The Mama Tao  

An open letter from a former NICU mom, Kory Oransky:

Let me put this in simple terms

Yes, I depended on your children getting vaccinated to protect my daughter.  I depended on that specifically from March 5^th to the end of June, 2010.

From the moment Victoria was born to the moment she left Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin after her open heart surgery, I learned to fear tiny things I couldn’t see.  A cold or fever that any normal child could deal with could have killed my daughter.

No, I’m not being a drama queen.
My daughter was born with a heart defect called Tetralogy of Fallot.  First described back in the 1600’s by a French physician, it consists of four mistakes that together create a heart that can’t pump blood effectively.  Prior to the late 1940’s, when the first heart surgeries performed at Johns Hopkins managed to alleviate some of the circulatory problems of ToF, a child born with this condition had an average life span of 18 months.

For nearly four months, my daughter, my son and I lived in quarantine at home from the rest of the world.  We didn’t leave the house or hospital unless absolutely necessary.  I still thank Heaven for Amazon Prime and internet streaming video.  My husband was the only person who interacted with the outside world from time to time (someone had to work to support the family, after all.)

We did everything humanly possible to shield her from the outside world.
We had to leave the house sometimes, even if only for a doctor appointment.  It didn’t matter if the doctors would have wanted to make an exception and do a house call…there was specialized equipment that they couldn’t pack up and take along for their examinations.  She had to venture out into the world.

I got a little nuts planning out routes to avoid other people.  Doctors did what they could to accommodate our wishes to be either the first in or the last appointment of the day, to minimize the amount of strangers she would be exposed to.

It didn’t matter if I deliberately went to the far corner of a waiting room and glared at the few patients still waiting around, hoping to scare them away from us.  Half the time, someone would wander by to try and play peek-a-boo with her, or see if they could talk to her big brother about the joys of having a little sister.  After all, she didn’t “look sick”.

And every time, I’d whisper a silent prayer ~ Dear God, please protect my girl from whatever cooties this person has.  And, please, keep that coughing kid away from mine….

We were up to date on our shots.

We could only hope that the people who surrounded us also were current on their vaccinations.

It’s not that Victoria couldn’t get immunized.  She did, on the regular schedule.

I worried about the other shots she was too young to get.  Jenny McCarthy can bloviate all she wants about how measles, whooping cough or chicken pox isn’t a big deal.  They would have finished Victoria off.  Her heart couldn’t take it.

How delicate was her heart?  Feeding her took at least an hour, because the mere act of sucking down a bottle of expressed milk (she didn’t have the energy to nurse) exhausted her.  We literally could not let her cry.  If she could not be consoled, we had a potential life or death emergency that required paramedics and a team of doctors and nurses standing by to receive her as soon as she arrived.  The emotional stress would have overloaded her.  A coughing fit?  Run like hell to the hospital.  Pray there was no ice on the roads, rush hour backup or anything else that would slow you down on the way there.

Is it any wonder I lived in fear of the common cold?

Any tiny little sneeze or wheeze, and her parents’ hearts skipped a beat.  No….please no…..just be something random….please, dear God, have it be nothing.  Give her a few more days at home before she has to go in for surgery.  Another day without tubes and wires is all I ask for, Lord. 
We did everything humanly possible to protect her from illness.

Fortunately, we were surrounded by other people who did what they could to protect her, too.  People who never bothered with flu vaccines before got them, because they came into contact with her daddy and didn’t want HIM to get sick….and risk passing it on to Victoria.

They put up with the inconvenience of a sore arm to help a tiny little thing they may never have gotten the chance to meet.  Some of them put up with family and friends who ridiculed their decision, telling them how it wasn’t all THAT effective, and did they KNOW what was IN that shot, anyway?

Was it worth it?  To them, personally….maybe not.  To us, it meant the world.  We can’t thank them enough.

Our little girl is coming up on her second birthday.  She has her daddy wrapped around her little finger.  She specializes in tormenting her older brother, and looks like an angel when she is sleeping.  She has done beautifully since her corrective surgery.  She never has “looked sick”.

She is still up to date on her shots.

Why?

Another little girl at our church is fighting a rare form of leukemia.  She’s had one bone marrow transplant and may need another.  Unlike Victoria, it’s pretty obvious how sick she is when you look at her.

Our little girls may never meet.

But Victoria can now help protect Callie from getting sick.  She won’t pass on measles, mumps, and several other pathogens to other children who cross Callie’s path.  If she does get exposed to them now, thanks to immunizations, we’ll never know.  She’ll just continue on….doing what toddlers do….and being a little ray of sunshine to her ever-expanding fan club.

It’s the least we can do to pay back all those people who surrounded her in a circle of protection when she needed it most.

I’m under no illusions that ANY of this is going to get through your skull.

You claim that all any of us really need to do is eat better and use better hygiene.  You tell us to get more sleep, and prenatal care.  And then there’s the nebulous “lifestyle” recommendation that you don’t bother to define.

Believe it or not, “heart parents” and others who have children in delicate health already do those things.  Some children had oceans of breastmilk, others had special nutrition tailored to their needs.  Everything possible had been wiped down and sanitized.  Forgive us for not being able to sleep….us parents have been up worrying about a tiny one’s future, and our children have been poked and prodded at all hours.  The beeping machines and the other little noises on a hospital floor are pretty effective at insuring no one gets much sleep.  (Don’t get us started on the uncomfortable furniture we’ve tried to nap on.  It’s part of our “lifestyle”, and we don’t get much choice in the matter if we want to be near our kids.)

In spite of your list of recommendations, you’re truly looking at it from a strict “what’s in it for me” approach.  Fair enough.  As a libertarian, I get that.  I fully believe in the idea of doing whatever you want as long as it doesn’t hurt others.

But what you are doing COULD hurt others.

Look, let me illustrate it this way.

Let’s say I took every possible precaution to make sure my daughter was the last appointment of the day at her pediatrician.  We left home late, took a less popular route to the doctors’ office and sat in a corner.  But…your daughter develops a sniffle and a funky little rash, and you decide to just bring her in.

Turns out she has measles.  90% of those exposed to it who have not been immunized will get it.  You’ve already admitted that you don’t believe in immunizations.  Tests confirm she has it, and is contagious.

This was the final examination before my daughter left for her surgery in Milwaukee.  She’s three months old.  Too young for the shot that is her best chance of protection from that virus.

Your daughter wanders the lobby while the receptionist calls you over to talk about an entry on one of their forms.  She is attracted by the cute little baby.  Kids love to look at babies.  She comes close, and sneezes.

My daughter now has measles.  We don’t know it yet.  It will take a few days to ramp up to full virulence.  We pack up shortly after this and head out of town.  We don’t get the news report about the outbreak before we leave Iowa for Wisconsin, and continue on over the Mississippi River.

By the time it’s in full bloom, she’s on the cardiac intensive care unit, waiting for surgery.  Along with other kids, waiting for transplants, valve replacements, and several other procedures.  They are ALL sick kids on that floor.  Yes, even the ones who, like my daughter, “don’t look sick”.

Some of them, like Victoria, are too young to have been vaccinated against measles.

These children are just as loved, just as cherished, as yours….but they are far more fragile.

Your child has a good chance of surviving the measles.  There’s a chance she’ll go deaf, or blind, or maybe even suffer mental retardation as a result.  But more than likely, she’s going to live and be perfectly normal after the infection subsides.

Our children don’t have that prognosis.  They have no reserves left.  They have been fighting to stay alive every single day, and the last thing they need is yet another health crisis.

Your negligence was the coup de grace.

We all did everything we could to protect them, and get them safely to people who could fix their hearts.  They were so close to coming home to us….we could taste it.  We could dream about it.  It was what kept us going through months and years of anger, helplessness and tears.

We didn’t count on your kid….coming into a doctor’s office, seeing the cute little girl in the baby carrier in the corner, spreading a disease that could have been prevented so easily.

We could understand if it was something that had no vaccine.  Our kids are there because of bad luck, after all.  For most of us, doctors couldn’t answer the basic question of “why did this happen to my kid?”  We represented all demographic sectors you could imagine.  We know, deep in our bones, that not all horrible things can be prevented.

But some of them can.

Maybe you can live with that on your conscience.  Personally, I don’t understand how that could be, but I know that’s a possibility.  The death of another child due to your actions apparently either never entered your thoughts, or even more chilling, because you don’t know that kid…..that kid doesn’t count.  At all.  Only you and your little clan are important.

I can’t change the darkness in your soul.  I know a lot of cardiologists, but not even the most talented one can fix a gaping hole where a heart should be.

So, if we can’t get it through your heart, maybe losing a few large in court would get your attention.

By all means, please, tell us how you don’t vaccinate and never intend to.  Cite scientific papers that you don’t understand, imply that antibacterial wipes would eliminate the need for vaccinations, and be sure to claim that vitamins and your “lifestyle” will keep your kids healthier than any shots.

I sure hope you’re right.

But if you aren’t….it may just make some lawyer’s job easier someday when he or she is looking for someone to sue for damages.

And if they want an “Exhibit A” to demonstrate what that injured child’s potential could have been, if only you weren’t so selfish, well….I’ll be happy to swing by with Victoria.  Free of charge to the plaintiffs, even.

Sure, it’s a little bit of an inconvenience.  But, you see, I still have a huge debt of gratitude to pay back…..

My Woodland Birth: A wonderful, peaceful experience by Eartha Somerwind.

I always dreamed of birthing my son outdoors. I knew he needed that, because I still have fears of being inside that linger from my own traumatic birth. I was born via birth rape, you see. My mother was bullied into an unnecessarian, something about her blood pressure being too high. They played the dead baby card and she caved to their pressure. I knew they would do the same to me, so I avoided them all together for my entire pregnancy and instead I found a wonderful shaman to tend to my pregnancy needs. She didn’t even want me to pay her! She just wanted me to bring her vodka and rum!!

Anyhow, the shaman told me that I needed to find a secluded meadow to bring little Optimus into this world. Since we live in metropolitan Los Angeles, I found this to be really hard.. we decided to go to Montana when I entered the final moon cycle, bringing Kalina the Shaman with us. She didn’t have any form of picture ID, so we had to drive the whole way. It’s an old Shaman tradition you see, not having any pictures taken of you. It’s so… ancient! She seemed so anxious to be out of the city too, I wonder if she got bad vibes from being in the city like we did. My life partner Tayvien thinks she’s running from the police, but I think he’s just being paranoid, like he was that one time he smoked too much bad pot.

Speaking of pot, Kalina told me that smoking as I go into labor will make the rushes much better, and will ease the birthing pains. I wanted to feel that pain though! It’s cleansing pain! It will make me a real woman! That’s what I thought, anyhow.

What I didn’t realize is how much it really, really hurt. I also didn’t realize that predators were attracted to the scent of blood. I’m glad that we could run as fast as we could, that I didn’t smoke as much pot as Kalina and Tayvien did. I made it to the car with little Optimus. Tayvien barely made it. We haven’t seen Kalina.
There was so much blood.

So many bears.

Bears…

I never want to see another bear again.

Guest post from a real feminist.

Disclaimer:  I have no qualms about people being on WIC or food stamps, or other public assistance.  They’re great programs that help out young families.

So a certain feminist blogger is beyond pissed.  She meets the criteria for WIC for her family.  Great, right, that there is a program that she can fall back onto in hard times!  Thank goodness for social welfare programs!

Oh.  But they don’t offer her the right kind of food.  Only Gerber?  No organic?  WHAT THE FUCK, she practically hollers on her profile!  Down with processed crap!

Let us look at what some varieties of Gerber jarred food contains:

http://medical.gerber.com/products/productdetails.aspx?articleid=25cbadc8-c83a-4c26-a650-0e8e7231efa4#NutritionProfile

Apples
Apples, water, and ascorbic acid.  Maybe she doesn’t realize that as ascorbic acid is vitamin C.  Who knows.

Carrots
Carrots…and water?  OH THE HORRORS.  But at least no baby acid, right?

Apple strawberries bananas
Apples, strawberries, bananas, and ascorbic acid.  There is that pesky as asorbic acid again.  Why are there acids in baby food for christsake?  Maybe she thinks Gerber is trying to make babies trip on acid; some kind of mind control experiment.

A certain feminist blogger does not like some of the miffed reaction of her audience.  You are feeding you kids…not having to send them to bed hungry…not having to decide between you eating or your kids.  That is unacceptable, in her book.  If it ain’t organic non Gerber it is crap, poison.  Not good enough (see the ingredients above…where is the crap and poison).  So she declares that she’ll block their privileged assess.  People who are also on WIC.  People who say, contracts are negotiated with food manufacturers so that the funds stretch further.  People who suggest she get a job if she hates the options so much.

But hey, it is all about the feminist bloggers needs.  Not even her family’s needs at this point.  Her baby’s body won’t know the difference between Gerber sweet potatoes and sweet potatoes mashed at home.  It’s a status thing at this point.  The state needs to provide her with organic food vouchers.

And then someone encourages fraud!  How awesome is that?

Though someone did point out that her state allows for alternative baby food, specifically Beech Nut.  But that comment is removed too.  It goes against her rant against The Man.

Now let’s talk about white privilege, shall we?  Peggy McIntosh describes it as an “invisible knapsack”.

“I have come to see white privilege as an invisible package of unearned assets that I can count on cashing in each day, but which I was “meant” to remain oblivious.  White privilege is like an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, assurances, tools’ maps, guides, codebooks, passports, visas, clothes, compass, emergency gear, and blank checks.”

The expectation that tax payer funded Gerber food is not good enough for YOUR privileged self…plain old fruits and veggies mixed with water…and then demand that other families potentially go without so you can have foods that you perceive as superior (some say that organic is the biggest scam)…that is white privilege my friends.  Classist too.  From the way a feminist blogger went off on the WIC program, one would have thought she had vouchers to purchase soda pop and pretzels for her kids.

McIntosh also stated that “I see a pattern running through the matrix of white privilege, a pattern of assumptions…there was one main piece of cultural turf; it was my own turf and I was among those who could control the turf.”

Wait…so one person’s needs and expectations based on their white privilege and expectations is perhaps is not going to be the way moving forward for a while?  Now that is some humble pie to swallow isn’t it?

I have friends who have needed to rely solely on WIC.  You better believe they were grateful for full bellies for them, and their children.

Now let’s review hunger stats.

In 2010, 14.5% of US households were food insecure.  Five point four percent of that has a status of “very low food security”.  These households are the ones that go without at times.

http://www.worldhunger.org/articles/Learn/us_hunger_facts.htm

In other countries, she would resort to begging on the street.  Or worse.

In Closing:

So we could all donate organic foods to a certain feminist blogger as some have called for on her Facebook page?  Or able families can donate to their local food bank, cash or food.

Which choice do you think has the biggest impact?  Which choice steps outside the box of privilege?

I don’t think they understood the question.  Fact.

Onions cure ear aches.  Fact

Peaceful Parenting ruined the Ryan Gosling meme.  Fact.

This chick is a more dramatic than a Telenovela.

That is stated right on their degrees.  Fact.

Everyone knows you feel a two week high after birth in other countries, but not in the terrible USofA. Especially third world ones. Fact.

I don’t think this lady’s mother named her this. Also, her name automatically gives her the Sanctimommy badge. Fact.

I don’t know who this chick is, but she’s awesome.  Fact.

A message from Lisa.

Ladies and Yoni pokers! I have something to say. One year ago in March I, Lisa Anetha Miller of Boone North Carolina started a blog called “The Mama Tao”. I took pictures of myself as Mama Tao. There is a little problem though…about 16 other people have played the role of Mama Tao at various times. Each and every one of them has total access to every account owned by The Mama Tao. Mama Tao is a brand, not a person–never was. One can look at the bottom of the original blog on blogger and see that all content is owned by “Met on SOB” That is a GROUP of people, not a person. I am now being called out for articles on the Mama Tao blog that I didn’t write–never had a hand in. I have not so much as touched the blog in over 6 months. You’ve been fooled and I am sorry. There is no way to tell who was playing Mama Tao at what point, but you cannot blame the entire blog on me. I am retired as Mama Tao. Long Live Mama Tao. Have a nice day

P.S. Thanks for all the traffic!

Let’s tune in while people on Peaceful Parenting discuss the need for braces…

And on the 8th day God said, LET THERE BE CROOKED TEETH, BITCHES.  Fact.

Only babies who breastfeed have nice teeth.  Fact.

Someone will bring up baby penises in any conversation on that page.  Fact.

This lady made up this statistic as she was typing.  Fact.

Weaning too early leads to crooked teeth.  Fact.

Let’s tune out now and go back to reality.

Greeting Ladies of The Mama Tao Universe!

My name is Naper LeHoudne’ and I’m here to tell you all of the magical journey my wife, GloryBee and I went on over the past two years. Science likes to pretend like it has the answers to everything when we who are closer to the Earth and Her bounty know that many things happen that “Doctors” cannot always account for.

A few years ago my wife and I were expecting out first child. GloryBee went into labor one cold winter’s evening, but by the next day she had still not brought our little one Earthside. But that afternoon our Granny Woman told us that perhaps sex would be a good way to open her cervix and expel our bundle.

Me and My wife GloryBee in our Yuppie days

We eagerly did as our midwife asked and a few hours later GloryBee was pushing out our little joy wad into my loving arms.

Our Little Lucy McCloud McCloy McCluster

We were so happy to have her here that the months went by without us even once being carnal with each other. having our little one vocalizing all night long and co-sleeping had totally put a cap on our love-making. Also, my wife had taken up with a local Nude Mothers Club (mainly a group of women that flash their cleavage on Facebook when they think no one is watching) that required her to go out late in the evenings and come home smelling like wine and fine cheese.

Knowing we’d not has sex, I was quite surprised to learn that my wife was expecting again and I must admit, my first thoughts were negative. It was then that my wife reminded me of the night of love-making we had while expecting our daughter! Was it possible that we had conceived this newest bundle while still pregnant with our first? Well sure it was!

Let me tell you something Ladies, these doctors don’t know anything about how magical the world can be. MY wife’s body was so perfect that it could ovulate while in labor. I trust and love my wife and I assure you that is the ONLY explanation for this situation!

And let me tell you something else, Ladies. Mrs. BWF is right about babies not needing to be put on a time-table. They DO know how and when to be born –because our little boy, Salyd Spuun, was born almost 3 months after the date of conception, weighing 8 pounds and as healthy as a horse. However, we were not risking making another baby with this labor so we didn’t make love this time. Trust your body ladies! They are capable of doing many wonderful things that scientists cannot fathom.

Our Son Salyd Spuun