I went for my thirty-two week check-up yesterday at the doctor's surgery. Since about a month ago I've been going every two weeks, and from thirty-six weeks I'll be going once a week instead. It's not a hardship now I've started working from home and most of the time I enjoy the visits. I like hearing my baby's little heartbeat and spending time in the waiting room in the company of other pregnant women. (We all check out each other's bumps to see how far along we are. It's competition time, ninja-style.)
Yesterday, however, I wasn't at all impressed with my visit. To start with, since we moved house my journey to the doctor's has been made considerably shorter, which I forgot about completely until I rolled up to the hospital almost an hour early. So I stayed in my car, rolled down the window and read The New Yorker for a bit, then waddled my huge stomach and backside up to the third floor about ten minutes before my appointment. I was then kept waiting for an astonishing FORTY minutes (unheard of in this insurance-driven country) because they've changed the layout a bit and were down to only two clinic rooms. Of course, it wasn't until I went back up to the counter and pouted with an English accent that things started moving, so naturally I was quite put out and needed to have a wee.
Ah, having a wee. Normally I'm quite skilled at this part, having peed into the little cup so many flipping times already. However, yesterday for the first time I realised that I am no longer able to SEE the cup underneath my big belly. In vain I tried scooting myself around on the toilet seat for a better angle, lifting my stomach to see if that would help and finally settled on the only option left to me: blind luck. I ended up weeing on my hand, the cup, the label on the cup and even on the seat (how the hell did it get there?!), but I'm a pro and didn't panic. I had already prepared my clean-up crew for this very event ahead of time and proceded to wipe everything down with what can only be described as one of those little handi-wipes you get from KFC when you order chicken.
Weeing test done? Check.
Blood pressure done? Check.
Listening to the baby's heartbeat? Check.
Doctor running late and nearly out the door...? Hang on a sec!
I'd been at the hospital since 3.10pm and only in to see the doctor for five measly minutes by 4.45pm, so I decided to milk my time with him for as much as possible. I decided to ask him what my options were for contraceptives after the baby is born, although I kinda wish I hadn't...
In his best high school sex-education teacher voice, my doctor lectured me on every single kind of contraceptive imaginable for the next ten minutes. He told me that abstinence was the only fool-proof method (in his words, "to my knowledge there's only been one failure, and that was 2,000 years ago."), explained the difference between progesterone-only hormones and combined hormones (progesterone and estrogen) and even told me the most cost-effective method (a ten-year IUD, provided you leave it in that long). Not once did he ask me whether I wanted any more children after this one and if so, when we planned on conceiving them. I felt like a careless teenager being given one of life's lessons too late.
It also bothered me that my options for contraception after the birth are so limited. My husband and I don't enjoy using condoms and are quite frankly NOT going to abstain from sex, so I wanted a hormonal method instead. Here's the lowdown: progesterone (p) only hormones are available as injections, implants, tablets and patches but they can mess up your periods, leading to heavier, irregular cycles and spotting or bleeding in between. Combined (c) hormones are available as pills, patches and IUDs, but while they give you shorter, lighter periods, they can also seriously limit the amount of breastmilk you produce, which is obviously less than ideal for nursing mothers. Both p- and c-pills leak hormones into breastmilk, which nursing babies then injest. It's not harmful to them, but I can't imagine it's beneficial either. Most new mothers therefore choose a p-only hormone and just put up with the crappy cycles and irregular bleeding, but I want more than that.
Why hasn't the medical industry come up with a better alternative yet? The c-pill has been around since the 1950s and yet we STILL can't offer women a third option? I want to breastfeed but I don't want to bleed. I also want to have sex on MY schedule, not on the whim of a pill that dictates if will be bleeding that night. Is that so hard to figure out? I also want to be able to pee into a little cup using a better method than blind luck. Why hasn't someone come up with a better option for this, too? Honestly, it's as though we're the last ones to take into consideration, even though pregnant women are clearly into sex and probably wee into cups more often than any other human beings in the space of nine months. Where is the medical industry now?
Failing us, that's where.
Tina
Friday, April 24, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The old abortion debate
Oddly enough, I've found myself becoming simultaneously both more pro-choice and more pro-life than I was before. Why is this?
I have always described myself as 'pro-life in theory, pro-choice in practice'. What I mean by this is that whilst, to me, the ending of a child's life before it has begun is theoretically abhorrent, I also live in the real world and recognise that easy access to free, safe, legal abortion is absolutely necessary to ensure women's freedom. In places where this is not available, women live in dreadful circumstances. I am not going to detail those here, it's all been done elsewhere.
I have become more pro-life in that I do not understand how, after seeing scan pictures (as early as 8 weeks) and feeling movements (as early as 16 weeks) any woman could possibly contemplate the ending of that little, helpless life inside her (abortion in this country is legal up to 24 weeks). I suppose that the vast majority of terminations happen much earlier than this and that someone who was going to have one would not have a scan or reach the stage where she felt movements, but the overwhelming urge I have to protect the fetus inside me really makes me question how anyone could choose to terminate a pregnancy.
On the other hand, this pregnancy is the single biggest upheaval I've experienced in my life. I was dreadfully sick in the early stages and am sufferering just as badly in the late stages with heartburn. I've had interrupted sleep throughout the last 7 months, constipation, alarming mood swings, swollen ankles and tiredness at all sorts of strange times. It is no exaggeration that a pregnancy takes over your entire body and by extension your whole life: I no longer play in my music group due to exhaustion, I can't travel easily, various fun activities (e.g. rollercoasters, certain sports) are off-limits and I've had to cut out some of my favourite foods, such as mouldy cheeses (a big deal for a vegetarian!!). This is before we even come to the pain and trauma of the birth, and the trials and responsiblities of being a parent. As strongly as I feel about fetal rights, I now feel more strongly than ever that no woman should ever, ever be forced to go through what I've been going through or am about to experience - and I'm having a fairly straightforward preganancy! So yes, I could say that I'm more pro-choice these days.
And that is how I come to be both more pro-life and more pro-choice as a result of experiencing pregnancy for myself. Thank you and good night.
Anthea
I have always described myself as 'pro-life in theory, pro-choice in practice'. What I mean by this is that whilst, to me, the ending of a child's life before it has begun is theoretically abhorrent, I also live in the real world and recognise that easy access to free, safe, legal abortion is absolutely necessary to ensure women's freedom. In places where this is not available, women live in dreadful circumstances. I am not going to detail those here, it's all been done elsewhere.
I have become more pro-life in that I do not understand how, after seeing scan pictures (as early as 8 weeks) and feeling movements (as early as 16 weeks) any woman could possibly contemplate the ending of that little, helpless life inside her (abortion in this country is legal up to 24 weeks). I suppose that the vast majority of terminations happen much earlier than this and that someone who was going to have one would not have a scan or reach the stage where she felt movements, but the overwhelming urge I have to protect the fetus inside me really makes me question how anyone could choose to terminate a pregnancy.
On the other hand, this pregnancy is the single biggest upheaval I've experienced in my life. I was dreadfully sick in the early stages and am sufferering just as badly in the late stages with heartburn. I've had interrupted sleep throughout the last 7 months, constipation, alarming mood swings, swollen ankles and tiredness at all sorts of strange times. It is no exaggeration that a pregnancy takes over your entire body and by extension your whole life: I no longer play in my music group due to exhaustion, I can't travel easily, various fun activities (e.g. rollercoasters, certain sports) are off-limits and I've had to cut out some of my favourite foods, such as mouldy cheeses (a big deal for a vegetarian!!). This is before we even come to the pain and trauma of the birth, and the trials and responsiblities of being a parent. As strongly as I feel about fetal rights, I now feel more strongly than ever that no woman should ever, ever be forced to go through what I've been going through or am about to experience - and I'm having a fairly straightforward preganancy! So yes, I could say that I'm more pro-choice these days.
And that is how I come to be both more pro-life and more pro-choice as a result of experiencing pregnancy for myself. Thank you and good night.
Anthea
But... aren't you supposed to get fat?
All the medical professionals - midwives, doctors - I've dealt with so far have been women. I've liked some more than others. Some were reassuring, some were rude, some were funny, some were know-it-alls, several had had children of their own. Where I live, one's antenatal care is shared between the hospital (where one is seen by midwives and if necessary a consultant) and your GP. At my GP's surgery, in common with many others, the doctor you actually see will not necessarily be your own registered GP, but whoever can fit you in, so until recently both my antenatal appointments at my doctor's had been with a female GP (and mother, incidently).
This week, I saw my own GP instead. We hadn't met before and I liked him very much. He's in his 40s, I suppose, and I couldn't tell whether he had any children of his own. He carried out a couple of the usual tests and asked the usual questions. Then he asked me to step on the scales - something I hadn't done since my initial booking appointment. The first time I did this, in about th eighth week of my pregnancy, I had a Body Mass Index (BMI) of 27 which made me overweight. I am 5'2" and a size 10-12, and I've always known I've weighed a lot. I must just have dense bones or something. The point is, I was, and always have been, in good shape - and I am not the first person to have noticed that shorter people are disadvantaged by BMI calculations. The midwife was surprised at the BMI but looked me up and down and decided there was clearly no problem with my weight. I have never owned a set of scales and have always eaten sensibly but still according to what I want rather than how I look. Besides, I read in my pregnancy book that weight gain is no longer seen as an accurate measure of how a pregnancy is progressing so is not usually monitored these days.
So, this week, for my GP, I got on the scales for the first time since October. I weighed about 11st, which means I've put on about a stone and a quarter. Given that my baby is due in 8 weeks, I think this is a reasonable amount. Added to which, my face has got no fatter than it was and is always the first place to show whenever my weight fluctuates, so I'm confident that the weight gain is temporary and that I'll have little difficulty losing it once the baby's born. Being the liberated woman that I am, I stepped off the scales seeing the weight gain as of little consequence. Mr GP, however, had other ideas. "That's quite a good weight gain," he said. I was pleased. I thought this meant that the weight gain was just right for the health of my baby and me. He and I clearly have different ideas of what the word 'good' means, as he then went on to make it clear that he thought I'd put too much on. "You know, it's OK to diet during late pregnancy," he continued, "I think it's due to hormones. The women in my family tell me they want to eat more during pregnancy and their periods, so they eat too much. Don't cut out just one food group, just cut down generally so you're still getting some of everything."
I was stunned! I nodded and made noises of assent, but all the time I was wondering what the hell he thought he was saying. I simply cannot contemplate eating any less right now. I need vast amounts of energy just to get through the day (I teach small children for a living) and what's more, I eat when I'm hungry - not just for the hell of it but when I'm hungry! Does he expect me to continue being hungry? Why?? Would he go through the day being hungry? Nope, he would eat! I cannot help but wonder if I would have received the same advice from a female professional - particularly one who had been through pregnancy herself. Is this sexist of me? Quite possibly. But I also think there was implicit sexism in his use of the word 'diet', especially as a verb. I have never dieted in my life and I got the feeling that he thought he was asking me to do something which would be no problem for me.
Needless to say, I am ignoring that particular nugget of advice. As usual, I am eating what I want and keeping it pretty sensible. And to me, eating sensibly means never, ever going hungry if you can avoid it. Which would probably be good advice for everyone.
Anthea
This week, I saw my own GP instead. We hadn't met before and I liked him very much. He's in his 40s, I suppose, and I couldn't tell whether he had any children of his own. He carried out a couple of the usual tests and asked the usual questions. Then he asked me to step on the scales - something I hadn't done since my initial booking appointment. The first time I did this, in about th eighth week of my pregnancy, I had a Body Mass Index (BMI) of 27 which made me overweight. I am 5'2" and a size 10-12, and I've always known I've weighed a lot. I must just have dense bones or something. The point is, I was, and always have been, in good shape - and I am not the first person to have noticed that shorter people are disadvantaged by BMI calculations. The midwife was surprised at the BMI but looked me up and down and decided there was clearly no problem with my weight. I have never owned a set of scales and have always eaten sensibly but still according to what I want rather than how I look. Besides, I read in my pregnancy book that weight gain is no longer seen as an accurate measure of how a pregnancy is progressing so is not usually monitored these days.
So, this week, for my GP, I got on the scales for the first time since October. I weighed about 11st, which means I've put on about a stone and a quarter. Given that my baby is due in 8 weeks, I think this is a reasonable amount. Added to which, my face has got no fatter than it was and is always the first place to show whenever my weight fluctuates, so I'm confident that the weight gain is temporary and that I'll have little difficulty losing it once the baby's born. Being the liberated woman that I am, I stepped off the scales seeing the weight gain as of little consequence. Mr GP, however, had other ideas. "That's quite a good weight gain," he said. I was pleased. I thought this meant that the weight gain was just right for the health of my baby and me. He and I clearly have different ideas of what the word 'good' means, as he then went on to make it clear that he thought I'd put too much on. "You know, it's OK to diet during late pregnancy," he continued, "I think it's due to hormones. The women in my family tell me they want to eat more during pregnancy and their periods, so they eat too much. Don't cut out just one food group, just cut down generally so you're still getting some of everything."
I was stunned! I nodded and made noises of assent, but all the time I was wondering what the hell he thought he was saying. I simply cannot contemplate eating any less right now. I need vast amounts of energy just to get through the day (I teach small children for a living) and what's more, I eat when I'm hungry - not just for the hell of it but when I'm hungry! Does he expect me to continue being hungry? Why?? Would he go through the day being hungry? Nope, he would eat! I cannot help but wonder if I would have received the same advice from a female professional - particularly one who had been through pregnancy herself. Is this sexist of me? Quite possibly. But I also think there was implicit sexism in his use of the word 'diet', especially as a verb. I have never dieted in my life and I got the feeling that he thought he was asking me to do something which would be no problem for me.
Needless to say, I am ignoring that particular nugget of advice. As usual, I am eating what I want and keeping it pretty sensible. And to me, eating sensibly means never, ever going hungry if you can avoid it. Which would probably be good advice for everyone.
Anthea
Thursday, January 1, 2009
An apology...
So, I feel an apology is due. In an earlier post, I whinged on about the medical industry not seeming to care about morning sickness and other beastly things women have to put up with during pregnancy. Well, apparently they do care. A little bit, at least.
Let me explain.
Up until mid-November, I was feeling quite chuffed that I hadn't thrown up with morning sickness, although I did feel pretty rotten for most of the day, every day. Then I started to be sick occasionally, mainly in the morning and usually if I hadn't eaten enough. It happened about once a week until mid-December, when I started to not get through two days without heaving. It started to wear me out and I had to take two days off work just to recover (only one of which they are paying me for, the bastards. Since April I've worked there and I'm only entitled to one measly sick day!) Anywhoo, a week and a half ago it got very bad. Very bad indeed. I started to not be able to keep food down at all, and began to lose weight. In fact, by the time I made it in to see the doctor, I weighed less than I did before I got pregnant. This, apparently, is not good news.
So, everything came to a head last Monday. I woke up at 4am and proceeded to throw up every fifteen minutes until we left to see the doctor at 10am. I am proud to say I did not throw up at the doctor's office, but as I'd been puking up stomach fluids and whatnot, there was no fluid left in me to pee into a little cup. I saw the nurse, who was lovely lovely lovely (and eight months pregnant herself) and she gave me some water with delicious ice chips in. I am now a fan of this nurse. The doctor came in next, took one look at me and prescribed anti-nausea medication. I am now also a fan of this doctor and the entire medical industry.
Apparently, they DO care! They make lovely little white pills which, when taken correctly and with food (providing, of course, you don't feel so bad you puke them up before they get a chance to work) stop ladies from feeling sick within about an hour. This is like pregnancy crack for me, and I feel wonderful again. I haven't had to take them every day, but the thought they're there is extremely comforting. My official diagnosis was hyperemesis gravidarum (see http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/796564-overview), which is one notch up from "normal" morning sickness and if not treated, can be quite scary. I am therefore extremely happy to have nipped this in the bud. The doctor was also happy, as if I had gone on for any longer he would have sent me straight down to emergency and hooked me up to a fluid drip.
Me and my baby are now getting healthy again. I can keep my prenatal vitamins down and I've gone off junk food completely, which means I'm eating salads and drinking lots of juice. It's good to know things are back on track and I'm now looking forward to January 15th, 2009, when my husband and I find out the sex of the baby and get to explore the maternity ward at the hospital. All exciting stuff, and I can look forward to it knowing I won't be throwing up throughout the experience.
Happy days are here again.
Tina.
Let me explain.
Up until mid-November, I was feeling quite chuffed that I hadn't thrown up with morning sickness, although I did feel pretty rotten for most of the day, every day. Then I started to be sick occasionally, mainly in the morning and usually if I hadn't eaten enough. It happened about once a week until mid-December, when I started to not get through two days without heaving. It started to wear me out and I had to take two days off work just to recover (only one of which they are paying me for, the bastards. Since April I've worked there and I'm only entitled to one measly sick day!) Anywhoo, a week and a half ago it got very bad. Very bad indeed. I started to not be able to keep food down at all, and began to lose weight. In fact, by the time I made it in to see the doctor, I weighed less than I did before I got pregnant. This, apparently, is not good news.
So, everything came to a head last Monday. I woke up at 4am and proceeded to throw up every fifteen minutes until we left to see the doctor at 10am. I am proud to say I did not throw up at the doctor's office, but as I'd been puking up stomach fluids and whatnot, there was no fluid left in me to pee into a little cup. I saw the nurse, who was lovely lovely lovely (and eight months pregnant herself) and she gave me some water with delicious ice chips in. I am now a fan of this nurse. The doctor came in next, took one look at me and prescribed anti-nausea medication. I am now also a fan of this doctor and the entire medical industry.
Apparently, they DO care! They make lovely little white pills which, when taken correctly and with food (providing, of course, you don't feel so bad you puke them up before they get a chance to work) stop ladies from feeling sick within about an hour. This is like pregnancy crack for me, and I feel wonderful again. I haven't had to take them every day, but the thought they're there is extremely comforting. My official diagnosis was hyperemesis gravidarum (see http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/796564-overview), which is one notch up from "normal" morning sickness and if not treated, can be quite scary. I am therefore extremely happy to have nipped this in the bud. The doctor was also happy, as if I had gone on for any longer he would have sent me straight down to emergency and hooked me up to a fluid drip.
Me and my baby are now getting healthy again. I can keep my prenatal vitamins down and I've gone off junk food completely, which means I'm eating salads and drinking lots of juice. It's good to know things are back on track and I'm now looking forward to January 15th, 2009, when my husband and I find out the sex of the baby and get to explore the maternity ward at the hospital. All exciting stuff, and I can look forward to it knowing I won't be throwing up throughout the experience.
Happy days are here again.
Tina.
Monday, December 22, 2008
In sorrow thou shalt bring forth children
Giving birth and all the physical changes doing so incurs has long been framed as a burden, even a punishment, for women. I mean, from start to finish, the capacity to reproduce gives females grief: periods (Early or late starter? Chronic cramps? Bleeding for 5 days?), pregnancy (Nausea? Vomiting? Exhaustion? Loss of balance? Forgetfulness? Aches and pains? Leaking breasts? etc etc etc), birth (Like, massive amounts of pain...), breastfeeding (tied to someone else for 6 months) and menopause (hot flushes, facial hair etc etc). What a palaver. You'd be forgiven for thinking that nature (or God, depending on your persuasion) really really has dealt the female sex an unfair hand.
And yet, and yet. I can't help but feel honoured that I get to do this. That in order for my husband and me to have a child, I get to be the one that grows it inside me, keeps it close to me at all times, brings it into the world and then nourishes it with my own body. It's incredible and I feel so lucky. This could also be something to do with the fact that I am a natural attention seeker and am really enjoying the fuss people are making of me (!) - but that doesn't explain those joyful, silent moments when I am all alone with my belly, stroking it and thinking peaceful thoughts. I feel slightly sorry for my husband that, although he escapes the nausea, backache etc, he doesn't get to have this primal connection with the baby, or at least, not yet.
I recognise that other people will feel differently about this, and certainly don't expect all women to embrace the notion that giving birth should be their number one achievement in life, but I just can't see this as a burden or a punishment. It's an honour.
Anthea
And yet, and yet. I can't help but feel honoured that I get to do this. That in order for my husband and me to have a child, I get to be the one that grows it inside me, keeps it close to me at all times, brings it into the world and then nourishes it with my own body. It's incredible and I feel so lucky. This could also be something to do with the fact that I am a natural attention seeker and am really enjoying the fuss people are making of me (!) - but that doesn't explain those joyful, silent moments when I am all alone with my belly, stroking it and thinking peaceful thoughts. I feel slightly sorry for my husband that, although he escapes the nausea, backache etc, he doesn't get to have this primal connection with the baby, or at least, not yet.
I recognise that other people will feel differently about this, and certainly don't expect all women to embrace the notion that giving birth should be their number one achievement in life, but I just can't see this as a burden or a punishment. It's an honour.
Anthea
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Just a quickie - although I must say I'm genuinely surprised that I can't find more to add to this blog!
I made a comment recently in front of several people I know about throwing up at certain times of the day. A middle-aged male acquaintence said, "Well, that's self-inflicted though", as if I'd been referring to a bad hangover or something.
Honestly, silly girl, choosing to have a baby on a whim like that and then moaning about it! Women are just so selfish, having children like some sort of hobby. I mean, you never catch a man doing anything stupid like that do you? No, they stick to sensible things like fighting. A load of men, going around fighting.
Disclaimer: the above is a load of sarcasm, mixed with a Father Ted quote, before anyone tries to quote me on it
Anthea
I made a comment recently in front of several people I know about throwing up at certain times of the day. A middle-aged male acquaintence said, "Well, that's self-inflicted though", as if I'd been referring to a bad hangover or something.
Honestly, silly girl, choosing to have a baby on a whim like that and then moaning about it! Women are just so selfish, having children like some sort of hobby. I mean, you never catch a man doing anything stupid like that do you? No, they stick to sensible things like fighting. A load of men, going around fighting.
Disclaimer: the above is a load of sarcasm, mixed with a Father Ted quote, before anyone tries to quote me on it
Anthea
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Birth. Mothers. Birth Mothers.
A colleague of mine has recently been searching for her birth mother, and found her and her other children just before the weekend. It's fairly rocked her. She has always had an interest in finding out where she came from, but didn't pursue it until she had a baby of her own. So far things are looking fairly good, as both parties want a relationship to exist, but her birth siblings apparently didn't know anything about her birth mother's past and the fact my colleague even exists.
Now I'm pregnant it's got me thinking. I've always been pro-choice and believe that women should be given an abortion if they want one, but I have also always said that I didn't think I could personally ever make that choice. As soon as my husband and I started our sexual relationship as teenagers, I said that even if we were careless and conceived, I would still keep the pregnancy. I think I would have also kept the child, if only because adoption seems like such a minefield. Imagine you're the child. Imagine you're the mother. Heck, imagine you're the father! The choices you make when you're pregnant can have a profound impact on so many people's lives, not least of all your own and the new life you're busy creating. If you keep a child or offer it a better life with someone else, your decision will change everything forever.
Mind you, if you keep a child and make irresponsible choices while you're pregnant, that also changes everything forever. I work at an IT technical college for career-changing adults, and one of our youngest students (just 19) has had a baby with his girlfriend. He came into campus last week beaming all over, and everyone asked the usual questions: sex, labour, weight... etc. His little boy was full-term but weighed just 4lbs 12oz. When I asked him why this was, he casually said "Oh, probably because of her smoking." All the staff are shocked at this, particularly those of us with children or expecting them shortly.
Is his child better off with its parents, who may love him dearly but cannot care for him properly (they live in a trailer park, the electricity has been cut off due to non-payments, neither parent intends to give up smoking) or with a family who cannot have their own children but would never be that boy's "real parents"? The questions are endless and no-one has any real answers.
The only thing we can do is our best for the children who do end up in our care.
Tina.
Now I'm pregnant it's got me thinking. I've always been pro-choice and believe that women should be given an abortion if they want one, but I have also always said that I didn't think I could personally ever make that choice. As soon as my husband and I started our sexual relationship as teenagers, I said that even if we were careless and conceived, I would still keep the pregnancy. I think I would have also kept the child, if only because adoption seems like such a minefield. Imagine you're the child. Imagine you're the mother. Heck, imagine you're the father! The choices you make when you're pregnant can have a profound impact on so many people's lives, not least of all your own and the new life you're busy creating. If you keep a child or offer it a better life with someone else, your decision will change everything forever.
Mind you, if you keep a child and make irresponsible choices while you're pregnant, that also changes everything forever. I work at an IT technical college for career-changing adults, and one of our youngest students (just 19) has had a baby with his girlfriend. He came into campus last week beaming all over, and everyone asked the usual questions: sex, labour, weight... etc. His little boy was full-term but weighed just 4lbs 12oz. When I asked him why this was, he casually said "Oh, probably because of her smoking." All the staff are shocked at this, particularly those of us with children or expecting them shortly.
Is his child better off with its parents, who may love him dearly but cannot care for him properly (they live in a trailer park, the electricity has been cut off due to non-payments, neither parent intends to give up smoking) or with a family who cannot have their own children but would never be that boy's "real parents"? The questions are endless and no-one has any real answers.
The only thing we can do is our best for the children who do end up in our care.
Tina.
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