Pirose Nursing Cover: A Review

If you would have asked me in high school . . . in college . . . even my first year of marriage . . . or my third year of marriage . . . if I would one day resemble a cow . . .

A lactating cow . . .

I would have mocked you. 

I would have gotten squeamish on you.  I quite possibly might have fainted on you.

The idea of a child nursing.  Of a baby eating from a mom’s . . .

Due to my immaturity and (really) lack of understanding that “breast is best” (There.  I said it.  I said the “b” word.) I simply could not imagine enjoying this intense relationship that a baby has with his/her mommy. 

Now, I can’t imagine any other way -- four babies later. 

Nobody tells you that this nurturing relationship is difficult to learn, though.  Perhaps there are some Eve’s out there who were able to nurse without help . . . without instruction . . . without reading oh maybe 4 books on the subject. 

I was not an Eve.  I say Eve because Eve was the first gal to feed her baby. 

Asher was my hardest child to nurse.  Little did I know that the poor guy needed to receive craniosacral therapy to release the tension in his jaw and to move down some plates in his head. 

Oh, mom and baby were miserable.   We have horrid pictures.  

The Hottie might have been more miserable.  He had to deal with two crying, sleep deprived individuals.  It was rough.

Four mastitis infections, two rounds of thrush, and countless blebs later . . . we had a happy nursing relationship that lasted until he was 13 months old when I became pregnant with Ezra.  (Asher actually knew I was pregnant before I did! He quit nursing!)

As much as I wanted to give up on this supposedly magical gift a mom bestows to her child, I whipped out the lactose machine though the pain.  In order to get well, I had to keep nursing . . . in public and at home.

I hated the public part.  And I still do. 

But I do it. 

Needless to say, I was pretty excited to try out the Reno Rose Pirose Nursing Cover.  I figured it was the closest to nursing in public while looking like a full-figured nursing model.

You see, having a daughter has made me want to be slightly more fashionable.  Though I have yet to even come close to achieving what is currently in fashion, I thought this Nursing Cover just might take me in the right direction. 

And it could have . . . I just didn’t like the fabric pattern that I was sent (I know . . . ungrateful). 

I . . .um  . . . don’t do leaves well.  I like funky patterns.  Like this one (though she looks rather dramatic):

or this one:

As far as being a useful tool for a mother.  Yes.  It appears to do everything my slings can do, BUT hold a baby.  Not to mention it looks fashionable.  And pretty . . . not matronly. 

It doesn’t scream, “I’m a lactating mom.  Watch out.  I might spray you.”  (Sorry, just a little humor for those women who have, what shall I say, an overabundant milk supply.  A forceful geyser-like milk supply.)

You can wear this accessory some 12 different ways!

If you don’t have a sling, then I would recommend the Pirose Nursing Cover ($35).  Give it as a gift to the fasnionalbe pregnant lady in your life . . . who is squeamish about lactating.  (I just love that word!)

By the way . . . please read how Pirose was birthed into production.  It is a pretty neat story. 

This is a Mama Buzz review. The product was provided by Reno Rose for this review.

Tropical Traditions -- Arnica Massage Oil Giveaway

Before Mr. Smackdown was born, the concept of nursing (OK breastfeeding) was foreign to me. I can't remember what I really thought about being a lactating mammal. I hadn't ever been one or been around many. I had benefited from a lactating cow and was grateful for her milk ducts, though.


But because I had chosen and trained (yes, trained) to deliver my first child naturally, breastfeeding seemed like the next natural choice to make in my mothering career. If I had gone through labor and delivery the way Eve did, why not provide food in a similar fashion as my distant relative.

I wish I could have trained and prepared for nursing like a runner does for a marathon. The classroom doesn't begin in this course until your baby is born. It was one of the hardest classes I have EVER taken.

Mr. Smackdown and I learned about various and unusual nursing positions, mastitis, thrush, and cranial sacral therapy. Our lactation relationship drove me to visit what is called a Breastfeeding Support Group.

If you had told me back in high school that one day I would go sit in a room with a bunch of other lactating women allowing a child to suckle on their breasts, I probably would have punched you. I soooooo resisted going to this group. It seemed weird to me.

But I was desperate.

Much like I resisted turning the air conditioning on during the hot summer months of Mr. Smackdown's pregnancy (out of stubbornness and irritation at people's comments regarding summer pregnancies), there was no way I was going flunk my breastfeeding course for all to witness.

So, the Hottie Hubby drove me to this class. We soon discovered that he couldn't go in the room. In fact, it wasn't even advisable for him to walk by the door of this milking room.

To make a long story short, I fell in love with attending this support group every week. I found support, camaraderie, community, and learned about more things than just how to properly serve a meal to my infant.

The first six months of Mr. Smackdown's life were difficult for me. I suffered from postpartum depression and hypothyroidism, in addition to the nursing related infections previously described. But there was one bright spot that I distinctly associate with facilitating that bonding experience with my infant that breastfeeding wasn't initially providing.

Enter . . . Infant massage.

One week, a gal came to our breastfeeding support group and taught us how to give our babies a massage. The 20 minutes that I stayed after "class" have resulted a bonding experience that is still employed on a fairly regular basis to this day, except more massage oil is required and the parts are bigger!

Benefits of infant massage include (and this comes from MY memory, not Tropical Traditions):

• your child feels loved and is comforted by your touch
• massage promotes proper growth
• helps with healthy development of infants
• stimulates the nerves
• increases blood flow
• strengthens the immune system
• can relieve colic and constipation
• massage can help with nursing by relaxing the child's jaw

My friend, Monica, a children's physical therapist, further supported my learning by giving me an amazing book on infant massage that I highly recommend for any new mom.


So, when Tropical Traditions allowed me to review another one of their GREAT products, I chose the massage oil because I wanted to pass on another Granola Mom tradition on to you!

Tropical Traditions offers 4 different massage oils: lavender, mint, unscented and Arnica.



I initially wanted to sample the lavender oil . . . but being the only gal in the house (Mussie doesn't count), I figured that this would be selfish.

Considering that the Hottie Hubby is going to become a bicycle commuter (19 miles twice a day) and he has been significantly slighted in the massage area due to all of the "infant massages" occurring in our household, I decided it was time to obtain a product that would benefit my hard-working and athletic husband.

Arnica is an herb that externally is used for joint pain, bruises, arthritis (such as Hottie Hubby has), and sprains, etc. I learned about arnica when my midwife gave it to me after I had given birth to Mr. Smiley. I fell in love, not really, with this medicinal herb that God grew naturally in a field somewhere. According to The Complete Medicinal Herbal by Penelope Ody, arnica promotes "healing and has an antibacterial action; causes reabsorption of internal bleeding in bruises and sprains" (p. 130). I reasoned that this would be the perfect massage oil for the Hottie Hubby after a long bike ride or hard workout.

Short and simple. We like it. The kids like it, too. Sorry, I don't have any pictures to share with you. A camera and a flash don't add to a relaxing ambiance. After a little bribery this past weekend, I got to try out the Tropical Traditions Arnica Massage Oil and I think that I can tell a difference--my muscles felt soothed by more than just the massage during a STRESSFUL movie. I enjoyed the scent--it reminds me of one of my favorite essential oils, patchouli.

Would you like to try it out? Well, you can! Anyone can enter to win but you have to leave a comment here on my blog--click the link Facebook readers!

Win a Tropical Traditions 8 oz bottle of Arnica Massage Oil!

RULES

Please, please, please . . .do not put more than one entry per comment. I will be using www.random.org to pick the winners. So if you would like for your comments to count, leave individual comments.

All options are worth 1 entry, unless otherwise stated.

1. (Mandatory) Click on the link and subscribe to the Tropical Traditions Newsletter.
2. Tell me what essential oils are used in the Arnica Massage Oil.
   
3. Tweet about this giveaway, making sure to include @GranolaMom4God and leave a comment back at the blog.
4. Follow @Troptraditions on Twitter.
   
5. Become one of my fans through Google Connect if you aren't already!
6. Give yourself an extra entry if you have ever given your baby a massage. (Honor system!)
   
7. Put my blog, http://www.granolamom4god.com, on your blog roll in a continuously visible location, not just a blog post.
   
8. Grab my Granola Mom 4 God button and place it on your blog for all to see!
9. Participate in 30 Days of Thanks with Connie and grab my Thankful Button on the left! Leave a link to your blog post or include me (thegranolamom4god@gmail.com) in an email you send out to a few friends or post on Facebook.
   
10. Buy something from Tropical Traditions. When they ask you how you heard about Tropical Traditions, list my sponsor id (5498794). I won't make any money off of this . . . but I will get a coupon for other Tropical Traditions products.) This is worth 10 entries so leave 10 comments!
    

Remember, only #1 is mandatory. The rest of the entries are optional, but you MUST comment separately for each one.

The Fine Print: I will email you when you have won. I must have your email address to alert you to your prize. You can include that in your comment or email me separately at thegranolamom4god@gmail.com. You must respond within 24 hours.

Contest ends 11/23/09 at Midnight


Author's Note: I was given this product to review from Tropical Traditions, and I do not have to return the product to the vendor (that would have been kind of hard). I was not paid for this post. All opinions expressed in this post are mine unless otherwise noted.

Lactation Needs Hydration

I'm a little miffed with myself. It started with the fact that on the Tuesday night before Mother's Day I realized that my day to shine and to honor both my mother and mother-in-law was this weekend (today, in fact). I thought it was over two weeks away for some bizarre reason. The Hot Husband and I created an intricately scheduled day to honor both of our moms. (The Hot Husband also worked on ways to honor me, too). We finally devised a plan and put it into action.

But I messed it up. You see, when you lactate, or nurse, you have to drink water. And the amount you drink the day before affects the following day. You would think that after the third child I would make sure to drink water. Well, I was pretty busy yesterday and didn't drink enough water. I woke up this morning with a screaming headache, nausea, and some other issues that really don't need to be discussed.

The table was set, the casserole in the oven, everything looked beautiful. I opened the door to my parents ashen and fresh out of the shower--totally not ready to celebrate but to pass out. I was in bed for the entire celebration. I missed church, too. I missed the Mom carnation that we get every year. I never knew how much I enjoyed getting my flower at church.

So to all of you lactating moms, here is a word of advise to you on Mother's Day, my gift to you: Stay hydrated.

Afterthought: Here is a picture of the boys after returning from church. Mr. Easy made me an apron in Sunday School (bless his teacher) and Mr. Smackdown handed me my annual carnation.