Red Nails

I sat in the chair as my grandmother lay dying across the room. Dark. Silent. What caused the tears to fill my eyes and the lump to catch in my throat, more than anything else, were her manicured, freshly polished but already starting to chip, red nails.

My eyes glued, I stared as words like "hospice", "palliative care", and "morphine" floated around me in the room. I was young and this was long before those words came to hold professional meaning to me. My chin in my palms and elbow on knees I remembered watching those hands with the red nails knit scarves and fold bread dough. Now they lay motionless and turning blue at the fingertips. I made my eyes burn into them, knowing I would never see those nails in action again.... and soon wouldn't see them at all. I memorized every vein, every wrinkle. It was like staring at a life that was so close... so real, but also far and slipping away.

I've thought about those nails so many times over the years. In a quirky way, to me, red nails have now come to symbolize her life; the strength, the feminine beauty, the traditionalism, and the feisty sass. Sometimes I paint my own nails bright crimson and wear her ring on my finger. On those days I stare at my hands all day. Remembering...... her.... and the fragility of life.

It's a red nail day.

All This Time The Answer Was In My Boobs

It hit me, like that unexpected baseball launched from my toddler while I was looking for my sunglasses, although it wasn't as painful.

I never would have thought my life's work would involve breasts. I mean, when I was a kid and examined all the career opportunities that lay out before me, nipples never factored into my equation (maybe that's why I kept missing it). Some kids know what they want to be, forever, at the age of four. I'm 32, and I think I just now figured it out.

That must be how it is for Lactation Consultants. No child says, "I want to be a breastfeeding advocate when I grow up"......I guess they say, "I want to be a nurse" and that's what I am, (although at four, and even 24, I would have turned my nose up at the idea that it was my "calling"). I became a nurse because, honestly, I didn't know what else to do.

I always knew I would breastfeed. My mother had, and from a very young age I dreamt of becoming a mother myself. I treasured my dolls back then almost as much as I treasure my real live babies now. How I would feed my infants was not something I really gave a lot of thought. It was just sort of a given that breastfeeding was how it was done.

When I became pregnant with my first child I bought all the "expecting" books. It was then that I learned that breastfeeding was not always simple. I worried. What if I couldn't do it? I took a breastfeeding class at the hospital a read a few "How to" breastfeeding books, and the inspiring memoir, "How My Breasts Saved The World" by Lisa Wood Shapiro.

As Murphy's law would have it, breastfeeding was NOT easy for me. Those first weeks there was a lot of crying, a lot of hopelessness, and a lot of visits and discussions with a lactation consultant. Although we struggled, in the end, Weston and I, we were champs at breastfeeding. When Liam's time came we had a rocky start as well. "Every child is different" the Lactation Consultant told me, and "If you want to be successful with this, you will." She was right, and when we finally got it, I sat teary eyed in her office, "Thank you!" I praised.
"It was all you...and him", she responded.

The most important things the lactation consultant gave me were peace and self confidence. Those are really the two most important factors in successful breastfeeding, I think. I feel like breastfeeding my children has truly been a gift that has enriched our lives. I know she would disagree with this next part, but, I don't believe that gift would have been possible without her (LC) help.

I want to share the gift with others, so this fall I'm taking steps to reach my ultimate goal. I'm taking classes to become a Certified Lactation Consultant. After the class it will be a long process of clinical contact hours and studying for the exam. It will feel so good to work toward something I am so passionate about.

Breastfeeding encompasses so many of my beliefs. You've heard me talk about my Cave Man Theory (click here) and it's also economical, and "green", and healthy, and an integral part of attachment parenting. Breastfeeding is also powerful as a body image improvement tool (value placed on what your body can do, not just what it looks like) and it is cross-cultural.

When I finally reach my goal, I will LOVE my job for so many complex reasons. Deciding what to do with my professional life has taken me a long time, but I think it will have been worth the wait. I needed all that time to figure it out. I'm very excited, "Certified Lactation Consultant" sounds much better, after all, than "Breastfeeding Freak!" (An occupation I've already whole-heartedly mastered.)

Inside the Gate

My Dad put it well when he said, "I'm morally opposed to gated communities....that is, until I'm standing on the inside of the gate."


This simple but profound statement spilled across his lips between slurps of ice cream yesterday as we sat on the porch of the general store in our private little paradise here at "Sunset Island" in Ocean City, Maryland.

I can't stop thinking about it. I get it in a literal sense, but there are also so many other implications to things like the "in" crowd or to taking one side or another on a controversial issue. Or what about in the context of a judgement, looking down upon a certain group of people until, that is, you find yourself standing in their place?

Once in a while a group of words strings together and has so many meanings, it seems infinite. I love that sort of thing. I only wish it could be me that could find a way to author sentences like that more often.

My Dad, he's on the inside of the gated community of published authors. Me, I'm on the outside. Sometimes I feel a bit jealous as I peer through the slats and catch a glimpse of those frolicking on the inside. I feel a moral opposition. I want to crash down and storm the gate, but I have to bide my time and wait for the door to open because we all know trying to force your way into a gated community only gets you locked out....forever.