Friday, February 19, 2010

And So It Cometh.

This dark and cold time of the year, so frigid, the land iced and yet my heart is warm and melting.

This is a sacred time, it is the time that 3 years ago I was feeling the wiggles of my beloved Birdie. My sweet little babe was still alive within my womb, healthy and waiting for her birth time.

No hearts were yet shattered into shards upon the frozen earth. No tears of sorrow had yet been shed. No. She was still with us, she was still with us...and o the terror, the nightmare that was too come, that would shake our world forever...that dark, dark terror that right now in this moment is so very present and writhing within me, even nearly 3 years later. I hold it close, I accept it, I let it come and shake me again and again.

Perhaps this year, the darkness that begins to fill my eyes and my heart is coming sooner than anticipated. Not until this morning at one of the weekly friday groups that me and Holdyn attend did I start to feel the longing, the sad longing that late February brings.

Today, as we sat and listened to other Mama's sharing thoughts of "Balance", I couldn't help but feel my still broken heart surface. I know that I am sensitive to things that I sometimes hear other parents say (and do), how can I not be? To hear parents complain about their living children is too much for me (even if they don't realize they are sounding this way)...it's that "if only they knew"..."if only they knew how fucking shitty life as a loss Mama/Papa/Parent can be". I see and hear things differently as a loss mama, there is no way around this for me.

Oh, how I wanted so badly to chime in, to speak from my heart, to remind these mama's that things really aren't as bad as they seem. I also felt like crying to hear some of the other comments I heard. For me to speak up would have be awkward and anger people. So, there I was, keeping my silence. I held my head low, starring at the ground and snuggled into sweet smelling, warm and tender Holdyn and whispered "I love you" in his ear.

And so, it cometh. Birdie's day and all the emotions and memories that the time between today and March 3 bring. It's getting heavy here. It's getting very, very heavy here.

Even though my heart is made lighter by the blessing of Holdyn's presence and his warm beating heart, my heart still retains a heaviness that never truly dissipates.

It's getting very, very heavy here.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

This is a re-post from the Motherwear blog. I cannot believe what I have just read.

Breastmilk donations for Haiti not being used.

Reflecting the chaotic environment for aid in earthquake devastated Haiti, the urgent call for breastmilk donations issued by a number of organizations last week appears to no longer be valid.

Late last week the several health agencies issued a statement calling for a halt to the breastmilk shipments being sent to Haiti, and a Navy spokesman indicated that milk sent for use aboard the USS Comfort hasn't been used.

Time Magazine reports:

Through a complicated chain of communication involving various members of Congress, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and breast-feeding organizations galore, the Human Milk Banking Association of North America (HMBANA) dispatched two coolers' worth of donated breast milk to Haitian preemies being cared for on the U.S.S. Comfort, the floating hospital anchored near Port-au-Prince. "The fact that there is a doctor on board this ship who understands the importance of breast milk is just amazing," says Amanda Nickerson, executive director of the International Breast Milk Project, which arranged the shipment of 140 3-oz. bottles of milk. Quick International Courier, a New York City–based firm that specializes in out-of-the-ordinary cargo, handled as a pro bono matter the delivery, which involved dry ice and rapid-fire transfers between Southwest Airlines, a charter flight and finally a military helicopter.

The HMBANA cargo supplements what is likely the world's only nautical milk bank. When one of the pediatricians on board the Comfort, Dr. Erika Beard Irvine, realized that she had only three cases of formula upon arrival, she connected with breast-feeding Navy moms who had deployed and didn't know what to do with their breast milk. Beard Irvine is storing their pumped milk in the ship's freezers and feeding it to the babies under her care, including one preemie born on board.

...In the U.S., milk banks rigorously screen donors, then pasteurize, process and freeze their milk before distribution. When it's shipped to sick babies across the country, it's nestled in dry ice. Unrefrigerated, breast milk — like cow's milk — turns rancid.

That's why the World Health Organization, UNICEF and the United Nations World Food Programme issued a joint statement Jan. 21 that the necessary infrastructure isn't yet in place to utilize donated breast milk on the Haitian mainland.

MSNBC reports:

But the staff on the U.S. Navy ship [Comfort] said they haven't used the milk out of concerns raised by OFDA and other agencies. Mothers aboard the Comfort are urged to nurse their own babies and there’s infant formula available to children whose mothers cannot or will not breast-feed, said Lt. David Shark, a U.S. Navy spokesman.

I understand why it doesn't make sense to send donor milk to the mainland at this point, but I'm a little confused about why donations sent to the Comfort can't be used. The babies aboard the Comfort must be at at least a high a risk of potentially fatal complications like necrotizing enterocolitis as babies in the U.S. (see this video on how breastmilk prevents it, and this post on the cost of treating a case). Then again, maybe I shouldn't be too surprised. There are plenty of U.S. hospitals that don't use donor milk in the NICUs, and an emergency is probably a difficult time to convince people of its safety and value.

I also hope that this doesn't put a damper on the resurgence of interest in donor milk banking. Our milk banks have been experiencing a decline in donations due to H1N1, and they are still needed in many areas to help domestic hospitals care for their premature and critically ill patients.