Another stick to beat mothers with

I’ve written before about the benefits of being rested in the run up to the birth of your baby and personally, I’m a big advocate of taking time off work before having a baby to get your head in the space and to rest, unwind and reserve your energy for the big day. In reality for a lot of mothers this is a luxury that they can’t afford, whether they’re trying to maximise the time they have at home with their baby once they arrive or simply due to financial constraints where it’s just not viable to be not working.

Another stick to beat mothers with Mind The Baby Blog
photo credit: blinzelblinzel via photo pin cc

That’s why headlines like this and this really get my goat. Somebody’s PR machine issued a press release over the weekend about an article in the new issue of The Journal of Labour Economics by researchers from the University of Essex who claim that women who work past eight months into their pregnancy have lower birth weight babies. We’ve a small problem here in that the press release has received blanket global coverage which draws heavily on the line “working after eight months of pregnancy is as harmful for babies as smoking” but unfortunately there’s no sign of the full press release anywhere or indeed the original research itself which would appear to be only available to subscribers of The Journal of Labour Economics.

So we don’t actually know if the research draws a direct comparison to women who smoke during pregnancy or even if the smoking line comes straight from the press release. Any quotes are from one of the researchers, Professor Marco Francesconi, and he doesn’t seem to have made the smoking reference himself.

One more stick to beat mothers with.

Seriously. If you are going to claim that working at the end of your pregnancy is the same as SMOKING CIGARETTES all through your pregnancy, then let’s see the evidence please! And if the evidence exists, then Governments across the world need to legislate now to make it the law that women will receive additional maternity leave to cover the end of their pregnancy because if it’s true, then you might as well be putting fags into the hands of pregnant women everywhere.

A significant majority of women have to work right up to the end of their pregnancies. This is because society and economics have made it so. Don’t make them feel bad when they’re already wrecked and dying to finish up so they can meet their baby. Fix it.

Perineal Massage: better the devil you know?

Ah that lovely word massage. It conjures up images of candles and plinky music and warm, fluffy towels as puffs of hot, fragrant air waft through the room.

Then you lob the word “perineal” in front of it and it turns into an antonym.

Perineal massage, while a massage in its strictest definition what with its rubbing and kneading and all, kind of taints the idea of a massage.  For example, “comfortable” is not an adjective you could use to describe a perineal massage. Neither is “soothing”, “relaxing” or “rejuvenating”.

Perineal massage: better the devil you know? MindTheBaby blog
Yeah, it’s not like this
photo credit: Schwangerschaft via photo pin cc

Let’s try “awkward”, “uncomfortable” and “stinging” instead.  I have never been happier that there is no full length mirror in my bathroom than from week 36 of my pregnancy when I could only just imagine what a vision of hefty loveliness I was with one foot perched on the toilet bowl, as I warmed almond oil between my hands and then creaked and groaned as I tried to reach over my bump, under my bump, around the back, to the side, to try and properly position myself to gain access to that sacred and sensitive perineal area.

Then there was the self discipline of going the course – was that long enough? was it strong enough? how much discomfort is enough discomfort?  Was that TOO much discomfort??!!!  To add insult to injury, the only way to know if it’s actually working is to have a baby.

It’s not pretty and it’s not sexy.  But, hey, here’s the important part: it really works.

You’d be some fool now to take my word for it, so don’t.  Take the Cochrane Reviews’.

In a nutshell, the summary says this:

“The review of four trials (2497 women) showed that perineal massage, undertaken by the woman or her partner (for as little as once or twice a week from 35 weeks), reduced the likelihood of perineal trauma (mainly episiotomies) and ongoing perineal pain. The impact was clear for women who had not given birth vaginally before, but was less clear for women who had. There were no randomised trials on the use of massage devices. Women should be informed about the benefits of antenatal perineal massage.”

There’s a couple of interesting things in there for me.  Firstly, it’s evidence based research that demonstrates that it does actually work.  Secondly, it throws out that chestnut that I’ve heard all the medical professionals say – “or your partner”.  Before I began the massage myself, I lost count of the number of conversations that went like this:

Me: “Hey, we should give that perineal massage thing a whirl one of these days”

Husband: “Yeah, great idea”

If I didn’t bring it up, it didn’t get volunteered.  I read between the lines.  A solo run it was!

Because perineal massage isn’t the most appropriate of dinner conversations, it seems to be one of those embarrassing pregnancy things that only gets whispered about outside of antenatal classes (like poo).  Hence why I was a little confused when a pharmacist handed me a small vial when I asked her for almond oil.  I was trying to figure out how many massages that would get me before I had to buy a new one and I was thinking not too many.  It was two weeks later before my yoga teacher put me straight that I needed a big whopper of a bottle of the good organic stuff from the health shop.

I also read that the best way to figure it out was to type “perineal massage” into Youtube and you’d get heaps of tutorials.  In case you’ve a very real fear of stumbling across a lot of porn by accident when you’re at work, I’ve done the hard work for you.  This video is it basically:

Nothing like a rubberised vagina to get you in the mood 😉

I started massaging from about 36 weeks, maybe 2-3 times a week and I really had to bully myself into it.  It’s fine really, it’s just a bit awkward and a little uncomfortable.  Apparently there’s also a contraption called an epi-no which does the job for you.  I haven’t had any experience of it myself – perhaps one of you have? When I reached my due date, I upped the ante a bit and did it everyday.  I think this was just a bit of first time jitters though.  When I had Baby S, I had a small graze which made me jump the first time I peed but then caused me no grief after that.  Was it the perineal massage?  I have no idea but tell you what, I’ll do it again the next time.  The summary from the Cochrane Review above says there wasn’t sufficient evidence to proof that it’s just as effective after your first baby but I, for one, will not be risking it!

The hot potato of maternity leave politics

Although always bubbling away in the background, the topic of working mothers and maternity leave has come to the fore again recently, mostly stimulated by the appointment of pregnant 37 year old Marissa Mayer to the position of CEO in Yahoo (Go Marissa! What an achievement) and her subsequent comments on combining work and maternity leave. Or her non-existent maternity leave, if we’re to call a spade a spade. Mayer has said she’ll take two weeks off after the birth of her baby boy but will continue to work from home during that time.

Of course consternation ensued and admittedly I reacted badly myself until I read Annie from PhD in Parenting’s post where she poses the question “does it matter if Marissa Mayer takes maternity leave?”. The answer, when I got down off my high horse, is obviously “only to Marissa, her partner and her child”. But Annie raises bigger questions about Marissa’s greater responsibilityin her new role to affect change in American corporate culture so that women who are getting on with working, and are not high flying CEOs with unlimited support options, have access and workplace acceptance of quality maternity and family leave arrangements.

This is all playing out in the States where there is a chasm between maternity leave rights compared to European standards. Women are expected to return to work six weeks after giving birth, something totally unheard of – and indeed frowned upon – in Ireland. Given their extraordinarily high rate of Caesarean sections, I would be interested to know from any US readers what happens in that situation, especially when the estimated recovery time is up to six weeks. Do they still just go back to work? Are they not utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally? Are they even insured to drive their cars?  In Ireland it’s in and around six weeks before your car insurance covers you for accidents depending on your insurer.

US commentary on Melissa’s maternity leave announcement is grounded on this acceptance that  six weeks is a perfectly adequate length of time for a working women to spend at home with their newborn and that they are fit for the workplace and rearing to go. Look it, it’s not. No matter what way you spin it.

Source: The Atlantic

When the marriage ban was lifted in Ireland in the 1970s and maternity leave was introduced for working mothers – fought tooth and nail by employers at the time, it must be said – it was for a period of twelve weeks. Looking back now, it sounds barbaric to pressure new mothers to hand over their tiny infant to child care and return to work. I know my own mother found it particularly difficult when she had to return to work eight weeks after the birth of her second child because he was nearly four weeks overdue and his late arrival ate into her precious time off with him. No wonder the breastfeeding rates from that era are minuscule.

Now women working in Ireland are entitled to 26 weeks maternity leave and may receive State financial benefits and perhaps salary payments from their employer depending on their circumstances. They’re also entitled to an additional 16 weeks of unpaid leave which they can avail of directly after their 26 week entitlement. During their time off women still accumulate all of their annual leave and bank holiday leave that they would have been entitled to if they had been working. All in all, depending on your financial situation, you could find yourself in a position to stay at home with your baby for a year. I was lucky enough to be in this position. Although the Irish system is already comparatively generous, I think all women should be entitled to take a year off to be with their babies.

I’m throwing that hot potato out there!

Now, before you throw it back at me, I’ve chosen my wording carefully. I think all women should be entitled to take a year off. I’m not saying they should whether they want to or not, I’m saying they should have the choice, without discrimination or loss of employment rights or indeed stigma.

I should probably say something politically correct here like “or, a year’s leave should be divided between both parents to share as they see fit”. This would be great, but it would also be extra great if mothers got a year off and then Dads got their leave too. This policy would be particularly effective, I think, in encouraging the take up and continuance of breastfeeding.  Returning to work after six months puts pressure on breastfeeding mothers to wean their babies to formula and solids so that their children are “child care ready” before they go back to work. I have to say I would have found it very hard to go back to work when my baby was six months and let my husband stay at home. Not that I would have a problem with him being at home but I would want to be there myself with my baby. I wouldn’t change a thing about my maternity leave.

For some women, the idea of being off for a year fills them with horror. For others, they thought that they’d definitely, definitely use all of their leave entitlements but then they got to a stage where they realised that actually they’d prefer to go back to work earlier than they planned. A choice to stay at home, a choice to go back when you’re ready. That’s how it should be.

Ultimately, every woman should be in a position to do what’s right for her but I think this should be done holistically, taking in your own personal well being, the needs of your child and honouring the birth process as something profound and life changing.  It’s not a box to be checked.

I know one woman, who owns her own business (and in my opinion, culturally this is the only time that this is acceptable here) and returned to work two days after her first child was born. She ran a public relations company and arrived at a client’s photocall with her newborn. I know another woman – who heads up a human resources department incidentally – who never really took her maternity leave but instead worked one day a week for a few weeks after the birth of her three babies and then came back part time for the rest of her maternity leave. This upset her female colleagues greatly especially given her position and her employers insisted that absolutely no one put her under pressure to do this. But they didn’t stop her either.

These women made these personal choices for them.  Laying my cards on the table, I personally don’t think this is right. Having a baby isn’t like other big ticket items in your life that have a long build up period, followed by a milestone event and then perhaps an anti-climax back to normality such as doing your Leaving Cert, getting married or buying a house. Having a baby changes everything forever. It’s a huge physiological event which ends with the addition of another human (or humans). You can’t just get back to normal as quickly as possible. You have to learn to adapt and accommodate this new life that it utterly helpless and dependent on you. You also have to physically recover. Regardless of what the celebrity-obsessed media tell us, that doesn’t happen in a few short weeks. I also think that you reap what you sow.

Short maternity leave of a few weeks create difficulties for successful breastfeeding. Short maternity leave puts societal pressure on women to believe they must get back to their old lives as if nothing has happened and makes them feel guilty and like failures if they don’t.

46.5% of the Irish workforce is female. That’s a lot of child-bearing women. Why is it so hard for us to accept that women can have a career and a family life? I’m not talking about having that exhausted ideal of “having it all” but taking the long view that it’s likely that women of our generation and beyond are probably going to work into our mid seventies. You’re looking at a working life spanning approximately 55 years. That’s nearly three generations. What’s wrong with taking a few short years to have and raise your family? It’s a drop in the ocean comparatively. Why do we think that having children will derail women’s career prospects? Because at the moment it does and we need to take action to change that.

I’m not saying that all mothers should be working. I believe we should have choices. Choices that are best for us, best for our families and best for society as a whole. Taking the long view again, if we all concentrate on our careers and refrain from having the babies, who do we think it going to pay for our pensions and her nursing homes in decades time?

Women have to have babies. Women work. Let’s marry those two facts for the betterment of everyone.

As a parting note, my mother worked all of our lives. For her the right choice was to pursue her career rather than make sacrifices that would stall it in favour of staying at home with her family. I honestly believe it affected our relationship probably more than she is aware. However, I know my mother very well and I can guarantee you that if she had chosen to stay at home with her children, then this would also have affected our relationship and not in a positive way! She made the right choice for her and her family. We both share a value on this topic – it’s about making your decisions, whatever they might be, and being happy (or even just prepared) to live with the consequences.  There’s no connotation attached to “consequences” here, they’re both positive and negative. I said it earlier but I think it’s relevant here again: you reap what you sow.

This topic is MASSIVE and volumes have been written and fought over it. I’ve barely scraped the surface here.  What are your thoughts?

PS On related topics, I thought you might be interested in this great articles I came across this week. The first, from the Irish news site, talks about how a baby’s relationship with its mother in the first twelve months of its life affects all its future relationships. The second is an incredible article by Ann Marie Slaughter called Why Women Still Can’t Have It All. If you’re interested in the struggle to balance motherhood and pursuing your career goals, Slaughter’s article is a must-read. She covers literally every aspect of the debate. It’s one of the best opinion pieces I’ve ever read. Pop the kettle on though, it’s a long one. Let me know what you think!

The Journal: Here’s Why Your Mother Sets Your Love Life – And How To Change It

The Atlantic: Why Women Still Can’t Have It All

Five minutes

Sometimes it feels like I’m on a runaway train. Time to get up…no, now mama…dressed, breakfast, out to crèche, then to work. Home from work, cuddles, dinner, playing, wiping, bath time, story, bed. Grown up dinner, maybe some adult conversation, maybe some slumping on the couch, chores, laundry, groceries, bed, phew. Then we start all over again. Even the weekends canter in without stopping. There’s always something to do, somewhere to be, little hands reaching up, grabbing on, wrapped around legs, baby hugs with runny noses all over your top. Pulling him out of presses, out of the tumble dryer, not in the shower! Hands out of the toilet!…

…yesterday I found myself sitting on my bed, by myself, lacing up my converse. I realised it was the first time in ages where I was doing nothing else but putting my shoes on. I smiled, slowly did up the laces and enjoyed it.

Just five minutes and a moment to breathe. Sometimes that’s all I need.