From September till December, my daughter LOVED school. She hated to miss a day. She had a fantastic, nurturing teacher at her alternative school. Staff changes that parents were not warned of in any way occurred over the holidays, and when my daughter returned, she suddenly had two teachers - neither of them very nurturing and quite the opposite of fantastic.
On my daughter's first day back after Christmas holidays, she bounded happily up to her new teacher's desk. "Can you open my banana?" she asked sweetly. (It's how my daughter talks when she doesn't know someone very well - sweetly.)
Her teacher looked down her nose at my daughter with a scowl on her face and said "Excuse me but I won't help you do anything until you use your manners." My daughter came home crying over that one. She stressed all night about it. "But I was so nice when I asked, Mom!"
I agreed that it was a bit harsh, but told my daughter she needs to remember her manners and I encouraged her to have a positive attitude about the next day.
The next day was no better than the first. The kids I carpool from my daughter's class concurred. The new female teacher is mean and the new male teacher is not much better. My daughter is beginning to have serious anxiety about school. "What if they don't let me use a calculator, Mom? What if they ask me questions in class?!"
I had moved heaven and earth to find the right school for my daughter where her learning disability would not impair her confidence and where the philosophy was one of nurturing and caring. As far as I was concerned, the evil anxiety needed to be nipped in the bud.
Day three of my daughter being back from holidays I descended on the school with her Psych. Ed. Assessment in hand. I spoke briefly with the male teacher and had an office visit with the female teacher. I could immediately tell that she was an ass-kisser and a fake. But she promised to let my daughter use a calculator and not fire questions at her (which she doesn't do anyway, she said).
I shared some of the transition our family has experienced over the past year and hoped that our talk would encourage the teacher to be gentle with my daughter. She requires a delicate approach, I emphasized.
Holy backfire on my ass, Batman! Over the next week, my daughter was perpetually being punished for one thing or another. This information was all served up to me with the "sincere understanding" that my daughter has been through a lot lately and with the new baby coming any day now, it's probably that she's just transitioning. She used my sharing of our family's hardships as an excuse to punish my daughter for her "behavior."
Let me stop here to say that never in all of my daughter's educational career has any teacher had problems with her "behavior." What I hear from teachers and other parents is "your daughter is such a pleasure"; "she has such a big heart"; "I love having her in my class / over at my house"; and even "she's my favourite."
The female teacher only teaches two full days a week but she is also the vice principal, so she is at the school every day. My daughter attended her classes with the male teacher in between with only minor trepidation, but she dreaded Tuesday when once again, she would spend the day in this woman's class.
The following Tuesday arrives and I pep talk my daughter in the morning. Behave your best, no talking in class, listen to everything the teacher tells you to do...just be yourself, Angel. I can't imagine my daughter misbehaving so terribly that any teacher wouldn't like her.
Later that day I get a strange message on my phone from my daughter. She sounds like she's distracted by other people in the school office and she tells me "Mom, I have something important to tell you after school." I admit my first instinct was to jump in the car and go straight to the school. I sensed something was wrong. But was working from home on a deadline and the message had seemed innocent enough. Plus school was almost out.
When I arrived at the end of the day to pick up the kids, my son had left something behind in his class so we didn't see his sister right away. Actually, the bitch teacher came up to me before I saw my daughter and proceeded, very ingratiatingly, to tell me that my daughter had had "yet another bad day." Then she offered her reassurances that it was probably because of the transition to two new teachers, and the impending birth of her new little sister.
I had a distinct feeling like she was trying to put out some kind of fire and I wondered what had happened during the day. I was already sick of her and responded quite frankly that she was the first teacher who had ever had a bad thing to say about my daughter, then I walked away from her when she was in mid-sentence.
On the drive home, my daughter burst into sobs and told me about how her teacher had swatted her across the nose. The story goes that the teacher had asked the children to close their eyes because they were going to use their imaginations. My daughter didn't close her eyes and Mrs. Fucking Bitch leaned in her face, said menacingly "CLOSE YOUR EYES," and swatted her hand in front of my daughter's face, clipping (inadvertently, I like to believe) my daughter's nose.
My girl was inconsolable. I wanted to turn around and drive directly back to the school but she begged me not to. I have been a victim of assault and I have been a support worker for many years. I recognized the signs of trauma and of course, I did not turn around and go back. She stayed home the next day while I tried to decide how I was going to handle this new development. Rage seethed in my veins.
On Thursday, I called the school and requested to have a meeting with my daughter's teacher, who is also the vice principal, let's not forget. (In fact, due to low numbers and as part of the staff changeover during Christmas break, our school had the "principal" position taken away and given to the principal of a nearby school who was rarely on the property. I hadn't even met her yet.) I was given a meeting time for Friday morning.
I also took my daughter back to school on that day because the male teacher was in class. Over the course of the day, my daughter shared with some of her friends what her female teacher had done and how her mom (that's me) considers it assault. A couple of the children ran up on lunch and told another teacher about it.
If you can believe this, that teacher confronted my daughter about it! Oooh, I just tremble with rage to think of it. Another teacher at the school who has absolutely nothing to do with the situation, hears about a possible assault by a teacher on a student, and instead of phoning me or talking to a teacher my daughter knows and trusts, or arranging a meeting with me or anything that would be more appropriate if a child is abused by an adult, went to directly confront my daughter about it.
My girl started crying and said it was only a rumour. Then she went to the office and phoned me. I had told her that she should phone me for any reason, and I had let the secretary in the office know this too. She told me what had happened and I was outraged.
I spoke to the secretary and said that I wanted to know how some teacher felt she could approach my child in this way. She apologized and assured me that the vice-principal (yes, the self-same bitch who assaulted my daughter) had heard about the "rumour" and instructed all the teachers to not approach my daughter without me present.
I was also told that our meeting would need to be postponed to Monday morning because the vice-principal was busy all Friday in the library (another one of the places where my children must interact with her).
By Friday, my daughter is feeling the cold looks and disapproving attitudes directed at her from some of the teachers. Fortunately there are two teachers who treat her kindly and make her feel safe - one is the aboriginal outreach worker and she's only in a couple times a week and the other is a teacher who previous to now had always terrified my daughter. He is an imposing man, with a strong personality, and a take no prisoners attitude. Certainly not what I'd call "nurturing" but a welcome replacement for Mrs. Swat-Your-Face any day. That day I went on a tour of another elementary school near my house - just to check out our options.
Monday morning, we had our meeting. "What do you think she'll say, Mama?" my daughter asks on the way to school. She has stressed and cried all weekend. "I think she'll deny it," I told her honestly. "Then what will you say?" she asked. "I'll tell her that my daughter doesn't lie," I assured her.
My daughter had already decided that if there was any way to salvage this relationship with her teacher, she wanted to stay at the school where she had developed some very close friendships and where she had previously loved being a student. I had no idea how I was going to manage to express my outrage and also smooth things out for my daughter, but I did my best during that meeting. I really did.
She denied it as I knew she would. And I told her that my daughter doesn't lie, as I said I would. I gave her an out, however. I conceded that it may have been unintentional and that we'd like to find a way for my daughter to feel comfortable in school again and that we didn't want to pull her out.
The teacher promised she would try her best to win over my daughter (fucking liar) and I offered several suggestions ranging from "using a different, more nurturing approach" to "stop telling the class how much better than them her last class had been." (Of course, she denied that she'd ever done this either although many students and parents had informed me this was a daily occurrence.)
Let me just say that by this point, two other parents had shared similar bullying experiences of this teacher towards their children where the teacher squeezed their shoulders very hard digging her nails in. I did not bring this point up as I felt it was the responsibility of the other parents to address it. I did say, however, that I did not think that ANY physical contact between a teacher and a grade five student was necessary and she said perhaps I was right. (She's an ass-kissing, two-faced bitch.)
That day, my daughter was punished by yet another teacher for asking a question in class about imaginary friends. Already fuming in general, I let that one go. But I did approach the teacher the next morning to introduce myself (and subtly let her know that I was aware of her now and she was on my radar). Punishing a child for asking a question. This was going too far. And this is a child care worker!
Tuesday marked the third week back at school with the offending teacher. We pep talked, we visualized positive energy, we mentally prepared and when the whole day went by without a phone call home, I was optimistic. I showed up a few minutes early for dismissal, however, and was quickly pulled aside by the secretary.
She told me that my daughter had been "misbehaving again" and had been "sent to backup again." (Previously to now, Sophia had only once ever been sent to backup - the preferred punishment method of the school - and she'd been devastated because she so rarely got in trouble.)
Apparently, she continued to misbehave in backup and when she was sent back to her classroom, she had come to the office asking to phone me. Instead of letting her phone me, like I had requested the week before, the secretary told her "I will take care of you," took her back to her classroom and left her there to be reprimanded by the dragon lady for going to the office without permission.
At this point, my daughter broke down and told her teacher that she hated her.
Upon hearing all this, I was trembling with anger. I did not care if my daughter WAS misbehaving, this was bullshit. Last week the woman assaults her, and this week she's not allowed to phone home when she's feeling alone and vulnerable?
I spoke quite firmly with the secretary that I thought my daughter should have been allowed to phone me because of the assault and that my daughter had never had "behaviour problems" with her former teacher. The secretary responded that the previous teacher had no control over the class and that our kids needed to learn some respect. She also told me that she didn't believe my daughter about the assault because the teacher had denied it.
"My daughter doesn't lie," I told her. I'm ready to tear this school apart at this point. But I haven't heard my daughter's side of the story yet and I need to know what else happened and how everything had come to this point.
Meanwhile, the teacher is supplicating to me that she is trying so hard with my daughter but nothing is working. She's letting so many things go and making such an effort..."But I don't do rude," she finished. She's indicating that it is my child who is rude.
Another night of listening to my daughter's concerns and I laid sleepless for four hours. How could I send my daughter to school to be the target of so many adults, rallying together to protect another adult? Who was protecting my daughter?
That was two days ago. Yesterday, unable to send my daughter into the lion's den unaccompanied, I asked to sit in on the class and volunteer or observe. I was told no. So I sat outside the classroom all day. It was the first day that my daughter had with this teacher that didn't disintegrate into disaster. I guess evening out the odds (of adults taking sides, that is - and I am equal to as many adults as they can muster against my child) made the difference. I also called the principal and asked for a meeting.
She said she can't organize her schedule around the fact that I'm due to go into labour any moment, but she'd get back to me this week as to when we could all meet for an appointment. She also made the suggestion that I let my daughter talk to me about her feelings. Wow, eh? Sounds like she's really going to help us solve these problems. (dripping with sarcasm)
After school, I got to witness Mrs. Bad-Actress-I-Can-See-Right-Thru-You in her glory. A boy who is known at the school for having some issues and needing extra support, ran up to her with a big smile on his face. I didn't hear what he said, but I heard her loud and clear. She turned to him, looked down her nose, and said in a condescending voice "Excuse me, but I am having a conversation right now and it is rude to interrupt."
He seemed confused at first. He continued to smile waiting for her next comment, but she turned from him to the parent, effectively dismissing him. His smile faltered, he walked away, and she never did get to hear whatever his good news was.
Now you tell me who's rude?
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Vaccination Epiphany
I have been reading a book about childhood vaccinations. The amount of information that is held back from parents is astonishing. I have changed my entire outlook on vaccinations.
After seeing how much a small amount of artificial colour or flavour (gumball from machine) can do to my son, I am sickened to think of the amount of toxic chemicals I let the "medical establishment" inject into both my children when they were only months old.
I remember when my son was about five months old (and shortly after he had his 4 month vaccinations), he suddenly stopped going to sleep easily in his crib or bassinet. What followed was years of having to sleep with my son, lie down with him at night, get up with him through the night, etc. I wonder now if it was the vaccine that caused it.
The author of the book I'm reading accurately points out that we are injecting our children with massive amounts of toxins as well as a virus or five when their immune systems are only 2, 4, and 6 months old! What was I thinking? I did it with both my children!
Now I am pregnant with my third and my experiences with a medical establishment I've grown to distrust completely, prompted me to research vaccines. I don't give my kids anything anymore without researching it thoroughly.
The author also shows studies that demonstrate a clear correlation with a sudden and huge increase in learning disabilities, children with various disorders on the autism spectrum, and autoimmune diseases with the advent of more and more new vaccines.
Can you imagine if the government and the medical establishment admitted to the mass harm of children through mandatory vaccinations? It will never happen in my lifetime. Maybe when most of the people who pushed it through are dead and they can blame it on the ignorance of our ancestors.
In the meantime, due to overwhelming evidence, they had to allow parents the choice of whether to vaccinate or not. (And I will vaccinate, just not in the first year and then it will depend on the vaccination being offered - whether the illness is deadly if contracted, what the odds are of my child contracting that virus, whether the vaccine contains mercury or other identified toxic material that has been scientifically proven to harm the human body, whether the vaccine has been reported to increase the likelihood of a child developing autoimmune disorders, and so on.)
You know how they say "the personal is political"? Well, this is one of those times. Vaccine manufacturers are in the pockets of the politicians and the decision-makers. Mandatory or mass promotion of mass vaccinations makes them A LOT OF MONEY. More than most of us can ever imagine. Poisoning our children is big business. They are poisoned using vaccines, food additives, pesticides and more.
And we just blindly believe in our government to protect us. We blindly believe in the medical establishment to cure us. We blindly believe that it is a good thing to inject massive amounts of toxins and viruses into newborn babies - because we've been told to do it by those we blindly believe in.
Well, I'm not blind anymore.
And if you can believe this one. I had an even more profound epiphany as I read the section in the book about the Hepatitis B vaccination.
You see, shortly before I became disabled by chronic illness, I had two rounds of the combined Hep A and B vaccination. It was in preparation for my upcoming honeymoon. We didn't end up going on a tropical vacation, but I really wanted to, so I got prepared hoping that that was what we would do. (It was also a recommended vaccine to get in my line of work doing support in a transition house for women with substance abuse issues.)
Shortly after the first shot, I started to get chronic diarrhea that lasted about 5 or 6 weeks leading up to my wedding. I asked my doctor if it could be a side effect of the vaccine and he assured me that it definitely could not. (At that time I was still "blind" so I accepted his response and didn't think of it again.)
He didn't find any problems with my stool sample, so he called it "irritable bowel syndrome" and sent me on my way. I continued to have stomach problems all through the following weeks and into my honeymoon.
Within two weeks of my wedding, I became so ill, I could not function. Doctors couldn't figure out what was causing my heart-racing, dizziness, and fainting.
Well guess what. Hepatitis B has been associated with causing an autoimmune response where the body starts attacking itself. Gluten intolerance can also become an autoimmune disorder. They say it is usually an illness or shock that will trigger autoimmune disorders. In my case, I have no doubt now that it was the vaccination that caused me to become disabled.
You see, it's been shown that people with compromised immune systems should not get the Hep B vaccination. I didn't know it at the time, but I had been suffering with an inability to tolerate gluten my whole life. My immune system was working at full tilt just to deal with the foods I ate every day. Getting that shot fucked everything up! My immune system could not handle it!
I am torn on how I feel about it now. It was an excruciating year and a half that leaves me traumatized. I would never wish it on anyone. But so much good has come of it.
If I had not gotten the Hep B shot, I may have gone on for another decade or more being bloated and tired and burnt out and thinking this is how every one feels. I wouldn't have found the gluten intolerance issue. I wouldn't be eating so healthy now. I wouldn't have known to look for a food cause for my son's behavior problems (which also led to a solution). I would have gone on blindly believing in the medical establishment - exposing my children to harmful chemicals.
So much good has come of me getting sick. As the full picture begins to emerge - and this new understanding of why my illness took such a sudden and drastic turn for the worse - I actually feel a little less traumatized.
I could look back at my ignorance of the harms and the secrets that are being hidden by the government and the medical establishment about vaccinations and be angry at them. I could be angry at how they stole a year and a half of my life. I could be outraged that many organizations like the one I work for now actually REQUIRE Hep A and B vaccinations to work there. I could cry with relief to now know how this all happened to me.
But I do none of these things.
Instead I feel grateful. It was a year and a half of pure hell. But the benefits to myself and my children now are immeasurable and they will impact us for the rest of our lives. I now think it may have been worth the sacrifice.
After seeing how much a small amount of artificial colour or flavour (gumball from machine) can do to my son, I am sickened to think of the amount of toxic chemicals I let the "medical establishment" inject into both my children when they were only months old.
I remember when my son was about five months old (and shortly after he had his 4 month vaccinations), he suddenly stopped going to sleep easily in his crib or bassinet. What followed was years of having to sleep with my son, lie down with him at night, get up with him through the night, etc. I wonder now if it was the vaccine that caused it.
The author of the book I'm reading accurately points out that we are injecting our children with massive amounts of toxins as well as a virus or five when their immune systems are only 2, 4, and 6 months old! What was I thinking? I did it with both my children!
Now I am pregnant with my third and my experiences with a medical establishment I've grown to distrust completely, prompted me to research vaccines. I don't give my kids anything anymore without researching it thoroughly.
The author also shows studies that demonstrate a clear correlation with a sudden and huge increase in learning disabilities, children with various disorders on the autism spectrum, and autoimmune diseases with the advent of more and more new vaccines.
Can you imagine if the government and the medical establishment admitted to the mass harm of children through mandatory vaccinations? It will never happen in my lifetime. Maybe when most of the people who pushed it through are dead and they can blame it on the ignorance of our ancestors.
In the meantime, due to overwhelming evidence, they had to allow parents the choice of whether to vaccinate or not. (And I will vaccinate, just not in the first year and then it will depend on the vaccination being offered - whether the illness is deadly if contracted, what the odds are of my child contracting that virus, whether the vaccine contains mercury or other identified toxic material that has been scientifically proven to harm the human body, whether the vaccine has been reported to increase the likelihood of a child developing autoimmune disorders, and so on.)
You know how they say "the personal is political"? Well, this is one of those times. Vaccine manufacturers are in the pockets of the politicians and the decision-makers. Mandatory or mass promotion of mass vaccinations makes them A LOT OF MONEY. More than most of us can ever imagine. Poisoning our children is big business. They are poisoned using vaccines, food additives, pesticides and more.
And we just blindly believe in our government to protect us. We blindly believe in the medical establishment to cure us. We blindly believe that it is a good thing to inject massive amounts of toxins and viruses into newborn babies - because we've been told to do it by those we blindly believe in.
Well, I'm not blind anymore.
And if you can believe this one. I had an even more profound epiphany as I read the section in the book about the Hepatitis B vaccination.
You see, shortly before I became disabled by chronic illness, I had two rounds of the combined Hep A and B vaccination. It was in preparation for my upcoming honeymoon. We didn't end up going on a tropical vacation, but I really wanted to, so I got prepared hoping that that was what we would do. (It was also a recommended vaccine to get in my line of work doing support in a transition house for women with substance abuse issues.)
Shortly after the first shot, I started to get chronic diarrhea that lasted about 5 or 6 weeks leading up to my wedding. I asked my doctor if it could be a side effect of the vaccine and he assured me that it definitely could not. (At that time I was still "blind" so I accepted his response and didn't think of it again.)
He didn't find any problems with my stool sample, so he called it "irritable bowel syndrome" and sent me on my way. I continued to have stomach problems all through the following weeks and into my honeymoon.
Within two weeks of my wedding, I became so ill, I could not function. Doctors couldn't figure out what was causing my heart-racing, dizziness, and fainting.
Well guess what. Hepatitis B has been associated with causing an autoimmune response where the body starts attacking itself. Gluten intolerance can also become an autoimmune disorder. They say it is usually an illness or shock that will trigger autoimmune disorders. In my case, I have no doubt now that it was the vaccination that caused me to become disabled.
You see, it's been shown that people with compromised immune systems should not get the Hep B vaccination. I didn't know it at the time, but I had been suffering with an inability to tolerate gluten my whole life. My immune system was working at full tilt just to deal with the foods I ate every day. Getting that shot fucked everything up! My immune system could not handle it!
I am torn on how I feel about it now. It was an excruciating year and a half that leaves me traumatized. I would never wish it on anyone. But so much good has come of it.
If I had not gotten the Hep B shot, I may have gone on for another decade or more being bloated and tired and burnt out and thinking this is how every one feels. I wouldn't have found the gluten intolerance issue. I wouldn't be eating so healthy now. I wouldn't have known to look for a food cause for my son's behavior problems (which also led to a solution). I would have gone on blindly believing in the medical establishment - exposing my children to harmful chemicals.
So much good has come of me getting sick. As the full picture begins to emerge - and this new understanding of why my illness took such a sudden and drastic turn for the worse - I actually feel a little less traumatized.
I could look back at my ignorance of the harms and the secrets that are being hidden by the government and the medical establishment about vaccinations and be angry at them. I could be angry at how they stole a year and a half of my life. I could be outraged that many organizations like the one I work for now actually REQUIRE Hep A and B vaccinations to work there. I could cry with relief to now know how this all happened to me.
But I do none of these things.
Instead I feel grateful. It was a year and a half of pure hell. But the benefits to myself and my children now are immeasurable and they will impact us for the rest of our lives. I now think it may have been worth the sacrifice.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
The Warm Zone, Drop In for Women, Abbotsford BC
As I ascended the stairs into "The Warm Zone," I immediately began to feel relaxed and at home. It is a drop-in centre for women and every room is open. The women who access the centre walk around like they own it. Making themselves coffee in the kitchen, stepping out onto the patio for a smoke. You probably aren't surprised when I say the place is spotless.
The best room in the place is the meeting room. A long table surrounded by chairs fills it. You can see every person in the room and fit about 15 comfortably. I held a focus group there for a project I'm working on and I met some of the most incredible women. They were like family. It made me want to move to smaller community.
I would say that "The Warm Zone" is the most comfortable, welcoming, friendly drop-in centre I have ever been to. The women who run the program are down-to-earth, committed to their work, and clearly they are spectacular support workers. I was reluctant to leave when the session was over. It's a place I hope to visit again. xo
The best room in the place is the meeting room. A long table surrounded by chairs fills it. You can see every person in the room and fit about 15 comfortably. I held a focus group there for a project I'm working on and I met some of the most incredible women. They were like family. It made me want to move to smaller community.
I would say that "The Warm Zone" is the most comfortable, welcoming, friendly drop-in centre I have ever been to. The women who run the program are down-to-earth, committed to their work, and clearly they are spectacular support workers. I was reluctant to leave when the session was over. It's a place I hope to visit again. xo
Friday, November 19, 2010
Why Pregnancy is Better When You're Single
I've experienced pregnancy with two different partners and I've spent the last seven months pregnant and single. So I have had three experiences of pregnancy. And I can tell you in all honesty, that being pregnant and single has been the best experience of the three by far. Let me tell you why...
I am fortunate because I have work until the baby is here, and I'm getting into subsidized housing so my rent will be manageable very soon.
Life couldn't be better!
- One less person to clean up after. During the first and third trimesters, we are often very tired. Having less laundry and less dishes is a godsend. You also don't feel any resentment because you're not cleaning up after another grown adult.
- If you are feeling too tired to do the housework - no problem! There is no one there to ask you what you've been doing all day or why the kitchen is a mess. So you can put it off until you have more energy and not feel bad about it.
- Less stress. We are inundated by professionals and loved ones telling us that stress is bad for a pregnancy. Well, if there's no one there to argue with, there is a lot less stress. I choose the temperature in my house. I choose the channel on my TV. I make all the little decisions and don't have to defend my decisions to anyone so I have less stress being single and pregnant than I did in my other pregnancies.
- You don't have to watch another person do all the things you cannot do because you're pregnant. For instance, no one is drinking beer in front of you on a regular basis or going out to parties you're too tired to attend. (There is the side benefit of not having to *smell* a person who is drinking beer and going to parties, as the pregnancy nose is very sensitive and offended easily.)
- Need to fart but worried it will smell like rotten eggs as pregnancy farts often do? No worries! Fart away! There is no one there that you need to save from the flatulence that is out of your control. Well, maybe your kids. But you changed their diapers, so they can just deal with it.
- Hello pillows! You have the whole bed to yourself! Sleeping during pregnancy is difficult at the best of times. But if you're single, you can pile up pillows for every body part making what sleep you do get as comfortable as possible. You also will not have your insomnia worsened by a snoring partner (with beer breath - even worse!). And you do not have to worry about weird noises you make due to the baby putting pressure on your diaphragm keeping your partner awake either.
- Sex during pregnancy can be uncomfortable and less enjoyable than un-pregnant sex. But self-obtained orgasms aren't uncomfortable at all! Since your sex drive is high, being single when pregnant is ideal because you can masturbate more often (due to your increased privacy) and you don't have to have sex with your massive, uncooperative pregnant body. So break out the vibrator! You deserve it!
- No dream guilt. You know all those hot dreams about a variety of men that you have when you're pregnant? Why do they often involve your partner's friends or your ex-lovers? Or your partner's friends' ex-lovers? Well, no need to feel guilty about it if you're single. You can dream about anyone your subconscious desires and use it later for fantasy masturbation material.
- No one to witness your emotional outbursts. Your pregnancy can be truly smooth and wonderful, but you will not escape the occasional irrational, emotional outburst. Fluctuating hormones are to blame, but it's still embarrassing when it happens. However, if you're single, the only ones who see your outbursts are your kids. Tell them it's just because you're pregnant and they write it off happily. Kids also have uncontrollable emotional outbursts due to their emotional immaturity. So they can relate and don't hold it against you.
- And last but not least - when you're single, you can send the kids to their dad's on the weekends! When you're in a relationship, there is no "night alone" or "time to yourself" during pregnancy. Even if you do manage to send the kids off to a family member or friend for the weekend, you still have to be with your partner. Having nights or weekends to myself has been a wonderful perk of separating from my children's dads. I am able to recoup, rest up, and be a better mother when they come home to me. This is a luxury I never had while living with the fathers of my children.
I am fortunate because I have work until the baby is here, and I'm getting into subsidized housing so my rent will be manageable very soon.
Life couldn't be better!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Parking Ticket Outside the Foodbank
I've been involved in advocacy and activism all my life but for the past ten years, it's been my passion and my focus outside of mothering. I've been a spokesperson on the rights of exotic dancers and other adult entertainers. I've worked in transition houses for women (as well as men and youth) fleeing violence, coping with addictions, struggling with homelessness, and suffering from mental health conditions. Many of whom fit the criteria of "all of the above."
I've also been involved in health and safety work, political lobbying, ethical research of marginalized populations and more. I have a keen eye for injustice. And when something happens that just isn't right, I see it. I feel it. And I want to do something about it.
But until recently, much of that "stuff" wasn't really happening to me. I'd had enough of the "above mentioned" experiences to relate and understand. But until I was so sick that I couldn't speak for myself or defend myself, I did not know what it was like to be so silenced. Until I was so poor that I was contemplating every possible source of money to feed my children, I did not know what it was like to be so desperate.
It is a whole other thing to speak for yourself than to speak for another. When we defend others, we know that what we are saying cannot be disputed. We know that we are unequivocally correct in our assessment of injustice. But I have found, that at least for me, when I speak for myself, I am uncertain, ashamed, and intimidated. It is very hard to speak for myself.
I've got to do it when I'm really mad and outraged. Because once that anger wears off, I become complacent. I am much more likely to accept abuse than to fight it when the abuse is occurring to me.
Having said all this, there *was* a day recently when I was mad and outraged enough to speak for myself. That was the day I got a parking ticket outside the food bank.
It was my own fault. The previous week had been my first week using the services of the Foodbank. As I'd pulled up, I saw that the parking lot was full and most of the parking on the street was also full. There was one side of the street that was conspicuously open. Looking closer, I saw that it was pay parking, so I turned around and parked down the street outside a strip mall for free.
This week, I pulled up to the foodbank with my head full of who-knows-what and the two kids fighting in the back seat. I looked up and saw the green circle around the "P" on the sign and thought we were good to go. I pulled in, got the kids out and went to stand in line. The lineup was very long and we had to walk to the back of the parking lot to stand at the end. We did not see the parking police give us a ticket while we waited for close to an hour to get our food.
After picking up the few groceries we could use on our restricted, gluten-free diet, we went back to the car and just as we pulled out, I noticed the ticket on my window.
I was instantly upset. I had maybe $15 worth of groceries from the food bank. I also had a $35 parking ticket. I couldn't hold it in. I may have cursed out loud in front of my kids, I don't remember. But I do remember that I screeched, ranted, then cried my eyes out in front of my kids. And they sat there noiselessly, not knowing what to say.
It was my own fault. The previous week and the parking sign came back into my mind. The fact that I was the only car parked on that side of the street should have given me a clue. But what was so much worse was that I was using the foodbank because I was so broke. The last thing I needed was a parking ticket. This ticket essentially negated the groceries I had come for. I could have gone to the store and bought the things I preferred rather than wasting an hour of my day for a handful of items I might not have picked if I'd had a choice.
Underneath all my self-reproof and frustration was anger. How could they be ticketing people outside the foodbank. And not just any old foodbank day, but this was the day for pregnant mothers and mothers of children under one year old. We are the poorest families in our community.
My home only being a short distance from the foodbank, I was still wiping away tears and taking deep breaths by the time I walked in the door. Before I even put away the groceries, I walked over to the computer and googled the City of Surrey. I found a very convenient link that allows Surrey citizens to send emails to the mayor and all the city councilors at once.
Admittedly, I was a little melodramatic in the last paragraph. But I’d worked myself up by that point in the letter writing. (lol) I spent the next few days in regret for sending the letter, thinking how it had been my mistake and I quickly sent off a cheque for the lesser amount if paid within 7 days.
Saturday morning, however, I received a phone call from one of the city councilors. Gosh I wish I remembered her name! She said she'd been reading my email over breakfast and she agreed with me. Then she said she would try to get my ticket absolved.
True to her word, I received a call that week from the Bylaw people. They didn't apologize. They didn't admit wrongdoing. But they sent me back my cheque. I thought that was very nice of them.
Hopefully they will refrain from ticketing outside the foodbank - especially on "pregnancy-brain" day when the expecting mothers congregate for food for their families.
It just goes to show that we need to speak for ourselves. We need to stand up for the rights of not only others, but ourselves! Most of the time no one else is going to do it for us. It's up to us. And if we're lucky, we may even benefit from it, like I did with my parking ticket. You just never know. xo
I've also been involved in health and safety work, political lobbying, ethical research of marginalized populations and more. I have a keen eye for injustice. And when something happens that just isn't right, I see it. I feel it. And I want to do something about it.
But until recently, much of that "stuff" wasn't really happening to me. I'd had enough of the "above mentioned" experiences to relate and understand. But until I was so sick that I couldn't speak for myself or defend myself, I did not know what it was like to be so silenced. Until I was so poor that I was contemplating every possible source of money to feed my children, I did not know what it was like to be so desperate.
It is a whole other thing to speak for yourself than to speak for another. When we defend others, we know that what we are saying cannot be disputed. We know that we are unequivocally correct in our assessment of injustice. But I have found, that at least for me, when I speak for myself, I am uncertain, ashamed, and intimidated. It is very hard to speak for myself.
I've got to do it when I'm really mad and outraged. Because once that anger wears off, I become complacent. I am much more likely to accept abuse than to fight it when the abuse is occurring to me.
Having said all this, there *was* a day recently when I was mad and outraged enough to speak for myself. That was the day I got a parking ticket outside the food bank.
It was my own fault. The previous week had been my first week using the services of the Foodbank. As I'd pulled up, I saw that the parking lot was full and most of the parking on the street was also full. There was one side of the street that was conspicuously open. Looking closer, I saw that it was pay parking, so I turned around and parked down the street outside a strip mall for free.
This week, I pulled up to the foodbank with my head full of who-knows-what and the two kids fighting in the back seat. I looked up and saw the green circle around the "P" on the sign and thought we were good to go. I pulled in, got the kids out and went to stand in line. The lineup was very long and we had to walk to the back of the parking lot to stand at the end. We did not see the parking police give us a ticket while we waited for close to an hour to get our food.
After picking up the few groceries we could use on our restricted, gluten-free diet, we went back to the car and just as we pulled out, I noticed the ticket on my window.
I was instantly upset. I had maybe $15 worth of groceries from the food bank. I also had a $35 parking ticket. I couldn't hold it in. I may have cursed out loud in front of my kids, I don't remember. But I do remember that I screeched, ranted, then cried my eyes out in front of my kids. And they sat there noiselessly, not knowing what to say.
It was my own fault. The previous week and the parking sign came back into my mind. The fact that I was the only car parked on that side of the street should have given me a clue. But what was so much worse was that I was using the foodbank because I was so broke. The last thing I needed was a parking ticket. This ticket essentially negated the groceries I had come for. I could have gone to the store and bought the things I preferred rather than wasting an hour of my day for a handful of items I might not have picked if I'd had a choice.
Underneath all my self-reproof and frustration was anger. How could they be ticketing people outside the foodbank. And not just any old foodbank day, but this was the day for pregnant mothers and mothers of children under one year old. We are the poorest families in our community.
My home only being a short distance from the foodbank, I was still wiping away tears and taking deep breaths by the time I walked in the door. Before I even put away the groceries, I walked over to the computer and googled the City of Surrey. I found a very convenient link that allows Surrey citizens to send emails to the mayor and all the city councilors at once.
This is the letter I sent:
To: Mayor and Council
Subject: Parking ticket outside of food bank
Message: Hi there,
I am recently new to using the food bank. A single mom, with two kids and pregnant, I have been unable since separating from my husband in November to secure a consistent paycheque.
I have to say that I am extremely disturbed and disappointed that I received a parking ticket outside of the food bank today. Because my children and I are gluten intolerant, we can barely use any of the food offered to us as it is.
I realize it was my mistake. When I read the sign, I only read the times for parking and did not realize it was pay parking. There are no parking meters and the sign has a green circle, which I interpreted as available parking.
My mistake has cost me $35 and basically negates having stood in a long line up for very few groceries.
I wonder how can a bylaw officer and the city of surrey live with themselves after ticketing people who are standing in a food bank line up. Our income is checked, we are clearly low income people.
I went on a particular day - Wednesday - which is for pregnant mothers and mothers with children under 1 year of age. So, essentially, your bylaw officers are preying on the lowest income mothers of our community.
I accept that I should have read the sign better and I will most definitely not make that mistake in the future. But I am truly disgusted that in a community that I am usually proud to live, bylaw officers are ticketing the poorest community members.
My children had to see me break down because of it. You don't know what it's like to lose $35 because of an honest mistake. You don't know what it's like to stand in a food bank line up. You don't know what it's like to not know how you will pay your rent this month, nevermind pay a ticket you got while standing in a foodbank line up.
Admittedly, I was a little melodramatic in the last paragraph. But I’d worked myself up by that point in the letter writing. (lol) I spent the next few days in regret for sending the letter, thinking how it had been my mistake and I quickly sent off a cheque for the lesser amount if paid within 7 days.
Saturday morning, however, I received a phone call from one of the city councilors. Gosh I wish I remembered her name! She said she'd been reading my email over breakfast and she agreed with me. Then she said she would try to get my ticket absolved.
True to her word, I received a call that week from the Bylaw people. They didn't apologize. They didn't admit wrongdoing. But they sent me back my cheque. I thought that was very nice of them.
Hopefully they will refrain from ticketing outside the foodbank - especially on "pregnancy-brain" day when the expecting mothers congregate for food for their families.
It just goes to show that we need to speak for ourselves. We need to stand up for the rights of not only others, but ourselves! Most of the time no one else is going to do it for us. It's up to us. And if we're lucky, we may even benefit from it, like I did with my parking ticket. You just never know. xo
Options Community Services Society, Surrey, BC
Despite my generally negative opinion of Sage Midwifery, I must thank one of the midwives there, Janine, from the bottom of my heart for connecting me with Options Community Services Society.
From the first phone call I received, I have had nothing but a wonderful and beneficial experience with them. The program that I am involved with is called "Healthiest Babies Possible" and it is offered to pregnant moms until their newborns are six months old.
Here are some of the reasons I highly recommend this organization (or at least this particular program within the organization):
From the first phone call I received, I have had nothing but a wonderful and beneficial experience with them. The program that I am involved with is called "Healthiest Babies Possible" and it is offered to pregnant moms until their newborns are six months old.
Here are some of the reasons I highly recommend this organization (or at least this particular program within the organization):
- They have a dietician on staff who makes house calls! This was a Goddess-send for me and my gluten intolerant family. I was particularly concerned about becoming pregnant only 6 months into my recovery from severe and debilitating gluten intolerance symptoms. The dietician came to my home and offered lots of advice - telling what I was doing right, what I could be doing better, and generally putting my concerns to rest. (Incidentally, the dietician who handled my file is also gluten intolerant, as is the woman who phoned me in the first place to ask what kinds of services I would be interested in. How convenient is that?!)
- They provide free lunches in different locations throughout each month. During the free lunches, there is also a themed educational component and discussion period before lunch is actually served. Present at the lunches are dieticians, counsellors, nutritionists, and other worthwhile support people for pregnant mothers. The lunch is also very child friendly. I have been to one lunch so far. My over-active son was not once scolded by any participants or facilitators - much to my relief and enjoyment. My gluten intolerance was taken into consideration and an individual plate made for each my son and I that did not include items with gluten in them. Because we stayed until the end, we also got to take home leftovers -which for that particular week really saved my family. We were out of money and low on food. It couldn't have come at a better time. They also gave out $10 grocery cards - another much appreciated gift for my family during this time of struggle. The lunches also offer free baby clothes on site which I plan to take advantage of in the future, now that I know the sex of my unborn child. :)
- I was assigned a "counsellor" who also makes house calls! This whole "house-call" thing is amazing for a busy single mom who has no gas in her car and is saving would-be bus fare for groceries. My counsellor (her name is Jill) is incredibly awesome. I didn't think I would need her for emotional support, but lo and behold, during a conversation about housing I became very emotional and poured my heart out to her. She was very understanding and helpful and she is doing all that she can to support my search for affordable housing. I love you, Jill!
- Each home visit I've had, I was presented with informative pamphlets on subjects of interest to me pertaining to pregnancy. I've received forms for housing that I didn't know existed. And I have also been given...yes, another $10 grocery card. Because I am working now, I am saving up my gift cards for after the baby is born and finances are much scarcer. I cannot express the degree of gratitude I feel for this small but significant gesture. I go to the food bank but they do not have very much to offer that is gluten-free, so having the extra grocery money to accommodate my family's restricted diet is literally life-saving.
- They call you to remind you of the lunches! I expressed that I would most likely attend the lunches that are closest to my house. Every two weeks, the day before that lunch is offered, I get a phone call from the organization reminding me. I think that is just such a wonderful and proactive service and I commend the organization for doing it.
- They give me free prenatal vitamins and with a doctor's note about the low iron, I can also receive free iron supplements. If you have to buy iron supplements and you're low income, you'll know why I think this is so incredibly awesome. Iron is EXPENSIVE!
Monday, September 20, 2010
Sage Midwifery, Surrey BC Canada
My first appointment with Sage Midwifery went very well. I met Gillian and she was fantastic. I think it would be breaking confidentiality for me to tell you why I like her - details she shared with me about people in her life who had experienced similar health issues as I had. I'm sure I can say that she had a general warmth about her. When I told her that I experienced low iron problems when my ferritin levels were low, she seemed to believe me and acknowledged it. However, she either did not write it down or the other midwives chose to ignore it. But I digress.
My next appointment was with Rosemary. She conducted my "internal examination." I have to admit it was a bit weird having a complete stranger perform the exam. I usually at least know the doctor or midwife from previous appointments. But I'm not shy and Rosemary was absolutely charming. I instantly adored her. She shared personal stories that made me feel like I - and my children - were in good hands. All of my children (not just the one I was currently carrying).
One thing that bothered me a bit during my appointment with Rosemary, was that my children - aged 5 and 10 - were left in a room with a movie to watch while I was in the nurses office. The TV that is used for kids videos is placed precariously on an un-sturdy table that could be knocked over very easily.
I don't consider this safe at all, as the children are left alone in the room. They are told to be careful and not touch the TV, thereby putting the responsibility on the children for their own safety (as well as the safety of the TV set). I was nervous to leave my son as he tends to be rambunctious and rebellious.
The last midwife I went to had toys and books in the waiting room, where the receptionist was on hand to assist them if needed. I much prefer that setup to the one at Sage Midwifery.
At 12 weeks, I phoned the office with concerns about the amount and strength of the fetal movement I was feeling. I spoke with Gillian and she said it could mean my dates are off or maybe I'm having twins.
My next experience was with Debbie. At 14 weeks, for about four days, I actually felt the baby move from the outside. I'd heard of this occurring with other women due to twins or placenta placement.
I phoned the office again expressing my concerns. Specifically, I wanted to know if I was having twins or if this should be something to be concerned about. Debbie phoned me back and was quite abrupt with me on the phone. She told me flat out that I couldn't possibly be feeling that much movement at 14 weeks.
I was appalled. I thought I'd chosen a midwifery practice for the main reason of avoiding medical professionals who treat you like you know nothing about your own body. And I said as much: "I have had two children before and I know what it feels like when they're moving inside me. Just because it's something you've never come across before does not mean that it doesn't happen."
Debbie apologized and offered for me to come into the clinic to be measured if I liked. I accepted the invitation, adding that I had been feeling especially tired and lightheaded and believed that my iron might be low.
At the clinic, Debbie was very nice and apologized for the disagreement on the phone. She measured me and assured me that my measurements, so far, did not indicate I was having twins. I thanked her, then mentioned again the tiredness and lightheadedness. (I've been struggling with low iron since going gluten free and I recognized the symptoms.)
Debbie assured me that my "hemoglobin levels were fine" and therefore I could not possibly be low iron. (She was referring to tests that had been done eight weeks previous.) I explained how I became symptomatic when my ferritin was low. I was already taking an iron supplement that I'd been on before getting pregnant, but hadn't increased the dosage.
Debbie assured me that all pregnant women feel tired and lightheaded at this stage of pregnancy. And she sent me on my way.
Over the next few weeks, I became more tired and more lightheaded. I was struggling through each day. People would say it was because of my age or because I was tired from caring for my out-of-control son on top of being old and pregnant. But I knew it was not normal. I had been pregnant twice before. And before THIS pregnancy began, I had been feeling healthier and more energized than I ever had in my life.
I waited until my next midwife appointment - this time with Janine - and brought up my concerns again. Janine was a little different. I didn't know what to make of her. She just sat there and nodded her head at me while I explained my symptoms. She hemmed and hawed. Then she said nothing. I did not feel heard or taken seriously at all. But I wasn't sure. She was just too hard to read. I also got the feeling my kids irritated her. Not the kind of feeling I expect in a midwifery office.
But Janine did something really amazing. She referred me to a program in Surrey called Options - Healthiest Babies Possible. (A really fantastic service that I will write a review about as well.)
Janine did not send me for tests. I wonder if there was a note in my file from Debbie that said: "Annie thinks she is low iron but she's not. Just humour her." At least, that's how it felt. I left the office feeling deflated and irritated. But my next appointment would be with Gillian. I thought she would likely take me seriously.
The problem was that the appointments are every five weeks, and I was getting worse. I knew something was wrong and finally decided to go see my doctor. He sent me for tests, and sure enough, my ferritin levels came back "9" which is low even on the lab results continuum. I am known to be symptomatic when my levels are at 21.
My doctor prescribed me to take double the iron supplements I was currently on and increase my B12 Folate supplement that he also had me on. I took his advice. Later that week, I went to the midwife office and told them about the lab tests so they could order them in. I explained my doctor's advice and left.
The secretary passed on my message to Debbie, I guess. Because about an hour or two later, when they'd received my test results from the lab, Debbie rang me up. This time she was very upset and used an angry voice with me on the phone. She told me that my doctor was giving me "inappropriate care." That my hemoglobin levels were fine and if my ferritin levels were low, then we should find out why I'm not storing iron.
I told her that I am not a medical professional and do not understand what she's trying to tell me. I was merely going on doctor's orders, and he being the only doctor I'd ever found who had helped me feel better.
Debbie went on to berate me for going to my doctor when I have hired a midwife for my prenatal care. And when she was done getting it all off her chest, she told me she had an appointment to attend to.
I was flabbergasted. She called to confront me when she had an appointment coming in? She couldn't even wait till she had a few moments to chat?
Needless to say, I realized in that phone call that Debbie was the last person on earth that I wanted with me in a delivery room, and I fired the midwifery practice immediately.
It has been three weeks since I increased my iron, B12, and folic acid, and I feel fantastic! I am not tired or lightheaded. Debbie had told me that 75% of their clients had the same complaints. Now I wonder if everyone going to Sage Midwifery is walking around with low iron.
My recommendation? Wait until Gillian has her own practice, then go to her. But forget about Sage Midwifery. Too many midwives, not child friendly, and they don't know what they're doing when it comes to health.
My next appointment was with Rosemary. She conducted my "internal examination." I have to admit it was a bit weird having a complete stranger perform the exam. I usually at least know the doctor or midwife from previous appointments. But I'm not shy and Rosemary was absolutely charming. I instantly adored her. She shared personal stories that made me feel like I - and my children - were in good hands. All of my children (not just the one I was currently carrying).
One thing that bothered me a bit during my appointment with Rosemary, was that my children - aged 5 and 10 - were left in a room with a movie to watch while I was in the nurses office. The TV that is used for kids videos is placed precariously on an un-sturdy table that could be knocked over very easily.
I don't consider this safe at all, as the children are left alone in the room. They are told to be careful and not touch the TV, thereby putting the responsibility on the children for their own safety (as well as the safety of the TV set). I was nervous to leave my son as he tends to be rambunctious and rebellious.
The last midwife I went to had toys and books in the waiting room, where the receptionist was on hand to assist them if needed. I much prefer that setup to the one at Sage Midwifery.
At 12 weeks, I phoned the office with concerns about the amount and strength of the fetal movement I was feeling. I spoke with Gillian and she said it could mean my dates are off or maybe I'm having twins.
My next experience was with Debbie. At 14 weeks, for about four days, I actually felt the baby move from the outside. I'd heard of this occurring with other women due to twins or placenta placement.
I phoned the office again expressing my concerns. Specifically, I wanted to know if I was having twins or if this should be something to be concerned about. Debbie phoned me back and was quite abrupt with me on the phone. She told me flat out that I couldn't possibly be feeling that much movement at 14 weeks.
I was appalled. I thought I'd chosen a midwifery practice for the main reason of avoiding medical professionals who treat you like you know nothing about your own body. And I said as much: "I have had two children before and I know what it feels like when they're moving inside me. Just because it's something you've never come across before does not mean that it doesn't happen."
Debbie apologized and offered for me to come into the clinic to be measured if I liked. I accepted the invitation, adding that I had been feeling especially tired and lightheaded and believed that my iron might be low.
At the clinic, Debbie was very nice and apologized for the disagreement on the phone. She measured me and assured me that my measurements, so far, did not indicate I was having twins. I thanked her, then mentioned again the tiredness and lightheadedness. (I've been struggling with low iron since going gluten free and I recognized the symptoms.)
Debbie assured me that my "hemoglobin levels were fine" and therefore I could not possibly be low iron. (She was referring to tests that had been done eight weeks previous.) I explained how I became symptomatic when my ferritin was low. I was already taking an iron supplement that I'd been on before getting pregnant, but hadn't increased the dosage.
Debbie assured me that all pregnant women feel tired and lightheaded at this stage of pregnancy. And she sent me on my way.
Over the next few weeks, I became more tired and more lightheaded. I was struggling through each day. People would say it was because of my age or because I was tired from caring for my out-of-control son on top of being old and pregnant. But I knew it was not normal. I had been pregnant twice before. And before THIS pregnancy began, I had been feeling healthier and more energized than I ever had in my life.
I waited until my next midwife appointment - this time with Janine - and brought up my concerns again. Janine was a little different. I didn't know what to make of her. She just sat there and nodded her head at me while I explained my symptoms. She hemmed and hawed. Then she said nothing. I did not feel heard or taken seriously at all. But I wasn't sure. She was just too hard to read. I also got the feeling my kids irritated her. Not the kind of feeling I expect in a midwifery office.
But Janine did something really amazing. She referred me to a program in Surrey called Options - Healthiest Babies Possible. (A really fantastic service that I will write a review about as well.)
Janine did not send me for tests. I wonder if there was a note in my file from Debbie that said: "Annie thinks she is low iron but she's not. Just humour her." At least, that's how it felt. I left the office feeling deflated and irritated. But my next appointment would be with Gillian. I thought she would likely take me seriously.
The problem was that the appointments are every five weeks, and I was getting worse. I knew something was wrong and finally decided to go see my doctor. He sent me for tests, and sure enough, my ferritin levels came back "9" which is low even on the lab results continuum. I am known to be symptomatic when my levels are at 21.
My doctor prescribed me to take double the iron supplements I was currently on and increase my B12 Folate supplement that he also had me on. I took his advice. Later that week, I went to the midwife office and told them about the lab tests so they could order them in. I explained my doctor's advice and left.
The secretary passed on my message to Debbie, I guess. Because about an hour or two later, when they'd received my test results from the lab, Debbie rang me up. This time she was very upset and used an angry voice with me on the phone. She told me that my doctor was giving me "inappropriate care." That my hemoglobin levels were fine and if my ferritin levels were low, then we should find out why I'm not storing iron.
I told her that I am not a medical professional and do not understand what she's trying to tell me. I was merely going on doctor's orders, and he being the only doctor I'd ever found who had helped me feel better.
Debbie went on to berate me for going to my doctor when I have hired a midwife for my prenatal care. And when she was done getting it all off her chest, she told me she had an appointment to attend to.
I was flabbergasted. She called to confront me when she had an appointment coming in? She couldn't even wait till she had a few moments to chat?
Needless to say, I realized in that phone call that Debbie was the last person on earth that I wanted with me in a delivery room, and I fired the midwifery practice immediately.
It has been three weeks since I increased my iron, B12, and folic acid, and I feel fantastic! I am not tired or lightheaded. Debbie had told me that 75% of their clients had the same complaints. Now I wonder if everyone going to Sage Midwifery is walking around with low iron.
My recommendation? Wait until Gillian has her own practice, then go to her. But forget about Sage Midwifery. Too many midwives, not child friendly, and they don't know what they're doing when it comes to health.
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