Tag Archives: babies

Sob Story

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"Mother and Child," by William Zorach

For me, breastfeeding ROCKED.

I absolutely reveled in the nine months I spent nursing each of my daughters. It brought sweetness, peace, health, relaxation, natural breast enhancement, rapid weight loss – what’s not to love?

I’ll tell ya: PUMPING.

Now, I haven’t tested the latest model portable breast pumps, but I’m pretty darn sure they’ve evolved greatly from the one I used 15 years ago. The contraption was unwieldy and uncomfortable. It took quite an effort to assemble and put to use. Worst of all, it was noisy.

No, make that NOISY.

I recall a particularly cringeworthy 20 minutes spent pumping in the ladies’ room of a client’s office during a meeting break. It’s quite possible passersby thought the restroom was being renovated — if not completely demolished and rebuilt from scratch — as the monstrous whirring of the milking machine echoed off the tile.

But of course it was worth the effort to be able to provide that free and natural wonder food for my babes while I was away from them. And I was recently reminded of my pumping days when a dear friend, the mom of 6-month-old twins, told me she’d tipped over a full bottle of breast milk and…had a bit of a freak out. All that time and effort down the drain — or the side of the kitchen counter, as it were.

She knew I’d empathize.

She knew I’d understand that she wasn’t overreacting.

She knew I’d write a poem about it.

So, here’s to you, dear friend, and every breastfeeding mom out there: May your pumps run smoothly, may your freezers stay full and may you never spill a single drop.

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Sob Story

After hours at a pump that’s been plying
Liquid gold from them, there’s no denying
Moms of lactating ilk
Know there’s one kind of milk
That – when spilt – fully justifies crying.

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©2012 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz

Full Advantage

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Early in my first pregnancy, I had to travel to San Francisco for business, and I hated it.

Having been advised to abstain from eating raw fish, I had to avoid sushi -  while I was in San Francisco on an expense account, no less. Alas!

That first time around, I made a whole-hearted effort to follow expert advice (from doctors, books and experienced mom friends) on healthy maternity eating. But I’ll admit that I didn’t always follow the rules. Though my baby and my health were never in danger, I overindulged in my cravings – sweets and carbs – and paid the price with some stubborn post-partum poundage.

The second time around, I got even more lax with my eating habits. I justified extra helpings with ye olde “eating for two” excuse. I couldn’t resist the creamy concoctions of our favorite local sweet shop. And I remember with a certain fondness an all-you-can-eat Mother’s Day brunch buffet. Pre-pregnancy, I could never seem to make it to a second helping at such places.

This time, suffice it to say I got my money’s worth.

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Full Advantage

The best thing for me
about my pregnancy
(aside from the child
that eventually would be)

was the way I could behave
with the food that I would crave:
no more calories would menace,
no more diets would enslave.

Full advantage did I take,
eating “for the baby’s sake,”
though my doctor hadn’t quite
recommended chocolate cake.

Nor was ice cream on her list
and somehow she also missed
plates of pasta, fries and pie
in every flavor that exists.

Anchovies, butter brickle –
no, my tastebuds weren’t too fickle,
though I have to say I never
ever ever craved a pickle.

(Now of course I had my share
of the good and healthy fare,
but rhyming “broccoli” and “orange”
is a challenge I don’t dare.)

Bagels, lox and creamy cheese;
crackers, bread and spreads of brie;
had me munching day and night—
“Pass the queso, could you please?”

Mashed potatoes heaped in mounds,
meatloaf sliced in saucy rounds,
made their way into my tummy
made me gain a few more pounds.

And while the weight I gained so fleetly
didn’t go away completely,
I still hunger for those days
and remember them — quite sweetly.

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©2011 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz

Ultra-ultra-ultrasound

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Then. 

Now.

The other day, a preggers friend of mine posted her ultrasound pics on Facebook.

Wow. Have things changed in the 12 years since I was last pregnant.

The ultrasound images I got of my soon-to-come kiddos more than a decade ago were old school: blurry, static-y, black-and-white and barely discernible. They pale in comparison (literally and figuratively) to today’s three-dimensional, multicolor, fully enhanced scans. Heck, you can probably see Junior’s freckles in today’s versions.

Not surprisingly, there now exist full-service imaging centers that sell 3-D ultrasound packages akin to the offerings at a Sears Portrait Studio.  This one features a “Platinum Peek” package that includes 10 wallet-size color 3D pictures, two DVDs of the entire “session” set to music, plus a “gender peek upon request.”

When did ultrasounds go from being a medical procedure to something you could buy at a strip mall?

If I consider this fascinating/weird/amazing, I can only imagine what the matrons of my mother’s generation must think. Back then, a mom-to-be had no idea what her kiddo might look like – much less whether it was a girl or a boy – until she awoke from her drug-induced stupor to meet her offspring for the first time.

We chose not to learn the gender for either of our babies (both girls, as it turned out), much to the disbelief and consternation of many of our contemporaries. Call us old-fashioned, but we just wanted to wait for the surprise.

Given the choice, I don’t think we would have opted for the Platinum Peek package, either.

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Ultra-ultra-ultrasound

For those scans of the babe who’s expected,
the technology’s been so perfected
that they’re now in 3-D,
fit for HDTV,
like productions James Cameron directed.

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© 2011 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz