Hunting and Gathering

A lot of this fatherhood thing isn’t exactly what I’d expected.

I take comfort in this realization given that fatherhood probably hasn’t been what any Dad has ever expected since the very first time that one guy’s seed managed to find its way into that one girl’s ovum and then their magic mix managed to settle on a precarious perch deep within the…[er… not bowels… ummm] (aha!) cavern of her womanhood.

No, wait. Cavern is completely the wrong word. Niche? Crevasse?

Shit. Now I can’t even select appropriate verbiage. I’m doomed.

A couple weeks ago, a robin (the bird kind, not Batman’s honcho) showed up at our bedroom window. We wouldn’t have noticed if he’d just been standing on the fence (which he does a lot of the time) but for some reason, he’s been flying into the window. Not in through the window – against the window. Bonk bonk bonk. He does this until I get up out of bed (always makes me happy to do this before the sun is up) and show myself, then he realizes there’s a big animal right there and he returns to standing atop the fence a few feet away. As soon as I’m out of view, he returns to bonking against the window over and again. There’s no line of sight from there to anywhere, and he does this before we turn the lights on and we don’t have plants nor birdcages or any other thing that we think might be attractive to him in our room and we really can’t figure out why he’s kept on with this routine. It’s the avian equivalent of banging one’s head against a wall.

We closed the blinds but he kept bonking the window. What’s he trying to tell me?

Our little boy is now something like six weeks old and he’s doing pretty well. Logistics are my highest priority right now, with emotional things and mental things coming in tied for a close second. What I mean is that it’s more important to me that we make sure he gets enough to eat and isn’t too cold and has clean diapers than it is that I get whatever emotional feedback a son of this age might provide his Papi. I’d like that emotional feedback, but it’s not as important as making sure the mechanical side of things are in proper order. So I hope for positive emotional feedback from other sources, an approach that’s worked pretty well thus far. Sort of. I’ve noted that some of the feedback I get is about how things aren’t going well or how I don’t really know what I’m doing. Tell ya what, though: he’s fed and he’s clean and he’s warm. The rest of the world is secondary.

You’ll recall our adventurous hospital trip in which we learned that the mechanics were coming up short and that, though all indicators were positive, E was coming up short in the nutrition arena. We got right onto a new feeding program and turned all of that around and once things were back on the proper track, our lactation consultant started working us toward some changes that were going to make all of this ‘feeding the bambino’ stuff work even better. Cool.

I’ve noticed that everyone who works in the office where they have lactation consultants happens to be female and have wondered, occasionally, whether or not this is an industry unpopulated by men. I’d think there would be plenty of men eager to work in such a field, though I can certainly understand that a male lactation consultant might well find himself short on clients. This really does seem like the kind of thing that women would prefer to share with other women. Plus men don’t have breasts and are likely unable to offer relevant experience or insight. At least not from a primary source perspective.

Anyway, we got E back on track, went to the consultant, and learned that now that he was big and strong, he’d never let us underfeed him and that all we really had to do was make food available to him whenever he made it known that he was hungry. If the natural thing came up short, we’d supplement with formula (which we didn’t want to do initially, but we readily accepted when it came down to “this is necessary if you want to be sure he’s getting enough nutrition.”) Done. Bring on the formula.

… but before we use that formulaic stuff, we had to ask “What’s the very best formula on the market that doesn’t have weird ingredients nor BGH nor GMOs and isn’t made by the CIA, doesn’t call for fracking nor clearcutting and is exactly the stuff that Adam and Eve would have chosen if their own natural supply had been in question?”

We realize that Adam and Eve were receiving regular visits and consultations from a guy who could totally manipulate the system such that their natural supply would never be found lacking. We don’t live where they lived, though, so perhaps that’s why we don’t have the same benefactor standing at the ready.

We were told that the difference between all of the various formulas on the market is exactly the same as the difference between Coke and Pepsi. While I’m wondering if that’s the difference between aspartame and high fructose corn syrup, the lactation consultant fills me in: They’re all the same and they’re all fabulous and anyone with half a brain would happily provide this powdery mix to the single most important person in the history of everything. Oh. Simple.

With this in mind, my fabulous bride thought it’d be smart to have a look into the various formulae available for feeding our precious bambino. After all, there wouldn’t be so many from which to choose if there weren’t some differences that well informed people such as we’d like to think ourselves would want to know about. The first among the criteria was that we wanted something as close to organic as possible, so she looked at those brands thusly promoted. What she found didn’t exactly fill us with confidence.

And that robin keeps bonking against the window.

That is, there are 3 major brands that make organic formula:

Nature's One - their formula has brown rice sugar as sweetener - research found that this organic mix contains measurable levels of arsenic in it. Remembering that arsenic has enjoyed popularity among those who wish to harm others by ensuring its ingestion, this seemed like a nasty thing to be giving our little one. To their credit, since the discovery, the company reworked their product to ‘address the arsenic concerns.’ However, in that announcement, the company stated that the changes made apply only to its formula with certain use-by-dates:

“When we tested the new versions of the two dairy formulas, the levels were either undetectable or nearly so. The company says its new formulation has use-by dates of January 2014 (Dairy with DHA & ARA), July 2015 (Dairy), or later.” (Emphasis added.)

So for us to use this one, we’ll need to keep track of what the use-by dates are so that we can avoid feeding this nasty arsenic stuff to E. My uninformed brain thinks it’d make sense to pull affected product from the market rather than just cycle it through the consumer base, but that’s why I’m not given the responsibility of making such decisions on behalf of delicate infants.

Similac enjoys a substantial share in the market, which makes it seem like it must be pretty good. Unfortunately (again, by my own feeble reasoning), this one’s sweetened with sucrose, which gives it a much sweeter taste than some of its competitors (and probably makes it a lot more popular with the kiddos). Sucrose is worse for tooth enamel than other sugars (not that E has any teeth yet) and the concern is that this extra sweetness will lead the kids who rely on it to spurn other, possibly less sweet, formulae. Some studies suggest that this might lead to overeating, which can lead to unduly rapid weight gain, which has reliably been a statistical predictor of childhood obesity. This doesn’t sound like the one we want, either.

Earth's Best. Now here’s a promising name for baby formula. Who wouldn’t want the very best thing available for their bundle of joy? This one, D found, uses some process known as “the hexane method” to extract DHA and ARA (these are good things that are found in breast milk) from algae and soil fungus. But hexane is a neurotoxin (uncool), a by-product of gasoline in petroleum and is considered a hazardous air pollutant by the EPA.

So among the readily available and highly touted “organic” baby formulas found on drugstore shelves, each appears to contain (or be influenced by) some really hideous thing that we’re quite certain comes up short in our standards for E. I might eat that stuff and not worry so much, but what’s good enough for me isn’t nearly good enough for the boy.

Bonk goes the robin. Bonk bonk.

Then D found another brand: Holle. Of course, this one’s made in Germany, which is the country that maintains the highest standards for food anywhere on Earth. If we were to buy this, it’d cost less than the stuff we can get at the corner pharmacy, even if you include the overseas postage. This is the obvious choice. As fate would have it, though, Holle isn’t approved by the US FDA (I wonder why that is…) and thus, is unavailable in the states. Not only that, but the smart Germans who sell the stuff have already gotten into trouble for sending it over to American parents who’d like to take advantage of Germany’s high standards for baby formula.

This means that unless you figure out a way to circumvent the rules that you can’t get it over here. You’d have to have some pretty sweet connections overseas to make this happen. Or you’d have to check out some of the online forums where other dedicated parents share information.

We shared this info with others who pay attention to things that babies are frequently exposed to here in the US and our friend Andy mentioned that he’d recently been researching HB3162 that has to do with toxic stuff and that he found that Aveeno Baby Calming Comfort Bath, Breck Kids 2-in-1 Shampoo, Disney Princess Bubble Bath, and Johnson’s Baby Shampoo all contain formaldehyde. Last I knew, this stuff had proven itself useful for preserving bodies which are no longer in use. We certainly want to keep the bambino around for as long as possible, but we weren’t thinking of making this happen through the use of preservatives and so we’ve added this items to the list of things we won’t be using.

Bonk.

Before he was born, we talked about what we were concerned about in terms of raising a child in the US. We’d be concerned about things no matter where we were raising a child, but we’re doing it here, so the conversation is really only relevant as it applies to the states. Don’t go thinking we’re picking on the US of A just for kicks – we’re looking into what’s relevant based on where and when we live. That’s all.

Right now there’s a big debate here in Portland about whether or not the city should add fluoride to its water supply. Those in favor assert that this will reduce what they’re calling an epidemic of bad teeth, especially for kids whose families might not be able to afford proper dental care. Aside from me thinking that if dental (and medical) care were available to everyone at no out of pocket cost, this would be less of a hot topic, I’m personally unswayed by the assertions that fluoride is good for everyone. I think it’s good for some of us but not for all of us. I’m not opening this for debate and I don’t need to know what you think about it – you won’t change my mind and I won’t change yours. It’s up for a vote. Cast your ballot and let’s be done with it.

Collective bonking. We're all bonking the window now.

The Portland fluoride thing doesn’t really matter in our household, because the water that comes through the pipes in our house isn’t from Portland. It’s from the Tualatin Valley Water District, and they’ve been adding fluoride to the stuff for a while now. This means that, because we don’t want E to drink fluoridated water (he doesn’t have any teeth anyway), we have to buy bottled water… which is a concept we despise in the first place.

In the baby aisle at the store, next to the organic formulas containing arsenic or potentially addictive sweeteners, and those processed by hexane are nice big jugs of water specifically intended for use in making baby formula. Bravo! Someone’s taking initiative. But wait.

I pick up a jug and have a quick look at the label, thinking it ought to say something like “completely pure unadulterated water from a really clean source carefully distilled in a sterile environment by people who believe in health first and profits second” but instead find that they’ve added minerals to it. Maybe that’s okay. Then I notice that they’ve added stuff to improve the flavor of the water. Because, apparently, the sweeteners in the formula we’re supposed to add to this water don’t make the flavor yummy enough.

Now, this is absurd. I can assure you [and the makers of flavor enhanced water and formula that contains weird sweeteners or is processed with weird stuff or has the potential to be essentially addictive and lead to an increased likelihood of obesity] that our little boy doesn’t need any of that to be motivated to eat when he’s hungry.

What he needs is pure water and formula that’s made by people whose standards are guided by the notion that people – especially those unable to make good choices for themselves – deserve access to nourishment that doesn’t include toxins.

This seems really simple. Obvious.

My primary concern about raising this boy remains related to the quality of what we loosely refer to as “food” in this country. And given how complex it’s been to secure only two items – water and baby formula – that we can feel good about providing our little one, I’m not filled with confidence when I think about how we’ll go about introducing him to things like fruit and vegetables.

Something tells me this is going to become harder instead of easier.

Bonk. And bonk.

I’d never have guessed that I might consider moving to another country solely based on food quality. But here I am.

Cameron