Agghoo!

This is our new favorite word. It has to be said with the right amount of enthusiasm, with lots of spit bubbles and rolling in the back of the throat. You can get it almost bang on if you also throw in some super excited arm and leg shaking. Almost I say, because try as you may, you cannot say it the way its creator N does.

Agghoo is our new discovery. We are saying Agghoo for everything nice - the orange flowers on the pillows, the bookshelves with their zillion colours, the bed post, the changing mat, the TV and the black and white drawings on the sofa. And sometimes when we are immensely happy, we even say it, with a shy smile, to mum and dad.

And that's when the fun starts, when mum and dad go Agghoo Agghoo throughout the weekend!

My cup runneth over

There is only one feeling in this world which makes you dissolve in delight. And that is when your baby opens his eyes in the morning, looks at you, recognises you, and smiles his biggest smile for you. What happens to you when you are hit by the impact of that smile is indescribable. All I can say is I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. It is now two months since N was born. The sun is out, trees have new leaves and pretty new flowers. And my eyes are looking at the most beautiful little baby. My life is full of kisses and cuddles and cooing and shy giggles and excited hand and leg movements and squeals of delight! Wouldn't trade it for the world! :-)

The F word

It is used in hushed tones in the circles that I move in these days - best avoided, used with caution and with almost an apology, lest you think the speaker is being unkind or even rude. I am referring to the much feared, much maligned taboo, formula milk.

The NHS has its own agenda and preaches the practise of breastfeeding like gospel. I have nothing against breastfeeding, I am appalled at the blatant discrimination against mothers who chose not to, for whatever reason, and against babies who are formula fed.

I say that this discrimination exists because I have been on both ends of the divide. I started out as a new mother, desperate to get breastfeeding going, but failing miserably. I got some help from the health service but soon they decided that it was a lost cause. The body language, the tone of voice, the choice of words left me and my family feeling that we had no hope in hell. Suddenly we became just another number in their registers waiting to be ticked off.

That's when, desperate and in tears, I called the National Childbirth Trust's breastfeeding helpline. And yes, I pressed the panic button. What that chat with the breastfeeding counsellor did for me that night I can never forget. She gave me hope, she gave me tips, she told me not to give up, she said I could do it if I was determined enough - she said it is never a lost cause - and that is what I guess I needed to hear.

Next morning, A and I packed little N into the car seat and drove to the baby cafe. There, experienced breastfeeding counsellors help struggling new mums get the technique right. And that morning, on the 10th day after his birth, N had his first full meal from the breast. I cried in joy and relief as other young mums cheered us.

Now at the weekly meetings with the health service N and I are extolled as an example of how well a baby fed only on breastmilk does. Our health visitor knows not only our names but also our address. Why she even hugs us! We are no longer just a number in the register.

I wish it didn't have to be like this. Why were we left to fend for ourselves? Why did the health service give up on us when we needed them the most? What if I hadn't called the NCT? How many other new mums just give up in desperation and pain?

And what about those who just cannot breastfeed? Why are we made to feel so horribly wrong if we give formula to our babies? Why does everyone behave as if you are letting your child down in some unspeakable ways if you are unable to breastfeed?

Just another one of the innumerable ways in which women are made to feel smaller, lesser, guiltier. And it is not even accounted for as discrimination.