I handle jet lag well upon arrival in the US. We function during the day, despite waking up at 3 am for several days. By the second morning the kids already woke at 7:30. The return is different. Typically we are all awake at night the first week, then I suffer for an additional week. It’s not just the jetlag; it’s having to jump back into the summer “routine.” I find myself not remembering things that happened during that first week at home. And my husband complains about “secondary jet lag” from everyone else’s night-wakings.
We arrived yesterday afternoon. My 7yo then slept all night, getting up in time for my husband to take him to camp. Go figure. My 4yo slept for a while then lay quietly with her head on my lap during the wee hours, and then slept again from 4am to 1:00 PM. I slept only from 6:30 to 10:30 am.
I am determined to beat the jet lag this time. I have to order school books, prepare sheva brachot, and plan a vacation, while keeping the house running with everyone home all day. I read that when fatigue hits, one should drink coffee and take a nap until the caffeine kicks in. I plan to try this approach, but am open to other suggestions.
The 9th of the Jewish month of Av, known as Tisha B’Av, commemorates the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. On this most mournful day of the year, Jews are required to fast from sunset until nightfall the following day (August 9-10, 2008).
(On a side note, most rabbinic opinions exempt pregnant and nursing women from fasting on the four minor fast days. My husband was surprised to learn that his colleague’s wife, nursing a young baby, was fasting on the 17th of Tammuz.)
Before Yom Kippur last year, I blogged about the opinion of our synagogue’s rabbi requiring pregnant and nursing women to eat and drink in “shiurim” instead of fasting completely on Tisha b’Av and Yom Kippur. “Shiurim” are small quantities of food and liquid eaten at regular intervals. The quantities are small enough so that technically, the woman is still considered to be fasting.
Last year’s post also gives tips to help nursing mothers and babies get through the fast safely.
This year, Rabbi Yuval Cherlow has ruled that barring special circumstances, pregnant and nursing women must fast on Tisha b’Av. Ynet reports:
The Halacha (Jewish law) holds no all-inclusive exemption for pregnant women or those breastfeeding. Each case must be assessed separately.
This is the rule decided upon by the head of the Petach Tikva Hesder Yeshiva Rabbi Yuval Sherlow, right before Tisha B’Av.
In the Halachic sentence [ruling] published in the yeshiva’s website, Rabbi Cherlow negates a general dismissal [exemption] and instead, calls upon women in these situations to better prepare themselves for fasting. The rabbi explained that “the assumption that nowadays women are weaker than they were in the past is not necessar[il]y so, and the medical logic says that in light of the nutrition and medicine that we live with today, the situation is exactly the opposite.”
Thus, he disputes the lenient Halachic position stating that women in these situations must be exempt from fasting in all cases, a stance supported in the recent years by popular rabbis of the religious-Zionist persuasion.
In the book that was recently published by doctor and Rabbi Nachum Rabinowitz, the head of the Ma’ale Adumim Hesder Yeshiva, a different view is presented.
According to this Ynet article (Hebrew) about Rabbi Rabinowitz’s book, women after the fifth month of pregnancy and nursing mothers “should not fast” on Tisha b’Av. The ruling does not apply to Yom Kippur.
Robin, this is for you. In my previous post I mentioned having brought one suitcase for our two-week trip to New York. It weighed 21 kg (about 45 lbs) and contained everything for the four of us, in addition to our hand luggage (also as light as possible).
I knew I would be staying at my sister’s and brother’s homes. They have washing machines, so pajamas, 3-4 days worth of lightweight clothes, and Shabbat outfits (two each), sufficed. I added bathing suits and swim floats, and a duffel bag for the return trip. I didn’t shlep toothpaste or shampoo, umbrellas or jackets. My daughter and I each took one additional pair of shoes; the younger children took none. In an emergency, we could easily buy something. And I didn’t even end up wearing everything. Two booster seats and a stroller were a royal pain but didn’t count in the weight.
Another reason to pack light is to save room for the return. Besides books for the children and the book club, the seats and the stroller, I’m taking a guitar for my son and an air mattress–we hope to try camping again.
The woman ahead of us in line for luggage inspection at Ben Gurion Airport was taking a long time. A man from a second line that fed into ours, who had arrived long after us, made his way to the front and tried to get his items through. I told him that we were next. He replied that he had paid triple for business class and was entitled to go first. I responded that El Al should be the one to decide, but let it go. The woman behind me, who had an earlier flight, confronted him in an Italian accent. Finally a supervisor noticed his aggressive behavior and came over. The only words I caught from their conversation were, “I am the ganenet and I say . . .” So much for business class privileges.
Afterward I went to check in. I saw an express check-in line with two bored ticket agents, and asked whether we could check in there. “No, this is only for passengers who printed out their boarding passes.” Well, I had the boarding passes–I was so proud of myself. They complimented me on taking only one suitcase, weighing 21 kilograms, for four people.
The plane left only half an hour late, early by El Al standards. What a difference a year makes, when it comes to travelling with small children. My 4-year-old sat quietly when she wasn’t sleeping. Last year I walked around with her much of the time.
About an hour in, there was an ominous announcement from the public address system: “If there is a doctor on the plane, please identify yourself to a crew member.” Later I saw a doctor in the aisle treating the patient. Instead of being anxious to get to New York, I found myself hoping that they would stop and take her to the hospital. A stewardess told me that they had sent her vital statistics to Israel, and had been advised to keep flying. But then we got the announcement about an unscheduled stop in Shannon, Ireland, to take the passenger to the hospital. They said she had had a heart attack.
A doctor and paramedics boarded the plane in Shannon. After interviewing the Israeli doctor and examining the patient, the doctors stood in the aisle next to me while the paramedics removed her from the plane. “This is going to be the hardest part,” the Irish doctor informed us. “These aisles are narrow. We used to remove passengers when the Concord stopped through here, where the aisles are even narrower.” He told the Israeli doctor that El Al ought to give him a first-class seat for the rest of the flight. We all chuckled. I asked the Israeli doctor his specialty; he is a heart surgeon.
Shannon is a small town, but the quiet airport with wide runways, near the Atlantic coast, is a frequent stopping point for flights with ill passengers. Patients are then brought to the hospital in nearby Limerick. Crowded Heathrow had refused to let our flight land. A crew member disembarked with the patient, who seemed alert and in good spirits. The doctor confirmed that she should be fine.
Then we waited. The doctor had said that her luggage would have to be removed from the hold for security reasons. I don’t know if it was, but by the time we took off our arrival had been delayed by over three hours. My sister had planned to meet us, but I wasn’t sure that extended to a 3am arrival time. When we landed I called her cell phone to no reply. I figured that if she didn’t come we would hang around until a normal hour. But she was there waiting for us. My experience raising a large without my extended family makes me truly appreciate my siblings. Who else would pick me up from the airport in the middle of the night?
In response to my post on the Modiin Mall story, Frumhouse described how she has handled nursing in public. Therapy Doc left the following comment:
The problem is the cringe factor, and ignoring that is ignoring anything that makes people cringe. If you know you’re making someone cringe, whaddaya do? Make ‘em suffer? Hit ‘em over the head with your ideas? Or move away. You can say that
nobody’s forcing anyone to watch, but face it, the baby’s the draw. Maybe a sign over the breast that says, Look away if this (arrow down) makes you uncomfortable?
My response to TD got too long, so I decided to post it here.
It disturbs me to see nursing associated with “hitting someone over the head” or causing suffering. Breastfeeding is a fundamentally nurturing activity. The comment implies that nursing a baby in public is some kind of political statement. While unfortunately this attitude contains a grain of truth in today’s culture, it’s beside the point.
For some women, having to put the discomfort of others above the needs of their own babies will be enough to cause them to reconsider nursing altogether. One mother told me, “My older child nursed every three hours, so I could complete errands in time to feed him. But my second has an irregular schedule, so we stopped nursing after a few weeks.” Let us make no mistake. The fuss over nursing in public harms mothers and babies.
Related posts:
Guest Post by Barbara: Miracles of Motherhood (Premies)
Babies and Breastfeeding: What Do You Know Now that You Wish You Had Then?
Guest Post at Crunchy Domestic Goddess on Diane Wiessinger’s Visit to Israel: Watch Your Language
The “Cringe” Factor: Breastfeeding in Public
Modiin Mom Told to Nurse in Changing Room
Nursing in the Ezrat Nashim (Nursing in the Synagogue)
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