Miscarriage, the unspoken bond many share

It's an unspoken word, and yet a pregnant mother's greatest fear. Miscarriage. Losing a child in the womb, without hint or notice or explanation.

The tragedy occurs in 10 to 25 percent of all pregnancies, studies suggest, usually within the first 13 weeks. But because of its nature, the news rarely travels. And so, should the unspeakable happen, it may be lost on you how altogether not alone you are in your grief.

I had just moved to Tampa when it happened to me. Went in for my first doctor's appointment, full of joy and expectation, only to discover there was no heartbeat, no life growing inside me. The pain was immediate and fierce. I couldn't talk to anyone. I went home and cried harder than I ever have. My husband took care of telling our parents and the few friends we had shared the news with. I don't think I even took one call.

The doctor told us we could try again in a few months, but my suffering lasted longer than that. I couldn't bear to risk feeling that pain again. Eventually, we did get pregnant and I waited until I was almost five months along before I shared the news. Thankfully, I had that baby and another without any problems at all.

The miscarriage comes up for me at random times. Like this week, when I realized that child would be turning 11 soon. Or at the doctor's office, when a form requires me to say how many times I've been pregnant and how many live births I've had. Three and two, a disparity that always catches me.

I've made a deliberate effort to reach out to relatives, friends and others when I hear of miscarriages. And that's really the only time I bring it up. It's a sad lonely road but certainly one that a lot of women share. For me, being alone in my suffering was the hardest part, because I didn't realize how common an experience it is. Knowing that now, I want to share the unspoken truth with all women.

-- Amy Hollyfield

Momma, are you going to work today?

It comes like clockwork if I'm putting on makeup or nice clothes. The query from my 4-year-old daughter, eyes wide, sweetness in her voice, arms firmly wrapped around my leg: "Momma, are you going to work today?"

Undoubtedly, my answer is yes and no matter how I say it, the tears start flying. "Noooooooooooooooooooo!! You ALWAYS go to work. Please stay home with me just today! Please!!!"

I am not exaggerating when I say I field this question at least five times a week. Each time I apologize, explain how a job is a way to support our family, and point out that Saturday or Sunday is only so many days away. Lot of good that does. 

The issue seems exacerbated by a recent run of vacations for us, where I have been able to spend several days in a row with her. And even though I give her notice when that time off is up, she falls back into her daily goodbye trauma. All this despite the fact that my husband works from home and is with her every day.

Mind you, I share this not out of complaint, but rather out of sadness. Truth is, I would love to just once say, "You know what, sweetie? I will stay home with you today. Let's play!"

-- Amy Hollyfield    

[Jupiterimages]

Study: Depression in preschoolers is real

Contrary to the stereotype of carefree preschoolers, a study released today shows depression can be chronic even in children ages 3 to 6.

A research team followed 200 preschoolers for up to two years, diagnosing 75 with major depression. Participants were given mental health exams up to four times during the study. Depression was most common in children whose mothers suffered from depression or other mood disorders, and among those children who had endured a traumatic event.

The study, funded by the National Institute of Mental Health, was published today in the August issue of Archives of General Psychiatry.

The Associated Press story on the study talks to Dr. Helen Egger, a Duke University psychiatrist who has studied childhood depression. Egger says doctors commonly see depressed kids when they are teens, though parents often say the symptoms began early in life.

Egger points out that preschoolers can be moody (don't we know it, Mommas!), but have no trouble recovering and being happy at playtime. Depressed preschoolers are sad at playtime and their games have sorrowful or deadly themes. Other signs of depression: chronic lack of appetite, sleep trouble and fits of biting, kicking or hitting, along with guilt preoccupation (constant apologies for minor mishaps).

Of course such a study raises issues of treatment. Egger, for one, says psychotherapy should be the first course, given what little research there is on psychiatric medicine and young children.

-- Amy Hollyfield

Parents are best protection against drownings

At left, Chrishnay Hicks, 6, splashes with instructor Kristen Campbell during swimming lessons at North Shore pool in St. Petersburg while Madison Hamilton, 4, clings to instructor A.J. Augustine as he helps Grant Jordan, 4, float. [Times photo -- Edmund D. Fountain]

From Thursday's Times, comes a story all parents need to read. Children are drowning and more often than not, it's in the backyard pool. Here's the start of the story by Times reporters Stephanie Hayes and Andy Boyle:

The stories are chilling, and so often the same.
The child, tiny and teeming with curiosity, escapes his parents’ sight for just a flash.
He wanders outside.
He finds the pool.
This year in Tampa Bay — a place bordered by ocean and paved with pools — it keeps happening.
May 25: Brayden Lague, 18 months, left his parents for a couple of minutes at home in Tarpon Springs. His father found him floating in the pool.
May 26: Mariah Kras, 2, got out of her family’s mobile home in Spring Hill and climbed a deck to the above-ground pool while her mother slept.
June 11: Matthew Mannix III, 1, drowned in a Dunedin pool after he left his crib and opened a bathroom door leading outside.
June 16: Kevin Walker, 18 months, drowned in Odessa after wandering out of his mother’s view and falling into a partially emptied pool.
This month, two more boys nearly drowned, one at Fort De Soto Park and another at a St. Petersburg pool party.
The number creeps up every year.
Summer has just begun.

In addition, we compiled the best pool safety advice, from fencing and gates, to alarms, swimming lessons and your role as a parent in protecting your children.

Share your stories, tips and concerns with a comment on this post. Talking about it is a good start.

-- Amy Hollyfield

Disney/Pixar's 'Up': Take the kids -- and some tissue

I really thought I knew what to expect when my family went to a screening of Disney/Pixar's 10th film, Up. After seeing the trailers, I was sure that it was just about a grumpy old man and a kid who become friends in the end after going through some adventures. And it is that -- but it's so much more.

And because of that, Mommas, you better take your tissue. Because I'm talking sad here, like Nemo's mom kind of sad.

Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner) decides that he doesn't want to stick around and watch developers take control of his tiny home. He attaches hundreds of helium-filled balloons to his colorful little house and sets off for South America. Once in the air, an unexpected knock on the door leads him to  8-year-old Wilderness Explorer Russell (Jordan Nagai), who has come to Carl's home to earn his "Assisting the Elderly" badge. Once Carl reluctantly lets him in, the wild plot really takes off.

There are some portions of the movie that made me feel like sobbing. A scene at a doctor's office went over the kids' heads but left the adults silent for a moment. Each time you started to get down, the filmmakers would find a way to lighten up the story. Kids and adults laughed loudly in all the right places -- yes, there is some bathroom humor but just a little. And the adventure keeps you on the edge of your seat as the characters begin to realize that sometimes, the most memorable moments of your life are the everyday adventures you have with the people you love.

As my 10-year-old son said, there was more emotion in the film than just laughter.

This movie may not be for every kid. There are only two female characters -- and one of them is off screen after about 10 minutes. So the princess crowd may not enjoy this flick as much as the boys do.

The bottom line is that you should take your kids to see Up, whether in 3D or regular. While it will leave you feeling down in some places, you'll cheer for the heroes and laugh loudly at the funny scenes. In the end, it's worth a couple of tissues to see a good movie.

-- Sherry Robinson

[Photo: Disney/Pixar]

Hey baby, what's your story?

My first baby had to be delivered early because I developed preeclampsia at 37 weeks. I was induced with pitocin at 7 a.m. and got an epidural several hours later when I was dilated to five centimeters. Once my doctor broke my water I began pushing and pushing. Apparently I hadn’t paid enough attention to the breathing and pushing instructions in our child birth class. But my sweet husband had retained at least one .

Out teacher told the husbands they shouldn’t leave their wife’s side to run to the hospital cafeteria to eat. So they should pack few snacks since it could be a long labor.

About an hour into my pushing phase, my husband pulled out his six-pack cooler and started eating a turkey sandwich and chips. Our labor nurse was not familiar with the advice the birth coach had offered. She was appalled that he would sit there and chow down while all I could do was suck ice and scream in pain.

“Look honey. This ain't no tailgate party,” she quipped. He was so embarrassed he put the food away instantly and didn’t eat again until he was at home 20 hours later.

Meanwhile, I was being prepared for a Caesarean after three hours of pushing and barely more than the crown visible. My wonderful doctor decided to try the “plunger” for a third and final time. And suddenly tiny shoulders emerged. Three more glorious pushes and Olivia Snow Smith was born.

I finished off his turkey sandwich to celebrate.

Tell us about your birth story. Why would only a natural birth do?. Why did you use a doula? Did you have him at home? Do you swear by the magic of the epidural? If you adopted, tell us about that first time you brought your baby into your home or if you were present in the birthing room.

Your responses may show up in the next issue of Go Momma magazine.

-- Katherine Snow Smith, Go Momma magazine editor

Long-distance updates ease the heartache

It's been more than two months since I left my husband and girls in Tampa to take a temporary job in Tallahassee, and keeping in touch has been really challenging. I call the girls every morning and night, but it's usually not much more than a "love you! miss you!" conversation. I mean, they're 8 and 3, so telephones aren't the best.

But most days, my husband sends a photograph documenting either the mundane or the essential. Either way, it makes my day, and I feel a little less like I'm missing absolutely everything by being away. From my 3-year-old's first scooter ride, to my 8-year-old's star hula-hooping turn in the school talent show, to the miracle of both girls asleep on a long car ride, it's the little things that count. 

-- Amy Hollyfield

Baby's first year is a magical blur

 The other day I woke my daughter, looked into her big brown eyes and spoke words even I couldn’t believe I was uttering: Happy Birthday! We made it to the Big One.

My daughter’s first year is a magical blur. It began turtle-like with my four-day labor that kicked off on Super Bowl Sunday and then fast-forwarded to the moment my husband and I realized the doctors had actually sent our six-pound baby home with us, without instructions.

With help from a supportive family, I stayed home with the baby for nearly five months. For the first 30 days, my mother and mother-in-law helped ease the transition. Then, they went back to Georgia and turned us loose. I cried. What in the world was I supposed to do? What if I broke the baby? What if I couldn’t make enough milk? What if I passed out from exhaustion? What if the baby stopped breathing during the night?What if I punched the well-meaning lady in Dillards who sauntered over, took my baby’s fingers out of her mouth and suggested we try a pacifier to break finger-sucking? The nerve! The germs! Thank goodness Momma stayed calm. After all, if I went to jail, who would raise my girl?

My neighbors could have fired the night-watchman in our deed-restricted community. I barely slept. I kept one eye trained on my girl at all times. I was always up along with Suze Orman and a dizzying array of tv pitchmen.

I also ate like a linebacker to keep my milk production high. Somebody should have told me that Oreos at 3 a.m. will stick to Mummy’s tummy even if one is nursing.

By the time I went back to work, our little family had hit a stride. We had a schedule that seemed to soothe our colicky little one. We’d experienced some major milestones including our first plane ride, several car trips to Georgia and nights, full nights, filled with sleep. And, yes, despite having baby monitors, I got up several times at night to make sure the baby was still breathing.

Slowly but surely, we began to gain confidence as parents. Said confidence was quickly dashed, however, whenever the baby fell ill. Why did she have a fever of 104? What was the source of her infection? How do we help her clear her stuffy nose when she won’t abide the nasal aspirator and the humidifier doesn’t seem to be working? Wasn’t breastfeeding supposed to prevent this stuff? And why did we get every sickness that she got times three?

We monitored every pound our daughter gained and lost, read every first-year parenting book we could stand and listened to advice both solicited and unsolicited. In the end, we learned to trust ourselves. We also realized that the dishes could wait and a little dust never hurt anybody. Spending time with our daughter was most important.

Our girl is an adorable, fiercely determined, vocal and now, extremely mobile toddler. We know we’re blessed. We’re thankful that she survived – no, thrived – in her first year. So did we.

-- Sherri Day

[Photos.com]

Long-distance Momma

I'm not an emotional person. Hardly a mushy momma. Definitely no PDA gal. But since I took a temporary work assignment a few hundred miles away from home, everything inside is out.

I miss them. Totally and completely. My heart aches and I constantly worry about theirs. The 3 year old usually never fusses when I leave for work or errands. It's always, "Bye, Mom!!" But recently, when I said goodbye to drive back to Tallahassee, she sobbed and hugged me like never before. I drove the whole way thinking about her body glued to mine and wondering how I could ever make it up to her.

The 8 year old appears more brave about the whole experience, but I know it's hurting her just as much. We talk on the phone twice a day, and sometimes exchange e-mails. It's not the same. It never could be.

Taking this amazing professional opportunity was a heart-wrenching decision. How could I leave them? How could I leave my husband? With his total support, I took the risk. It's for two months, and for these first few weeks, I can drive home every weeked.

The truth is, I'm so busy working this new assignment, I wouldn't see them at all even if I were home. But I would be closer. Able to sneak a hug or a laugh or a smile once a day. Instead, I try to send hugs through the phone. Pray that I'm not scarring them for life.

Mommas, give me strength. I really need it.

-- Amy Hollyfield

[Photos.com]

My daughter's year to grow

This is the year my daughter learns to think about other people first. The year she learns that the world is bigger than her room. The year I guide her into young adulthood with a foundation of kindness, respect and generosity.

Every year since she was born in 2000, I have worked to instill in her the values my husband and I share, the default kindness and concern I hold for all people, the ability to think beyond herself and give selflessly. She is 8 now and the lessons feel unlearned. Not that she isn't kind, polite and well-mannered. She is, I dare say.

But she is not naturally thoughtful, or giving or concerned for those beyond her reach. And I fear that the longer she goes without absorbing these traits, the more chance I have of losing her.

On New Year's Eve, I told her 2009 is her year. That together she and I will strive for greater good. Together she and I will build her future. That each day, each week, each month we will chart our progress.

So far the steps are small: table manners, sharing with her younger sister, taking care of chores without being told. It's going to be a long process, one I'm totally committed to.

Next up: Finding a volunteer opportunity she and I can explore together. I volunteered a lot before I was married, but haven't since. I want to get back to that gift and bring her along for the ride.

With devotion and hard work, I just know we'll make it.

-- Amy Hollyfield