I have tattoos. And I love them. Each one has a very special meaning and they have become a part of who I am. And of course I have a few more on my “want” list. But do I have to wait until I’m done nursing to get more?
The AAP, ACOG, AAFP, and ACNM have taken no stance on the compatibility of tattoos and breastfeeding. However, The Breastfeeding Atlas (Wilson-Clay & Hoover, 2002) and Breastfeeding: An Illustrated Guide to Diagnosis and Treatment (Both, 2008) both state that already present tattoos, on the breast or elsewhere, do not impact breastfeeding. The possibility of the ink migrating into the mother’s blood plasma and then into the milk-making cells of the breast is insignificant. But it is possible to have allergic reactions to the tattoo ink.
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So, can I get that tattoo?
There is no evidence that getting a tattoo will affect breastfeeding. There should be no harm to mom or baby from the dyes injected. The ink that is used in tattoos in the United States is subject to FDA regulation as cosmetics, but none are approved for injection under the skin. However, the ink molecules are too large to pass into breast milk. The biggest concern for anyone (not just nursing moms) is infection (hepatitis or HIV)– so make sure the place you go has good references and is clean. It is very important to screen the tattooist and the shop carefully, checking with the local health department for local laws and regulations. Professional tattooists will follow universal precautions such as sterilization of the tattoo machine using an autoclave, single-use inks, ink cups, gloves and needles, bagging of equipment to avoid cross contamination, and thorough hand washing with disinfectant soap.
Most tattooists will not knowingly tattoo a pregnant or breastfeeding mother. It is suggested that mothers wait at least until the child’s first birthday to give their bodies a chance to recover completely from childbirth before getting a tattoo. The body needs time to heal the tattoo and it is harder to do when the body is producing milk. Deciding to get a tattoo is a very personal decision and a mother has to weigh the pros and cons and decide what is best for her and her baby.
This post was written as part of the weekly Breastfeeding Blog Hop, hosted by Slacker Mom, The Gnome’s Mom, and ME! Want to join in? Read the rules here and link up below!
Scott and I have a lot of work to do. We have both made mistakes. We both contributed to our separation. It wasn’t fully his fault and it wasn’t fully mine. It takes two to make a marriage work and it takes two to make a marriage fail. For a long time, I had trouble seeing my part in my marriages’ struggles. But as I began my cognitive behavioral therapy I realized that my anxiety played a huge part in our struggling marriage.
Anxiety is very hard to understand unless you have experienced it yourself. And as much as Scott wants to and tries to understand it, he never will understand it as well as I do myself. It has always been hard for me to talk to Scott about my anxiety. I’m scared that he sees it as a weakness and will cause him to think of me not the strong, independent military wife he needs. It’s much easier for me to confide in my mother about my anxiety struggles. And I know that is because she has struggled with anxiety herself. But this became a problem when I started to confide in my mother more than my husband. It started to build a distance between Scott and I. And our communication only took a downhill slide from there. I am starting to work on opening up to Scott more about my anxiety. I am trying to making a conscious effort to improve our communication.
Anxiety has essentially prevented me from being the kind of military wife that Scott needs me to be. My anxiety makes me reliant on others, specifically people I trust. One of the reasons I moved home during deployment was because I didn’t want to be alone. I have a constant fear that I won’t be able to handle my anxiety on my own. Anxiety and panic attacks are very uncomfortable. They make your body feel horrible. And I often need someone to help talk me down. My mom is great at this. She helps me move past the panic and return to a “normal” state. This prevents me from being the independent military wife that moves all over the country with her husband and takes control of the household in her husband’s absence. I want to be that kind of woman for my husband. But my anxiety drives me away from those anxiety inducing situations to places of comfort and support.
With the therapy, I am slowly learning that I am my own safe place. That I am completely capable of dealing with my anxiety.
These aren’t the only two problems in our marriage and dealing with my anxiety won’t solve all of our problems. But it is one step in the right direction.
I was recently told by someone that my blog is deceiving. That I was misrepresenting what was really going on. They didn’t understand how I could be so happy. Let me tell you, I will be the first to admit that my life isn’t perfect. I’m not perfect. There are circumstances and situations in my life that discourage me and get me down.
But I try to not focus on the negative. Because there are so many other things to be thankful for. My circumstances and situations don’t define me. The world all to often defines happiness by situations…by how much money is in the bank account, by how much “stuff” they have, by how often they get promoted at work, by how many friends they have. But there is much more than the surface happiness. There is a deep inner happiness that comes from my faith in Christ. This gives me strength to give thanks in all circumstances.
And it is my desire that why you read my blog you will see a different kind of happiness. That you will see happiness redefined.
Yesterday in church, the sermon was about the important of confessing our sins to others. There is that fear of what people will think of you and ultimately if they will still love you. The sermon, along with a conversation with my husband, got me thinking how hard it is to also share our downfalls, our faults, our weaknesses. Sharing makes us vulnerable and that is a scary place. But I believe that sharing can also help not only us heal but help others heal. And in an attempt to overcome and heal, I have something I want to share.
I struggle with an anxiety/panic disorder. I’ve touched on this before, but never in detail. Because it makes me vulnerable. And I’m sure there will be some people who read this and think it’s not a big deal. But it is a big deal. It has impacted almost every area of my life and impaired many other areas. I’m sure there will be some people who read this and think I should just get over it. But to a person with an anxiety/panic disorder that’s like telling someone with cancer to just get over it. It’s just not possible. But I’m also hoping that there will be some people that will read this and feel comforted that someone else is sharing in their struggles…that it will be exactly what they need to hear.
My senior year in high school was the first time I remember having a name for what I was feeling. As I learned more about anxiety and panic I realized that it was something I had struggled with my entire life. I’ve had lots of ups and downs. Times when I feel like I’m in control of my anxiety and times when I feel like my anxiety is in control of me. Anxiety is uncomfortable. And it’s much easier for me to run from it, to hide from it, to pretend like the feelings don’t exist and that everything is just perfect. But that get’s me no where. In order to conquer my anxiety, I have have to face it head on. And that’s scary.
About two weeks ago, I committed to cognitive behavioral therapy. I’m doing it for my kids, for my marriage, for my family, and most importantly for me. The basic idea of cognitive therapy is that the way we think influences the way we feel, and therefore changing how we think can change how we feel. Cognitive therapy is a brief, highly structured talk therapy that focuses on everyday experiences to teach individuals how to change their emotional thinking and beliefs through systematic evaluation and behavioral action plans- with the aim of reducing distressing conditions like anxiety. Will it be easy? No. Will it be worth it? Most definitely.
I’m hoping to share my journey here on my blog. It won’t be easy because it leaves a deep part of me raw and exposed. But I hope that others will find support and healing in their journey through me sharing my story.
This week I had to take Em to the hospital to have a chest x-ray done (long story short…she has bilateral pneumonia and bronchitis, my poor girl!). After completing the registration, I was handed a sheet to take down to diagnostic imaging. As I was riding the elevator down, I was reading over the sheet.
Patient name: Emmersyn G. Mumma
Date of birth: 2/11/12
Legal Guardian: Marah M. Mumma
Relation: mother
Occupation: Unemployed.
One word stalled my reading. It was as if the word was popping off the page in big bold letters.
Really? I’m not sure how “I’m a stay at home mom” was translated into unemployed. Do you have any idea what I do all day long?
I’m an administrative assistant. I run errands, answer the phone, pay the bills, fill out paperwork, organize and schedule our day to day happenings. I’m a chef. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Kolt has to eat. And so do I! I’m grumpy when I’m hungry. I’m a teacher. Even though Kolt isn’t in school, I make sure I take time each day to work with him on preschool activities. Plus, I jump at every chance to make everyday happenings a learning opportunity! I’m a chauffeur. Between baby gym, mom and me craft, story time, play dates, and doctors appointments, we’re on the road. And I’m sure I will only continue to spend more time in the driver’s seat as Kolt enters school and becomes involved in more activities. I’m a daycare provider. The kids are my top priority. I can’t just sit on the couch all day and do whatever I want. I have to make sure the kids are busy, safe, and engaged all day long. I’m a Referee. Both literally and figuratively. Although Em isn’t quite old enough for me to have to deal with sibling “fights”, I still find my self making sure that everyone plays fair during play dates. I’m a nurse. Band-aids, medicine, and mommy hugs…nothing cures Kolt’s bumps and bruises faster. I’m a psychiatrist. Not just for the kids, but hubby too! Kolt is really learning how to understand all his growing emotions and I’m there to help him every step of the way. I’m a maid. Personally, I prefer to be called a domestic diva and to be completely honest, this is certainly one job I could do without.
To top it all off, I’m on call 24/7. I work overtime, holidays and weekends. Mom’s are the glue that holds the family together. I do my best to make sure everything runs smoothly and everyone is happy!
Does that sound like unemployed to you?
My name is Marah. I am a twenty-four year old, stay at home mom and aspiring photographer. I’m a tandem nursing, cloth diapering, baby wearing, attachment parenting, co-sleeping, semi-crunchy kind of mama to a rambunctious toddler named Kolton, born December 6, 2009 and a beautiful baby girl named Emmersyn, born February 11, 2012. This a story of my journey through life in God's grace.
