WIC: A Story of Redemption

Our little family has received WIC assistance since my 8th month of pregnancy with Natalie. My experience at Vons today compelled me to share a bit about the program. To catch some of you up to speed:

"WIC is the Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children, a 100% federally funded program providing nutritious food (via prescriptive checks), individual counseling and nutrition education, breastfeeding promotion and support, and referrals to other needed services to at-risk, low- to moderate-income (up to 185% of the federal poverty level) women and children up to the age of five."

It's kind of misunderstood, a bit labor intensive to sustain and a huge tax commitment. Now, admission to being a recipient of public subsidies comes with a certain risk of posing a secretly-discussed question among your family and friends: why them? Isn't that for the perennially unemployed, The Welfare class, some "hidden econom[y] in the world of the low-wage worker"? I don't pretend that I understand poverty or the life-long experience of hand-to-mouth living that roughly 30% of the working, American public experiences. Don't fear! This won't be an editorial titled "My Life Relating to the Lower Class". It's just meant to be informative because the help to our family that WIC has given has been tremendous.
I had no idea about the program beyond seeing signs posted in the local corner markets I frequented while living in Minneapolis: "WIC Accepted Here". Nate's Aunt Betty, a former public health nurse in Wisconsin, brought it to my attention when I was 8 months pregnant with Natalie. It was our combined income and my pregnancy status (which poses a nutritional need that WIC can meet) that made me eligible for the program. I met with a wonderful representative, Jan, in the county office where my mom now works, who kindly and, very explicitly, explained to me the process of redeeming food with WIC coupons. I would qualify for 'pregnant mom' food for the duration of my pregnancy, and then for 'full-breastfeeding' food until the baby was 6 months, which is when its assumed you introduce solid food. I continued to qualify until Natalie was 1 year. She qualifies until she's 5 (repeated with Micah). I commit to infrequent consultations with the WIC staff (now in San Diego) about pregnancy nutrition, breastfeeding (including an at-home inservice complete with prosthetic boobie), and infant/child nutrition. In return I receive 'coupons' with items listed that I may redeem, free of charge, at the grocery store.
Here's a rough sketch to illustrate WIC Redemption at the grocery store. I decide how much of the cashier's time I feel like requiring at check out and pick out coupons accordingly (Part I of labor-intensive Redemption). "Well, we need cheese and eggs, not necessarily another gallon of milk yet, but use it or lose it. So, that's one coupon. I'm already here, so I'll get the black beans and peanut butter. Cereal is about the only thing I'm truly hungry for (in my 4-6th months) so I can't wait to get those. Three coupons. I hope there's no big line behind me." I spend several minutes in front of each item (brands and sizes down to the ounce outlined in a pamphlet) to make sure I am abiding by the fairly strict product guidelines (juice has to say '120% Vitamin C' on the front label, or the bread can only say 100% whole wheat, or the peanut butter can't have added sugar). I usually pick out a few more non-WIC groceries because I just can't bring myself to go for a out-of-pocket-free trip to the grocery store. But, I usually get things in bulk at another store because its cheaper. What to get here? I better make it look a bit healthy. Whole wheat crackers? Cottage cheese? That's should take their eyes off of the diet Cherry Pepsi that is my Achilles heel, especially when I need a quick comfort food as I head out the door for work at 7:30pm. Oh, and Nate and I love those Vlasic Kosher dills. Okay, I'm ready. My heart pounds as I think of getting in line with those coupons (Part II of labor-intensive Redemption) because a) many cashiers abhor the Redemption process, b) people who get in line behind me with 2 items seem to sigh (which I doubt they are) with every beep of the scan, which often requires a glance at a three-ring binder, and c) I just feel weird about getting food for free (relatively speaking, but for the sake of this post I'll leave it at that). If I've made a mistake, which seems to happen each trip despite my meticulous efforts to the contrary, some cashiers will silently but, still efficiently, continue to check out the goods and rectify my error. Some will tell me, in a word-for-word expository from the WIC pamphlet, exactly what I do and don't 'get', and some are kind and understanding. This brings me to the impetus for this post in the first place.
I have redeemed WIC coupons in many locations. Most of them have been chain grocery stores, but among those I have found one, a drive 14 miles round trip and out of my way, for the service of the cashiers: the Vons in Clairemont. Despite my coupons, my baffling repetition of errors, and their requirements to check out my groceries, I have almost never been met with unkindness, judgmental eyes, silent treatment, or even fake courtesy. People who work at this massive store are always friendly and understanding. Again, I don't pretend to have scoured the depths of humiliation that most 'have nots' survive because they always seem to be required to grovel, but this collective countenance of acceptance and understanding makes an astounding difference in this experience of Redemption. I often leave trying to hold back tears of relief at being treated with some freaking slack. I find myself making some self-deprecating comment about the work I'm adding to their already-busy job, orI go overboard with my gratitude (not really possible with cashiers), but will come to find that many cashiers were WIC recipients themselves, and not always as adults but as children. So imagine how gripped my heart was to hear today's cashier (after leaving the till to go retrieve the correct 64oz. bottle of juice for me) recall her foster mom shopping for food, for 5 kids, with WIC coupons and being made to cry by a cashier (in front of at least one kid, obviously), for whatever way the mom tripped up that person's day. Here she is with a steady job, a great attitude and compassion to dole out. I felt for the first time in a long time what this program truly is: more then just picking up free groceries it's temporary assistance that ensures that some of my kids' food will be healthy and accessible. It has provided more information about nutrition and more encouragement about breast feeding than all providers I've seen, for both kids, combined.
So, if you're a cashier keep the smiles and the positive energy. If you get behind some coupon-wielding mom who may feel even a fraction of the way I do when in line, read the tabloids for a few more minutes as you wait to pay for your (probably melting) ice cream. By the way, WIC coupons now include a cash stipend towards fresh fruits and veggies, organic included. I think many of us can appreciate that on a certain, let's say familial, level.

Cross(road) Reference

The books of California and Minnesota written for the Weaver Olsons were pretty well researched by the time our little family arrived in San Diego in 2008. Though the Minnesota Trail has survived primarily as a hepcat foot path, the ruts become much more established when we throw in the journeys of the Olson family. Preachers, students and nomads alike have volleyed between the forces of the Midwest and West coast poles.
Our little family grew into a bigger little family after we moved. Micah is 100% Californian for all intent and purpose (though he doesn't know it yet). We've grown very attached to our little apartment, have found places we like to buy food and parks where we like to play. Nate has gotten to know his colleagues in Latin American Studies as well as the history department. He can bike to school and be home within 20 minutes. Our church is 4 blocks away, and our Ethie (Blue Car) is 12 miles (on a Sunday). We become journeymen despite the transient nature of our lives.
Nate will finish his Master's degree in Latin American Studies this June. He has applied for Ph.D. studies in history with a Latin American Studies emphasis for the fall of 2010. He was accepted at the University of Minnesota, was not admitted to UW Madison (his first choice), and we suspect will be admitted to the history program at UC San Diego. (We have yet to hear officially.) Now that the door has opened for us to return to Minnesota (nullifying most aspects of anything the University of Iowa would have to offer, from which we have yet to hear), it seems that we will once again be deciding to extend our time in California another half decade, or make a move to Minnesota that, as far as we can tell, would be the beginnings of establishing roots in a place we long to be, for a long time. Would it be that simple.
We've done the following on several scales: made pro/con lists, made the decision based on sentiment, logic, prayers (past and current), money, made the decision about the kid's futures, made it based on family, on friends, on spiritual, emotional and physical needs, what would be best for Nathan, best for Kimberly, best for our little family, best for our big family, best for our careers, best for our vision of what we would like our lives to look like, best for what we think God has designed us to do, made the decision based on housing costs, moving costs, access to fresh produce all year, where we can hear free outdoor concerts, which place has the most trees, and the fewest mean people.
When we decide (or when it is decided for us) on which place affords us all these things equally we'll probably buy some furniture and then buy a cat so we can name that cat.

Micah-Moo

Our Little Bear. I wanted to start this post by calling him our miracle baby, but then reflected that there are miraculous things about both of the kids (there's that parent-of-two equity). But I will say he's our beat-the-odds kid, hands down. He made it to 42 weeks' gestation and was born on the day that my dad, his Dawdi, would have turned 70 years old, August 11, 2009. Micah lost weight so quickly in the hospital that the NPs wanted us to supplement my milk with formula (which we kindly declined, with the promise of a next-day clinic visit), and is now off the charts for weight, height and noggin size (good thing we're not trying to get him on private insurance). A trip to the clinic, the day after we got home from the hospital, revealed to our pediatric NP, Raechelle, that he hadn't voided except for a sprinkle that morning, nor had he pooped since he was delivered. She also measured his heart rate at 92 bpm, extremely low for a newborn (120 and higher is better). She said we should put a tissue over the area on the diaper where he pees (because the disposables are so absorbent we could miss any moisture), and then asked that we call her as soon as we saw evidence of urination. When she called us at 9:45pm (on a Friday) to say that she would like us to take him in to the emergency room, Nate checked his diaper one more time (while I was on the phone with her) and it was soaked. Whew. The next day (2nd day home from the hospital) we took him back to the clinic to see the pediatrician for his heart, and she wanted a blood sample to test for certain antigens that can sometimes lower a newborn's heart rate. Nate took Micah to have that done (being that it had to be a venipuncture on a 6-day-old baby, I wouldn't have been able to stand it). His 7th day home, we went back to the clinic (by now he was peeing and pooping normally) Raechelle checked his HR: 130 bpm. She checked it again. 130 bpm! She went and got another stethoscope. 130 bpm! Barely a week old. As his Mama, I think he needed about 2-3 more days to finish whatever it is babies do in the womb. Due dates are not an exact science. When I went in for the induction, my body wasn't even close to being labor ready. I guess Micah isn't interested in being forced to do anything. Right now, that's endearing. We're just thankful he's so healthy.
He is now 2 1/2 months old, confident and cool. He knew how to latch and drink milk the first time they put him to my breast. When he fusses, it's because something needs to be different, and when the need is met he's back to his cool self. He loves to watch Natalie dance around, will smile and sing if you engage him and is just starting to laugh.
Because I made the herculean effort of training him to be content in the Moby-wrap sling we use, it is now the best way to lull him to sleep. I love it, of course, because it's like a 30-minute hug between baby and Mama. He also sleeps so well at night. There are always a few sleep exceptions (like his tag-teaming with Natalie during nap time), but Nate and I, due to experience and/or having a better sleeper in Micah, have very few sleep complaints (except for "not enough").
Slowly, the experience of having two children is turning from being simply busy to an engagement of 4 people as a family. We all sit at the table when 3 of us eat, we often are traveling in the car together or as a mobile unit with the stroller, and have started incorporating everyone in household routines (Micah's job is to sit in his chair and coo).
Our kids are great companions and we love the new dynamic of being a family of 4.

The Learning Curve

I write this entry with the quiet delight of someone who knows very well that they should be doing one of several decidedly more responsible activities at the moment, but isn't. Kimberly and Ann (who generously agreed to spend the week in a two-bedroom apartment in late August with two other adults, a toddler, and a newborn babe) have gone out to get us a bigger backpack so that we can accommodate the gear of two children. They have done this in part because it needed doing, and partly to leave me in peace to get some other work done. Instead, I find myself rereading favorite sections from A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson, which I was only reading for a moment while someone else was on the computer, but continued reading long after the aforementioned person had vacated the computer and, in fact, had already left the apartment. Just moments ago I got up with a sigh, determined to get to work, but secretly wondering if the Pacific Crest Trail had a website, when I hooked a sudden detour through my children's rooms. My children. Both of them are napping, stripped down to their diaper covers. Natalie is on her belly with her bangkick tucked just enough around her legs to satisfy her. Micah's little belly is heaving away, and his flailing arms are finally trapped and swaddled just enough to keep them quiet, but to leave the rest of him bare. Fans wurr.

I'm somewhat amazed at my moment of quiet, because I never imagined I would find such a space again for quite some time, certainly not so soon. Admittedly, I owe it mostly to Kimberly and Ann's generosity, and upon the pleasantly surprising realization that both kids will sometimes sleep at the same time, like the conjunction of planets. But I also think it is because we are already starting to figure out how to do this, how to parent two children and still take care of ourselves. Sure, lots of folks have figured all of this out before us, but it feels good that we are figuring it out for ourselves.

Negotiations

Natalie has always eaten well. For the most part, she's able to eat the food we prepare for ourselves. She still probably eats better than we do, given our intentions to try and diversify her diet a bit. There are some foods, though, that take some coercion. For example, getting her to eat food higher in iron (meat) isn't the tastiest in her opinion, so we try to mix it with things that hide a bit of the taste (yogurt, avocado). Our tactic is to feed her the mix while simultaneously giving her a tasty food (fruit, pasta, cheese) to eat with her hands as a means of distraction. She's put up with it well, but we have learned where we need to extend to her the same respect. The other day her finger food consisted of pasta shells and blueberries. As I waited with a spoonful of protein-dense blah, she tenaciously put the blueberry inside the pasta shell and lifted the shell to her mouth to eat the whole ensemble. Doing this one handed, she had amazing dexterity. Blueberries fell, pasta was dropped, but each time she succeeded. Mama simply had to wait. Between. Every. Bite.

Cha-kick

Wednesday is the day we usually shop for groceries at Henry's. As we made our list for the most recent trip, Natalie went to the kitchen, pointed and said, "Cha-kick." I've learned this word for chocolate often means anything that comes out of the freezer. I said, "What chocolate?" It would have been impossible for her to have learned of the chocolate Mochi Nate just bought. So, she repeats herself, and much slower so that Mama can catch up. "Chaaa-kiiiick." "Sweetie, there's no chocolate." Probably a blatant lie. Natalie proceeds to walk over to me, point at my lap where our growing list is, and says, again, "Cha-kick." I gave a look to Nate, who mirrored my "Is this for real?" eyes. So, I wrote down 'chocolate' on our list. Natalie reaches for the pen, so I showed her the list and I asked her if what I wrote was correct. She tapped 'chocolate' a couple of times with the pen, and seemed to be satisfied.

Familymoon

For our honeymoon, Nate and I went to the west coast of British Columbia. It seemed to usher in a time of hibernation that following winter where we spent a lot of time learning how to start being married, and we loved it. Before Natalie was born (the weekend of her due date, in fact) Nate and I traveled through a snow storm to the quaint little town of Stokholm, WI, where we spent the day browsing stores, sang carols with a Santa that had trouble staying warm, and stayed at a lovely bed and breakfast during the town's Christmas celebration weekend (a Babymooon, as it were). Natalie's birth rang in the Christmas season and we once again settled in for a long, winter's hiding as we learned about being a family. Boy, did we need it.
The time between Nate returning from Bolivia and the still-pending birth of our newest baby didn't seem promising for any such get-away, especially one involving a toddler. But, we have been pleasantly surprised and quick to embrace opportunities close to home that have kept the three of us enjoyably busy and together. Many of our daily activities involve errands for things we feel will help the baby feel at home, help Natalie feel included, and that will help Mama get through labor and post partum recovery. (I think Nate prides himself on just needing a change of underwear and a toothbrush for the hospital stay; these are things he, of course, already has.) We have also taken advantage of free passes to the Birch Aquarium at Scripps, took a morning at the beach, and celebrated Ethan's birthday in L.A. (which included babysitting so both Nate and I could go to a show with Ethan, Erin and Ian). We are all getting a lot of rest, love strolling to the park here at Mesa where Mama and Papa get to visit as much as Natalie does, and we enjoy time in our apartment watching Natalie T.V. In the evenings Nate and I have re-discovered a few luxuries that come with extra time and a spirit of celebration, including (but not limited to) eating Chinese take-out while watching a favorite show online, reading aloud to each other (Bill Bryson is often a good choice for this), or just finishing up baby-prep tasks that are more difficult to do with a curious little girl around to help. Nate even made it to join Ethan for Quiz Night at Shakespeare's (Ethan's favorite state-side pub).
All these things have brought more growth and bonding to our 3-person family on the eve of this new baby's birth. We've learned again and again that these changes don't mean the other things disappear forever. The are simply made better for it.