Not quite a sore spot after all

I feel better. I really do.

I can actually read the huge, two-page display in the Sunday Times on the marriage and parenthood perks without feeling like throwing up!

For my current state of well-being, I have SJI Jr to thank! On Friday night, despite the rain, Isaac and I went for the PSLE mass in the school hall. I've always liked school masses - reminds me so much of those wonderful masses held in the Marymount chapel back in school. Something about the simplicity of the set-up, the presence of young boys and girls etc, even the hymns sung, always makes me feel nostalgic.

The gospel reading spoke about having trust in God. Why worry, it said, for if God will take care of the lilies in the field, surely He will take care of you. Immediately I felt better - like someone gave me a good much-needed kick in the head. Ah, a moment of clarity!

All this time, for KH and I, we have always believed that what God gives, God will provide for. We never needed any Baby Bonus to seal that belief or to drive our actions and our decisions.

God will provide. He always does. I felt relieved at that reminder and yet sheepishly stupid - what had I been thinking, and being so miserable for over the past week? What a waste of time and what a twat I was! How could I ever doubt Him?

So God worked it out in such a way that the financial incentives don't really come to us, but He has His reasons surely. And of course, He has always seen us through and He would never abandon us.

I thought about how, whenever money was tight, there would always been some coming in from somewhere at the most unexpected moments - not through windfalls like Toto (though KH wishes!!) but through, say, an unexpected private class or two that I would be asked to give etc. And that, often, is just enough to meet the shortfall that I am struggling to make up for.

Over the years, I have come to realise that His ways are not our ways and sometimes they are downright baffling! But one thing is clear - He never gives us more than we want or too little, He always gives us 'just right'. Even when He gives us Toto! (the last time we won the lottery was in 1992 and even then, we only got about $3000 and it was enough to subsidise our honeymoon in Hawaii - we would never have been able to go for one otherwise!)

So I feel loads better. He has given us the tax rebates and that will help of course. I am happier today than I was last week.

PMO also replied to my emotional outburst - just a standard reply to say they can't accede to my suggestions etc and they hope I understand. Well, I might not agree, but I do understand. I think that coming out of all this is at least the knowledge that the PM reads our stuff, has his inbox always open for us and is ready to listen. How many heads of state do this? So for that at least, I am glad.

With all this, I can't say I am not tempted to have Baby number 6. My mother, as expected, said pointblank when I saw her on Sunday: Don't Even Think About It! My aunt, who was present, gave the good news that my cousin was expecting number 5 - so she joins the ranks of Big Families! With that, I am no longer the anomaly in the family. Someone else in the family shares the same insanity gene. And of course, reading the Sunday Times gave a pleasant surprise (Congratulations Serene!! Seven!!) .

But I come swiftly back down to earth in the evening when Trinity went into one of her obstinate moods - first she refused to get into the car seat and KH had to drive off, send the kids home and then come back for us. I don't like pandering to it so I just sat with her at mom's void deck - either she got into the car or we would just stay at the void deck. It took a while, much enraged jumping up and down and infuriated screaming (by her!) before she would agree to let me bring her to the car and strap her in. Then later at night, she refused to wear her PJs after her bath at night, and last night was cold thanks to the incessant rain! Grrr....

I find dealing with her tantrums tiring and rather annoying. I've come to the stage when I feel like I have less patience for all this. Its not like I don't understand that this is 'normal', she is testing the limits and as a parent, I should think of more creative responses instead of "Stop it or else!" But catch me when I am physically tired and I am pretty much brain-dead when it comes to creative and sensitive parenting.

So with all this, and of course, the thought of starting all over again with a new baby - God help me! - with the breastfeeding (and with eczemic nipples!), the diapering, etc etc... all makes me feel very tired. Yes, I would love to have the birth I've always wanted, but what happens after birth? The work has only just begun and I'm not sure that the idea of a homebirth and the government's parenthood package is enough justification for another 21 years of angst over a kid!

So the odds are that we will remain as a family of 7 instead of 8. (Ivan, better not bet on this - you're more likely to lose this one!) Still, never say never. If God chooses to give us one more, He will. And if that happens, tired or not, I'll just have to rise to the challenges and do it all over again! I just found it very interesting that the timing of all these announcements come right when I am contemplating a hysterectomy! Er, is God telling me something?? I always said He's got a real warped sense of humour with lots of inside jokes that only He gets!

A sore spot

So it was that I went from jumping on the couch a la the deranged Mr Cruise to brooding like Byron in the span of just 5 days.

On Sunday, I cheered when PM referred to the letter I wrote with 4 other big-family-mummies to ST on why the bloody perks stopped at 4 when we all had 5 kids. Wow - I thought, euphoric - we made a difference! They were listening. I had nothing but warm fuzzy cuddly thoughts towards the PM and the govt. I even sent him a note to thank him, which he promptly replied.

So there I was basking and dismissing all warning sighs (not a typo) from KH, who said darkly that he was sure we would not get it - the govt could not be so magnanimous suddenly. I dismissed the dire prophecies with an airy wave and empty caveats (empty because I did not believe in them) such as "Okay, let's wait and see. Hopefully he will etc."

I was stupid and wrong. And I must have hexed myself with my joy. And the Tom Cruise stunt could hardly have impressed the gods.

So it was midweek that I found my mood plummeting to rock bottom when I realised: I was not getting a cent. Oh yes, we got what we lobbied for - that incentives would be extended to the 5th and latter born children. But not to us. They were not backdating it, they were not pro-rating it. It started, they said, from 1 Jan 2009. The only one of us big-family-mummies who got anything was barbs who got the PTR of $20,000.

I think I heard my heart break.

I sent off an impassioned, emotional piece to the PM, saying everything but short of begging him to please please please give me the money!

Cruel irony - to lobby and be successful but to be denied any taste of success for my own family.

The other big-family-mummies are certainly taking this a lot better than me. I don't know why I expected so much and why I feel so terrible. I just felt, more than ever, that this government did not look after the interests of ALL children. Okay, did not look after the interests of MY children. Why did I think they would? How naive of me to think so!

I feel the same way as one would feel after discovering his loved one cheating on him.

So this sounds very drama, but I don't know any other way of putting this, of explaining why I feel so deserted and so angry, so disappointed, so... hurt.

I'm sure I will feel better in time. I already do feel a bit sheepish at sending the PM my rather emotional email! But this sense of loss, sense of 'betrayal', I don't think I would get over it so soon. Terrible as it may sound, this has sort of melted down into a tight, hard, metallic core of bitterness which will not go away so easily.

I think this is pretty much how my mother felt years ago when she went to see the principal of St. Mike's to plead and appeal for my brother. My brother was just abt 5 marks short of entry to SJI, but he was Sports Boy of the Year, he was a prefect, he was school player in football etc. They rejected him and spouted the official line: we cannot take him in because he did not make the grade and no, there can be no exceptions. I think my mother cried in Novena that day. But it was only later on, when she learned that someone else with lower grades than my brother had made it in to SJI - because his family had 'donated' a sum of money to the school. We could never have done that.

But it taught her that all policies lived life through a two-way mirror.

I found that out myself in these recent days.

Today, the 'good' news came - that the govt were advancing the incentives to take immediate effect "due to the appeals of parents".

Back in 2001, when the baby bonus scheme was first implemented in Apr 2001 instead of Jan 2001, parents protested too. I was one of them. I was not as vocal as I am today and I certainly did not write to the PM then. But this was a sore point - why could they not advance it to Jan 1 instead when it was announced during the National Day Rally the year before? But all appeals fell on deaf ears and the children born before 1 April 2001 had nothing. Caitlin was one of them.

Their policies are not well-thought out, grudgingly given, deadlines fixed etc. They seem so focused on the officialese that they forget - these are children, lives that can be affected, impacted by their policies.

How not to be bitter? Angry? Resentful?

It used to be that I would immediately leap and say: I'm migrating! But I won't - I love my chai-tow-kuay too much. I may not think much of this government, and I think they certainly need more heart, more generosity in them, and they need to lose their hard-headed pragmatism a bit. But I will not leave.

I just feel sad, disappointed, let down. And I feel like I have let my children down - they got nothing despite my efforts. I did my best. Others got it - they didn't.

So while most of the mothers out there are celebrating, I am not. I'm just licking my wounds.

Soup!

Owain really loves his soup! Here we are at din tai fung having a late lunch. Steamed chicken soup with noodles and xiao long bao.

Swotting hard!

Its the P6 prelim week and CA week for the rest. Isaac is sitting for his prelim exams over the next three days while Caitlin faces CA for the very first time.

The kids have been working (and playing) hard over the weekend. We were at home most of Sunday, ploughing through exam papers and assessment books. But lest you think I wielded a mean whip, Caitlin and Isaac both had birthday parties to attend on Saturday - so they had a jolly good time! And on Sunday night, no more work - just a trip to Ikea to buy Owain's new bed (yes sob sob - my baby boy is leaving my side for his own bed/space in his gor gor's room! A milestone in our journey together!).

Should have seen how we got the bed home with five kids already filling up all available space in the car. Although the bed was flat-packed, it still posed a challenge to cart home. In the end, the kids stayed where they were while we slid the flat heavy pack over their heads. We rode home like this, sitting beneath the box held up and supported by all our headrests and Trinity's childseat! It was very funny to see - and whenever the car went up or down a slope, all the kids would reach up and grab the box to stablise it firmly so that it does not slide through our windscreen!

So today is the start of CA week and I can expect stress and pressure to build. Not that I am putting pressure on them - I think its a bit late to put any pressure and at this stage, that may be more harmful than good. Better to just let them flake out a bit over the weekend and omit all talk of exams.

In spite of that, this morning, Caitlin called me, voice trembling and teary whispering: "I'm scared mummy. What if I fail?"

Ah, she's laying pressure on herself again. I knew she would. I tried to reassure her - she will be fine and she will do well. First, I said I could see how hard she worked to prepare herself, doing the pile of work I gave with no complaints. I reminded her that I could see that she had her concepts well in place, doing very well in all the assessments I gave. She knew her stuff and I was not afraid for her at all. Besides, I said, look at it this way, a test just tells you what you know and what you don't know. So after the test is over when we know where you find difficulty, we'll work on those. On top of that, this is just a mock test and the marks will not be included in the final score. The test was just to give her a feel of a test environment to prepare her for the coming SA. I think I went on and on but all I could hear are sniffles at the other end.

I didn't think all of that really registered, so to help her, I sent mum over to her place. Mum would do the sayang work that I can't. Note to self: I really should teach her all the visualisation/ relaxation techniques and deep calming breathing.

News on the homefront - my new neighbours just moved in and they have three young kids (who do look quite lonely). The younger two have since made firm friends with my brood. There are many calls of "Luuu-cas! Can I come over to your house now?". So my kids (Owain and Cait in particular) now camp out next door. But the next door kids are forbidden to come over to my side - don't know why. I'd be happy to have them come over, but the parents never let them.

My new neighbour seems to have quite a green thumb too. Although they tore up Uncle Chan's old side garden and matured red palms, and concretised everything, they left two teensy patches of garden in the front and back of the house. These, they filled with lots of shrubs and ferns etc. The front garden seemed to replicate the plants in my garden - gingers, heliconias and birds' nest ferns, the 'snake plant' and another large-leaf plant (don't know the name). They said they took the lead from our garden - haha, not sure if our garden is the best of inspiration!

So all that garden work has inspired me to work on mine! And I am happy to say that I used the compost from the Can-O-Worms on my passion flower plant - and goodness, it is now tall, lush and in full bloom! The flowers, with their spidery purple petals, seem very delicate - they bloom for one or two days and then die. Right now we have at least about 10 to 13 in varying stages of bloom. They do look lovely against the dark green foliage of the leaves and my cream-coloured wall! It must be due to the compost from the worm farm because for months before, when I used traditional chemical fertilisers and hummus, nothing worked.

The success of my passion flower at blooming and climbing up the wall really makes me smile. But on the other hand, I am sad to report that my jasmine has given up the fight and gone to the big garden in the sky. I think I've learned my lesson - not easy to nurture a jasmine plant and they do seem very susceptible to bugs! They need worm tea!! And that can only come when I get my own worm farm!

I do like the compost from the worm farm - looks dark, rich and has a nice woody smell. I saw the Can-O-Worms displayed at the Garden Festival and was really impressed by how it works. I am squeamish about worms but those in the worm farm look so benignly teensy! The worms are really thin and tiny and not at all like the maggoty fat ones I imagined them to be. So the ick factor has diminished quite a bit.

Apart from reducing waste (and saving the earth!) the worm farm produces fantastically rich compost and worm tea! Worm tea is sort of like worm 'pee' - colourless, odourless and yet rich with nutrients, amino acids, vitamins, enzymes etc. It is anti-bacterial, anti-fungal and works as an effective pesticide as well. If I have the worm farm, I won't need harsh chemicals and artificial fertilisers. And nothing like a live worm farm and its output to teach the kids about natural cycles etc! Maybe this might work better for any future jasmines that I intend to grow.

The worms eat lots of stuff - they like bread, fruit, veggie scraps, old teabags, newspapers but not meat, nor herbs like garlic, ginger, onions, chilli etc. The more they eat, the faster they grow, the more they reproduce and the greater the amount of compost! A typical worm farm starts out with about 3000 worms but a matured population can have as many as 20,000 to 50,000 worms!

The tub of Can-O-Worms cost S$200. My name is already on the waitlist but no one has called me back yet! I'm pretty impatient and can't wait to get started! If my new neighbours are nice, I'll even share some of my wormy compost with them!

Choices

So aside from the increase in BP meds, I am now faced with another medical issue that warrants some reflection. I have been to see a specialist in KKH to assess and treat my pelvic prolapse. Three months ago I was asked to try kegels but I don't think it worked very well.

The doctor examined me again and said that kegels really only work to maintain the situation - they don't make it better.

So the cards were laid out quite clearly for me:


The rectocele was at stage 3. The cystocele was at stage 2 and the uterine prolapse at stage 2. My pelvic organs are folding in upon themselves and threatening to collapse in a heap! There are 4 stages of organ prolapse and as you can see, I'm pretty much almost there.


Surgery is the only way to go to correct this. I've known this for a while, but yesterday the doctor threw me another curve. He said, not only surgery but hysterectomy - removal of the womb via the vagina.


It was necessary because the uterus imposes additional weight, and hence, strain on the pelvic floor. Surgery can be done without the hysterectomy, but the results may not be as good and the risk of a relapse happening is greater. So, he said, if I have completed my family, then this is the way to go.


I asked for a reference point - how major is this? Is this like, recovering from an episiotomy? Dumb question. He said no, this was much much more than that and if a hysterectomy is involved then its even more major. I would have to stay in hospital for about 3 days I think.


He says the pelvic floor prolapse could be due to a lot of reasons - and my 5 vaginal births are not necessarily the key cause. He said even women who have had no children encounter a pelvic floor prolapse. So its not just about childbirth. But likely due to the multiple episiotomies, the lack of kegels (guilty as charged!) and possibly, for some women, genetic factors which predispose them to weak pelvic floor tissues.


I asked about the pain factor - he said his overseas patients could walk home the same day but in KKH they prefer to keep patients overnight. Okay, I don't think I want to walk home on the same day. The doctor says that a week after surgery, the women are walking like they never had surgery between their legs. Hah!


The implications are, I would not be able to carry Trin or anything heavy in the long run as this would strain the pelvic floor.


How do I feel?


Well, the only pros to losing my womb is that I will no longer menstruate! No more messy periods - the end of 'the curse'. Yay!


The cons, though, are many. For one, I can no longer have children. Yes, I know for many women they think that five is already enough, or maybe even too many! But I feel very sad at the knowledge that I will no longer be able to bear children. I have had happy pregnancies and enjoyed every single one of them. I have enjoyed my labours and births. My trusty womb has harboured five tiny lives and I will surely miss it.


Women angst over losing their breasts to a mastectomy. Why should the angst be any less for a woman facing a hysterectomy? Breasts can be reconstructed but wombs, once gone, are gone for good. The ability to bear children is a gift and the womb is one of the core symbols of feminity and womanhood. I have been blessed and I treasure this gift so much.



Keeping my womb does not mean that I will just have more children. But now, confronted with the possibility that I can no longer have more, I am thinking hard about this.


The reasons for not having more children are all sound - my kids are all growing up already, Trin will turn 3 and will soon be more independent and I will be free of the early mothering responsibilities like nursing etc. Then there are the health reasons - eg the prolapse (having another baby will definitely worsen the prolapse!), the blood pressure is already unstable and poorly controlled, my kidneys are already leaking protein and any future pregnancy will strain this even more, I am not getting any younger and as KH said this morning, even the last pregnancy was tiring and the BP shot through the roof... He said that he was open to closing our factory for good because the health risks to me were just too many.


But at the same time, I have always been open to the idea of having more, thinking it would be nice to have one little boy and to have the sort of birth I've always wanted. I know, I know... no guarantees that the 6th baby will be a boy. But gut feel can be so strong... just like how it was when I conceived Owain in Australia all those years ago - I knew it would be a boy.


I've read that having a hysterectomy to treat a prolapse may also lead to other conditions such as a vaginal vault prolapse. And having a pelvic floor repair may also lead to other painful conditions too... Honestly, its like between the devil and the deep blue sea! There is also no guarantee that the pelvic floor repair will be totally successful - I've read instances where women report painful sex after that, where they no longer feel orgasms and that recovery is long and extremely painful. And worse, multiple repairs when earlier ones fail.

Awful thought huh?

Well, I will mull it over. KH and I will decide by end Aug.

The doctor isn't happy...

...with my blood pressure. I went for my regular check with the doc at the hospital yesterday. Dr C is not happy that my diastolic pressure remains high. My diastolic readings range from 97 to 105. Systolic is okay at about 120 to 130+.

He generally feels that this shows the BP is not well-controlled. He wanted to up my meds but had difficulty finding one that would meet my requirements - ie breastfeeding-friendly with no side effects (with my current meds, everytime I forget a dose and make up for it, say hours later, I would get a really bad headache. The doc can't explain why but this being the case, he is not to keen to just up the Nifidepine).

And when I tried bargaining for more time, to wait and see before upping the meds, he said: How much longer should we wait? We have already waited for more than 2 years! No doubt there has been some improvement, but this is not good enough!

I said, (a feeble excuse) that it was my weight and suggested I try to cut back. Join a gym, I tried. He said, not unkindly: You've said that before.

Sigh.

Suitably chastised, I decided to shut up. Nothing I can say. My weight speaks for itself, the increase of protein in the urine is worrying and the constant poor diastolic measurements are just making him antsy.

I am tasked to see him in 6 weeks instead of my usual 6 months, with instructions to show him the urine strips that I use. He wondered if the strips were testing for microalbumin (which would make them ultra sensitive to any protein) and wanted to see them. I agreed. But I don't think the strips test for microalbumin. I didn't say so though. I just asked: no urgency right? He nodded a bit distractedly: yes no urgency. But he prescribed me a diuretic anyway, to take with my Nifidepine, just once a day, to try to bring the BP more into control. The diuretic would make me pee more often, but apart from that, no other side effects.

That's precisely what I was afraid of - the slippery slope into meds, meds and more meds. I hate this because there is no end in sight. Its not like you take the meds and then you get better and you don't have to take it anymore.

I will never get better. Any meds that I take is just to keep my condition from getting worse. And from the looks of it, it's not working too well either - hence more meds.

I know the doc is just buying time. He actually wanted to give me an angiotensin but realised that with my history of asthma, the angiotensin was out of the question. Also, it is contraindicated for breastfeeding. He asked me how old the baby was and did not comment when I said the baby was approaching 3. To his credit, he never gave me any of the rubbishy schpiel that other doctors would - about stopping breastfeeding already, etc etc.

So I will 'guai-guai' take my meds like a good girl and try - I stress the word: try - to keep to a good diet and exercise. Like instead of tearing through the huge jar of foie gras that KH's French colleage brought home for me from the foothills of the Pyrenees, I'd just have to keep my scoops modest and pace myself for one foie gras serving in two months... gee that is hard!

Blue

Don't know if this is me or if this is common to everyone, but I get bouts of 'blueness'. I don't know what else to call it.

I could be going about my own business, sitting in a bus or a train, walking or shopping and suddenly I'd just feel extremely sad. The heart feels so still and so heavy and I feel anxious and afraid. It does not last long - maybe only five to 10min.

Is this an anxiety or panic attack? It does not feel like panic but it's just a deep, heavy sadness - almost like despair. But in those moments of sadness, everything seems sharpened. I see the things around me ever so much clearer. Like yesterday, when the blueness came over me in the MRT train and on the walk home. It was rainy and grey and windy. But never have I been so aware of the shifting clouds, the coolness of the drizzle and the sharp black reflections of the leaves in the puddles. Its as if all my senses were sharpened.

I ask myself: what is this feeling? why does it come? there is a tinge of fear so just what am I so afraid of? Is it work? The children? Did I forget something I was supposed to do? What is the root cause?

I have no answers. More like, if I am to be honest, afraid to delve deeper to look at those answers. People go through life seeking answers but where will it end? It never does. And this is why I see no point about delving deeper. I'd just be opening up a hornets' nest.

I wonder if it could be my grandmother's death? Is it grief? I don't think so. Though I know I am more pensive these days and I still feel those queer tightenings in my chest and the tears spring up to the corners of my eyes as a reflex. And yes, market days are hard, knowing that her house stands empty 10 floors above. But no, it's not about her dying.

So I carry on like this - normal on most days. Then unexpectedly, unknowingly, that heavy heart descends on me. Is it just me I wonder.

Mothers all, why can't we be friends?

Here it is again - World Breastfeeding Week. And with it, the usual multiple sessions of synchronised breastfeeding with the aim to break 'records', with the press dutifully reporting on the goodness of breastmilk and breastfeeding mothers etc.

In AP, the spotlight is turned on the politics of breastfeeding. Always very good to discuss this because it creates awareness that breastfeeding is not just about infant nutrition. It is a minefield of political correctness, sensitivity, issues of choice etc. It can, just like debates on abortion and vaccination, turn emotional very quickly as every mother seeks to defend her choices and by extension, her parenting choices and herself as a person.

Inevitably there will be mothers who formula-feed who will step in and say (sometimes politely, sometimes not) that women should be left to their choices and be respected for those and to say that breastfeeding women should not be so strident and impose their views and values on the non-breastfeeding mothers. Look deeper and it is always an issue of guilt that rears its ugly head. Guilt and blame. Formula-feeding mothers defend their choices and 'blame' breastfeeding mothers for stirring up a hornet's nest and failing to be sensitive to "other choices". Or blame the lactivists for "making them feel bad".

I know. I have been there done that remember? Those lines are familiar to me. God knows I've done my share of spouting those. I've been on the other side of the fence too.

But my path has gone down a different route. So here's what I think today:

I agree that women need to be supported in their choices. No one should throw stones at any mother's choice in how she chooses to bring up her children.

Having said that, I believe that guilt is a personal issue and should not be confused with the public agenda where politics, education, big money all swirl around what should have been a very private decision - how a mother chooses to feed her child. The waters are muddy and murky.

I look at it this way:

The playing field in terms of information dissemination and public perception about breastfeeding and formula-feeding is not quite a level one. Many medical professionals are not informed about how to support breastfeeding, many are not trained to spot problems and trouble-shoot appropriately. Many clinics are known to be pillow friends with Big Pharma and the many handouts that Big Pharma lavishes. So getting formula in discharge packs, getting formula samples thrust in one's nose in the clinic etc is par for the course.

So unless a woman is informed enough, determined enough, has enough support, you'd find that more often than not, she is likely to cave.

You can't blame a woman for being confused. There are just so many conflicting messages out there.

One on hand, breastfeeding is believed to be 'natural', so the underlying perception is: what's so difficult about that? But the truth quickly comes out once the baby is born - that the art of breastfeeding has to be taught and learned.

Around her, everyone says: breast is best. But these people do not walk the talk. There is a lack of support from doctors and medical professionals who know pathetically little about breastfeeding and how to trouble-shoot common breastfeeding problems. There is a lack of support from employers who do not believe in giving breastfeeding breaks or provide adequate facilities for a mother to pump milk. There are families who believe that formula is less of a hassle than breastfeeding (never mind the paraphernalia of bottle-feeding, the sterilisation, the expense etc).

The subtle message coming across is more like: okay, breastfeed if you can, but don't ask for help. And the next line comes: Breast is best but if you can't, formula is just as good. Just look at all the formula ads out there that tout DHA, AA and all matter of additives to enhance brain development.

The average woman out there does not know the minefield she is stepping in. She does not know that formula companies come with slick, gi-normous marketing machines that pump out seductive ads that tell half-truths. She does not know that her doctor does not know enough. She does not know that half the time, clinics and their nurses are firm pillow friends with Big Pharma who constantly lavish them with attention and freebies. She goes home with a bag of formula samples given by the hospitals and finds herself with a baby who needs to nurse round the clock, with breasts that alternate between being rock-hard and drippy, she is sleep-deprived and she may or may not be ambushed by 'well-meaning though poorly-informed' confinement nannies and mothers-in law who tell her she has no milk.

What's a woman to do?

If formula companies are appropriately muzzled, medical professionals were trained in lactation issues, and can advise their patients appropriately, if adequate support is given by hospitals (to room-in, LC services readily available etc), if hospitals care enough about breastfeeding to at least seek the BFHI (Baby-Friendly Hospital Initiative), if the government is bold enough to legislate compulsory nursing breaks and facilities, if employers and families see the value in breastfeeding and are willing to support a woman in nursing her baby - then, and only then, will the playing field be level.

For now, it is not good enough to keep spouting platitudes like "breast is best" without walking the talk - ie giving support and information when needed. If the government and the doctors and the medical profession say that breast is best - well, they should be prepared to put their money where their mouth is.

Thats why I say no point with the annual WBW brouhaha, no point in spending limited funds on pins and other marketing thingamajigs. No point with multiple sessions of synchronised nursing etc. All this excitement will disappear in one week, when the newsink has dried and the press look to other sources for stories. And for the rest of the year, all remains quiet on the breastfeeding front. Solid information, sound policies and an extensive support network would be more valuable gifts to nursing women and their babies in the long run.

I hope women, instead of finger-pointing and maligning each other's choices, come together to make a difference. Formula-feeding mothers and breast-feeding mothers should realise their common enemy for who it is - the wishy-washy sales talk and the boldly blatant machinations of formula companies' PR machines.

Because only when the truth is out can women make informed choices - to breastfeed or not, and if they choose to formula-feed, to understand the risks involved and to demand clearer and more accurate information from formula companies without all the smoke and mirrors.

Only then, if a woman still decides to make breastfeeding a 'lifestyle' choice, she should not be stopped or denigrated. She has made an informed choice. And when she makes such a choice, any semblance of guilt will finally disappear from the equation and any hint of a divide between 'good' and 'bad' mothering be laid to rest.