Posted in Homeschooling

Another reason why we started homeschooling goes back to the events surrounding Robert's birth.  It was a typical mismanaged, medical birth, in which I ended up with just about every intervention short of a c/section.  I didn't want pain medication - I knew I could do it without it, but I didn't count on the hospital making me lay on my back in bed, or that they would come into my room frequently and say, "Are you sure you don't want something?"  Eventually I gave in and agreed to an epidural.

Shortly after his birth at 1:52 AM Monday, they took him to the nursery and me to another room, where I slept off the epidural.  At some point, nurses came in and made me get up and go to the bathroom - they literally had to drag me in there, and I rewarded them by throwing up on them and fainting.  For years I thought this was a reaction to childbirth, and it was only later that I realized it was from the epidural and other medications.

The next time I remember seeing Robert was during the night, so it had been nearly 24 hours since his birth.  They brought him to me to nurse him.  After trying a bit, and realizing that I had no idea how to actually do it, I called a nurse.  All she did was give me a nipple shield, which I found out later should not be used.

We went home on Wednesday, with them warning me that he looked like he was suffering from jaundice and I needed to bring him back for a test the next day.  The next day it was worse, and they told me to bring him back again on Friday for another test.  They called Friday evening and said that his levels were low enough that he needed to come back and be admitted for treatment under the lights.  I stayed with him in the hospital, but was not allowed to nurse (not that this was going all that well anyway) or hold him because he was in the isolette under the light.

At the hospital Saturday night, I began to feel really sick.  A nurse came in to check on Robert 3 times before I managed to tell her that I didn't feel well.  She suggested I walk down to the ER, and I said, "I don't think I can."  She went and got me a wheelchair and someone took me to the ER.  By that time, I was so sick I could barely talk.  My fever was very high, I believe I threw up again, and I had no idea what was wrong. 

What actually happened went back to the day I went into labor.  I had thought I might be in labor and went to the hospital to be checked.  They told me I was not actually in labor yet, but that I had an infection.  They gave me a prescription to fill and I left.  However, I continued having contractions and did go into labor that day.  The prescription never got filled, and they never followed up when I went back into the hospital to have the baby. My doctor actually told me later that if I hadn't been in the hospital when the infection hit, I could have died from it.

So in the wee hours of the morning that Sunday, I was readmitted to the hospital for the uterine infection and a few hours later, Robert was released.  They would not put me in the maternity ward so I could have Robert with me.  I remember holding him and being wheeled to the front door so I could say goodbye.  My heart was breaking.

I did not see him again until Wednesday night, and then when I was released on Saturday.  My baby was nearly two weeks old, and for half that time, we had been apart.  While I was in the hospital, a nurse had wanted to change my sheets but I wouldn't get up.  She finished everybody else, and then came back to me, but I still wouldn't get up.  So she and another nurse physically lifted me and put me in a chair.  She told me while changing the bed, "I know what's the matter with you.  You have the baby blues"  in a very nasty tone.  I replied, "Only because he's not with me!  If he were with me, I'd be fine!"

Since I was ostensibly a nursing mother, they had brought me an electric pump, but no one showed me how to use it and I couldn't get it to work.  I settled for manual expression, but with no privacy in the hospital, that was extremely difficult.  The Sunday after I left the hospital, I sat with Robert for an hour trying to get him to nurse.  At this point, he was just about two weeks old, and had been having bottles the entire time practically.  I still had no clear idea exactly what nursing looked like and no one to help me, so I gave up.  I couldn't bear to listen to him cry.

What does this have to do with homeschooling?  Well, as I learned more about birth and nursing, I realized that all of our problems came from institutional interference and bad advice.  If I, as a first-time mother, had received my care in a place that supported natural birth and breastfeeding, most of this wouldn't have happened.  If I had had continuity of care, the infection wouldn't have been overlooked.  If nursing had been supported, Robert wouldn't have developed jaundice and they would have known that breastfeeding can and should continue during treatment.

And when my son started school, I felt it happening all over again.  Again an institution was interfering in my relationship with my son, telling me when I could and could not see him, what I could and could not do with him, separating us from each other.

I am glad that we began homeschooling and spending our days together.  Just last night, we were laughing about how we finish each other's sentences.  And now that he is 18 and about to start college, I am ready to let him go.  I got to have him for all these years, and he is such a wonderful young man that I know he will do well in the world.  It is not an institution telling us that now he needs to leave and go to college, it is clear that this is the next step in his life.