I have always enjoyed your newsletter and have been subscribed through 2 of my 4 pregnancies, and have been enjoying both sets of milestone newsletters (one for my toddler who is 2 next month, and 1 for my infant who is 4 months old). Over the years, there have been articles here and . . . → Read More: An open letter to BabyCenter]]> Dear BabyCenter,

I have always enjoyed your newsletter and have been subscribed through 2 of my 4 pregnancies, and have been enjoying both sets of milestone newsletters (one for my toddler who is 2 next month, and 1 for my infant who is 4 months old). Over the years, there have been articles here and there that I may not have agreed with, but I realize that not everything is for everyone, and simply moved on. Today, however, I was disappointed and offended. I will be unsubscribing from your newsletters, and I need to be sure that you know why that is.

I am proud to say that I exclusively breastfeed my 4 month old, and plan on doing so for -at the very least- 6 months; but a year and beyond is my goal. I feel that successfully breastfeeding a healthy baby is one of my greatest accomplishments as a mom, and I only regret not being able to give my older children the same start. 13 years ago, when my first son was born, I had zero support, zero knowledge and zero encouragement – needless to say, I did not succeed at breastfeeding him past 1 week (I now know that what I had was mastitis and that I should have continued to nurse him, but was told at the time that I continuing to nurse was doing him ‘no good’). The same thing happened 8 years ago when my daughter was born – no support, no positive models to look towards, no knowledge regarding breastfeeding. 2 years ago, I ended yet another breastfeeding relationship feeling like I was just not equipped with ‘what it takes’ to breastfeed.

When I found out that I was pregnant with my 4 month old, I decided to take every measure to succeed at breastfeeding him. I educated myself, surrounded myself with support, read every article and book I could find. I threw out samples of formula and trashed Similac and Enfamil coupons so I wouldn’t be tempted when it got difficult. When I was told that he was not gaining enough weight back quick enough and appearing jaundiced, I supplemented for 2 weeks, but pumped and nursed and pumped some more to keep my supply up – so I was able to eliminate the need for formula and continue to breastfeed. At 4 months old, he is at the 75% percentile on the growth charts and is as healthy as can be. I am just now beginning to realize that we have “a successful breastfeeding relationship”. For the first time in my life, I am proud of my body and what it can do. I set my mind and my heart on doing something and it worked! Every single day I am able to look at this baby and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am doing right by him. I get to look at this baby every day and *know* I am doing the right thing. As the mother of 4 children (as well as a step-mother of 2), I can tell you that knowing for certain you are doing the right thing is a luxury not often afforded.

I tell you all of this because I need you to understand what I felt like this morning when I opened your newsletter and read that it is time for me to transition my 4 month old to formula, along with tips of how to get him used to taking a bottle and what to do if he refuses it (waiting until he is ‘really hungry’ or leaving the house so I don’t get temped to nurse him when he gets upset??).

Why would you encourage me to do that? Why, if my baby is 4 months old and successfully taking breast milk, should I transition him to artificial breast milk? Why would you tell me to “Provide as much affection and physical attention when you give the bottle as you would when breastfeeding” but not actually breastfeed? The Wold Health Organization recommends breastfeeding every baby for at least 6 months, and encourages continuing up though 2 years. Why would BabyCenter recommend something completely different?

Isn’t that irresponsible? I mean really – how many moms subscribe to the WHO’s newsletter? If I didn’t know any better, I might have just went with your recommendation to wean my baby at 4 months from real breastmilk to artificial breastmilk. What if I didn’t know enough to recognize that one of the resources I had specifically chosen to support me in being a good mother had just completely bypassed any concern for the health and well being of my infant and recommend something not recommended by the World Health Organization and the American Association of Pediatrics?

Thank you for helping me make another responsible move as a good mom: please unsubscribe me from your newsletters and cancel my membership to your website and all of your web services.

The results came back on Monday and SURPRISE! The ultrasound tech never even looked at or clicked a picture of anything on the left side.

They said the concern in the right side was a 5mm nodule in a lymph node with non-cancerous characteristics and . . . → Read More: Because everything is about my boobs now.]]> *This post it brought to you by BORING BOOB UPDATE!

The results came back on Monday and SURPRISE! The ultrasound tech never even looked at or clicked a picture of anything on the left side.

They said the concern in the right side was a 5mm nodule in a lymph node with non-cancerous characteristics and ‘nothing to be concerned about’ unless it changes. I’m not sure what that means – I have would have no way of knowing if it changes since I never knew it was there to begin with..

Tomorrow morning at 9:30, I’ll start the whole thing over again at a different facility so as not to run into the same pleasant ultrasound tech as last time.. and my boobs have never been happier. No really.

Me, patiently waiting for my mammogram.

Because I found a lump in my left breast: the left one.

The first thing I learned was that although they schedule you for an ultrasound, you aren’t getting one unless something is wrong.

“I have an appointment at 10 for . . . → Read More: Whatever comes next.]]> So, I went and had a mammogram:

Me, patiently waiting for my mammogram.

Because I found a lump in my left breast: the left one.

The first thing I learned was that although they schedule you for an ultrasound, you aren’t getting one unless something is wrong.

“I have an appointment at 10 for a bilateral mammogram and an ultrasound.”

“Ok – I please fill this out. So you know, they will most likely only perform the mammogram; we only schedule you for an ultrasound if we see something concerning. We just make sure you have enough time allotted in case something is wrong”.

**Note to front desk girl: please refrain from using “in case something is wrong” when speaking with women checking in for their mammogram.**

The squish-your-boobs-machine wasn’t horrible. I prayed a lot. I thought about how much worse being engorged with gallons a milk felt. I thanked God for having a very nice tech who obviously knows how intimidating the squish-your-boobs-machine can be. I babbled. I told her all about how J.D. took me to a prom and got me a tattoo for my 30th birthday because I didn’t want to feel old. I bit my cheek to shut myself up.

Eventually, the tech left the room, came back, left the room again, and came back.

“We are going to try again to get that lump in another picture, and the radiologist just wants a few more shots of that right side.”

“Left. It’s on the left. The lump is right here – on the left side.”

“No, the right. He just wants some shots of the right.”

“oh. ok.”

So I did as I was told, discovered something called ‘the cleavage hold’ that would have been a really popular bar trick back in the day, and posed for a few more shots of boob #2.

I could have worn tube socks home.

“Just go ahead and stay right here – I’ll either come back in to take more pictures or I’ll come back in to take you to an ultrasound. He’ll more than likely ask for the ultrasound – its very difficult to get that lump in a picture, and he’ll want to take a closer look at that right side.”

“lef.. ultrasound?”

“Hm?”

“nothing.” (something is wrong, then, right? That’s what he girl said, right?)

So she left and came back and said “yes, we’re going to go ahead and take you over to ultrasound. How do you feel about sitting in a waiting room with men while you’re wearing the gown? Do you want a more private place to wait?”

“No. Hey, so, is this the part where you tell me not to jump to conclusions or worry?”

And then she did the honest smile. The one that you carefully practice that specifically means nothing, so that later, if something is wrong, the person on the receiving end doesn’t feel like you lied to them.

I sat in the waiting room listening to a woman talk to another woman about her bone scan, and a man talk to his kids on his cell phone. “We’ll be home as fast as we can – me and mom are taking care of something and then we’ll go out and have junk food”. The tech came and moved me to the ultrasound waiting room where I listened to a nurse talk about her daughters’ birthday party and watched Dora The Explorer on the the T.V.

Ultrasound tech: HI ARE YOU SHERRI? HOWAREYOU I’LL BE DOING YOUR ULTRASOUNDFOLLOWME.

I already didn’t like her.

“So you have one lump on your left that you can feel and an area on the right, right? We’ll be just looking at the right side. An area is all. Ok? Uh HUH! OK.”

She spent a few seconds looking for the lump with the wand and said “you’ll have to point to it”.

“It’s right h-”

“Just point to it with one finger”.

*point*

*pokes me with the wand* “ok!” and moves on the the ‘area’ on the right, where she spent a good 10 minutes with her wand and a ruler – clicking her mouse and typing and clicking. “OK! Stay here and I’ll be back!” and she was gone.

She came back, stared at her paperwork, signed something, and said “He wants me to tell you that we don’t see anything suspicious were you think you found a lump, and you need to follow up with your doctor.” and hands me a check out paper.

“But so what is it then? That’s normal? And what’s on the right? What now? What happens next?”

“He wants me to tell you that we don’t see anything suspicious were you think you found a lump. And that you need to follow up with your doctor.”

“Where I *think* I feel a lump? But you feel it, right? It’s there. I feel it and my husband feels it and my mom and the other lady- she felt it. I don’t have a doctor. What do I do next? What’s on the right side?”

“Sometimes your breast tissue changes and you think you feel something. You’ll need to follow up with your doctor.”

“That’s not regular breast tissue. Where you able to see anything on the ultrasound?”

“He wants me to tell you that we don’t see anything suspicious were you think you found a lump. And you need to follow up with your doctor.”

“I DON’T HAVE A FUCKING DOCTOR.”

So that’s that. Needless to say, I was a bit frazzled and slightly homicidal when I left there – but I feel better because I tracked down the ‘what to do next’ portion..

Tomorrow, Sarah from the Cancer Center will call me and we will go over what the notes in the system say together- and do whatever comes next. If it means going in for another ultrasound and having someone actually look at the left side, I’ll do that. If it means a biopsy, I’ll do that. If it means [fill in the blank] on the right side, I’ll do that. So ‘whatever comes next’ is the plan.

Ridiculously, if I did have insurance (and a doctor) this part would take 2 weeks – as it is, I only had to wait out the weekend.

P.S. Have you squeezed your boobies today?