simply move on afterwards.
"Medications, including vaccines are not all bad. But they're not all good. We need to bring up questions. We need to have science and data be the focus and get the money people out of the conversation." - quote from Bought. Bought attempts to explore the link between increased illness rates and the toxins we are ingesting - mainly vaccines and GMO's in our food.
When I started writing my post below this review I was unaware of Bought and I only just watched it. While I love watching documentaries I take them all with a grain of salt because they often paint a one-sided picture of an important issue.
But I have to admit this one seems more balanced than some of the anti-vax stuff I've seen (if you can get past the opening discussion about the kid who was severely effected by a vaccine). Of course it is obviously intended to raise concerns about vaccines which will no doubt lead to accusations of it adding to the mass hysteria. Which it probably will.
At any rate knowledge is power and I think parents should watch it anyway. I think it's important to hear the other side of the story even if you don't agree. Read the credits on who was involved in the making of it. Write down the names of the doctors and experts who are testifying in it. Check the sources and start your own research on the information in this documentary there. I'm going to.
I think it was a poor choice to open with the family whose son suffered devastating effects from a vaccine. We all know the horror stories of the one in a million chance that something immediately goes wrong and I think using that slim-chance shot as an opener will turn off all but the people who need to see this film the least - the already anti-vaxxers. I almost stopped watching after the first few minutes because I was thinking what I think most people would, "Ya, that's really sad but we all know it can happen and it's a one in a million chance. Vaccination is still worth the risk." But once I got past that part, the rest raises some interesting questions about what we are putting in our bodies - vaccines and food - and doesn't blame the doctors which I found refreshing. If you live in B.C., think right now about all the calls for cumulative studies on the impacts of the various LNG and Pipeline projects proposed. It makes sense. A study on one proposal will show very different results then if you add up the environmental effects of a bunch of them being built and operating at the same time. That's sort of the logic they are using in this film. The risks of one set of vaccines may be different then if you consider all of them and toss in the other toxins in our environments.
But if you're sick of the whole vaccine debate you can just fast forward to the halfway mark where they turn to looking at GMO's and how they could be impacting our health. I found it a slightly more credible "alternative view" film because it's not just about how horrible vaccines might be but also explores another potential contributing factor - all the crap we eat.
Here's the link to Bought. It's not free after March 6th so watch it now, prepare to pay or hope they make it more accessible. ** I'm adding this in a later date because I found no good reviews of Bought when I originally posted this. Anyway, HERE is a review "debunking" a lot of the information and claims in the film. decide for yourself. And if you're totally put off by anything related to the Anti-Vaccine movement here's a funny clip for you: There's also some clips about the tweets he received after this aired which you can find online as well. But really, it's not funny how vicious people are getting with each other over this when really the issue is just about access to accurate information regardless of who the information validates. Just trying to keep the discussion light!
Anyway...now my feelings on the current Vaccine Battle:
It's actually not making me physically sick, I just thought that was a catchy title. Sometimes I get annoyed with people who refuse to vaccinate too. But then I remind myself that we are all trying to make the best choices for our children.
So...
There's no way to post about this without pissing people off, especially since I'm not a doctor, scientist or researcher and therefore what I say counts for very little and is simply my opinion.
For the record, Babe is vaccinated.
I shouldn't feel the need to state that right up front but I'm afraid of the backlash I'll receive if people presume from my sympathies for the other side that we are, God forbid, anti-vaxxers. That's my point in a nutshell. I feel the need to stand up and say we are vaccinated...(read: the good guys) - and I shouldn't have to.
As far as I know she's up to date on all of her shots (I'll get to the "as far as I know" part in a second). However I have chosen for us to opt out of all vaccines of the flu shot variety.
Vaccinating Babe was a choice that I did not make easily. I previously blogged about it HERE. I don't consider myself particularly conservative or hippy-dippy. Rather my beliefs and reasoning for decisions seems to change with the information I have to go on at the time. The reason my choice to vaccinate was so difficult for me had nothing to do with not wanting to see my baby momentarily hurt by the needles. It wasn't because as a new mother my mama-bear hormones were in overdrive. And it wasn't because I was leaning strongly in one direction or another.
The reason taking her in was so traumatic for me was because I felt I couldn't win either way.
Like most parents, I wanted Babe to be as protected as she could be from serious harm (read disease) and I knew I'd never forgive myself if she was injured or killed by something I could have made the choice to prevent. But that rationale wasn't enough to ease my fears about the amount and accuracy of reliable information about current vaccines. I really did feel that I was making a choice that could harm her either way. And as I watched her get her first shots I had a horrible, sinking feeling that I could be making a huge mistake. I knew no matter how much research I did on my own, it would never be enough and I would never know the whole truth.
While I believe in vaccination as a concept and its positive contributions to healthy societies I can also see that we have significantly amped up the amounts we are taking. I am not satisfied that from a pure, uninfluenced scientific standpoint we have ruled there is no serious cumulative impact from our heavy vaccine load and especially when combined with other toxins in our modern environment.
Which brings me to:
At this point I have no idea what I have been vaccinated for over the years. There's no database that I can access that will show everything I have received. I have absolutely no medical knowledge on what was in what I got, how it might react with something else I received or will receive in the future and how those vaccines may have disrupted my body's natural processes.
I know I was vaccinated as a baby/toddler for whatever was standard at the time. As I got older I became terrified of needles and my parents let me opt out of in-school vaccination programs with the intention of doing it later at the doctor's office. Sometimes I went, sometimes it got forgotten about. As a young adult I got boosters when it was recommended that I do so but I don't remember for what or by whom. I travelled and therefore received travel vaccines from various clinics and was responsible for the paperwork which is now long lost. I've lived in numerous cities and I have been through three family doctors and a ton of clinic visits. I've definitely had too many Tetanus shots because I can never remember when I had the last one.
And Babe's records aren't perfect either. We moved. She was vaccinated at a couple different places. I know I forgot her vaccination book at least once but don't know if it was filled in later or if the records were always sent to our family doctor. I know I spontaneously got her vaccinated for chicken pox after an outbreak at her first daycare but it's not written down in her vaccine booklet. We moved and I can't remember now if she ever did get her 18 month shots, so now I have to figure that out which is harder to do than you would think if your family hasn't always gone to the same source for your vaccinations.
Record keeping on Canadian vaccination is apparently pretty dim. According to media reports there's no central database and therefore no reliable numbers on how close we are to the herd immunity rate or which parts of the country are experiencing lower rates.
If we aren't accurately keeping track of who got how much or what and when, then how are we supposed to have reliable data on what the cumulative impacts might be? And if vaccination is as important as most of us believe then shouldn't our governments and physicians be making a much bigger push for it - to stop the hysteria? They should be toting out all the research they can and showing us how Big Pharma isn't skewing the results. If they could make a more trustworthy push for it they could better limit the damage being done by the anti-vax movement. "Misinformation regarding vaccines must be addressed promptly and aggressively. False or misleading information about vaccination is widely dispersed by a few influential individuals, self-described vaccine-safety advocates, and some clinicians. Public health officials and professional organizations should respond swiftly to dishonest or unbalanced portrayals of vaccination." - Douglas Diekema, New England Journal of Medicine
But part of what is getting me annoyed with us pro-vaccinators bullying the anti-vaxxers comes down to one word: Autism.
As a parent, that you could argue has the potential to become an anti-vaxxer, I get that Dr. Andrew Wakefield's research on the link between the MMR vaccine and autism was debunked. I think a lot of parents understand that by now. But of the anti-vaxxers I know, none of them made their decision not to vaccinate based on that one study or on concerns of autism alone. So I'm sick of hearing all us vaccinators push this false study in their face as the reason why anti-vaxxers are morons that refuse to accept the safety of vaccines.
While the study likely sparked the current swell of fear over vaccination it is not what I believe most parents are now basing their decision to not vaccinate on.
It's more than a fear of Autism:
For me, and I'm guessing many other parents who want real information, the choice of whether or not to vaccinate has simply become overwhelming. For the most part I trust scientists and doctors. I believe in our family doctor and I trust her opinion. I love our doctor. I know she cares about us and I know she wants to keep us healthy. But...
I also believe it's possible that she hasn't been completely informed on all of the risks associated with vaccines. I don't trust Big Pharma (I am embarrassed to be using the term because it immediately conjures up an image of overly-paranoid conspiracy theorists). But NO, I don't believe that companies that stand to gain enormous sums of money from a product should be trusted with relaying completely accurate, unbiased information about their product. If you look at our governments, the manufactures etc. when have they ever been completely honest about what could or is going wrong?
The majority of us are not educated enough in the matter to ever fully determine the potential links between the pharmaceutical companies (who stand to gain profit) and the scientists, doctors and researchers who are recommending our current vaccine load. And most of the people who say the links are there and that they are producing scary results are the wackjobs that no one takes seriously.
When I was on the fence about vaccines I couldn't find anything that fully convinced me either way. I understand the serious damage these now-preventable illnesses can do. I understand how many of us need to oblige in order to obtain herd immunity. I get that the current available data says the safest choice statistically is to vaccinate.
However, I also see great benefit in our body's natural defence mechanisms and the dangers of suppressing them, especially at a young age when everything is developing. I've also seen how recommendations by doctors have changed over time as we have gained more information. What may have been prescribed thirty years ago wouldn't be now because serious risks and complications were discovered. Anyone remember Thalidomide? I do have doubts that the information we are being provided on vaccines is entirely accurate but I can't attribute that to either a conspiracy to hide the evidence or simply that our best minds just don't know for sure yet.
But what I do know is not all anti-vaxxers are way out in left field and the pressure that the rest of us are putting on them to do the right thing is freaking me out.
We are now talking about mandatory vaccination, banning unvaccinated children from schools and parks, fines and jail time for non-complying parents and potential removal of children from their families. For what? For questioning big corporations and our governments? For desiring more information before injecting their babies with something? For standing up and saying they don't feel comfortable with being pressured to make a decision they don't have the whole story on yet?
I want vaccination for our children. I want it to work. I want everyone to have it. I want us to do what we should to protect those who can't. But I also want the ability to choose when and how to use it based on reliable data that hasn't been tampered with by companies that stand to gain financially. I get that for vaccination to work we essentially have to all be on the same page. But I don't think we should be throwing our rights and freedoms away and condemning people who are trying to protect their children as horrible parents who are putting everyone else at risk...although that last part may be somewhat true.
I made the choice to vaccinate Babe. I still believe it was the right choice. But I did choose to delay her vaccine schedule by a few months and space them out and I believe I did the right thing. Would I have felt terrible if she had gotten seriously sick in that time. Of course I would have. I also would have felt terrible if she had passed a horrible illness onto another child. But at the time I knew the risks of her contracting something when she was mostly at home and exclusively breastfed were slim and I felt the risks of injecting her with multiple shots when she was still so tiny and racked with early digestive problems were worse.
And we still don't receive flu vaccines because I don't feel they are necessary. I do believe the individual shots might be innocuous but I think she's getting too many vaccines already to start getting annual vaccines for essentially mild illnesses.
Some parents will say that I was irresponsible for spacing out her shots and some will say I remain irresponsible for not getting her vaccinated against the flu. Or maybe they will say I am naive. That all the evidence shows she was safe to get her first round of shots shortly after birth. That I risked the lives of other kids by delaying her shots or by not getting her vaccinated for the flu. But my intuition told me she couldn't handle it all.
If you're not vaccinating right now the pressure is really on.
I'm thankful I'm not in your shoes. Look at the comments section of any vaccine-related news story and you can see how inflamed the debate has gotten and how much hatred there is towards parents who are opting out. They're being accused of risking the lives of compromised children that can't have the vaccines. Of endangering the masses. Of being idiots, hippies or conspiracy nut jobs. That may well be and it's scary.
But the alternative to not letting people decide or shutting them down when they call for more information is a loss of our rights as a society and less accountability from above.
For me, the data on the pro side seems pretty solid. Anyone would agree that your family doctor or the CDC website are your safest bet for up to date information. But I am also willing to concede that facts and figures could have been hidden from the general public, including doctors.
I also believe that as research advances and we learn new information, how we prevent illnesses will change - it always has in the past. and if that's true there will turn out to be regrets. Links will be found between causes and illnesses that at present we aren't aware of.
On the anti-vax side it is much harder to find credible information. So much of what is out there on why not to vaccinate comes from sources that I am trained to see as unreliable. Doctors and advocates with questionable reputations, websites and media whose motivations are hidden or aren't using credible, unbiased sources. But it paints a picture that all the reasons not to vaccinate are wrong and they aren't. Some have merit and should be investigated further.
There is no denying that for all our modern medicine we have higher rates of diabetes, obesity, autism, allergies and immune disorders. Some or most of that may be attributed to current lifestyle choices for example, obesity and diabetes. Other increased rates might be attributed to toxins introduced through pollution, GMO's or cheap plastic stuff. Increased autism rates are very likely due (at least partially) to a better understanding of the disorder, an increase in the spectrum of sufferers and improved screening measures.
But could we please not rule out that increasing the amount of vaccinations we are giving our kids could also be playing a role and we just don't know it yet?
I don't believe that the parents who are opting out are frivolously subjecting the rest of us to potentially lethal diseases just because they are flakes. I prefer to believe most of them are like me. Intelligent and well-meaning but skeptical and afraid of making the wrong choice. Attempting to be well-informed but not satisfied with the information available. And sick to death of being lied to by our government.
While I want to see vaccination working for us I see the vilification of anti-vaxxers taking us down a road that I don't want to go. I don't want to see parents making permanent choices for their children based on a fear of punishment. I don't want to see more polarization between the two sides. I don't want to see animosity grow between us on this subject to the point where people are being threatened or hurt. I don't want to see research into alternative medicine, historic practices and more holistic approaches decrease at a time when we should be investing in it further. I don't want to see reputable doctors and scientists not want to go on record or voice concerns about a vaccine or its ingredients for fear of being labeled a wing-nut or losing their careers. I don't want to see medicines pushed on us or our constitutional rights taken away. And I don't want to see less accountability for pharmaceutical companies and our governments.
When you write off all anti-vaxxers as ill-informed idiots you are shutting down the discussion on a very important practice in our society. If we could begin to accept that people who aren't currently vaccinating may have some points that are worth exploring and some questions that deserve better answers we may actually get a lot closer to higher vaccination rates as people begin to trust again.
Treating them like they already have the plague isn't going to get them on board with vaccination. Hearing their concerns and demanding real answers for everyone just might.
I've always found throwing rocks in the water very therapeutic, I guess it's genetic.
Or maybe it's just fun.
So readers, I'm sure you've been up nights worrying about where we are and what we are doing :P
Full circle. We are back in Vancouver, ironically at almost the exact same time I had originally planned on returning when I set out for the North.
Everything feels new...again.
We moved from the North to North Van. I've never lived on the North Shore before so that's all new.
We are settling into our new apartment. It's all unpacked, save for a couple boxes that I just can't seem to face. Maybe hauling the last of the cardboard to the recycling makes it all real? Maybe it's just laziness.
I'm back to working out excessively and running. It seems to be my go-to when I'm in transition. I stopped for awhile in Smithers. Again, maybe that was just laziness...or perhaps I just finally felt like I had nothing to run from.
Settled.
Either way, I'm not feeling very settled right now.
Babe is happy as a lark for the most part. She loooooves her new school and her new bedroom and seems basically unscathed by the traumatic whirlwind that tore my private little island apart.
Our new place is great, a good place to sit still.
For any single moms out there starting over...or over again; Find Comfort.
I run. I visit old friends. I pvr'd yoga because I can only do it late at night despite having free yoga right here in my building. I paint my nails in front of cheesy movies about women finding themselves. (I know...eye roll)
I've also got this amazing girl who brings her massage table to your place. It works great for a single mom who has already put the kid to bed and is stressed to the max but chained to the house!
I got back on a horse. I've planned a spa day on the island and I'm pumped to model for a photoshoot on Hornby.
And thank God for my probably exhausted but ever-supportive group of friends. They have spent endless hours over the last weeks listening at nauseam to every tiny detail of my current situation. A special shout out goes to E who despite me falling out of contact when busy never fails me when I come crawling back and J2 who has done more to boost me back up in the last few weeks than I could have ever asked for.
Some days I have a lot of anger, some days it's mostly tears and others I seem to pull strength out of somewhere and take steps forward. It's so strange to go from planning a future with someone to a whole new world. New babysitters, new preschool, new apartment, new plans, new friends, new dates.
I did manage to haul Babe to Calgary in the middle of my fog for my grandfather's (Babe's Grandpa, Grandpa's) funeral. Honestly, I don't even remember much of those few days, or the rush to pack and make arrangements down here. But here we are. Getting into a whole new routine.
Sprinkling my grandparent's ashes on the farm.
Flying back to Smithers.
It's still light out enough in the evenings for me to run along the river. There's one point in the trail where I get hit with a sweet smell so strong it feels like I've passed back into spring. I can't figure out what it is but it is intoxicating and it instantly fills me with an appreciation for the little things which I desperately need right now. I've even stopped and searched, nose-first for what it is. I recognize it but I've never had a great recollection for smells and I can't find where it's coming from - but it's so strong and so pure. I can't pin it down and I can't keep it, but I'm so thankful for it while it's here.
There's another point in the loop where I run along a ledge that's less than a foot across. I really like that part. Its occurred to me that it's only a matter of time before I fall and it'll probably really hurt (relax, it's only three or four feet high). It'll be embarrassing too. But every time I do it I get such a sense of satisfaction from it yet at the same time I worry that it's reckless and in hindsight it will seem quite silly when I fall.
But maybe I won't fall. Maybe I'll get faster, maybe I'll find a higher ledge.
I probably will fall though and it'll probably mean a trip to the ER. And I promise I'll post the pics so you can get a giggle out of my foolishness.
But until the fall comes, it's like that sweet smell in the forest...I just can't get enough.
So my good friend Rachael was a gymnastics instructor for years. And since Babe was born she has been a great "auntie" and always very encouraging of Babe's physical development.
One of the first times that Babe stood alone while holding onto a stool was with Rachael. Rachael helped Babe practice her first steps in the early days of walking and recently she taught Babe how to do a somersault (front roll).
So of course it was Rachael who, wanting to share her love of gymnastics, took Babe and I to a drop-in class at Jump Gymnastics in Yaletown, Vancouver.
Rachael helping Babe do a front roll.
The place is pretty cool. It's a full-on gymnastics gym with pint-sized equipment. There's fun trampolines, bars, rings, balance beams and foam everything. Babe of course loves it, although she may not be the Olympic hopeful that Rachael wants her to be and she certainly doesn't like to perform on command.
Owner/director Jennifer Hood was a gymnastics coach for over twenty years and has an education degree. After her middle child was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis she realized that her nine to five job wasn't going to fit her family's needs. "I'd get phone calls on Thursday for her to be admitted for two weeks on Monday morning and what kind of an employer is ever going to go for that arrangement?" said Hood.
So she quit her job and built Jump.
"It was born because I really believe in what developmental gymnastics can bring to kids for the lifetime of being elite athletes or just generally participating in sport and the foundation that we can create for them."
Hood said that despite originally planning on opening Jump in East Vancouver the Yaletown location has been a blessing in disguise. "It's been a great location that has been filled with incredibly supportive and engaged parents."
All of Jump's coaches have a degree in a related field such as education or kinesiology and a sports background. Hood bragged that one coach is a Canadian women's wrestling champion and others have been dancers, soccer players and swimmers. "We've had almost every sport represented over the last five years," said Hood.
Hood's experience and training has told her that the early age of Jump students is the perfect starting point for learning important physical skills. She said studies show that between the ages of zero and six is when kids learn language and number skills, but it is also the time when children learn physical literacy.
"That idea that there is a discrete set of movement pathways, whether it be; skipping, running, climbing, jumping, rolling. There's a whole bunch of them. If kids are taught those and allowed to explore them in an environment that is liberating and excites them...they acquire what's called physical literacy."
When kids later combine those fundamental movement skills with sports skills, "they can go on to explore any sport that interests them," said Hood.
Hood knows that only about one per cent of children enrolled in gymnastics will go on to be an elite athlete in the sport but she says there is so much more that the training and equipment can provide.
The equipment at jump is the real stuff that you would see in a gymnastics centre - just smaller. "It provides them with an interesting playground to work on those movement skills," said Hood.
Kids can jump, climb, balance and hang. Hood said she really enjoys that with the smaller equipment she never has to say, "'Don't touch that. That's too dangerous. Don't go near that."
Babe, of course, was an instant Jump fan. She immediately preferred the trampolines, the ball pit and the balance beams, but being a good sport she tried it all.
She's 17 months old now and just starting to really climb and explore the playground equipment. To help keep her busy on indoor days I scoured the city and finally found a toddler-sized slide for her bedroom. The first night she had it she must've gone up and down that thing 30 times.
Then it was bedtime and she passed out cold.
On the way home from a Jump drop-in class.
For more information on Jump's classes and drop in times visit the www.jumpgymnastics.ca
Right from the get-go Babe was a pretty fussy little princess. In fairness, for the first three or four months she had terrible tummy troubles, so she was fussy for good reason. She spent almost every waking minute (which was 90 per cent of the damn time) being coddled in someone's arms because her little body was just writhing with gas pain. So by the time the tummy troubles subsided she was so used to being cuddled and catered to that she was furious any time she was "abandoned" for even a couple minutes.
For whatever reason she was and kinda still is a really fussy baby. She hated the car and screamed throughout the ride. She wouldn't sleep for longer than an hour at a time and woke up anytime she was put down in her bed. As she got bigger she grew more and more frustrated by her own limitations and so she screamed when she wasn't happy, at any time, for any reason. Sometimes she would simply stop what happy little thing she was doing and scream for no reason at all other than to remind me that, although temporarily sated, overall she was still miserable.
According to various statistics approximately 20 to 25 per cent of babies have colic - which is just a fancy word for, "We don't know what the hell is wrong with this miserable child". Babe was definitely colicky. For sure. And when doctors said that it usually resolves itself in the first four months or so I thought I was going to die. Four months seemed like a long time. But the days turned to weeks and before long Babe's colic had passed. Of course it was replaced by her general bad attitude so I never really noticed that I'd made it past the colic finish line.
Now Babe is almost 16 months old and often still cranky but looking back there were some points along the way where her temperament improved; milestones that helped ease some of her misery and made both our lives a little better. I thought I'd share them here so that this post can stand as a beacon of hope for any new mothers that are wondering, "When is this baby going to stop crying?"
I shall call these milestones or changes "rays of light" because that's exactly what they are and you'll only understand the term when you're buried in the dark cloud of exhaustion that a fussy newborn can bring. And don't be surprised if you don't notice the improvement until later, because for me anyway the improvements were subtle.
The first two rays of light happened around the same time, I can't remember now which came first.
Babe just didn't know how to settle herself at bedtime. She was fussy and fidgety and needed constant cuddling and shushing etc. to get her to sleep. And then she never slept for long. But I knew early on that part of the problem was that she was uncomfortable sleeping on her back - which is the recommended way for babies to sleep. And sure enough, as soon as she learned to roll over I couldn't keep her on her back anymore. I was still paranoid about SIDS and for a while I would spend my nights reaching down and rolling her back over. But I gave up after the health nurse said that if she was strong enough to roll from front to back and vise versa she was strong enough to sleep on her tummy without suffocating. And it did make a difference. Babe started sleeping for longer periods - not much longer - but any little bit was a blessing. And the more sleep she got the happier she was during the day.
Babe still sleeps mostly on her tummy.
Also around the same time Babe started solids. Always a big milestone for babies it definitely calmed Babe a bit. For the first while eating carries provides a lot of entertainment value for babies. Everything is new and exciting and meal times help break up the day into manageable chunks. I don't know if Babe was just really hungry when only supplied with breast milk or if the solids helped settle her tummy a bit but whatever the reason, when she started eating she did become a little less fussy.
The next ray of light shone when Babe became mobile. When she could crawl around and explore and wasn't just stranded on a mat on the floor every time I left the room she became much happier. Again everything was exciting, she had more independence and it seemed to calm her.
Then when she started walking she took off and left her bad attitude in the dust. Of course, she went back and found it later. But walking has made a huge difference in her general disposition. She's free, she's fast, she's a big girl and it makes her really happy. Plus she uses a lot more energy during the day which translates to better sleeps at night which translates to a happier baby during the day. If you have a baby that seems bummed out maybe he just hates sitting still. Look forward to crawling and walking, it might bring out the best in your little one.
As far as the car goes Babe still hates it. But being able to use a forward-facing car seat did help a bit. Babe can see out now and I can see her and interact with her more while we are driving. She can see me in the mirror, we can point things out to each other and I can pass her snacks or toys if needed. Babe is probably never going to be pro-road trip but at least she's not as anti-car as she was before. Of course now the recommendations for car seats have changed in Canada and they say a baby should stay rear-facing until they are two. But trying to drive while Babe shrieks in the back isn't safe either so I'm gonna stick with our forward-facing seat. Whether you choose to put your little one in a forward-facing seat after age one or not until they are two just know that you may get some relief from your cranky passenger once they are looking forward.
I hope that my personal rays of light have given you some hope that things will improve. I know it seems like nothing works with your cranky baby but I bet in a couple years you'll look back and realize that there were some key changes that gradually helped lighten their little spirits.
Sorry. I missed all of October. I've had some distractions, not the least of which has been my quest for meaningful employment. I've been looking for a job in journalism since mid-August and my maternity leave ended in mid-October. So for almost a month now I have officially been unemployed and I tell ya - it doesn't feel good.
I was pregnant during my last semester of school and by the time my internship was over I was too obviously pregnant to expect anyone to hire me. It was then that I made the choice to put off starting a career in media and instead go back to working as a nanny. Which I did on a short-term contract to squirrel away enough hours to get my maternity leave.
But now that Babe has celebrated her first birthday (more on that later) it's time for me to go to work. The problem is there doesn't seem to be any work for me to go to. Not in my industry anyway. So as of now I'm still at home with my baby, taking care of her but not "working" at a regular 9-5 job. And because of this lack of employment, a first for me since I was 15, I often find myself questioning my value.
I know that raising children is work. And I know there is great value in it. Being a mother that stays home with her children is certainly of immeasurable worth to the family unit and a child's development. I know I'm making a difference for my baby; that me being with her in these tender years is important. I've heard the people who say, "Motherhood is the most important job there is". But it doesn't feel that way.
For starters there is the lack of a pay cheque. And without an income you immediately lose the yard stick by which we generally measure worth. There's also the lack of peer evaluations, performance reviews, promotions, raises, bonuses...all the workplace milestones that we brag to our friends about and hold up as examples of our success.
And when your friends are earning X amount of money per year and you're bringing in nothing it's hard to find your footing on the playing field. In a world where everything is guided by the almighty dollar what's a stay at home mom worth? When your day consists of diapers and playgrounds how do you retain a sense of personal value?
As important as I know it is to be here for Babe I can't help but feel like I'm not accomplishing anything.
This past year I've found myself placing too much value on how clean my house is or how many errands I can perform in a day. Having a sink void of dirty dishes somehow makes me feel better about myself and that isn't OK. Don't get me wrong, being able to maintain a household with a baby on the loose is no easy feat but it's just not enough for me. I don't want to define myself with such boring accomplishments.
It's definitely my ego that's the problem here. And society is getting into my head too. A person shouldn't be more or less valuable based on their income. The more you make the better you most certainly are not. Yet here I am, feeling crappy about myself because I'm not "working".
Right now I'm not the breadwinner. But I can't be the stay-at-home-mom much longer either. I'm not a trophy wife or a kept woman and I never will be if I keep eating dessert at this rate (seriously). So what am I? And whatever that is, what's it worth?
In August of 2000 while spending the summer working on Hornby Island I adopted the cutest little orange tabby that you ever saw. She was so tiny and so lovable that I carried her around in my little handbag while I worked cleaning campsites. She was the hippie version of the chihuahua in a purse. I named her Sprout. During the day she stayed with me, working and driving around in my car. And at night she cuddled with me in my damp, dark cabin.
She came with a lung infection that gave her a rattling cough. The infection eventually killed all the other kittens from her litter. But Sprout (being the only one who was adopted) got expensive vet care, paid for through the savings of my cleaning job, and she recovered nicely.
I wish I could show you photographs of how cute she was back then but that was during the age of film so I have none on this computer.
Sprout has been a loyal companion for over twelve years now. She was with me through the trials and tribulations of my twenties - probably the most significant period of personal growth I will ever have. Through break-ups and make-ups, depression and elation she was there. She was there when I came home from dates, from work, from long days at the beach. She was there when I didn't come home at all.
She snuggled with me under the blankets during lonely winter storms and she splayed out on top of the sheets when the summer nights were too hot to cuddle. She spent nights alone on top of the blankets when I stayed out all night and she begrudgingly slept on the couch when insensitive new boyfriends kicked her off the bed in the night.
Sprout was my baby for a long time. And I loved her as much as anyone loves their pet.
But the night I went into labour the cats (I have another named Bina, adopted specifically to keep Sprout company while I was at work) were whisked out of the house by my mom. The plan was for them to stay with my parents just until I got back on my feet. But things were so rough with Babe's colic that the cats stayed away longer than I had planned. Weeks turned into months and I was too tired to feel much guilt about not bringing them home. I wrote about leaving the cats here before.
Finally I did fetch them. But Babe still wasn't sleeping well and Sprout, now old and finicky, paced the house meowing at all hours. I couldn't handle less sleep and J's grumblings about the noise so off she went, back to stay with my parents.
There was a new baby in the house. And Sprout's needs had all but dropped off my radar.
I felt really bad. I remembered that scene in The Lady and the Tramp when the other dogs warn Lady that her family won't love her as much when the human baby arrives. And sure enough, once the baby is there the previously pampered family dog is tripped over and scolded and left out in the cold. I knew I was betraying Sprout, but I was just so tired and so consumed with Babe. And honestly, the love I had for my cats now paled in comparison to the love I had for Babe.
This last year Sprout has aged a lot. She finally came home again but the meowing and the pacing got worse. I took her to the vet with a Googled diagnosis of hyperthyroidism and the tests confirmed it. They put her on medication and the manic behaviour subsided.
But clearly there is something else wrong with my little kitty. She's rapidly losing weight (a pound in the last month alone). And in the last couple weeks she has all but ceased eating and drinking. The food sits in the bowl all day, growing stale until I replace it with fresh stuff in the hopes that maybe she feels better today. She must be drinking a little but I've seen no sign of it. At night I sometimes hear her struggling to chew a couple dry kibbles, but she won't touch the canned food, chicken, tuna or kitten milk that I've got here for her.
I took her back to the vet the other day and explained my problem. I'm a single mom on employment insurance, with no job to go back to when the support runs out at the end of the month. The cat is already elderly and frail from an injury that almost cost her her life a few years back. As much as I love her I simply can't justify spending hundreds, possibly thousands of dollars on diagnostic tests that will surely reveal a problem too expensive for me to fix.
Logically it makes sense. I have to think of the baby and myself right now. I've been looking for work for over a month already. What if I drop a ton of money on vet bills and then I can't pay the rent?
But I feel like a terrible person. This creature that has obsessively loved me every day, who has been my loyal companion and has literally licked the tears off my cheeks is dying and I won't help her. Through all the friends and lovers who have come and gone she was always there. She never left me. And now in her darkest hour I feel like I'm failing her.
I am trying. I bought her some medication to ease her nausea and stimulate her appetite. I'm eye-dropping water into her mouth and trying to keep the baby from terrorizing her while she is so fragile. But I'm only treating the symptoms, she probably has a tumor or a serious illness. If I had the money maybe she could be fixed. Maybe she could have another few years of good health. But instead I've had to decide she either gets better on her own or she doesn't.
And maybe I'm anthropomorphizing but I feel like she understands the situation. She used to be terrified of the babies I brought home. But she loves Babe and even as sick as she is wants nothing more than to cuddle with us while I'm nursing. She follows me around but stays out of the way. And aside from the pill I have to jam down her throat every night she seems resigned to her daily regimen of medicines.
I'm still hoping she will get better and be our kitty for a few more years. But if she doesn't improve I hope she forgives me for turning so much of my attention away.
