My little sweetheart joined me almost 2 weeks ago, on her due date of all days. My contractions started on the Friday evening and she wasn’t born until Sunday late morning, a 40 something hour marathon and the toughest work I’ve ever done. They say the tough stuff comes with the best rewards and looking at my daughter’s face I can see how for once “they” are right. The labour luckily went just as I had hoped and planned and was all natural (that is to say without an epidural). Proving to myself and those around me just how strong I am and what I am capable of. Continue reading
It’s hard to be a pregnant feminist (read: pregnant woman). All the demands and restrictions, shouldn’ts and responsibility; it’s enough to drive a woman to smoke!
We shouldn’t dye our hair, have too much sugar, soft cheese, rare steak, certain fish, many kinds of herbs and teas (one site I consulted listed pretty much every herb and included ginger and “medicinal amounts of garlic”, whatever that is.), one friend even told me (unsolicited) that he read somewhere that I shouldn’t drink pop. We shouldn’t have vigorous sex, or bend over in certain ways later into our pregnancy, or sleep on our backs, or stomachs or change the cat litter, or be around paint fumes, or be in a hot tub or carry heavy things, etc etc. When I googled “pregnant women shouldn’t…” I learned we shouldn’t actually “eat for two” (in case we might have misunderstood that expression and just listened to our bodies) and of course the most frequent and stern of warnings and judgments are reserved for pregnant women who drink! Continue reading