AGOO BLOG

On a typical afternoon I often find myself pushing my son in his stroller as we buy our groceries, go to the bank, pick up our dry-cleaning and shop at the local stores on our busy street.  Sitting in his front row seat, meandering through the crowd, my three year old happily says “hello”, “hi” and occasionally “nice dog” to the many people passing by. Sadly, I have to report that few will reply, or say hello back or acknowledge his attempt at being friendly.

Just last week, as we walked into an elevator, my son joyfully said hello to the two adults already riding and neither one answered him back. He said it again then looked at me, confused, as they got off on the next floor without answering back.

On a trip to the doctor’s office, we had to see the temporary physician on call. She walked into the room, robotically introduced herself and buried her face in his chart. Using the proper etiquette, I introduced my son, and then told him her name again, just so he felt safe and comfortable with a new person. Precociously and like any three year old, he ask how old are you?  Her reply, straight-faced and without an ounce of friendliness, was, “None of your business.”

It took a lot of willpower for me not to remark on her rudeness and obviously bizarre insecurities in front of a curious toddler. As a doctor, a professional someone trained to have compassion, her cold personality and mechanical social skills left me having to explain to my son why people don’t always want to say how old they are.

”I’m fourteen,” he falsely boasts to her, making his own attempt at soothing what he interpreted as her shyness. I don’t think she actually looked him straight in the eye the entire examination, and did nothing to reciprocate his gesture of friendliness.

Teaching your child values is a fundamental part of their entry and existence into society. Friendliness, compassion, empathy, and awareness of others rank as the key components to social behavior and social acceptance. Constantly we are teaching and reinforcing the proper behavior to our kids in all situations from the moment they move from babies to toddlers.  “Say please, ask nicely, be sure to share, look at a person when you speak to them.”  It is an absolute must for most families to instill these behaviors, and yet the adults in this busy world are not setting the example or being what they expect the children to be.

How do you explain to a child that an adult is ignoring them? What words do you use to say that for no real reason a person just doesn`t feel like being nice? It breaks my heart when I see the rejection in his eyes or the disappointment he feels when his bright hello doesn’t elicit a bright hello in return. Of course not all strangers shun his openness; a few do respond and actually take the time to speak with his darling and curious little nature. Unfortunately the ones who don’t answer stick in his mind, and he asks me why is that person mad, or why won`t they say hello?

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This year, five of my girlfriends had their first child. I was also pregnant, but with my second. As their bellies grew, they stopped looking at me with a bored stare.  Instead, the first time moms gushed and cooed about my growing baby.  Now each of them were interested and enthusiastic about the arrival of their own child and could not stop talking about everything baby.As each of them went on at length about the anticipation and excitement of growing a new life, they often asked me: “What’s it like to be a mother?”

It is a difficult question to answer, being a young mom myself, but when I finally found the words I replied, ’It is the hardest hard you will ever know along with the greatest love you will ever feel.”

A lump in my throat forms from just saying it. Never in my youth did I even think I would have kids, and of course the career girl couldn’t stand kids, the yuppie didn’t even think she wanted kids, yet now the mother of two wouldn’t know what to do if she didn’t have those kids.

You can never explain the transformation that occurs once a child arrives. Each and every one of us have gone nights—months!—without sleeping, changed more poo, seen more puke, spit up and every other body fluid than humanly possible.  We’ve walked a crying baby for hours, slept sitting up or on the floor beside a crib, drove aimlessly to induce sleep or done whatever ridiculous amusement required keeping a baby happy.

The hard is harder than you can explain. The demands, the unknown, the endless consoling, feeding, burping, diaper changing and, just when they are content for a moment, it starts all over again. There is no instruction booklet or guaranteed solutions to colic, acid reflux, night terrors or striders. The diaper rash, cradle cap, fevers, crying, teething, constipation, crying, running nose, heat rash, croup, diarrhea, and did I mention crying? It takes its toll on any human being.

When you are on the verge of tears or too tired to sleep, you never imagined it was going to be this hard.

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Sex, Here I come…

This week I celebrated my daughter’s nine month birthday. It seems hard to believe that nine months have passed since she arrived. So many exciting things have happened in her development and each day I am in awe as her little personality emerges.

In those nine months we have been inundated with pink clothes, midnight feedings, the sighing sound she makes when she sleeps and of course the squeals she makes when she’s awake. She’s brought so much to our world and I am grateful that she chose us as her parents.

Of course, I could go on and on about all the amazing things that have transpired since her arrival, but what I really want to talk about is that in those nine months, the number of times that I’ve had sex I can count on both my hands.

Having a baby is a huge transformation and it seems that once the labour part is over and all of the healing has taken place (in my case I had a caesarean section), we expect ourselves and are expected, by our partners, to kick into gear and resume our sexual routine.  NOT!

I would like to know why no scientific grants or government money is allotted to study the effects and conditions of post-pregnancy sexual stimuli. I myself have had to, on numerous occasions, explain to my husband that “not feeling like it” has nothing to do with him. Additionally I have had to explain (and this is where I think the scientist should step in) that Mom’s body and brain are on other things.

Of course, before baby came, having one’s breast massaged and paid attention to felt good, tantalizing and erotic. But now after continuous nursing, suckling and, if your child is older like mine, tugging, biting and trying to hang on while turning to see Sesame Street, has pretty much ensured that all of those feelings are shut off and gone. I actually believe my brain has HAD TO remove all sense of sexual stimulation to that area because now having my child nursing seven to ten times a day–in the car, at the playground, in the restaurant bathroom–has basically zapped the “ I’m  still an sexual  entity” right out of me . Now my breasts are no longer for playing with, they’re here to perform a job.

Of course my husband still wants them to perform the job he likes most, but I keep thinking, “How can one possibly be expected to feed baby in one minute and then a few minutes later be aroused and excited?” I assure him that he’ll have no better luck south of the border.  All I want to do is sleep!  I’m not sure about you, but the time, energy and work that goes into that voyage is often way more than I have at the end of a day filled with gymnastics, blowing up the mini swimming pool, feeding Carco, my son’s imaginary dog, and having the city gas company ringing my doorbell to tell me they have to dig up my newly landscaped yard to find a leak in a pipe. Where’s the arousal in that?

Even when a day is moderately filled with my son insisting on wearing his shirt backwards or the  hysterics of a lost toy, I still find it hard to muster the strength (or should I say juices) to perform in the night. This is where my doctor (female, of course) has actually come to the rescue explaining that: during breast feeding a woman’s body often loses its “quick response” to become aroused. Lack of lubrication is common in breastfeeding women, because estrogen levels are low. Normally when you are sexually excited, two special glands at the entrance of the vagina, called Bartholin’s glands, produce extra secretions. The moisture from these glands is more slippery than the moisture from the cervix, because its purpose is to provide good lubrication during intercourse. While breast-feeding, vaginal dryness and painful intercourse can occur as Estrogen levels are low, causing the vagina to become thin, inelastic, and dry.

Thank goodness someone was able to explain it, because on all of those days I spent making banana bread with my Mom, we never got to that conversation! On the upside, I have been told: your clinician can give you some estrogen cream to use vaginally every night for a week or two and then once or twice a week. This will improve your symptoms without affecting your milk supply. Breast-feeding women vary in how quickly the dryness resolves. For some it is with the return of menstrual periods; for others dryness lasts a longer period of time.

Aware of this information, I have been getting the pressure to end the breast feeding stint as my little girl has reached her ninth months. My husband’s request has been duly noted but I am still not 100% ready to give it up and have even become endeared towards the tugging and yanking, knowing that the countdown to the end is inenviably near.

It isn’t a perfect situation—who do I make more important to?  My daughter, who needs it?  My husband, whose patience is outstanding?  Or myself, who adores being a mother yet has the distant feelings of a woman in lust?  I know we are sexual beings where intimacy and intercourse has definite importance in our relationships, but I still find it hard to convince my body and my brain to make the necessary effort.  An effort where there should be no effort, just enjoyment and pleasure, where kids aren’t looming on your mind and where the slightest gurgle from the other room doesn’t break your concentration. Again, where are the scientific facts to back me up and assure me that one day soon I’ll feel normal again and S E X will be grander than ever?

Standing on my soapbox,

JB

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