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New SingleMom.com's Blog
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Welcome to the new SingleMom.Com's Blog. Please let your voices be heard here
at our new Blog at: Single
Mom's Blog
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Our contributor:
Cecily
Harrison
Writer/Photographer
She is a single mother and writer/photographer living in Los Angeles with
her toddler daughter, Arabella. She loves being a mother and treasures the
friendship and exchange of information from other mothers, single or
otherwise.
"...thirty-six hours, two birthing rooms, two nurse shift
changes, and two anesthesiologists later. The doctors and nurses—everyone—has
been reading my birth plan and keeping up. “Pink, perfect, healthy, beautiful,”
says the neonatologist, and I look into my daughter’s eyes. Nothing can prepare
you. A lifetime of waiting, satisfied in a moment. Every heightened sense,
beauty, brilliant idea or prose, it’s all there, as Arabella stares back at me,
her eyes pinched as if to say, “What kept you.” In her story
Implant - the experienced of
being a single mom by choice.
She can be reach at: 323.461.3562 or via mail at
5164 Clinton Street
Los Angeles, California 90004
Health
Article
Breastfeeding and Your Hospital Birth -
by
Cecily Harrison -
The
big day is coming--soon, you’ll have your baby in your arms. If you’re
delivering in a hospital, you’ve had the tour, you’ve seen the room, you’ve
imagined the moment you meet your newborn. You cry just thinking about it. Then, your baby
is here. Perhaps you delivered without medication, the baby was early, late,
you were induced, had an epidural, a C-section. You intend to breastfeed,
hopefully, you took a class. But there is such a whirlwind of events with a
hospital birth, and every woman is different, so every breastfeeding experience
may be as well. Your mother may not have breastfed, your grandmother isn’t
around. The nurse is busy, the doctor said congratulations and goodbye an hour
ago.

Surviving
Colic, and all the advice comes with it -
I had waited so long, I
wanted
the entire experience of motherhood to be instinctive, natural.
I pictured my little angel smiling sweetly when she wanted to nurse, and
afterwards, drifting to sleep in her Moses basket as I floated from one
bohemian setting to another. “Women have been doing this for thousands of years,” I kept
repeating, and each time someone with children suggested being a parent was the
hardest job around, I’d say, “Bring it on.”
Then somewhere around five weeks,
all hell broke loose. My sweet little lamb with the heart-shaped mouth started
crying. She cried each time I put her down. She cried when she
nursed, tormented by gas. “Colic,” said the pediatrician, and prescribed Mylicon ‘round the clock.