I learned today that Oregon is #1 in the country for mental health problems. Or, I guess, 50th in the nation, Mississippi-on-most-metrics style. We also have a Democratic Governor, Democratic majorities in both state houses, and a fairly decent state Medicaid program. Seems like we could and should emulate this program. And I can totally see myself being a home visit volunteer in a couple of decades. I promise I would never say, "enjoy every minute, it goes by so fast!" to a mom holding her infant who hasn't stopped screaming once in the past 3 hours. I'd just tell her she's doing great, it is reall,y really hard, and if you need to, it's OK to make sure your baby's immediate needs have been met then carefully place her in her crib, walk out of the room and collect yourself for a few minutes.
Tucker Carlson can kiss my incredibly hot, socialist ass. This program, if successful, will benefit all of society with healthier children and mothers, which would result in reduced costs in the future. His precious private sector wouldn't undertake such a program without a profit motive beyond improved benefits to all down the road.
A generation or three ago, when people didn't relocate so much for schooling or jobs, they tended to grow up in an extended family, with neighbors they knew and trusted. So it was never a big deal to have an aunt or someone with experience in child-rearing to come over and help out.
But nowadays? Pfft... Call in the professionals....
I had horrible suicidal postpartum psychosis with actual active hallucinations of a man with an ax in my apartment due to sleep deprivation. I went to THREE psychiatrists to try to get help (I did not get help and all I remember is some guy therapist saying to me after I had taken two subways and a bus in New York City summer heat that the poor overheated kid in my baby carrier seemed like a "difficult child". ) My husband was no help at all (he worked six blocks away and I begged and begged and BEGGED him to come home for lunch AND HE NEVER DID) and passive aggressively leveraged the midwife's enthusiasm for breast feeding into my having to nurse the baby every hour and a half while he went to work or sleep. (He is so lucky to still be alive.) I finally decided I was going to run away in the middle of the night but by the time I got my stuff packed and the baby's stuff packed there was too much stuff blocking the door and I couldn't get out of the apartment so I just sat down and cried and cried. Which is how my husband found me in the morning. He flew into a rage and called my sister in Massachusetts and told her he couldn't take it any more and she needed to come get me. Then he made himself breakfast and went to work. My sister, bless her heart, drove down to NYC to collect me, took me to her house in the woods in Belchertown and promptly came down with a raging flu. Two weeks tending her feverish body releasing foul liquids at both ends was still better for me than being isolated and ignored by my daughter's sperm donor. I went to the store bought a TV and some formula, poked a bunch of holes in the nipple of a bottle and that blessed child, full for probably the first time in her life, slept for six straight hours. It took another two and a half years, including weekly sessions with a very smart individual therapist to really recover - at which point my child's father told me in "marriage counseling" that he wanted a divorce. At which point my recovery finally revved up to warp speed. Even if, during those hellish early weeks, my husband wouldn't come home for damn lunch, someone stopping by every once in a while to see if I was still alive would have made a huge difference.
I am shocked and horrified that your friend's family had to go through that evil bullshit. Shame on that hospital and those health workers for trying to kill that mother and baby with malpractice and neglect.
I'm not entirely sure, but I think my father was my stepmother's fourth husband. She had four kids, and all four have been married at least twice, with the second and/or third spouse usually having been divorced at least once. Good Suthn Babtsts upholding the sanctity of marriage. Meanwhile in my cohort from my college days, there was a trio of starter marriages that fizzled within a couple of years, one whose husband walked out after the birth of their baby, and one couple I figured was always mismatched finally knocked it on the head after 20 years or so. Oh, and there was also one of the classic after bringing up two kids, one who was a problem kid, the husband leaves her for a twenty-something.
My family was Very Roman Catholic there were many, many divorces in my grandparents generation, but we couldn’t afford the annulments so we are mostly Episcopalian or some other acceptable (no speaking in tongues for us)Protestant denomination now. I do still have a Very Roman Catholic great aunt though.
After my father's secretary's husband died, she ended up marrying a widower who had high-school/college-aged kids, the same as she did. One of hers and one of his ended up getting married.
I do hope the nurses who come also double-check mom for postpartum pre-eclampsia symptoms. Because that's one of the highest causes of maternal death. D:
I learned today that Oregon is #1 in the country for mental health problems. Or, I guess, 50th in the nation, Mississippi-on-most-metrics style. We also have a Democratic Governor, Democratic majorities in both state houses, and a fairly decent state Medicaid program. Seems like we could and should emulate this program. And I can totally see myself being a home visit volunteer in a couple of decades. I promise I would never say, "enjoy every minute, it goes by so fast!" to a mom holding her infant who hasn't stopped screaming once in the past 3 hours. I'd just tell her she's doing great, it is reall,y really hard, and if you need to, it's OK to make sure your baby's immediate needs have been met then carefully place her in her crib, walk out of the room and collect yourself for a few minutes.
oh, those poor orphan fjords!
Tucker Carlson can kiss my incredibly hot, socialist ass. This program, if successful, will benefit all of society with healthier children and mothers, which would result in reduced costs in the future. His precious private sector wouldn't undertake such a program without a profit motive beyond improved benefits to all down the road.
Wait. Are you saying you don't drink in the sauna?
I'm my own grandpa.
I’m just a whimpy Swede.
Just musing here...
A generation or three ago, when people didn't relocate so much for schooling or jobs, they tended to grow up in an extended family, with neighbors they knew and trusted. So it was never a big deal to have an aunt or someone with experience in child-rearing to come over and help out.
But nowadays? Pfft... Call in the professionals....
I had horrible suicidal postpartum psychosis with actual active hallucinations of a man with an ax in my apartment due to sleep deprivation. I went to THREE psychiatrists to try to get help (I did not get help and all I remember is some guy therapist saying to me after I had taken two subways and a bus in New York City summer heat that the poor overheated kid in my baby carrier seemed like a "difficult child". ) My husband was no help at all (he worked six blocks away and I begged and begged and BEGGED him to come home for lunch AND HE NEVER DID) and passive aggressively leveraged the midwife's enthusiasm for breast feeding into my having to nurse the baby every hour and a half while he went to work or sleep. (He is so lucky to still be alive.) I finally decided I was going to run away in the middle of the night but by the time I got my stuff packed and the baby's stuff packed there was too much stuff blocking the door and I couldn't get out of the apartment so I just sat down and cried and cried. Which is how my husband found me in the morning. He flew into a rage and called my sister in Massachusetts and told her he couldn't take it any more and she needed to come get me. Then he made himself breakfast and went to work. My sister, bless her heart, drove down to NYC to collect me, took me to her house in the woods in Belchertown and promptly came down with a raging flu. Two weeks tending her feverish body releasing foul liquids at both ends was still better for me than being isolated and ignored by my daughter's sperm donor. I went to the store bought a TV and some formula, poked a bunch of holes in the nipple of a bottle and that blessed child, full for probably the first time in her life, slept for six straight hours. It took another two and a half years, including weekly sessions with a very smart individual therapist to really recover - at which point my child's father told me in "marriage counseling" that he wanted a divorce. At which point my recovery finally revved up to warp speed. Even if, during those hellish early weeks, my husband wouldn't come home for damn lunch, someone stopping by every once in a while to see if I was still alive would have made a huge difference.
I am shocked and horrified that your friend's family had to go through that evil bullshit. Shame on that hospital and those health workers for trying to kill that mother and baby with malpractice and neglect.
I'm not entirely sure, but I think my father was my stepmother's fourth husband. She had four kids, and all four have been married at least twice, with the second and/or third spouse usually having been divorced at least once. Good Suthn Babtsts upholding the sanctity of marriage. Meanwhile in my cohort from my college days, there was a trio of starter marriages that fizzled within a couple of years, one whose husband walked out after the birth of their baby, and one couple I figured was always mismatched finally knocked it on the head after 20 years or so. Oh, and there was also one of the classic after bringing up two kids, one who was a problem kid, the husband leaves her for a twenty-something.
My family was Very Roman Catholic there were many, many divorces in my grandparents generation, but we couldn’t afford the annulments so we are mostly Episcopalian or some other acceptable (no speaking in tongues for us)Protestant denomination now. I do still have a Very Roman Catholic great aunt though.
After my father's secretary's husband died, she ended up marrying a widower who had high-school/college-aged kids, the same as she did. One of hers and one of his ended up getting married.
It tasted like Elk? Anne Elk? She has a theory which it is and this is her theory. Hmm. Hmm. HMMMM.
I do hope the nurses who come also double-check mom for postpartum pre-eclampsia symptoms. Because that's one of the highest causes of maternal death. D:
We have 3 last names under one roof. I couldn’t care less that she never changed hers
"An ex-wife" or "my ex-wife," depending on how many wifes you haff had.