#postnatal care for mother

[chhayawomenshospital]

Immediate Postnatal Care For Mother | Chhaya Women's Hospital

Chhaya Women's Hospital has a highly skilled team of professionals that takes Postnatal Care and is well-known as Immediate Postnatal Care of Mother. At Chhaya Women's Hospital, we understand that postnatal care is crucial for the health and well-being of both mother and baby. Our comprehensive postnatal care services are designed to support mothers through their recovery after childbirth. We offer personalized care plans, including physical check-ups, emotional support, breastfeeding guidance, and nutritional advice to help mothers regain their strength and confidence. Our dedicated team of healthcare professionals is here to ensure that you and your baby receive the best possible care during this important time. Trust Chhaya Women's Hospital for compassionate and expert postnatal care that prioritizes your health and happiness.

[chamakkattherbalproducts]

Chamakkatt Herbal Products: Ayurvedic Postnatal Care Medicines

Chamakkatt Herbal Products presents a range of Ayurvedic medicines specifically formulated for postnatal mother care for new moms. Our collection is rooted in traditional wellness practices and includes the following:

Dasamoolajeerakarishtam: A herbal tonic known to support overall strength and vitality, aiding in the recovery process after childbirth.

Dhanwantharam Gulika: A tablet form medicine beneficial for its restorative properties, which promote maternal health and well-being.

Dhanwantharam Kashaya: An herbal decoction designed to provide nurturing care, helping mothers regain physical balance and energy.

Kurinji Kuzhambu: An oil-based formula used externally to soothe muscles and joints, enhancing comfort and mobility post-delivery.

Pookula Lehyam: A traditional jam-like preparation aimed at boosting immunity and providing nutritional support for nursing mothers.

Attinbrath: Crafted with special ingredients known in Ayurveda to aid in recuperation, fortifying both body and mind after giving birth.

These products combine time-honored ingredients with modern manufacturing processes to ensure quality care for mothers during the crucial phase of post-pregnancy recovery. Click here to learn more: https://www.chamakkatt.com/shop-ayurvedic-postnatal-mother-pregnancy-care-medicine

[wishesmsg]

Postnatal Newborn Screening Tests

It is not difficult to identify certain issues, disabilities, and abnormalities in the baby before birth with the doctor's checkups that begin when the baby is in the mother's womb. There are various diagnostic methods available for this purpose.With the help of ultrasonography, some hormone tests conducted on the mother, and a specific test called "amniocentesis" where samples are taken from the amniotic fluid surrounding the baby, some chromosomal and organic anomalies, as well as functional problems, can be detected beforehand.In some cases, termination of pregnancy may also be an option based on these findings.

Newborn Screening Tests

Newborn screening tests are a series of blood tests, hearing tests, and other tests that are performed on newborn babies to check for certain medical conditions that may not be apparent at birth. These tests are usually done within the first few days of a baby's life and can help detect and treat potentially life-threatening conditions early on. Some of the conditions that can be detected through newborn screening tests include metabolic disorders, genetic disorders, and hearing loss. The exact tests that are done may vary depending on the state or country, but the goal is always to identify and treat potential health problems as early as possible to give the baby the best chance for a healthy life.

How are the tests done?

Newborn screening tests are done through a simple blood test. A healthcare professional will prick the baby's heel and collect a few drops of blood onto a special card. The blood is then sent to a laboratory for testing. The process is quick, easy, and generally painless for the baby. Some states also require a hearing test as part of the newborn screening process, which involves placing a small earpiece in the baby's ear to measure their response to sounds.

Not an Intelligence Test!

Some families do not see the importance of newborn screening tests and even consider them unnecessary, and this is a fact. Unfortunately, this test is commonly referred to as an "intelligence test," which contributes to this attitude. Experts warn families and emphasize that these tests are not for measuring intelligence. Rather, they help in the early detection of two critical diseases that could cause several problems, including mental retardation, later in life. Detecting these diseases in the first few weeks of life could prevent their progression. Prenatal tests are not sufficient for detecting these diseases. If left undetected, these diseases could cause brain damage that cannot be reversed. Read the full article

[hlfppt1]

Hindustan Latex Family Planning Promotion Trust

HLFPPT, is a healthcare NGO that works to improve and promote healthcare services in India, such as care for new mothers and care for older people.

Postnatal care is an important aspect of maternal healthcare that is often overlooked. Postnatal care is the medical care that is given to a mother and her baby after they are born. Postnatal care is very important for both the mother's and the baby's health and well-being.

HLFPPT has been working towards improving postnatal care for mothers in India. The organization has implemented various programs and initiatives to address the issue of postnatal care.

Under its Reproductive, Maternal, Newborn, Child, and Adolescent Health (RMNCH+A) program, HLFPPT gives postnatal care to mothers and newborns. The program includes postnatal check-ups, immunizations, breastfeeding support, and family planning services.

HLFPPT also works with people in the community to raise awareness about postnatal care and encourage mothers to use it. The organization works with various stakeholders, including government agencies, civil society organizations, and community-based organizations, to ensure access to quality postnatal care services for mothers and newborns.

Geriatric care is another important aspect of healthcare that is often overlooked in India. With an aging population, the country's need for geriatric care is rapidly increasing.

HLFPPT knows how important caring for older people is and has put in place a number of programs and initiatives to address the problem. Through its primary healthcare program, HLFPPT provides geriatric care to the elderly. The program includes regular health check-ups, medication management, and support for chronic illnesses.

HLFPPT also does things in the community to raise awareness about geriatric care and encourage older people to get medical help. The organization works with various stakeholders, including government agencies, civil society organizations, and community-based organizations, to ensure access to quality healthcare services for the elderly.

The work that HLFPPT has done in India to help new mothers and older people has made a big difference. The organization's programs and initiatives have helped to improve access to quality healthcare services for mothers, newborns, and the elderly.

In conclusion, HLFPPT is a leading healthcare NGO that has been working to improve care for new mothers and the elderly in India. The organization's programs and initiatives have the potential to transform the healthcare landscape in the country, and its work is a shining example of how NGOs can make a positive impact on society. HLFPPT's efforts in postnatal care for mothers and geriatric care are commendable and serve as an inspiration for other organizations working towards improving healthcare services in India.

[pritiblog1992]

A Complete Guide to Prenatal Yoga

Events and Meetups

Access info, discuss challenges, celebrate joys! Whether it be webinars on topics ranging from pregnancy nutrition to gestational diabetes and birth planning to postnatal yoga or it be local meetups with other mums – breastfeeding mums, VBAC’s, women in their last trimester – we are your village.

[ktempestbradford]

Lactation Influencers... Are Y'all Okay?

I dislike clickbait headlines as much as the next Gen Xer, but that does not make me immune to them. Thus, when I saw this headline...

Cookbook author speaks out following controversy over lactation cookies ad

...I had so many questions that demanded answers. I had to click.

Friends, I was not prepared for the journey I was about to embark on.

Before I even got to the first line of the article, this assaulted my eyes:

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that.

From the article:

Molly Baz is speaking out following controversy over a Times Square billboard featuring the pregnant cookbook author promoting lactation cookies. ... Brex, the company that sponsored Swehl's billboard, told ABC News the ad was removed following a message from Clear Channel, which owns the digital billboard. According to Brex, Clear Channel said the image depicted was "flagged for review."

Okay, but... lactation cookies?

According to Baz, the concept was meant to "empower" pregnant women and the cookies in the ad are marketed to help postpartum moms produce nutrient-dense breast milk.

*looks it up*

Y'all. They're called "BIG TITTY COOKIES"

I'll give you a minute to breathe through it.

Eye-rolling aside, this isn't the worst product I've ever heard of and, hey, maybe the cookies are good.

So why did Clear Channel want the ad gone? The answer to that isn't straightforward for a couple of reasons.

They did not remove the ad or even ask it to be removed from their billboard.

Molly Baz decided to use this opportunity tragedy to raise her profile as a lactation influencer the alarm about how men are misogynist (????).

"It's super disheartening and infuriating to me that my, kind of, first public foray into being a public mother was one that was deemed inappropriate," Baz said. Said Baz, "From my perspective, the imagery that we put together was no different from any of the other ads that are in Times Square." "[T]ake one look at the landscape of other billboards in times square and i think you'll see the irony. bring on the lingerie so long as it satiates the male gaze," Baz wrote...

I feel I can confidently say that I'm not being sex negative when I retort: MA'AM, what?

"There's a bit of a history of, I will say, a double standard that when bodies, specifically breasts are shown when it comes to selling lingerie, let's say, that's more acceptable but when it's something having to do with prenatal wellness or postnatal care, nursing, that tends to get flagged and we see a little bit of backlash," [Zoe Ruderman, a chief content officer for Adweek], added.

I know this is true in general, but in this case, is that what's really going on? After all, Clear Channel didn't even take the ad down permanently, and the marketing company provided an alternate ad without even being asked. One has to wonder if this is a manufactured controversy.

I say that even though I know full well that there is a double standard when it comes to women's bodies and whose gaze is being catered to and when it comes to lactating mothers, lactation, and women's health. That said, there's no way this image wasn't chosen for its Male Gaze Worthiness.

It's not the amount of exposed flesh, which isn't any worse than any lingerie or bikini ad. It is that this woman is holding cookies up to her breasts next to text that says "Just add milk" and the name of a website/company that is probably well-known to people who are or want to be pregnant and little known outside of that. If I were in Times Square, looked up, and saw that? I'd assume it's an ad for a sex fetish bakery.

In all honesty, the thing I assumed was controversial (before clicking) was that someone had posted an ad for cookies made using human breast milk. That would have made somewhat more sense as a controversy.

There's no way everyone involved in "concepting" this campaign (yes, they used concept as a verb in their official statement) didn't know this was a possible reaction or outcome. They appear to have expected it. Which is why they immediately had another ad to replace it and some very RAH RAH WOMEN! Down with the Patriarchy! social media posts likely on deck. That's real feminist of you, becky.

The disingenuousness of it all bothers me the most. Just because the social justice issue they're highlighting is real doesn't mean they are somehow champions of the cause because they dared to show a pregnant belly on a billboard. If anyone complained, I doubt their complaint was based on a prejudice against lactating mothers or that lactation was hinted at.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Seeker Allure Part 2 ❙ ES Starscream x Skywarp x Nova Storm x f!robot reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: Smut ( spike in valve, threesome and spark merging ) some angst, postnatal anxiety and sparking cuteness. NSFW 18+.

Notes: I'm really glad I did this! For a while I was considering doing a part 2 but never really put much thought into it until I got the request. Once again, I got carried away with this, no self control. Thanks anon for sending through. Sorry for the delay. Enjoy. 🥰

☕ Coffee

Those bastards! No, Starscream, damn him!

This wasn't part of the plan, and it was not the best time either. After your last encounter you felt a nagging tug close to your spark chamber, and discovered that you were carrying a sparkling, a seeklet, Starscream's sparkling.

You're terrified and you don't want anyone else knowing about your condition, so you stay in hiding at an abandoned observatory where you make it home for a bit at least, and also a place to help gather your thoughts.

Bumblebee had found out though by accident when coming to check up on her, worried, but promised to keep your secret, wanting to help however possible and also wanting to let you do your own thing with your thoughts. Honestly, you're glad, because he's been helpful and provided you with enough energon.

At first you're terrified, not fully prepared for this, but that fear changes when your sparkling has finished developing within your gestation chamber, and opening your chassis you allow the little one to come out, and you're holding them for the first time.

A femme seeklet. She's beautiful, a striking imagine of Starscream, but still perfect. You're a creator now and your mother instinct kick in finally for you to care and protect your creation.

Despite just having a sparkling, you were still overthinking about everything, what dangers might come, what the seekers might do, or if humans gain interest and will want to take her away from you.

What if Starscream takes her away from you?

No, you won't let that happen.

Things didn't really get better for you though, emotion and mood wise, fearing every possible outcome for your sparkling and struggling to recharge, as each cry from your seeklet dangles you right over the ledge into the abyss. It's not good for you, and you know this, but being on your own did have its impact sadly.

While you're staring out into the city lights from your view, lost in your thoughts, you're -- brought back by the sound of your sparkling and hurried to the crafted nest you made and checked on your little one, spark racing rapidly and clenching anxiously.

"Sweetie, are you alright? What happened?" You carefully scoop her up into your servos and hold them close against your chassis. They whimper as warm lubricant tears stream down their small face before it slowly ceases, sniffling and nuzzling into their creator. "Did you have a nightmare?"

You don't expect answers of course, but she is really the only one you get to speak with. She responds though, looking up at you and lets out a bundle of chirps, reaching her tiny arms up to touch your cheek plating. She's so sweet!

Smiling you nuzzle into her servos and let out a gentle hum. "I love you, sweetling, my universe, my greatest treasure. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

For a time you hold her, humming a gentle lullaby from cybertron while rocking her into recharge again. It's been too long since you last saw home, you missed it, and it was making you severely homesick.

Once settling her again you end up watching her recharge for a long while, you weren't even sure how long, but you couldn't take your optics off her peacefully recharging. When you are finally able to leave it's only because you needed to refuel, and slowly exit yourself from the crafted nest you made.

Your anxiety won't settle, you fear, your spark constantly clenching and beating rapidly. It's not a good feeling and you hate it, but you don't know how to stop it. You kept telling yourself it'll pass, that it was only for now, but the longer it went on the more you less believe this.

Again, you find yourself staring out into the open view you had, and as peaceful as it was, you don't feel at peace. It's a never ending silent torment that has corrupted you. Constant fear.

"You're a hard one to find." The voice of Starscream suddenly hits your audios like a stinging buzz that stabs right through your spark, spiking your fear as you turn to see him within the observatory, Skywarp and Nova Storm trailing behind him casually.

"H-how did you find me?" You stutter while trying to keep a distance from them.

"We noticed the yellow bug made regular trips out here, and so we followed him, leading us to you. Is there...something going on between you two?" Starscream hints, annoyed if that small bug ever tried to steal what was rightfully theirs.

"Of course not, I mean how can she when she's got us." Nova Storm giggles. Her giggles used to make you quiver in delight, but not this time.

You continue to try to keep away, moving yourself while your optics are fastened on them, fear consuming every inch in you. Every other time you've encountered them it's always been annoyance and uncontrollable lust, but not now, and the seekers soon realised this, much to their confusion.

"What's wrong? Why are you afraid?" Starscream narrows his optics at you.

"Come on darling, we've never hurt you before." Skywarp tries to come closer. "Why would you think that now?"

That's not why you're afraid.

"Please...you need to leave."

It's Starscream that steps closer bluntly. "And why would we leave? What is it you're hiding?" He can tell, you're hiding something and it's causing your fear to spike up. He's never seen you like this before.

"Nothing! Go! Now! Get out!" You suddenly shove at Starscream chassis, causing him to stumble back, stunned by your actions.

However, your outburst is loud and high up in the nest you've created is where your sparkling once again stirred awake again, crying out, irritated that her recharge was interrupted.

The seekers all look up, now noticing the nest and you see the bewildered expressions consuming their faces. You act, and fly up towards the nest where you hastily gather your sparkling into your arms and hold her close, hiding from the world.

Turning around you're suddenly faced with seekers who had followed you, but kept a distance as they all continue to watch on as if they're in a trance. You sparkling continues to cry into your chassis, confused by what's happening as you hold them protectively, using your arms to shield her from the seekers.

"Please..." You can only whimper, fearing they will take her away from you.

"You have a sparkling." Skywarp says in a gentle tone. "Is this why you've been hiding?" You can only nod weakly.

"My sparkling." Starscream declares. He's thrilled, but also annoyed. "Why didn't you tell me?" He goes to step closer, making you step back before Starscream was stopped by Nova Storm.

"What are you afraid of?" Skywarp is the only one who steps closer slowly, knowing you're terrified.

"Please...don't take her away from me." You can only continue to whisper through your shaky voice.

"She? A femme?" Starscream's wings flicker in excitement. He wants to see her, hold her, but Nova Storm stops him. It seems the femmes were the only two understanding your fear and don't want to make it worse.

"Why would we take her away from you?" Skywarp is confused.

Indeed, why would they? You couldn't even explain, it was just the horrible nagging dread that consumes your mind. Your sparkling is all you have, and you don't want that ripped away from you.

You don't answer her, and when you look up you notice Skywarp is much closer now causing you to shrink back in fear, only to hear her giving gentle hushes before slowly reaching out to touch your shoulder, causing you to flinch from the contact. Your spark feels like it's going to erupt from its chamber, throbbing repeatedly, it's horrible.

"No one is taking her away from you." Skywarp assures. "And if anyone did try, I'd scrap them, we all would."

Meeting her optics you don't see the lustful blazing gaze you've always seen on other occasions, and instead you're greeted with gentle kindness. "Promise?"

"A thousand times over, I promise." Skywarp is now standing right beside you as she rubs your shoulders to help try and relax you. She looks down at the sparkling in your arms and smiles. "She's a striking image of you, Starscream."

"Can I see her?" He vents, still annoyed, but anxious to see his creation.

With Skywarp at your side, Starscream and Nova Storm come closer finally. You're still scared, clinging onto your sparkling as she whimpers into your chassis, tiny servos digging into your plating. Their shadows cover you but the feel of Skywarp's gentle servos over your shoulders is what helps you calm your racing spark just a little.

They're all so close, huddling closely, but Skywarp and Nova Storm are stroking your frame and gently rubbing your wings, making you quiver lightly under their touches, but it helps.

Meeting Starscream's gaze, you see the silent plea lingering in those baby blue optics, desperately wanting to touch his creation. Then finally, you move, gently holding your sparkling and allowing Starscream to take her to hold.

"Watch her helm." You whisper while helping him support her.

Starscream is in a trance as he holds his beautiful sparkling in his servos, feeling himself smile as she onlines her teary optics, curiously looking up at the new seekers. She's not use to them, never before seeing any of them, but she feels an odd connection towards Starscream. This is her sire.

You've never seen Starscream like this before, a gentleness, cradling his sparkling closely as she curiously touches his face plating. Skywarp leans her helm against your shoulder and you lean into her, holding onto both femmes as you feel your emotions flood through you, a relief but also guilt.

Afterwards, it was Skywarp and Nova Storm's turn to babysit. Both femmes eagerly cared for your sparkling while making her giggle and chirp away at them. This is the time for you and Starscream to talk to one another.

Outside, on the ramp attached to the observatory, you and Starscream sit together, a long and dreaded silence floats in the air, each of you waiting for who just might break that silence. It's Starscream.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Of course, the top question. Why didn't you?

"I...I was scared." There's a hanging strain in your voice.

"But you told the yellow bug." Starscream is blunt and you feel you deserve that.

"He found out by accident, but I made him promise to not tell anyone. He's just been bringing me enough energon. He's a good friend." You look up seeing the jealousy hanging on his face. "There's nothing going on between us."

"Good." Starscream doesn't want you to be touched by anyone else other than him or his trine. "What were you scared of? I would've been there for you and helped."

You realise this now, that perhaps you should've told him. "I was scared my sparkling was going to be taken away from me."

Starscream narrows his optics. "Why would you think I would take her away from you?"

"Not just you, everyone. The humans, Optimus, Megatron, I...I'm still scared someone is going to take her away. I can't explain it, its all I've been worrying about." You lean yourself against the solid wall behind you.

It's quiet for a moment, a stinging silence, before you feel his arms wrapping around your frame and bringing you closer against his chassis, hugging you, while you lean into the tender comfort.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." You whisper, feeling guilty you've kept this from him. Starscream lets out a low grunt. He's hurt, and you don't blame him for being angry with you.

"I'm staying." His words get you to look up at him, confused. "I'm not leaving you or our sparkling. Skywarp and Nova Storm will probably stick around, but I'm not going anywhere." His servos touch your face and he traces his digits under your optics tenderly.

"So I'm stuck with you?" You can't help but pout, teasing him, and he answers through a soft chuckle.

"Don't sound too disappointed, but yes, you're stuck with me. Tough luck." He feels just how much you're heating up simply by his touches. "Getting warm are we?" He leans closer and lets out a purr into your neck, glossa running against your sensitive cables.

"Your fault." You moan faintly, tilting your helm to give him better access. "You're like a parasight I can't get rid of."

"A parasight you crave." His words murmur out against your neck before feeling his servos moving over your waist, tugging you closer against him that you welcome.

"Shut up and kiss me." You grab his helm and kiss him firmly, pushing your glossa between his lips and devouring him, dominating his glossa with your own with greed.

Starscream smirks against your lips as he kisses back just as hard, servos gripping into your soft armour and moving up around your sensitive wings causing you to shiver under his skillful touches.

For the first time in a while, you don't feel afraid, and that's a beautiful relief. He breaks the kiss and holds your servos, leading you towards the berth, one that was never used since you've been recharging in the nest with your sparkling.

"I've had my trine for a long time. Skywarp and Nova Storm became conjunx's and I became their amica, and its always been the three of us together. I want you to become part of our bond, and we'll become four. So, let's skip traditions, become my conjunx tonight, join me, join our bonds."

He's serious.

You're quiet in thought for a moment, causing him to speak. "Do you see yourself with anyone else?"

"No, not really."

"Good. So?"

Waiting for the granted permission, that's all he was waiting for. Over the years you've always had your lustful encounters with the trine, and it just carried on as if it was normal. Now, you're being offered to break that trine and become their fourth trine member. There is nothing to lose, so of course you answer what you feel is right, no matter how crazy it was.

"Alright."

Almost immediately, you find yourself laid back against the berth, lost in a intense and passionate kiss with Starscream as he presses himself between your legs, smoothly grinding himself against you panel and causing you to moan out in soft bliss, glossas tangling together while your servo move behind to tease his wings tips lightly, earning you a shiver from him along with a satisfied hum.

Breaking the kiss he lets out a giggle at our pouting, but this changes when he starts descending down your body and you feel his lips against your inner thighs making you arch your back under his heated vents.

Without even asking or being told, you retract your panel, revealing your moist valve for him to feast upon. He lets out purrs of delight before moving closer and gliding his glossa against your outer lips and across your ceiling node, earning him a joyful mewl from you. He loves the sounds you make, always like a beautiful melody.

Feeling his glossa wiggle its way into your valve you let out a number of sorts of sounds, moaning loudly while venting and biting your lips, servos clenching his helm as your optics shutter close.

"Such pretty sounds." You hear Nova Storm whisper at your side, joined by Skywarp on your other. As aroused as you are, you can't help but ask.

"W-where's-"

"She's recharging." Skywarp answers. "She's safe, I promise. Let us take care of you, darling." You relax as you feel them touching you in your most sensitive places, becoming a moaning mess as you embrace the pleasure boiling through your frame.

Starscream lifts your waist up as he buries his face against your valve more, letting out a lingering moan that vibrates through your perfectly, glossa rolling back and forth, drawing out more beautiful sounds from you.

Skywarp tilts your helm and shares a kiss with you, one you welcome very eagerly. It's a lot to take in but you crave every touch and kiss from them. This is what you want, seekers always stick together.

"Can we see?" Nova Storm whispers into your audio as her digits trace over your chassis, right above where your spark was. You respond through a murmur before shifting your plating and relieving your pulsing and glowing spark.

"So beautiful." Nova Storm whispers, before leaning across your chassis, servos carefully touching your chamber, before you feel her glossa lick against your spark.

Never have you felt something so sensational. Soft mewls of bliss erupt from you, greedy for it all, treated like a princess. Your sounds are swallowed by Skywarp again as she twirls her digit against your wing. All three of them, it's quite a lot to deal with.

Being lost in the moment you don't realise right away that they had stopped, Starscream coming up to lean over your frame, his spike already hard and running up against the outside of your valve. When you do realise this, Starscream kisses you, his lips and glossa soaking with your juices while Skywarp and Nova Storm both embrace in a passionate kiss, their own sparks open and touching one another, vocals erupting in chaotic orgy.

Your attention is on Starscream then, and you feel his pulsing spike enter your valve, every ridge pressing in and filling you completely. Arching your back you let out a low mewl as your servos grip onto his arms, legs wrapping around his waist as you clench around him.

Every throb pulses through your channel, sending electric buzzes through you repeatedly, before feeling him move. He's got a firm grip around your waist as he thrusts into you, tugging you back against him at a shallow and firm rhythm.

Starscream leans down towards your neck, thrusts slow and short, causing you to let out a grunt as you try to move your hips quicker against him, and this causes him to giggle into your neck.

"Stop your giggling." You tap his shoulder as a warning.

"Make me." He continues to giggle like a brat, and you roll your optics.

"I could, or you can frag me harder and join our sparks together?"

"You're so demanding."

"You love it." His silence is your answer. He does love it. He smiles, and it's his mischief kind. Damn that smile.

You watch as his cockpit and chassis shift their platings, relieving his pulsing spark and leaning closer again. There's one more kiss, one more thrust, before both your sparks collide together.

His movements grew intense, shallow firm thrusts rocking you into the berth as you wrap yourself tightly against him, sparks joined and pulsing rapidly together while all your blissful sounds fill the air.

You feel either Skywarp or Nova Storm holding her servo and you hold back. You're not sure who it is, though it doesn't matter, and the overpowering pleasure briskly boils even more. You moan, you cry, you fall apart feeling his spike thrust into you over again and his spark wrapping around your own, feeling the bond grow and complete itself, right before Starscream gives a sharp thrust and stills, hissing out as he overloads.

He fills your channel with his warm fluids, your own overload suddenly crashing through as well as you hold onto him and you mewl out in delight. It's so alluring, the moment, everything you're feeling, so perfect.

Your systems start to shut down due to your lack of recharge already, and you feel yourself being wrapped up by the seekers bodies before going into a blissful recharge.

The next morning, you are online, to find yourself back in the nest, tangled up with Skywarp and Nova Storm warmly that makes you smile softly. You can feel the seeker bond between you all, the bond with Starscream, it's a blissful feeling.

Gently, you remove yourself from the tangled embrace, smiling softly as the femmes embrace one another before hovering your way down only to find Starscream outside standing on the ramp with your sparkling in his arms, speaking to her.

Quietly, you come up behind, listening.

"One day you'll see Cybertron, my little seeklet. It's beautiful, and soon it'll thrive, hope for our world and species. You're going to love it." He speaks fondly to her as she chirps in response.

Coming up behind, you wrap an arm around his waist and lean into his side. "One day, we'll go home."

Starscream gives a rare tender smile, a softness he hasn't expressed in a long time. He feels he can finally find peace with his new family, a chance to become something different, something better. He tenderly leans back into your frame, servos holding and stroking your sparkling affectionately.

Home indeed.

[fernsbys]

⸻ anna torv, 44, cis woman, she/her ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of EMERY FERNSBY. they are FORTY FOUR, and have been missing for SEVEN YEARS IN ARCADIA. when the sun rises, they work as the LEADER OF COMMUNAL HOUSE. rumors in town say they can be CLOSED OFF and PROTECTIVE. they chose to live in COMMON HOUSE, and have an uncanny resemblance to JULIETTE NICHOLS (SILO), MARE SHEEHAN (MARE OF EASTTOWN) & ANDY (THE OLD GUARD). can they survive another night ?…⸻ broken watch, old and torn flannel blouses & cowboy hat.

file info.

BIRTH NAME: Emery Charlene Fernsby NICKNAMES: Em, Fernsby, Sergeant GENDER: Cis woman, she/her BIRTHDATE: August 16th, 1980 AGE: 44 BIRTHPLACE: Selma, Alabama, USA HOMETOWN: Fort Carson, Colorado, USA RESIDENCY: Communal House, Arcadia/Hell Town OCCUPATION: Leader of Communal House SEXUALITY: Lesbian RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married

early ages.

Born to Michael and Jane Fernsby, the couple hadn't counted on having a child. In fact, the pregnancy had been fairly unwanted. Yet, both raised religiously, they were very pro-life and took it upon themselves to raise a child. But taking care of a baby took a toll on them both, Jane suffered from postnatal depression and Michael took after his father's alcoholism problem. He disappeared most nights to the bar as Jane rather let Emery cry for hours than take care of her. That's the childhood she remembers, the alcoholic father with anger issues and the emotionally distant mother. During her childhood she was always behind in school, she was behind in socializing and didn't have any friends. Because of her father's behavior, she acted up too, picked fights with other children who made fun of her, she swore a lot for her age. When her personality issues became a problem at the town's public school, she got sent to a religious one instead.

18 and up.

The day Emery turned 18, she packed her bags overnight and ran away from home. She ran away as far as she could and signed herself up for the army in Alabama. Her parents never batted an eye at her disappearance, they couldn't care less. And Emery couldn't care less about her parents either. She found solace in the army, after a rough couple of months of getting taught discipline, of learning to let go of her old self. No more picking fights, no more kids play. For the first time in her life, she was equal to others in her rank. For the first time in her life she knew what it was like to have a home. The army became Emery's actual home. She toughened up in a different way, the army shaped her into a better person. She learned what it meant to have respect for one another. To trust one another. To rely on one another. It took years for Emery to deal with her traumatic past, one day at a time. One thing she knew for sure; she was free now.

At 28 her life changed for the better. It was the introduction of a new face to the team she'd gotten tight with, a woman whose guts Emery hated so. The medical addition to the team after their previous one had been relocated was nothing to Emery's likings. The woman was like a slap to her face and Emery made sure to let her know they'd be better off without her every step of the way. The army had none of her behavior and sent the two off together on a field mission. Emery had to learn how to stop picking fights all over again, like a little kid. Little did she know that the reason why she acted the way she did, was because of underlying feelings she never had before. The two learned to trust each other after long days of having to only deal with each other. A friendship grew, which only made Emery excel at her job. Until the friendship became much more than that and feelings came into play heavier than before.

After taking forever tiptoeing around one another, their friendship changed to a romantic relationship. Which eventually led to marriage. The talk of living together. The talk of even leaving the army, if it meant they could live a safer life. Never did they leave one another's side, they were a team after all.

At 35, Emery made it to the rank of Sergeant. She was in charge now of the younger soldiers. She went on less field missions and remained stationed at base to teach the ones who were still so naive. She made it to the other side of where she once stood, young and so stupidly dumb. Her time of being Sergeant was rather lived short, Emery and her wife were planning on leaving the army soon. The sooner rather became later, it still took two years before they - mostly Emery - found solace in leaving the army. Emery only had one last field mission to fulfill, this time without her wife by her side.

hell town.

Her arrival and first night in town was quite literally Hell. It would've been her last mission before she'd drop out of the army, for her wife, for the two of them to start a new life. Away from all the danger and off to a house in the suburbs with a picket fence. With three soldiers she got sent off to another base, this time without her wife by her side. It would just be a quick mission, she'd be gone for a day or two, nothing crazy. They drove the roads they'd driven plenty of times before, only for the scenery to change to unfamiliar grounds and a strange town to appear after they came across the tree in the road. As the sun had set, their car got stopped by Them and gunshots had taken over when panic had set into her companions' minds. Emery had barely made it out alive, having experienced a trauma she never could've imagined. Something far worse than all those years she'd served in the army.

Over time it became clear that there was no escape from town. Somewhere along the line she'd taken leadership of the common house, a place where she found solace among other people. With her experience as a sergeant in the army, leadership comes to her quite easy. She's there for new people who also fall victim to the curse of town, no matter what residency they choose. Everyone in town has the same goal eventually: try to find a way out - to return back home.

inquiries.

How did your muse spend their first night in Arcadia, and where? When the lives of all three of the soldiers she was with were brutally taken by Them, Emery made a run for the closest building she laid eyes on. After the commotion of gunshots caused by the panicked minds of her companions, they had been Their first targets. Emery somehow made it out of the car and found shelter in the radio station not too far ahead.

Why did your muse choose to live where they do? The common house, Emery has a hard time being by herself. That's when the demons come and plague her mind, she can't handle isolation, most especially not during the night. It's how the army has always been her home, always surrounded by people, just like the common house grants her the feeling of protection.

What was your muse doing when they came across the tree? On their way to what should've been Emery's last field mission in the army, it quite literally became her last trip for the army. The sun had gone down rather sooner than later, they should've arrived at their destined post already. But the GPS in the car had been acting up, their surroundings were unfamiliar to the roads they'd driven so many more times before, they'd encountered the tree in the road and the strange town a couple of times before the trusted soldiers she was with even started to doubt themselves. It was close to the gas station, they were stopped by people in the streets. Except... these weren't people. When They started to surround the car, it was clear this was more than a fever dream.

Has your muse left anything behind that they are desperately trying to return to or escape? Her wife/partner. The love of her life. Her home. Aside from the place she once called her second home, the army, it is losing her soulmate that plagues her the most.

wanted connections.

THE LOVE OF HER LIFE: The woman she met in the army, the woman whose guts she hated to her core, the woman who she got partnered up with and had to trust with her life and vice versa, the woman she eventually caught feelings for, the woman she married, the woman she devoted her entire life to. ⸻ TAKEN

THE ONE SHE CALLS HER BEST BUDDY: Emery lost her army mates the first night she arrived and has been by herself ever since. She's very closed off about the private life she had before entering Hell Town, but this person she trusts telling more than anybody else.

THE PROTÉGÉ('S): A newcomer or younger person who she's been helping out growing comfortable, even though there is no such thing, in this place. Someone she's taken under her wing and spends time with during the day or night.

[lily-valley-cc]

Ultimate Midwifery | TS4 Career Mod

Becoming a Midwife allows you to embrace the "delivery" business like no other! You'll be the expert navigator in the miraculous journey of childbirth, providing essential care and support to expectant mothers and their little bundles of joy. From prenatal check-ups to postnatal care, you'll be a parent's guardian angel, ensuring smooth landings and happy beginnings for every baby born under your watchful eye. So, if you have a knack for delivering smiles and want to be part of the world's most amazing delivery team, Midwifery might just be the perfect calling for you!

This is an update and remake of my original Midwifery career. I loved my original mod and have wanted to expand on this for a long time. Hope you all like it!

Ultimate Midwifery includes 1 main track and 5 career branches! Branches include: Midwifery Leadership, Perinatal Mental Health Midwife, Specialist Young Parent Midwife, Bereavement Midwife and Obstetric High-Risk Specialist Midwife.

More career information about career levels can be found HERE!

DOWNLOAD: CF or SFS

Any issues please get in touch via DM.

Enjoy! ❤

TOU: Please do not put my cc behind paywalls or reupload. Link back to my Tumblr if you use my CC; I’d love to see it!

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldur’s Gate fanfiction

CHAPTER 13 - IS IT A BOY OR A GIRL?

As each day passes, strange sensations within the brain continue to haunt me, though they aren’t consistent. I wonder if it’s just paranoia or trauma, though the feelings are oddly familiar. The baby is due any day now and the excitement and fear of the birth intertwine with one another like a thread. My belly has grown like a weed and it’s become very heavy to walk around with, though the feeling is hard to explain in the best way possible. Gale has been teaching at Blackstaff and having to come up with magic assignments for his students, so he’s been pretty hard at work. Luckily, he will have a month-long break soon enough, I think in two weeks.

My body aches have been pretty intense, so I’ve been on bedrest. Luckily, a doctor from Baldur’s Gate has been sent here to Waterdeep and has been keeping tabs on me. A new hospital has finally opened up after the high demands (some of them coming from me), and I am excited. I was worried to death I would not have any prenatal or postnatal care, but also that our little one would not have the support he or she needs.

I get up from the bed, feeling every ache and pain throughout my body, and holy mother of the Gods, I just want it to end. I can hardly walk. I need Gale home as soon as possible, because today might be it.

“Take it easy, Emmy,” Tara says. “Don’t you move around too much if you don’t have to.” I groan as I try to take a few steps, but I’m so thirsty; I definitely haven’t been drinking enough.

“I just need…water…” I’m nearly running out of breath as I try to make my way into the kitchen. A contraction so strong suddenly takes over my body, and I hunch over in pain as my water begins to break. I stare at the floor in sheer panic, my eyes wide in fear. “I need Gale!” My voice carries a strong tone of agony as I beg for him to come home, tears streaming down my eyes as I fall to the floor.

“Oh, oh no! Um, Shadowheart is closer. I’ll go grab her and then when she makes it here, I’ll grab Gale. Oooh! How exciting but scary. I’ll be back quickly!” Tara flies out of the house as quickly as she can; so quick, in fact, I could hardly see her. The pain continues to radiate through my body like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Could it really be much worse than being shanked by a rogue or whacked with a battle axe? I begin to scream as the pain gets worse, hoping and praying that Gale will be here soon, though who knows how long it could take?

“Sȇlune, please… Guide me, heal me, help me…” The contractions get worse, feeling like intense cramps while being shanked in the stomach. Shadowheart bolts through the door after only about five minutes, which means Tara is on her way to get Gale. Shadowheart notices me on the kitchen floor writhing in pain and begging for help. My eyes are moving side to side, hoping for some sort of interference that can help me. My heart is racing and the world around me spins as I try to stay calm.

“Ssh, I’m here. I’m not quite sure what to do, but let me see. Astarion and Tara went to grab Gale.”

“Great news! Um. I don’t know how much longer the baby will stay in there… Shar’s BONES!” I scream. I’m surprised my shrieks haven’t broken any glass.

“I’ll need to remove your trousers.” I nod, unable to say another word. She removes my pants and I can feel the baby coming, and I’m hoping Gale doesn’t miss the birth, though I’m sure he could live without seeing any of this disastrous mess. I continue to search around the room, wondering if I can spot a shadow or reflection of Gale, but nothing so far.

Each minute that passes feels like a lifetime, but after about ten more minutes, my contractions start to die a little and I feel more at ease. I notice the front door swinging open, and here comes Gale flying through the door in panic. He’s trying to catch his breath as he rushes to me and holds my head with his strong hand.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he says, smiling at me with the same one that caused me to fall in love with him. That smile. He knows damn well his smile keeps me calm. “Shadowheart! Will you grab her pillow off the sofa please?”

“Will do.” Shadowheart grabs the red velvet pillow – my favorite pillow that has our wedding date embroidered in it – placing it underneath my head. Somehow, this helps, and I can’t explain why. Then again, I don’t think anyone wants to willingly lay their head on a wooden floor for long periods of time. “I hope this helps.”

“It does. Thank you,” I say, trying to catch my breath. The contractions continue again, only this time I feel the baby moving and attempting to make a rapid appearance. Gale’s eyes widen and while he has an expression of discomfort, I can see a particular glimmer in his eye; the reflection of our baby making earthside.

“Um, yeah, I’m going to hang outside with the handsome vampire man,” Tara says. “Good luck!”

After a solid hour of lying on the floor, our baby finally arrives. Gale brings the baby out, holding a tiny body in his hands. He smiles at our child, completely content as his eyes are glistening with happy tears as he welcomes him – or her – into the world. The little cries can be heard and they’re ever-so gentle and the sweetest sign that our little person is alive. We did it.

“Oh…my gosh…” I say, closing my eyes as I feel my body relax. “It’s finally over.” It’s as if my body went from a sharp, piercing pain throughout every crevice of my insides to a feeling of the soft float of a feather, every inch of me ascending into a feeling of numbness and peace. My mind feels relaxed, and my chills are gone. Is it asinine that I want to take a nap now?

“The most adorable…”

“Don’t leave us hanging, Gale. Is it a boy or a girl?” Shadowheart asks. I lean my head back from exhaustion and while I’m extremely fatigued, I feel a sense of clarity in my soul as I notice strings of the Weave floating around the room. I feel alive again and so incredible.

“It’s a girl,” Gale whispers. “Our beautiful girl. Oh, but you know what? We never discussed names.”

A baby girl. I never expected to have a daughter, but I’m thrilled. Ecstatic. Joyful. A part of us has entered this world, and I’m so excited to experience every second of her life as she flourishes and becomes her own person. Gale hands her to me, and I stare at her sleeping face as she yawns, her tiny body stretching as I hold her close. As I admire our daughter, Gale kisses the top of my head so delicately and brushes my sweaty hair out of my face. This is probably the most human I’ve felt in months; sweat dripping, exhaustion, but feeling whole.

“I’ll go get a washcloth to wipe her down. Once she’s clean, I’ll get her dressed. Shadowheart, could you help Emmy to our bed please?” Gale asks. She smiles and nods.

“Of course I will.”

It’s been a very long, intense morning but I survived it, like I always do. Baby girl has arrived. Despite everything, it was worth it. I finally get to lie in bed now with Gale by my side and our newborn on my chest, soaking in this beautiful moment that I will never get to experience again.

“I love you,” Gale says softly. His words bring chills across my body like a sweet song I can’t get enough of. I wish I could just press ‘repeat.’

“I love you too. So much.”

“I’m so thankful for you. If I ascended into Godhood or used the orb to kill myself at the Netherbrain, we wouldn’t be in this moment together. We wouldn’t have her.” As he speaks, I can hear his words shake, as if he’s trying to fight tears. As much as he tried, the tears won. I wipe the tear drops falling down his cheeks with my free hand, smiling at this man I call my husband.

“Gale. You always saw my potential. You made me feel good from the very moment we met. Giving up what we have would have killed me. I could never let you die.” He leans his head on mine, staring admirably at our daughter.

“I don’t deserve you.” His warm lips press against the side of my head, which is still sweaty but he doesn’t care. It’s like he said when we were on our adventures: “I rather enjoy your musk.” From that moment, I knew I loved him and everything about him.

“Why don’t we name her Jenevelle? You know, Shadowheart’s real name?”

“That’s perfect. Oh, Shadowheart will cry.” At that moment, I hear a small gasp from outside our door, and I just knew she was listening. I smile; without a doubt, she will cry.

It took some major adjusting over a course of a few days, but after about two weeks, both Gale and I seem to be doing just fine and our baby is on a schedule now. I nurse her every two hours, she naps every two hours, and she gets changed every two hours. She doesn’t even really wake up in the middle of the night except maybe once or twice. Unfortunately, I have to wake myself up to make sure she’s fed and clean.

We’re now ready to introduce her to our friends. Today, we have a plan to have our friends come visit and say hi to our new addition. I’m a little nervous about it, simply because no one other than Gale and I have held her yet. I need to quit being selfish over my newborn.

“I give it a few minutes before Karlach shows up,” I say. “You know she’s been dying to meet her.”

“Karlach can be heard from a mile away. I’m sure we’ll know before she’s even here,” Gale says, shaking his head but chuckling. “Oh Karlach.” It was at that very moment, we heard her voice and I almost want to believe we summoned her. She always did have great timing.

“I CAN’T WAIT!”

“Can you keep it down, Karlach? We aren’t even at the door yet,” Astarion says. “Lord knows their child is asleep and gets woken up by an overexcited tiefling.” I head for the door and open it before anyone has the chance to knock. Gale is holding Jenevelle, who is staring directly at him with her dark eyes. Her hair is long, thick and very dark, and you can definitely tell she’s our child.

“Come on in, everyone,” I say, smiling as the group begins to walk inside. They either must have all met up beforehand or they conveniently showed up at the same time. Karlach is so hyped, I’m wondering how she’s even able to contain herself. I assume the self-control is at a minimum.

“Oh. My. Gods,” Karlach whisper-yells. “Look at that baby.” Jenevelle coos, looking toward Karlach as she enters the room. Her bright crimson tiefling skin must be catching her attention. She doesn’t look afraid but rather interested in Karlach; it doesn’t help that she has the energy of a Golden Retriever.

“It seems she already has a fascination in you,” Gale says. “Would you like to hold her?” Karlach turns around with excitement to look at Wyll, who is laughing lightly at her frantic behavior.

“Don’t be nervous,” he tells her. “I know how excited you’ve been.” Gale gently hands Jenevelle over to Karlach, placing the baby in her arms. Another blessing of not having that old engine is that Karlach will now not light herself on fire when she’s excited or angry. Jenevelle looks up at her in admiration, her mouth shaped in a circle as if she’s about to say “oooo” as she focuses into her flaming orange eyes. Gale wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me gently toward him as we watch our child and Karlach exchange amused gazes. If parenthood is enjoying your baby being happily entertained by the presence of tieflings, then I’m glad I’m living in this moment. It’s been a ride so far.

“So, how is it going as parents? Are you two doing alright?” Halsin asks. “I imagine it’s been quite the adjustment, being first time parents and all.”

“It’s not bad,” Gale responds. “I introduced the Weave to the baby and it keeps her soothed. That’s been a blessing. We have her on a set schedule now, thank the stars.”

“You’re doing great. I can tell you are very protective and care so much about your little one. May the challenges stay at a minimum and health flourishes within all of you.” Karlach’s eyes get wide and she stares directly at both Gale and I, immediately handing Jenevelle back to Gale as she spontaneously yet clumsily makes her way off the couch.

“Here you go, Gale. Fireworks? LET’S GO!” She takes Wyll’s hand and off they go, bolting out to our front yard to set off fireworks. I can’t help but raise an eyebrow, for the sky isn’t even dark yet.

“Karlach, what – Oh…” Gale sighs, looking at our daughter with a crooked smile, then glares playfully at Karlach as she runs outside. “I guess I’m changing her. I’ll be back.”

“And I’ll get the grill started,” I say, laughing lightly. “I’ll get the next one.” I kiss Gale’s cheek as I run outside with the others, getting the grill ready for some fresh meat and delicious sides for dinner. We’re long overdue for a get-together, and it feels great to be around the people I adore. I just wish Lae’zel were here. Maybe soon. With the tadpoles gone and evil has vanished for the most part, it seems life is full of normalcy and, in Karlach’s case, extra excitement since she won’t burn places down to a crisp. The question still remains: How is Astarion able to stand out in the sun?

{find my fanfic on AO3 here 👇🏻}

[amruthospital]

Discovering the Best General Hospital in Lucknow: Amrut Hospital

When it comes to healthcare, choosing the right hospital is crucial for ensuring quality treatment and care.Amrut Hospital stands out as the best general hospital  In Lucknow, offering comprehensive medical services and a commitment to patient welfare. This blog will explore the various aspects that make Amrut Hospital the premier choice for healthcare in the region.

A Legacy of Excellence

Established with the vision of providing top-notch medical care, Amrut Hospital has built a reputation for excellence over the years. The hospital is equipped with state-of-the-art facilities and advanced medical technology, ensuring that patients receive the best possible treatment. The commitment to quality healthcare is evident in every aspect of the hospital’s operations, from patient admission to discharge.

Comprehensive Medical Services

One of the key factors that position Amrut Hospital as the best general hospital in Lucknow is its wide range of medical services. The hospital offers various specialties, including:

Emergency Care: With a dedicated emergency department, Amrut Hospital ensures that patients receive immediate attention during critical situations.

Surgical Services: The hospital is equipped with advanced surgical facilities and a team of experienced surgeons specializing in various procedures.

Maternity Care: Offering comprehensive prenatal and postnatal services, Amrut Hospital prioritizes the health of mothers and newborns.

Pediatrics: With specialized pediatric care, parents can trust that their children are in safe hands.

Diagnostic Services: The hospital provides a full range of diagnostic tests, ensuring timely and accurate results for effective treatment.

This extensive array of services makes Amrut Hospital a one-stop solution for all healthcare needs.

Experienced Medical Professionals

At Amrut Hospital, patient care is delivered by a team of highly qualified and experienced medical professionals. The hospital prides itself on having doctors who are not only experts in their respective fields but also compassionate caregivers. This combination ensures that patients receive not just medical treatment but also emotional support throughout their healthcare journey.

The nursing staff at Amrut Hospital is equally commendable, providing attentive care and assistance to patients. Their dedication to patient welfare further solidifies the hospital's status as the best general hospital in Lucknow.

Patient-Centric Approach

What truly sets Amrut Hospital apart is its unwavering commitment to a patient-centric approach. The hospital understands that each patient is unique, and therefore, it tailors its services to meet individual needs. From personalized treatment plans to follow-up care, every aspect of patient interaction is designed to enhance comfort and satisfaction.

In addition, Amrut Hospital emphasizes transparent communication with patients and their families. This openness fosters trust and helps patients make informed decisions about their health.

State-of-the-Art Facilities

The infrastructure at Amrut Hospital is designed with patient comfort in mind. The hospital features modern amenities, including spacious rooms, clean environments, and advanced medical equipment. These facilities not only enhance the quality of care but also ensure that patients feel comfortable during their stay.

Moreover, the hospital's commitment to maintaining high hygiene standards further assures patients of their safety while receiving treatment.

Affordability and Accessibility

Healthcare should be accessible to everyone, and Amrut Hospital recognizes this principle. The hospital offers competitive pricing for its services without compromising on quality. Various health insurance plans are accepted, making it easier for patients to afford necessary treatments.

Additionally, Amrut Hospital's strategic location in Lucknow ensures that it is easily accessible to residents across the city. This convenience plays a significant role in its reputation as the best general hospital in Lucknow.

Community Engagement

Beyond providing medical services, Amrut Hospital actively engages with the community through health awareness programs and free health camps. These initiatives aim to educate the public about preventive healthcare measures and promote overall well-being.

By fostering a strong connection with the community, Amrut Hospital not only enhances its reputation but also contributes positively to public health outcomes in Lucknow.

Conclusion: Your Best Choice for Healthcare

In conclusion, when seeking the best general hospital in Lucknow, Amrut Hospital emerges as an unparalleled choice. With its comprehensive range of services, experienced medical professionals, patient-centric approach, state-of-the-art facilities, affordability, and community engagement efforts, it truly embodies excellence in healthcare.

Choosing Amrut Hospital means choosing quality care that prioritizes your health and well-being. Whether you require emergency services or specialized treatments, you can trust that you will receive exceptional care at this esteemed institution. Make your health a priority by opting for Amrut Hospital, where your well-being is always at the forefront of our mission.

[istherewifiinhell]

https://archive.is/M2UW1

Children Born During the War in Gaza Will Never Truly Escape It

Jan. 9, 2024, 5:01 a.m. ET

By Alice Rothchild

Dr. Rothchild is a retired obstetrician and gynecologist, an author, a filmmaker and a former assistant professor at Harvard Medical School.

After Israel began its invasion of Gaza shortly after Hamas’s attack on Oct. 7, Aya Khrais — a pregnant 26-year-old dentist, wife of a doctor and mother of a 2-year-old girl living in Gaza City — lost contact with the doctors and health services she needed for prenatal care and for managing her diabetes.

She and her family were forced to leave home and move five times to flee the constant bombings, sometimes trekking several miles on foot. When we spoke in early December, she was staying at her sister-in-law’s home in southern Gaza. Dr. Khrais was 32 weeks pregnant and sleeping on a thin mattress directly on the ground, sharing a house with 74 people from 11 families. They lacked water, adequate food, medications, electricity and the tools for basic hygiene.

For the past two months she has had no prenatal care and no vitamins and has not gained any weight. She found a private obstetrician on Dec. 10 who informed her that she had excess amniotic fluid and needed an immediate C-section. She found a private hospital with an opening on Jan. 16. The estimated cost will be $4,000; the family has lost all of its savings as well as its bombed-out home. She has no baby clothes, diapers or formula and no proper place for postpartum recovery. “I am really frightened,” she told me over WhatsApp.

Dr. Khrais’s account is far from uncommon. There are approximately 50,000 pregnant women in Gaza, all struggling with a lack of stable shelter, inadequate nutrition and polluted, salty water. Prenatal, postnatal and pediatric care are difficult to obtain. U.N. agencies have dispatched lifesaving medicines and equipment to Gaza but it’s not enough to meet the needs of the population. Extreme shortages of pain medications, antibiotics, seizure and diabetic medications and blood are common. According to the World Health Organization, of the more than 180 women delivering babies each day, 15 percent are likely to encounter complications and be unable to obtain appropriate obstetric and pediatric emergency services. All the while, the threat of injury or death from bombings and military action looms, as does unimaginable emotional trauma.

If these mothers and their children manage to survive the war, they will grapple with its effects for the rest of their lives. Health research into multiple areas of armed conflict (such as Syria, Afghanistan, Somalia and Kosovo) reveals that these kinds of conditions are linked to an increase in miscarriages, congenital abnormalities, stillbirths, preterm labor and maternal mortality. Other studies of armed conflict from 1945 to 2017 show that children exposed to war are more likely to suffer from poor living conditions and sanitation, and multigenerational poverty caused by the loss of educational and economic infrastructure...

[careforwomens]

Postpartum Depression Symptoms and Treatment Options

One of the most amazing and sometimes most difficult experiences of a parent's life is welcoming a newborn into the world. As anybody who has raised a newborn knows, they are a beautiful, happy, and exciting addition to the family, but they also require a lot of effort and may sometimes hinder mental health after childbirth.

Nobody can predict all that comes with losing so much sleep, being exhausted, having to adjust schedules, and feeling a little stressed. But when these emotions grow intense and moms find it difficult to bond with their child, lose interest in routine tasks, or even discover that they are always filled with feelings of worry, despair, or rage, this could be an indication of postpartum depression.

What is postpartum depression?

Postpartum depression is a mood condition that can strike any woman following childbirth. It can be challenging for mothers who are suffering from this to care for themselves or other people because they experience postpartum depression symptoms such as intense grief, worry, emotional highs and lows, frequent crying, exhaustion, guilt, anxiety, and weariness.

Postpartum depression impacts more than simply the birthing mother. It may also impact surrogate and adoptive parents. People go through hormonal, physical, emotional, economic, and social changes after having a baby. These changes can lead to postpartum depression symptoms.

If you feel you have postpartum depression, you are not alone. Speak with your loved ones or reach out to your healthcare professional to learn about postnatal depression treatment options.

Types of postpartum depression

The Baby Blues: Many new mothers will experience a condition known as the baby blues, in which their emotions might run high, they cry easily, and they can switch moods in an instant. This is extremely frequent and is caused by the body's fluctuating hormone levels as it recovers from pregnancy. The baby blues normally pass quickly and linger for little more than 1-2 weeks.

Postpartum depression: About 1 in 7 new parents experience postpartum depression, a far more serious disorder than the baby blues. Pregnancy increases your chances of postpartum depression by 30% if you have experienced it previously. You might feel guilty, anxious, and incapable of taking care of yourself or your child. 

You might also cry a lot, go through intense highs and lows, and get tired and frustrated easily. Mild to severe symptoms may start a week after delivery or develop progressively for up to a year. Treatment options for postnatal depression include antidepressants and psychotherapy, though symptoms may last for several months.

Postpartum psychosis: Emergency medical intervention is necessary for postpartum psychosis, a severe form of postpartum depression. Only 1 in 1,000 people will have this very uncommon illness and disturbed mental health after childbirth. Usually starting shortly after delivery, the symptoms are intense and persist anywhere from a few weeks to several months. 

Severe agitation, disorientation, depression, guilt, insomnia, paranoia, delusions, hallucinations, hyperactivity, fast speech, or manic episodes are among the symptoms. Because postpartum psychosis increases the risk of suicide and injury to the unborn child, it needs to be treated medically. Typical treatments include medication, psychotherapy, and institutionalization.

Postpartum depression symptoms

Some feel guilty about their symptoms, or they think they are horrible parents for feeling the way they do. Depression following childbirth is very common. You are not alone in your feelings, so it does not make you a horrible person.

These are the signs that you have postpartum depression:

Extreme mood swings or depression

Too much crying, 

Trouble bonding with your child

Withdrawal from friends and family

Loss of appetite or eating significantly more than usual

Insomnia, or the inability to fall asleep or too much sleep

Extreme fatigue or lack of energy

Decreased enthusiasm and interest in the things you used to enjoy 

Severe irritation and anger

Fear of not being a good mommy

Despair

Sensations of inadequacy, shame, remorse, or worthlessness

Reduced capacity for focus, clear thinking, or decision-making

Anxiety

Severe panic episodes

Feelings of hurting your child or yourself

Recurring thoughts of suicide or death

Women who experience any or all of these symptoms should consult their doctor right away or ask their healthcare professional for help. 

What causes postpartum depression?

Progesterone and estrogen levels drastically decrease following delivery, but they increase tenfold during pregnancy. Three days after delivery, these hormone levels go back to what they were before the pregnancy.

Postpartum depression is more likely to occur in addition to these biological changes because of the social and psychological changes that come with becoming a parent. These can include physical changes to your body, lack of sleep, concerns about raising your children, or adjustments to your relationships.

Postnatal depression treatment options

Postpartum depression can be treated with behavioral therapies, medication, or various forms of counseling that target interpersonal interactions or other factors in the family that may be causing the depression.

Getting medical attention as soon as possible is essential for women suffering from postpartum depression or for anyone who believes that a new mother may be suffering from it. If postpartum depression is not treated, it may persist for months or years and lead to future health problems.

Medications for anxiety, sadness, and psychosis may be used as a treatment for postpartum psychosis. Another option is to get admitted to a treatment facility for a few days until you reach stability. If this treatment fails to treat you, you can try electroconvulsive therapy (ECT).

It's a common misconception that breastfeeding prevents you from taking medication for depression, anxiety, or even psychosis. Discuss your alternatives with your healthcare professional.

How can you prevent postpartum depression?

Not all cases of postpartum depression can be avoided. Understanding postpartum symptoms and the variables that raise your risk is helpful. The following tips can help in preventing postpartum depression:

When setting goals for yourself and your child, be reasonable.

Once you go home, don't invite too many people.

Convey to people how they can assist you and ask for assistance.

If your baby is sleeping, take a nap or rest.

Exercise to burn off some energy and take a break from your home.

Instead of isolating yourself, stay in contact with your loved ones.

Spend time together and nurture your relationship with your partner.

A mix of good and bad days is to be expected.

[meriguild]

Time of Death

Von Raben’s chapel has always been warm. Despite the damp and the cold that infects the rest of the manor, creeping in like a horrible mould to even the deepest parts of the house, the chapel is a sanctuary. The air smells bittersweet, it is always bone-dry, and there is a certain warmth, indeed, that comes from the stained glass; rays of rich amber and red flood the whole of the room when the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

It has long been my favourite (I might say my only favoured) place in the house. For each night when we first arrived in this place—the first week, I should say—I slept on the chapel floor. It was not particularly comfortable, as I often only had a pallet of cushions separating me from the stone ground. I would wrap myself in two down blankets: that being, the one from my chambers, and the duvet from the nursery. The mistress had asked me on the third night why I would forgo sleeping in the queen-sized bed, carved of lush Italian mahogany, in the south wing. I told her it was because I felt God in that chapel. In truth, it is not that He was present there, only that His absence is so very stark in the rest of the house that it felt divine, at the time.

And I mean it, the rest of the manor is a Godless thing. I have said it since the beginning, and I stand by this now. The attic, particularly, is a testimony to this. It is a cavernous creature, and its old bones creak and sway in the night, in the constant rain that has overtaken the valley each and every day for decades. In the almost year we have lived here, I have never once seen a clear sky, nor a sunny morning. No, it has always been the pitter-patter of rain, the roil of the eastern wind, the fat clouds of acrid fog that it brings with it. It was, from the first day on, as it is now: dark, wet, freezing, Godless.

I’m not sure however Lady Crowe grew so infatuated with this place. Twice, in those months she was with child, she had spoken of the Corr Valley and its lofty crown jewel, set sturdy in brick and lime: The Von Raben Manor. I took these mentions to be driven by a sort of hysteria. After all, Angelica’s pregnancy had not been kind, and Heather’s birth had not been easy. She began to fall into bouts of mania in the days leading up to the spring, and for a period of time, she had experienced what the physician referred to as postnatal hysterics. These strange behaviours had apparently subsided shortly after Heather had weened from her mother, but still, Angelica spoke of travelling to this place. She convinced Lord Crowe—who in fairness is not at home often enough to care where “home” is—to buy the land, renovate the manor, and resigned herself to raise her daughter in the belly of Von Raben.

I attended, of course, for a nanny is only needed where there is a child of that sort. Unlike the rest of the Crowes’ staff, I did not immediately voice any complaints about the house or grounds. The scullery maids, however, are a trio of gossips, susceptible to folk tales and frights of fancy. They quite hastily deemed the house to be haunted, and spoke very animatedly about the topic whenever they were able, conversing in an infectious manner that made one want to continue listening.

Thusly, fables of all manners abounded rather quickly among the servants. None were quite like the others, and certainly, none were the truth. But they made merry the cold nights, if enough brandy was passed around, and created a sense of camaraderie amongst the staff. I could not say, at first, that I believed any of them. However, they made their mark on my temperament. The storytelling formally ended two hours past midnight, when the cleaning staff had to attend to their nightly duties. This was most often the time I chose to depart, for Heather was wont to take her nightly bottle thirty minutes later.

As such, I was frequently left to wander the halls of the manor alone late at night. I walked from the servants’ quarters to the kitchen, where I would warm a bottle of cow’s milk with a drop of laudanum. I would then hurry to Heather’s nursery, quiet her to sleep, and put myself to bed. All of this I did guided only by the light of a candle. These long walks through empty, darkened corridors did wonders to spark the mind. Nearly every night, I felt as though there were eyes following me as I moved and worked. I would see shadows from the corners of my sight, and my heart beat wildly with paranoia. This extended very much into my dreams, which soon became harrowing.

I didn’t remember the nightmares, not at first. I would wake with a start, but without memory of what had frightened me so. This went on for some time, worsening by the day. By wintertime, I became afraid to even lay my head on the pillow. Sleep began to elude me. I would spend the nights in the nursery at first, managing a few hours in the rocking chair beside the crib. But within a few weeks, the dreams followed me, even as I watched over the baby.

It was nigh a month to Christmastime when Angelica first noticed the weariness of my countenance. Heather had gone down for a nap some hours beforehand, so I made myself busy by delivering some freshly warmed linens to the master bedroom. The rain had frozen into snow, and the chill had sharpened its fangs to gnash at the windows and floors, nipping naked toes and reddening noses where it bit. The last thing any of us wanted was for Lady Crowe to fall ill, especially before she was to receive guests for the holidays.

Angelica had done her best to make the house feel celebratory all through December, so much so that she hadn’t made it halfway through November before she ordered us to decorate. So, throughout the winter of 1878 (which I daresay, was the last happy time among the Crowe’s household), a grand evergreen stood in the drawing room. It was a fir imported all the way from America, decorated with all sorts of baubles and lit in candles, overseen by a porcelain angel perched on the highest bough. Garlands of winter flowers and dry oranges decorated every available space, and everything that came out of the kitchen was perfectly festive. In truth, it was much like dressing a corpse in their best clothes before a funeral. The scent of simmering wassail felt akin to the sweetness of dry roses scattered over a shroud, doing their best to cover the stench of rot. But it was no doubt more pleasing than the emptiness, somehow opulent in nature, that consumed the manor in less joyful times.

The master bedroom was no exception to this decoration. Porcelain dolls dressed in carolling clothes had been unearthed from storage, and behind Angelica’s dressing screen there stood a mountain of presents for her daughter, cleverly hidden from plain view. I knocked thrice before entering and only waited a few minutes before Angelica appeared at the doors. She threw them open with an enthusiasm rare in this house, a jolly smile on her face. “My dearest Rosemarie,” she greeted, “what perfect timing you have! I was just going to ring for a maid, but you are far better suited for this task; come, come!” she grabbed at my arm as she said this, and dragged me into her bedroom with a swift tug.

“My Lady,” I managed to say, and closed the doors behind me. “I’ve just come with some warm blankets for you.”

“And I shall take them with the most gratitude. But hurry to my vanity, and tell me what you think.”

I set my load of laundry on the corner of the bed, thinking with some remorse that they would cool before Angelica made use of them. “Think of what?” I asked her, taking up my skirts as I followed her to her dressing table. Laid across it was a gown, cut of a rich scarlet taffeta that flashed gold in the light. Two sets of jewels sat on its bodice, one of pearls, and one of rubies and glittering white gems.

“I’m picking out my wardrobe for the visit,” she explained shortly, “I usually wear the pearls, but these are new, and must admit I am searching for an excuse to wear them.”

“Then wear them,” I told her. She took up the necklace, and held it against my throat. She examined it carefully, and I imagined she might have been deciding whether or not it would be gauche to receive guests wearing such jewellery. “For what occasion is this gown?”

“Christmas dinner,” she answered, and smiled at the necklace. “So I think it is appropriate to wear something so extravagant.” Her eyes moved from the rubies to my face, and her smile readily disappeared. “Oh,” she said, immediately, “Miss Heathcliffe, are you quite well? I find you…paler than is usual, I think.”

I recall forcing myself to smile, and noting the way my lips crackled when I did. “I feel very well, My Lady.”

“Are you sure?” she asked and took me by the chin. “You look as though you haven’t slept in weeks. Is it Heather? Perhaps we should clear the chimney in her room, make use of it—”

“Your daughter is sleeping well, I assure you,” I said, prying Angelica’s gentle hands from my jaw. I held them between mine, and told her with the most earnestness, “And I am quite alright.”

Angelica sniffed, whirling away from me, her hands ripped from my grasp. “You know, you’re a rotten liar,” she said. “It is, in part, why I hired you.”

“It’s nothing dire,” I said. “Only a bout of insomnia. It will pass.”

“We have plenty of laudanum in the medicine cabinet,” she told me, “You might make use of it.”

I pressed my lips together. I, at this time, was not fond of the stuff. I cannot say that I am fond of it presently, though, only that I look at it with a great deal less scrutiny than I did that night. I stared at it for several minutes as I made the Heather’s night bottle later on, weighing the boons, and eventually resigned myself to ten drops on a pressed cube of sugar. I did not partake in it until after Heather was fed and fast asleep, but sure as the stars in the sky, it lulled me into sleep, and my dreams were mellowed. In fact, I might say that was the first, last—only—night which I slept soundly in many months. But bodies are weak; the small amount of medicine wore off rather quickly, and I was forced to increase the dosage I took the longer I relied on it.

I thought this to be a miracle, nonetheless, for I was sleeping better than I ever had, so long as I ignored the grogginess I faced in the morning, and the great difficulty of waking up to tend to the baby. Still, I felt rested enough as Christmas came ‘round, and even deigned to join the other staff once more for some hearty drinking the night before. Rather than ghost stories, on that evening, we told holiday fables. An account of Krampusnacht, now twenty days past, accompanied passages of Dickens and the newfangled American publishings of Alcott.

I am among one of the only servants able to read aloud, so I did most of the storytelling on Christmas Eve. As a girl, I had attended finishing school, and was rather prideful of my literacy and animated narration. You might imagine it would bring me great joy, then, to be given such an opportunity. But as the night wore on, I found that the air about me grew cold. I shivered, as if taken by a fever, and as I spoke, I was acutely aware of the strange feeling filling my arms and legs. It was that of stiffness, not unlike the stiffness of a corpse, and it came with an aching pain. A sweat broke on my brow, and for a moment, I was very sure that I was dying. I slammed the book shut with such force that it clapped, and had to hurriedly excuse myself to tend to the baby.

Thoroughly drunk, though, I was only able to stumble back to my room, and I passed out shortly after I managed to climb into bed. It was this night that I was first faced with the visions that would then torment me. I account it to my not taking a sleeping draught that day, but I am in truth not sure more laudanum would have chased away the dreams forever. But this was the first time I saw her, truly saw her, and it filled me with such a horror. I witnessed her, in a perfect likeness, in that cavernous attic, hanging.

I had not known then that these visions would worsen, and soon, I did not only see her body. I witnessed the tying of the noose. I saw the very moment the madness overtook her, and other such monstrous things; by the time the New Year had come to pass, I had, in truth, even seen her rotting corpse in my dreams. Laudanum no longer chased away the nightmares, rather, it made them more vivid.

I can recall it, now, in perfect detail. At first, it came to me in whisps, like cotton blotting over the darkness of my dreams. A widow, nestled deep within her web, spun in haste to house all overflowing grief that came from an empty bassinet; perhaps, she had also had intents on raising her child here, but I never saw a baby. Only the chest of unused childrens’ clothes, shrouded and perfumed as if they, themselves, were a grave. Von Raben had been decidedly emptier, then. Yet to be refinished, it was all bones and creaking wood. The haunting groan and sway of the building in the wind was worse when there was no asbestos to muffle it.

The widow was once, perhaps, a fine lady. Her clothes were always well made, hand-stitched of fine silk and wool, but they were worn and ill-fitting. Split shoulder-seams, unhemmed skirts, moth-bitten stockings, and sun-bleached fabrics: everything which I witnessed spoke of a taste, once refined, that could no longer be afforded. She drank from chipped crystal, and the wine was always cheap. She was equally matched, in her disrepair, to the gaping maw of the manor, which seemed to cradle her with all the love of a mother. I wonder what happened to her—to this day, I admittedly know very little of how she came to be this way.

It is difficult, to explain my interactions with her. For when I witnessed her, she somehow understood she was being observed, an inexplicable feat that lent a distinctly voyeuristic air to my visions. Her hollow eyes would meet mine, as if she wanted to make sure I was watching. By the end, she was a dead woman on two feet, and the memory of her gaunt face is forever burned into my memory like tintype, as silvery as she was colourless, save for an ever-present smear of crimson over her mouth. It always seemed as though she had a square of blood-stained linen tucked into the edge of her bodice, ready to cough into—spitting herself to death.

And there was always a madness about her, a bitterness, a heavy hatred of something. It was confounding, an infectious anger that spun like a dark, swirling sea behind her eyes. It had a strong current, one which gripped me by my very being and dragged me under. It became suffocating, it was suffocating, it is suffocating.

I saw her everywhere. Her silhouette in the fleeting shadows at the end of a corridor; the sound of her body dropping from the rafters in the steady drip, drip, drip of snowmelt creeping in through the ceilings. I saw her in the looking glass, when lack of sleep stole away the pinkish hue of my cheeks. There were bruise-violet rings beneath my eyes, an ever-present haunting punched into my visage—God, I was starting to look just like her. I wondered if she could see me, from wherever she was, as I rotted away. Was she gladdened? Did her anger tinge into sick satisfaction when she witnessed my ruin?

Long gone were the nights passed entirely in bed. The dreams took unto them a repetitive quality, in which I would watch from the window in the attic, back pressed against cold, stained glass. She would climb up a bed, one carved of an eerily familiar Italian mahogany, and perch herself upon the highest point of the four-poster frame; crouched like an animal, a vulture watching still and silent from the dark. She would stare at me. She would grin this sickening, sharpened smile as she tied the rope about her neck, knowing I could not force my eyes to flee from her sight. And then, she would pounce. Her body morphed from the twisted carapace of illness to the still repose of death. And then, the rafter she’d tied her noose about would snap, and I would—

Wake. The clock on the stairs would croon its call of night, the toll of a death bell, one, two, three, without fail.

I began to wander throughout the nights, taking to the darkened hallways in lieu of rest. I found, at this point, that sleep did very little to invigorate me. I still woke with sandy eyes that begged to shut out the dreary light of midwinter, with aching hips and ankles and vertebrae. There formed a fiery pain in the side of my neck that flared whenever I lay down, and finding that a final reason to avoid bed, I walked. And often, I found myself back in the chapel, and I looked upon the one spot of warmth in this carrion, and I begged God for reprieve, and what would you know; he never answered.

Still, I sat often among the pews, gazing up at Christ on his cross, and I prayed like a madwoman. Sometimes, I heard the tap of house-shoes on the stone. Angelica happened upon my quiet sacrament, every now and again, and she would wait in the door of the chapel, watching me, as I watched her. Most nights, that was all she did, before she would walk back to her own chambers. I always hoped she forgot about what she saw. But I knew Angelica better than that, and it seemed that she used to know me better than anyone; so of course, one night, she decided to approach me, and pleasantly inquire, “Having trouble sleeping?”

I did not answer her immediately. I had my hands clasped before me, bearing the breath of my frenzied words— “and banish her from my sight, allow me to see this demon no more, please, God, make her leave me alone—”

Angelica placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. It halted my fervent prayer, but there was still a crazed nature about me, widening my eyes and chilling my blood into ice. I turned sharply and met her gaze, and was so thoroughly rattled to be reminded there was warmth and softness in this house. “How long has it been since last we spoke?” I asked her, tongue unbidden; for I could not recall when last I had even seen Angelica. There was not a time before the widow, not anymore, my entire waking life had become her death, her spectre, her maggot-filled—

“Four days,” Angelica said. “You’re lucky that Heather has met your path more recently than I,” she scolded, but I could not remember seeing my charge all that recently either— “You look like hell.”

“I am living in Hell,” I told her, though it was quiet and unremarkable, for she did not mention the quip. She was right, of course, and my body informed me of its current state of emaciation with a painful cramp in my gut. I had lost a grand sum of weight, in those first months of winter—a stone or two, at least, which had loosened my clothing from my skin so dramatically that my corset no longer felt restrictive. Fine silks, ill-fitted, hissed a voice in the back of my head, that same frigid whisper that taunted me before the mirror in the washroom. Eating had become a feat of great stress. The spongy texture of bread was somehow evocative of festering injuries and soft flesh, and the bones of quail suddenly seemed far too human to break apart. “You shouldn’t be awake, My Lady.”

“Nor should you. And yet, here we are, very much awake—funny, how those sorts of things work.” Angelica sat down beside me and set a package swathed in a kerchief on my lap. I thanked her, then with trembling fingers, I untied the knot of fabric to unwrap what seemed to be a handful of dried, red plums. I stared at them, and on that square of plain white, the fruit looked so distinctly like droplets of blood. Like the linen tucked into the widow’s bodice.

Suddenly, I started, wincing back from the offering of food like it, itself, would hurt me. Plums tumbled from the tops of my legs to the ground to patter round my bare feet like coins dropped from a purse. Angelica made a hissing sound through her teeth. “Rosemarie, what on earth has gotten into you?” she asked me. “When was the last time you slept? Christ, when was the last time you ate?”

“I know not.” I drew in a shuddering breath, looking down at myself. My hands were trembling, fingers twisting into the soft cotton of my nightgown. “Christmastime—I–I think, I don’t…”

“...Miss Heathcliffe, it’s nigh February. Surely, that cannot be right.”

“Maybe not,” I muttered. “Has it truly been so long? What’s the date, ma’am?” My voice had been thready. I wondered if I had spoken at all, in the past few weeks, because it felt so very foreign to do.

“Why, it’s the 28th of January, haven’t you…” Angelica took up my hands, uncaring of the way I flinched. “Rosemarie, are you losing time again?”

“Again?” I asked. I refused to meet her eyes, keeping my gaze fixed on the tops of my knees. They were scuffed—when had that happened?

Angelica let out a long sigh, aired with a resigned sort of melancholy. “I suppose that answers that.”

“Has this happened before?” I did not wait to hear her answer, for I knew what she’d do, she’d look at me with that bone-deep disappointment only a mother was able to muster, and she’d say yes. Rather than weather that shame, I dropped to my knees, and began to gather up the plums. Some had rolled under the carpet which ran straight down the cathedral’s aisle, wedged in a ripple under the rug. I took it up by the corner and flung it back to reveal the stone beneath and the three pieces of fruit hidden from view.

“Just after Boxing Day,” She told me, and I could hear the frown around her words. I tucked each plum back into the kerchief, twisted it into a loose knot, and placed it back on the pew. Then I returned to the aisle, intent to replace the rug, but gave pause. My eyes found the worn engravings of two grave-stones, cut to fit between the tiles; for corpses, deep underground, somewhere, somewhere, somewhere—

“Marigold Blaire,” I read aloud. Bereaved Wife, Beloved Mother, it said, 1655-1679. And a stone below it, half the size, Lily Blaire, 1678-1678.

The Widow, the frigid voice told me, and a chill seized my entire being. Look there, Ro, she was just your age. Gooseflesh bloomed over my arms. No third headstone commemorated a Lord Blaire. This somehow felt just, for in Marigold’s seeping anger, I had been imbued with a deep resentment for her ever-unseen husband—a man I assumed to exist, of course, though he had never shown himself to me in my dreams, not even in traces. I dropped the edge of the rug, suddenly disgusted with the chapel. Her body is in there.

No part of this home seems to escape her anger. Not even this place of divinity, which I had hitherto found to be a place of comfort, knows peace. The whole house is as sick as she was, as I am.

And so, on this hallowed this morning, I am vindicated. Knowing there is not a spot in this house that is pure, that is clean from her misery, her anger, her loss. The entire place is infected, spitting itself to death, and I do not wish to be here when Von Raben finally croaks. I refuse to let it take me, too, I refuse to become Corr Valley’s next Marigold, I refuse–I refuse–refuse—God, I’d rather burn in hell than spend my death in the belly of this beast, because I will die here, I know it, I know it.

I can no longer bear to look upon the chapel, knowing that she wastes away beneath the floor. I cannot bring myself to sleep in that bed, but I think only of the dead babe whenever I enter the nursery, and the attic—

Nowhere. Nowhere is sacred. It is as it always has been. Godless. So long as Von Raben stands, Marigold shall haunt the valley, and who’s to say I am the only one being tormented? Perhaps I am only one of many servants that had been run mad in this place. Lady Blaire lives within each of us, for all I know, and we are all infected, we are all cursed, we are all in misery. It is cruel. This is what she wants, to ensnare as many of us as she is able, and to drag us down into this cruel fate, to make us as miserable and angry as she is.

I won’t let her.

And so, as I make my final pilgrimage to that cursed attic, I smile. I smile, because I know she will lose. She shall not entrance me any longer, nor shall she take the other servants, God forbid, she will certainly not take the Crowes with her. It has become plainly apparent to me that the rot festers in the very bones of Von Raben, for that was what had ensnared Marigold’s ghost in the first place, was it not? This place is mouldering from the inside out. There is only one way to stop such an infection, so I have heard, and that is to destroy it at the source.

The candles scattered about suddenly seem far warmer. They, I know, are suited to my task, and shall purge this place of sickness better than I ever could. All I need do is tip the tapers over as I wander by; all they need do is consume. I listen to the whoosh of flames as they take their meal, devouring cotton and wood and insulation as though it is the heartiest of meat. At times, they get greedy, sinking their teeth into the hem of my nightdress and clawing their way up my body; chewing at the coil of rope in my hand. I am forced to remind them that they may not have me, not yet. I bear their burns with little consequence, now, patting out the fire as I dash to the attic.

Much of the furniture in this place has become familiar to me. The oak chest of Lily’s grave, the pile of books marked with M. Blaire on the first page, the broken rafter that bore her corpse. It looks friendlier, all lit up in gold and red, as flames run up the bones of the house to their apex. I gaze upon the stained glass window which I had become so acquainted with. It disgusts me as much as anything. I take up a book—a copy of De Martelaersspiegel, bound in green and chewed away at by moths—and hurl it at the window. The sound of its shattering fills me with a sick satisfaction, and the sudden flux of air emboldens the fire. Sweat pools on my brow, and breathing becomes difficult. But I did not come up here with the intent to breathe, so I pay it all very little mind.

I knot the rope around a rafter yet untouched by the blaze. I pray it will hold long enough. Because burning to death hurts, this, I know. But I am still, perhaps, naive enough to think that the dead do not feel pain.

I coil the other end into my very own necklace of rope. It settles against my throat.

Shards of glass bite into my feet as I teeter on the edge of the windowsill, heaving one last breath of fresh air. Blood trickles from the wounds, but I cannot feel them anymore.

The clock chimes its weary toll, one, two, three, a shaky noise in the blaze, brass cylinders wobbling in the heat.

I wonder if my grief is as strong as hers.

I tip forward.

(The dead do, indeed, feel pain.)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Reiner

Published: Jun 6, 2024

For a long time, the internet and social media have been bloated with memes, even articles, that denigrate men and most forms of traditional masculinity. Many of the people behind these posts insist that they are simply snarky barbs aimed at people with the most “privilege” who can’t take a joke.

If there was ever any doubt about the veracity of or honesty behind such a statement, a growing trend appears to pull back the veil.

Recently, the online magazine Slate ran an eye-opening story revealing that many young couples are using in vitro fertilization to ensure they conceive daughters instead of sons. In other countries, IVF is legal only as a screening measure to detect the likelihood for genetic diseases. Not in the U.S., where IVF clinics have mushroomed in number over the past two decades because prospective parents want freedom of choice.  

In one American study, white parents picked a female embryo 70 percent of the time. A 2010 study showed that American adoptive parents were 30 percent more likely to prefer girls than boys, and were willing to pay an additional $16,000 to ensure they got a girl. 

One 31-year-old woman interviewed for that piece, who works in human resources (an industry dedicated to equity and parity) said, “When I think about having a child that’s a boy, it’s almost a repulsion, like, Oh my God, no.”

Such disturbing sentiments are widespread in the U.S. and are part of a growing trend in Western cultures — popularly called Gender Disappointment. An Australian psychologist who specializes in antenatal and postnatal care conducted a Facebook survey and found that Gender Disappointment is most common in women, who unabashedly want daughters, not sons. One woman posted on a mothers’ chat board that the “vast majority” of women on “every social media (Facebook, Instagram) site or general website (Netmums, Mumsnet, Reddit)” voice this gender bias. “There are websites like ingender and genderdreaming just dedicated to Gender disappointment…some of them are straight out Boy bashing or anti boy posts.”

This invites the question: What exactly is it about having boys that seems so repellent? Many of the women in the Slate article, even mothers of boys, pointed to that sweeping, damning and vague label “toxic masculinity.” They spoke to girls’ “limitless potential” versus that of boys. Girls move out of the house earlier, achieve greater academic success, are more likely to attend and graduate from college, find jobs more readily than male peers and have higher emotional IQ.

One woman insisted that boys are “less caring toward their parents.” This woman craves a ‘“close friendship”’ with her future child that ‘“seemed possible only with a female child.”’  

It isn’t just women. Another interviewee echoed the sentiments of many younger men when she said her husband values characteristics ‘“more [stereotypically] associated with girls,”’ such as “empathy, social skills, and kindness.”

This invites the question: If these skills are so important — and they are, as schools, workplaces and relationships increasingly demand them — why can’t we simply teach them to boys?  

Such gender bias is emblematic of the selective empathy trend in which people proffer tolerance, compassion and context only for those they deem worthy. Though unintentional, this was what Rachel, who works in spaces that empower girls and women, was speaking to after reading my book.

“I had no idea so many men struggle deep down and have these anguished inner lives,” she said. “Many of us have this belief that men’s privilege insulates them from the struggles the rest of us have.”

I absolutely appreciated her sincerity and thoughtful admission. And the lack of empathy that belies many girls’ and women’s perception of boys and men is problematic. It’s maladaptive and robs males — one-half of the population — of their humanity and very real struggles.

Part of the reason this dearth of empathy exists is that too many men have abdicated their responsibilities. The men who are wounded by this brand of toxic messaging don’t speak up because they are afraid of the backlash, especially of being “canceled” or widely attacked on social media. They fear being labeled (unfairly) as extremist “Men’s Rights” apologists.

And the men who do speak up rarely do so in a productive way. Too often they shrug and pretend not to care, and instead take their grievances to the online “manosphere’s” dark corners, where they exact revenge among a receptive, misogynistic audience.   

It’s also time that women did some soul searching — that they stop and reconsider their prevailing, limiting perceptions about men and masculinity. Their own personal experiences with men don’t apply across the board, and such wanton attacks on and wholesale dismissal of boys and men only perpetuate and normalize a reactivity that’s uncritical and self-pitying.

A more productive social media post might feature a montage of boys and men with this caption: “Yes, you need to level up…you also deserve empathy and compassion along the way.” It’s not catchy, but it moves the conversation forward in a way we need it to go.

[caradoulasupport]

Matrescence - becoming a mother, no ‘bouncing back’ required

Becoming a mother for the first time is a great transition in your life, a rite-of-passage. And not only the first time, but for each time that you become a mother you transition again into a new version of yourself. Each transition is just as significant as the one before. In Western cultures, the focus is largely on the baby that has been born, however the mother is also born each time she gives birth, and this "becoming a mother" piece has largely been left out of our culture entirely. In the same way that we nurture and care for a new baby, we would really do well to remember that the new mother also needs to be nurtured and cared for during this transition.

This critical transition period is Matrescence, and was first coined by an American anthropologist in 1973, Dana Raphael. And although this was first written about in the 1970’s the concept of matrescence has gone completely unacknowledged and unexplored in the medical community, until very recently. There is still so little known about the psychological and physiological effects of becoming a mother - how it affects the brain, the endocrine system, cognition, immunity, the psyche, the microbiome, the sense of self. At a time when a woman is going through a significant rite of passage and is going through massive changes in her physical state, her status within her wider group, her emotional life, her focus, her own identity and in her relationships with everyone around her, she is expected to transition through this stage with ease.

As the author of the recently published book "Matrescence", Lucy Jones, has alluded to - each time that I write the word "matrescence" a red squiggly line immediately appears below it as if to say - this is not real, it doesn't mean anything, it's made up! But it is very real, and the only way to make it even more real is to bring more and more awareness to it, to speak about it to everyone you know. Maybe people will use the argument that they don't want to scare new mothers with horror stories, or that everyone has to go through it for themselves. But there is a huge difference between scaremongering a new mother and presenting her with a term and an explanation for how she is very likely feeling anyway. And if women were to even grow up hearing about this normal transition that happens on entering motherhood, have evidence based information on how it affects your thoughts and emotions, your hormones, your relationships, your sense of self - how much better would they go on to cope with the reality of motherhood if it happens for them? Instead of getting completely side-swiped by a wave of unknowing, of being lost and totally adrift in what we have come to understand as modern motherhood.

The sense of social isolation that can stem from women being ashamed of what they are experiencing and not realising it is actually normal can even trigger feelings of postnatal depression. There are such complicated feelings that can co-exist - having a sense of worry, disappointment, guilt, competition, frustration, anger or even fear alongside the joy of new motherhood. And it is now thought, according to reproductive psychiatrist Alexandra Sacks, who has reintroduced the concept of matrescence in a New York Times article in 2017, that just even knowing that and being aware of what matrescence is can prevent women from getting ill. If you can watch the TED talk given by Alexandra Sacks in 2018 describing matrescence, it will astonish you.

Talking about matrescence and all the parts of motherhood- including the parts that may carry shame for us - is the only way to help mothers feel less stigmatised and more normal in all aspects of becoming a mother. Of course experiencing matrescence without a support network, and without understanding the complexity of what is happening in your brain as a new mother only adds to feelings of not being enough, not being a “good” mother and a sense of failure that can lead to a diagnosis of postnatal depression.

But the question is how much of maternal mental illness is biological and how much is an understandable response to the design of modern parenthood?

One way to claim back the rite-of-passage of motherhood is to surrender to it, embrace every part of it and honour the transition that you have gone through as a mother and as parents. Planning for this postpartum period and putting the framework in place that allows you to be nurtured as the mother is fundamental to the process of matrescence. It is time to honour this monumental transition and enter into motherhood empowered, nurtured and with the confidence that the changes that are happening are normal and expected.