Doctor's Orders

Thanks for the tips. I’ll take it from here.

I am 53 years old. I have been pregnant 4 times and I have 4 children. Two of them I had over the age of 45, with a little help from doctors. I am not opposed to doctors or modern medicine. But nor do I think that they are never wrong. And I don’t want doctors dictating how I live my life.

The only time in my life that I did follow “doctor’s orders” without questioning was as a teenaged gymnast. My orthopedist removed a cast from my broken ankle after only 10 days, so that I could resume training. Then he removed a cast from a broken femur more than 2 months early for the same reason. Lastly, he insisted nothing was wrong with yet another broken ankle, and for a year plied me with cortisone every 6 weeks. And now, as a result, I have grade 4 arthritis, cannot jog or run and eventually will need an ankle replacement.

Forgive me if I can be a tad mistrustful of “just following doctor’s orders.” Instead I choose to do “my own research,” a phrase often mocked by the worshipful who take the The Science(TM) as divine gospel.

I’ve tried to adopt a common-sense approach to both pregnancy and child-rearing, even during the last two of my pregnancies, which were considered “geriatric.” My calculation has always been: how can I embrace healthful habits, good for me and my kids, without making myself and my kids anxious and obsessively paranoid and restricted all the time, thus taking the joy out of life? To do so, I’ve had to ignore much of the “guidance” from the CDC, the FDA, the American Academy of Pediatrics, La Leche League and a cadre of faux-hippie moms in the Bay Area who seem to devote every waking moment to fretting about how to manage their kids’ lives.

I do not embrace the “guidance” of these authorities nor this cohort of judgmental parents as the final word on any matter.

I drank coffee when I was pregnant. And a Diet Coke on occasion. And sometimes, not so infrequently, I drank wine (gasp!).

I also ate soft cheeses like feta and brie, lox on a bagel, sushi, cold cuts like deli turkey (without heating) and hot dogs (I have a soft spot for a frankfurter with sauerkraut and spicy mustard, usually at baseball games.)

Once my kids were born, I nursed but always supplemented with formula. In fact, I introduced a bottle within the first 24 hours, and still, they had no trouble “latching” to the breast.

With every child I went back to work within a couple of months, and I pumped. But not for long. It’s a pretty inconvenient interruption to the workday and quite stressful. I nursed part-time for 6-9 months with each child. Nowhere near the full year that used to be recommended (which has now been extended to two years.) This is an utterly unrealistic standard for any working mom, or indeed for any mom who doesn’t want to be tethered to her child for 24 hours a day for 2 years.

I regularly drank beer while breastfeeding and never tested my milk before handing it off to the babes.

I didn’t fret about when to introduce food or what foods to introduce when. I didn’t make my own baby food. I didn’t concern myself with introducing fruit before vegetables (the suggestion by some pediatricians being that the kids would never eat a vegetable if they got a taste of the sugary joy of bananas first.) They all ate peanut butter from a young age. They all eat everything now, including vegetables, and do not have peanut allergies. Indeed, they do not have any allergies of any kind.

They ate and still eat candy. More frequently than most kids I’m certain. Sometimes I even bribed them with treats to get them to do what I needed them to do in that moment.

They all still have all their teeth (except for the two still losing their baby teeth.)

We ate raw cookie dough and cake batter.

Each of my 4 kids slept in the bed with me until they were at least 9 months old. It was the best way for us all to get some much-needed sleep. I never rolled over on them. They all sleep through the night now, at 21, 19, 8 and 5, without any “sleep training.”

They rarely, if ever, wear sunscreen.

I turned their car seats around to face forward long before any of them reached the recommended minimum weight. They were happier when they could see me in the rearview mirror. This made car rides more pleasant for all of us.

My dog licked their faces.

I never uttered the phrase “use your words,” on bended knee, when cajoling one of my kids to stop with the tantrum. More often than I would like to admit, I yelled back at them. But at least they now know that they can, indeed, push a person to her limits.

With all 4 children, I started exercising within about a week after they were born. It kept me sane and healthy, though not recommended for 6 weeks, according to my OB/GYN.

I refused to be a human television set, entertaining them all the time. I often told them to go play by themselves, and more often than not, they did.

I sometimes got a flu shot and sometimes didn’t. The only time I got a bad case of the flu in the last 10 years is one of the years that I got it.

I don’t carry water around with me as if I might find myself stranded in the desert at any moment. I don’t drink 64 ounces of it a day. I’d float away.

I strive for healthful habits without making myself crazy. I accept that I will get sick sometimes, and so will my kids. It sucks but it is part of life. I trust myself to research and then make the best decisions for myself and my family. And those decisions always balance supposed physical health with overall well-being.

Thanks for the tips. I’ll take it from here.