Brazenmom

The ‘what to eat during pregnancy’ debate was recently brought to the fore when a Sainsbury’s worker refused to serve a pregnant woman unpasteurised cheddar cheese. In a letter of complaint, Janet Lehain (31 years of age and mother of two) described the confrontation as “the most patronising encounter I have had the misfortune of experiencing in a long time”. She said that she only succeeded in persuading the member of staff at the Fairfield Park store to sell her the cheese by promising not to eat any of it herself. Since the incident, Sainsbury’s has admitted that “unpasteurised Cheddar does not pose a risk to health during pregnancy” – a recommendation made by the Food Standards Agency. Read the rest of this entry »

If somebody tells me about the “Mozart Effect” one more time I am going to start breaking faces. I realise that my metal music alliances may be enough to freak out the most liberal of thinkers but it would be most appreciated if people did their research.

The Mozart Effect is a theory that is based on a set of research results, which indicate that listening to Mozart’s music may induce a short-term improvement on the performance of certain kinds of mental tasks known as ‘spatial-temporal reasoning‘. Popularised versions of the theory credit the playing of classical music to babies with boosting IQ, improving health, strengthening family ties and even producing the occasional child prodigy. This idea was entrenched in the 1997 book by Don Campbell, The Mozart Effect: Tapping the Power of Music to Heal the Body, Strengthen the Mind, and Unlock the Creative Spirit. Although there have been numerous studies conducted in support of the Mozart Effect, the theory remains controversial and there are many academics and studies that debunk the extent and consistency of the proposed effects of classical music on babies. There are researchers who argue that the Mozart Effect represents only the short-term effects of classical music on mood and arousal. There are also studies concluding that although classical music may have a calming effect babies, it does not in fact improve IQ. This is why researchers continue to test whether the Mozart Effect is real and if any other styles and pieces of music have the same effect. Read the rest of this entry »

My favourite Barbie was the one with the blue party dress and the poofy eighties fringe. My second favourite was my Party Pink Barbie which came adorned in pink, jewels and glitz – the showstopper being a furry pink shawl sprinkled with sparkly silver stuff. I had some other pretend ‘Barbies’ that I managed to destroy: I used hand soap to wash one doll’s beautiful red hair and it remains, to this very day, stuck together in one giant dreadlock; and I had a mermaid Cindy (or something) which apparently was not supposed to be used in water despite the fact that she came with a beautiful mermaid tail – her crimped hair changed from ‘Darryl Hannah in Splash‘ to ‘Cameron Diaz in Being John Malkovich‘. Poor dollies. Taiwanese plastic is pretty sturdy but does allow for creativity that encompasses body modification, hair design and facial piercings. If my mom had taken a look at my Barbies perhaps she wouldn’t have been so surprised when I got my first tattoo, purple-black hair and piercing. I spent many a happy hour ‘playing Barbies’ with neighbours, friends, cousins and even brothers – although their version of the game was called ‘army bases’ and involved G.I. Joes, lego, micro-machines, farmyard animals and plants from the garden. Read the rest of this entry »

I was absolutely dreading my antenatal class on Saturday. The thought of birth videos, synchronised breathing and mom-bonding completely freaked me out. This whole having to push a baby out thing is just becoming far too real. My fear is comprised of many elements but a large part of it is the uncertainty and the lack of control (I won’t even mention the pain … oh the pain) that envelops the act of birth. Much to my relief, antenatal class went a long way to quelling some of the fear relating to the whole ‘WTF am I supposed to do’ part – without birthing videos and the accompanying crap that I had assumed would formulate the class. Read the rest of this entry »

You gotta love metalheads! Last night I, along with my 34 week pregnant belly, went to a Paradise Lost gig at Islington Academy in London – as fan and music journalist. So whilst the husband and his photo pass were hanging out with the important peeps up front, I made my way upstairs – wisely thinking that my baby girl, although a fan of Paradise Lost, would not appreciate being crunched against a hoard of sweaty metallers for two hours. Luckily there was a nice comfy couch with my name written all over it, so I sat my ass down to wait for the metal masters of doom and gloom to inflict their brilliance on the night. Read the rest of this entry »

To say that I am afraid is the understatement of a lifetime. Petrified, terrified and horrified are better adjectives but even they don’t come close to describing the fear that is slowly but surely permeating Pleasantville. In approximately ten week’s time (actually nine week’s and 3 day’s time – if all goes as planned), a baby with long arms and a big belly, judging by the measurements taken at today’s scan, will be squeezing its way down my birth canal. Oh woe! woe! woe! is me. My lamentation cannot be reckoned with. I have spent the last twenty-seven years avoiding doctors and it seems that at least two decade’s worth of irrational fear is going to culminate in one moment consisting of many hours (literal or figurative, or both) of pain and humiliation. Did I say “Woe is me” already? Read the rest of this entry »

Today my colleague at work asked me if I am going to eat my placenta, and if so, would I eat it raw or have it made into pills. As my jaw proceeded to drop and dribble extricated itself from my mouth, I managed to splutter an adamant “No!” So, here’s the deal: placentophagy is on the rise and is not only limited to weirdo actors and their scientologist friends.

Naturally, I was curious as to why a person would consider eating the bloody membranous afterbirth that is expelled from a woman’s body after her baby has been born. Recent research (based on experiments conducted on rats … nice) shows that the placenta and amniotic fluid of a woman contains a molecule (POEF, Placental Opioid-Enhancing Factor) that modifies the activity of endogenous opioids in a way that produces an enhancement of the natural reduction in pain that occurs shortly after and during delivery. Some doctors, therefore, prescribe placenta consumption as medicine to help stem bleeding after birth and to help the uterus clean itself out. The placenta is rich in nutrients (iron and protein) that will help the mother heal after childbirth, and is also known to be a great source of vitamins and minerals, which are thought to help fight postpartum depression – vitamin B6 is great for this. Other benefits of placentophagy include an increase in energy levels, increased production of breast milk and a decrease in the likelihood of iron deficiency and thus insomnia or sleep disorders. One has to wonder why boiled, canned or pilled placenta is not readily available in local pharmacies?

Although some placenta on the cob may be a great solution to a variety of ailments, there are some ethical complications. Placentophagy is practised in the animal world, driven by the instinct of an animal to hide its young from predators. Most human beings do not have this instinct, although with baby stealers lurking around every corner it might not be a bad idea to ingest one’s placenta and amniotic fluid as a protective mechanism. Read the rest of this entry »

My 22 week anomalies scan happened 7 weeks ago and I am still haunted. The word anomaly is enough to put the fear of potential ‘mutancies’ into any normal run of the mill mom. Just say it to yourself: anomaly … anomaly … anomaly – my baby is anomalous **shudder**. And then pluralise it: anomalies **double shudder**. Great!

On my second visit to the scanographer, memories of my first scan plague my mind. The first time the scanographer put the scanny-thing (I prefer ’scanny-thing’ to probe thank you very much) on my belly at fourteen weeks, I literally had one eye shut and the other half open – thinking that perhaps I had imagined being pregnant: perhaps my body had been playing tricks on me and nothing would be there. Well, the little jumping jelly-bean on screen dispelled those fears rather rapidly. And I left thanking my body for being most reliable. This time, for the anomalies scan, I also had one eye half closed as I anticipated a third leg, missing arm or perhaps a horn sprouting from my baby’s forehead. The third leg thing is way weird (I mean there’s no way I would be able to sew three-legged trousers) but the whole one-armed unicorn baby thing would be totally manageable – I am definitely qualified to file down a horn and cut off a sleeve. After all my worrying, what three and a half hours of scan revealed … yes, three and a half hours … is that we are having a little girl **yay** who is as stubborn as her mother, and that I have no need to sew or file or cut as of yet. Read the rest of this entry »

Half way. And how do I feel? Um … the same as I felt a month ago, and the month before that and the month before that. In fact, the same as I felt six months ago. In five-ish months a little life will be sucking on the nipples of my soon-to-be sack-like breasts. It’s a mind-fuck. I mean, I always thought that I would feel pregnant when I was pregnant – whatever that may mean. But I feel the same as I have always felt – not that I am complaining. I am still walking 40 minutes to work and back (each way please note) and I am still going to raucous metal gigs. Tonight I am going to stand at The Globe for three and a half hours to watch Troilus and Cressida, after which I will revel in a cup of delicious coffee and some truffles. Read the rest of this entry »

Recently I was accosted with a vision that went something like this: me, lying on a hospital bed with my legs sprawled marinating in my own placenta juices. Like a pickled onion in beetroot sauce. Disgusting. I am repeatedly told that “birth is beautiful”. In spite of the fact that I have the maternal instinct of a flea I am happy to acknowledge that babies are beautiful. But birth. What planet are people living on? Birth is pretty damn yuck. How can episiotomies, stitches, blood, umbilical chords, forceps, injections and pain be beautiful. Associating pain and grossness with beauty sounds pretty masochistic to me. Life is beautiful. Producing life is miraculous. Giving birth may be both miraculous and beautiful theoretically and romantically but certainly not practically and realistically. It’s painful, it’s gross and it’s humiliating. Nope, I have never given birth but I am not about to delude myself into thinking it pleasant and beautiful in any way. I like to call it keeping it real. It is this very philosophy that has dictated the abandonment of my usual ‘cut the bullshit keep it real’ attitude for a brief sojourn in Pleasantville that will end, rather unpleasantly I am sure, on December 17th 2009. Read the rest of this entry »