Archive for the 'Reproduction' Category

Mourning

admin September 25th, 2008

As an only child I’d always wondered why people had multiple children. Everything that you could experience with two or three you could more easily do with one. The egg hunts, the fairs, the forts, the apple picking, the cupcakes, competitions, childhood exploration, developmental milestones, and I love yous are all just as open to parents of singles as multiples. Admission to children’s events, as far as I know, don’t discriminate. Likewise I had seen how tired the parents of multiple children seemed. Always doing something for one or another, they never seemed to have any time for themselves. I had watched parents who had easily integrated one child into their family take on a look of chaos and fear with the addition of another. Why? I thought, why do it?

I still think that logically, one is a good number. I like still being able to believe that my husband and I will be able to do many of the things we enjoyed sans child as well as all those wonderful things that I am so looking forward to experiencing with my son. But I think I’m beginning to understand those parents. I’m beginning to imagine what kind of mix another genetic roulette spin might produce. Our son is so cute. What would his brother look like? What would our little girl look like? How would another child’s personality mirror his? What does he share with us and what is really, distinctly, his?

And there’s another thing people don’t tell you. They don’t warn you that you will have to fall in love with your child over and over again because the baby you hold in your arms this week is not the same one you fell in love with last week. “Take pictures!” they say “They grow so fast.” Great advice, yes, but incomplete. They don’t tell you that the baby in those pictures is a different person, one you will want to remember, one in a blink you will never see again, one that yes, you will mourn. Sure every morning your baby is lying in the place where you left him, but he is different, every time you wake him. Every morning, he is new.

So I think some people have another child to get to meet a baby like that again. They want to hold their child 1 week, 1 month, 1 year old again. They want to fall in love again with their baby, knowing now that as soon as they do they will have to mourn him and replace that love with what he has become.

Goodbye my newborn. Goodbye my one month old son. Goodbye my tiny scrawny little baby.

I loved you.

A Perfect Evening

admin August 22nd, 2008

I made a wonderful dinner. I had a drink. I watched a movie with my husband. I danced with my son. We had a wonderful time. The three of us. Three.

Twenty years ago Friday nights were spent with a couple of friends, chasing away the daylight, running, chasing, laughing. Ten years ago my Friday nights were spent with my closest friends, playing pool, driving around, laughing. Five years ago my Friday nights were spent partying with new friends, dancing, meeting new guys, laughing. What memories I have, of these nights.

Tonight I spent at home with my new family. Laughing.

I will have more crazy nights. I’m not ready to give them up. But tonight was plain, and I went nowhere, and and it was perfect.

This is why I did this thing. This night. May you all have nights like these.

A new moon

admin August 9th, 2008

Dear Kiddo,

Two days ago you turned one month old. I think you should know that though your birthday was not celebrated with cupcakes and candles, the last month has been one long birthday party for you. All of your grandparents have come to see you twice. Friends from other states have driven miles to come to see you. You have had easily over a dozen visitors. The pictures of you we post to friends cause my inbox to fill each morning with exclamations on your cuteness. You have already been the hit of a party. You now have the popularity I would have traded for my soul in middle school.

The one who enjoys you the most, though, is your father. You really should thank me later for picking him out for you. He is working part time so that his afternoons are spent with you sleeping on this shoulder, or with you slung across his arm sucking his thumb like a little monkey. He swoops you around the house like an airplane, holds you high and jiggles you like jelly, and doesn’t complain about changing your diapers. While I think that you are cute simply because you are a baby, he is convinced that you really are the cutest baby ever, most likely because you look exactly like he did when he was a baby. Your hand even perfectly mirrors his palm creases.

This whole month I have had no other real job than to take care of you. You sleep until around 7 AM and despite my efforts to stay in bed a little longer you wake up and are ready to play. So every morning we get up and after you are changed we have playtime together. Sometimes I put a toy on you and let you bat it around. Sometimes I show you around the house and describe everything. Sometimes I just let you gaze into my face. Recently you have started smiling and making this happy squealing noise that is the most incredible thing I have ever heard.

Early on, before I knew how to properly soothe you, back when you were nursing promptly every two hours, I went through several difficult days. Unfortunately I am just not one of those women who falls in love with a baby the instant she sees him, nor did I suddenly realize that mothering was what I had always been meant to do. I was worried that I had made a terrible mistake becoming a mother, one that I knew I could never undo. I worried that I would never enjoy this role, and that it would prevent me from accomplishing all the other incredible things I want to achieve in this life of mine. I worried that I had traded my life for yours, and it was a swindle.

But don’t worry kiddo, because I’m pretty sure I was wrong. I love the little sighing noises you make while you sleep, and how you can gaze at me for hours. I love how you squeal and open your mouth when I kiss you all over. I love your little round belly. I love how soft you feel, and how you stroke me with your hand and toes while you nurse. And now that I am getting more sleep and more confidence, I just can’t wait to discover other wonderful things about you, those moments and memories yet hidden away far from my view, secrets you will keep until it is your time to reveal them.

Happy Birthday!

Momma

An Open Letter

admin August 6th, 2008

Dear Woolite Pet Stain Remover People

I am writing you to commend you for a wonderful product. Over the years, your product has kept our carpet and furniture looking and smelling new, pet accident after pet accident, including one involving a lab puppy who mistook a bathroom garbage can for a shiny new dinner plate, and another involving our mutt and, well, let’s just say it was really bad. However, I had no idea that when my weeks old baby shot yellow week old baby poo through the air, over the changing table, and out onto the carpet, that your product would perform so spectacularly. Not only did Woolite Pet Stain Remover completely clean the area after being left to set for several hours (no Virginia, that 1AM poop explosion was not just a bad dream), but I feel confident that as the bottle advertises, the deodorizing effect of your product will dissuade my child from resoiling that spot again in the future. I thought that this new use of Woolite Pet Stain Remover should be brought to your attention in case you would like to utilize this information for marketing purposes in the future.

Sincerely,

WPSR’s biggest fan

And a New Day Dawns

admin August 1st, 2008

First of all, thank you so much, Gillian, for your comments. You made me feel so much better, sitting there, holding my hand with your words. I also posted a cry for help in my facebook profile, and was buoyed by many comments left by people I know and love all over the country. You know, I remember some kid’s show from a LONG way back with some truly awful jingle about how great friends are (Sesame Street? Mr. Rogers?) and I remember thinking, “Well duh you dumb people. This is so stupid.” But that was back when a “friend” was that kid you just met at the pool: “What’s your name? What’s your favorite color? Want to be my friend?”

So thank you to all my friends, the ones I know and those I don’t. My favorite color is blue.

Because today has been much better. My Mom is here to hold and console the baby, who strangely doesn’t feel the need to cry nearly so much. Our friends arrived early to take care of him, and we got to the graduation site in plenty of time. Graduation actually was nice, and I felt some sense of accomplishment.

I like to rub my velvet stole…

Apparently the baby didn’t cry at all while I was gone, and he is now back to his three hour feeding schedule. And Saturn aligns with the Moon and Pluto in the Southern hemisphere… So things are good, for now. And now I have heard that this is the toughest time, that things will get better, so the bad days will not be for the rest of my life, and OH MY GOD how good does that make me feel.

And now so that this blog isn’t entirely frustrated rants, here’s a bit of trivia about the phrase “T-minus” entirely stolen from that little gem, the urban dictionary.

T minus zero

“T minus zero” means “out of time.”

This comes from a countdown convention used in by both the American military and NASA.

Generally, it is used when counting down to a major event that will happen at a specific time.

Mathematically, T is time, minus whatever amount of time is left until the event happens.

If the News Years ball is dropping in 10 minutes, one could say “The ball is dropping in T minus 10 minutes and counting!”

Therefore, “T minus zero” means that there is no time left.

Interesting, no?

A Cry in the Dark

admin July 31st, 2008

So I haven’t written here in a while. Well, as they say, I’ve been busy.

Sometimes I feel guilty for not writing. I feel that slight guilt I feel when I really need to mop the floor, but choose to do something else instead, like it’s something on my to-do list that I ignore, but shouldn’t. And sometimes I feel silly for this guilt. It’s not like anyone needs me to write here. It’s not like I get paid, or someone is inconvenienced. But then again, I will never have more than a handful of readers if I never create something to be consumed. And don’t I know that feeling of disappointment when I visit my favorite blogs day after day to find nothing new?

But today, today, I write because I NEED to. I need to do something creative. I need to reach out. I need to have someone tell me, “me too.” I can’t help feeling that some time in the future I will take this post down. I will feel embarrassed by my weakness, or will be afraid that my son will read it many years from now. But at the moment, this is something I think I need. So here goes.

I graduate tomorrow. I walk across a stage while friends and family cheer for me, celebrate me, and applaud me. I take the final symbolic step to complete this incredibly trying, incredibly difficult, incredibly esteemed thing called the PhD. I do this thing that I have been working to do for the last half-decade. And all I want is to get it over with.

All I want is to get it done because of this other thing I have, this baby. This baby cries off and on all day. This baby forces me to wake several times every night. This baby I must keep alive day after day. This baby keeps me from doing other things. This baby is constantly on my mind.

Because I can’t expose this baby to germs, I am having some friends come by to take care of this baby. I am stressed hoping they get there in time, hoping we get out in time, hoping this baby doesn’t scream the whole time they are there, hoping this baby takes the bottle OK, hoping that I don’t get too engorged while I’m away from this baby, hoping I sleep the night before. This is half of me. The other half just wants to run away.

Really, this baby isn’t all that bad. He sleeps at night except for the hour he takes to eat every three hours that I feed him. (Isn’t an hour feeding a little long?) He doesn’t cry constantly, just off and on most of the time he’s awake during the day.

But still I can’t push out the nagging feeling that I have gone and done something horribly horribly wrong. Because, this, this is not fun. Why do women other seem to enjoy doing this? Can I please just give him back and have my old life back? I want my old life back. I want my husband and my sleep and my LIFE, my LIFE, the life I know how to live. And I want a job – any job that will get me away, and doing and thinking and not having to worry about this baby. Screw the dream job; screw me making a new start, a new career. I just want something that will make me enough money to have someone else take care of the baby for a little while. Someone who can do it better than I can.

And who thinks like this? What the hell kind of mom am I? This thing, this thing can never be undone. Never. What have I done? When does the fun part start? What is wrong with me? Do other moms worry that their lives will never be as good again, that they have made a terrible mistake? What if I’m just not the motherly type? What if it never gets better? Oh please tell me this will get better.

The thing is, I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I don’t know if it gets better, or just different. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to relax, to enjoy myself and my husband. I don’t know if I’ll ever get a job I really love, now that I don’t have time to devote to making that happen. I don’t know if this one decision has thoroughly screwed up my life. So please, tell me there is a light, that this gets better, that soon I will love my life again, that it’s worth it. Because right now all I want to do is go hide in a closet, and this graduation thing tomorrow just seems like some cruel joke. Congratulations, your life is over.

Dichotomy

admin June 12th, 2008

Defense is soon. Very very soon.

Soon I will answer to “doctor.” Soon I will answer to “mommy.”

I don’t know which one I am more excited about. Would it be a bad thing if it were the latter?

Update and baby randomness

admin May 29th, 2008

So I met in person with crazy advisor yesterday and suddenly he is no longer crazy. He was happy and friendly and told me that things were on track and that my dissertation was even stronger now, and oh, go ahead and see about getting a new date. I suppose that this is what people mean when they say that things are completely misinterpreted via email. Or maybe I really am insane.

This is why one should never get emotional in an email. It can be completely misinterpreted, and the forward button is a click away. I am so glad that I didn’t send any of the venting emails I was itching to send and vented here instead.

On the pregnancy front I am still having a pretty easy time, though my back still isn’t all that happy about recent developments. I will really miss feeling all these movements when my son is born. I bet the pharmaceutical companies could make good money with a pill that simulates fetal movement. Or is that called gas? Please ye fates, let these favorable conditions continue.

And here I would like to take a second to appeal to all those very kind people who send the pregnant lady baby gifts. First of all, thank you. You are very kind and thoughtful and she is really touched that you sent her things for the baby. Secondly, please do not send the pregnant lady 500 newborn clothes. Know that everyone else has sent her 500 newborn clothes as well. They are all so tiny and cute that she will keep them all knowing some will never get worn and then after a few months her baby will have to run around in loincloths stitched from the 50 receiving blankets she received.

My career decisions are in limbo until this dissertation thing is done. Apparently my stipend really does make a difference to our finances. More to come on this later. Now it is back to work.

On the pregnancy

admin April 17th, 2008

I hope I don’t offend all those poor women out there who had or are going through horrible terrible times while pregnant. Just like getting pregnant on the first try, I am again screwing with the average.

I love being pregnant.

I love that I burn an extra 300 calories a day without doing any additional working out. I love feeling the little alien in my belly poke, bump, and roll around. I am not sick, short of breath, depressed, moody, or bloated. I finally have something to talk about to complete strangers. I don’t have stretch marks (yessss!!). Thanks to generous offerings from past pregnant women, I have an entirely new wardrobe that I didn’t have to purchase. People are friendly and offer to give me free beverages if I am waiting for someone in a restaurant. (I am hoping this is because I am pregnant, and not because I look desperate.) After all this time, I finally look pregnant, and I actually believe my husband when he tells me I look hot. I am so loving these pregnancy boobies. This is SO much better than I thought it would be.

My only real problems are some back pain (helped with walking, exercise and a $30 massage chair bought online) and apparently a low iron level. I will have to work on that iron, but this is easily fixed. Also, my boobs leak a little after sex, which is very odd, but oddly cool.

Now, of course, the evil jinx fairies will come in my sleep to get me. I know this. I will have stretch marks reaching my calves in the morning.

But I thought I’d put this out there. For all the poor miserable pregnant women, the likes of whom I might just be forced to join before all of this is over, there are some that get off easy. I am hoping to stay one of the outliers.

I am wondering - are easy pregnancies something that other women have, but just don’t talk about? I get the feeling that whenever someone has it good – whether a wonderful relationship, or plenty of money, or a job they love whatever – they tend to keep it secret. I suppose they don’t want to brag or jinx their situation. So, am I unusual, or do most people just keep their mouths (fingers?) shut?

On paint fumes in pregnancy

admin February 27th, 2008

I was hard at work not writing my thesis earlier today when I happened upon a message board with women discussing the potential dangers of painting their nursery. Since I am somewhat qualified to address this subject, I think I will do it here. BUT I am no MD.

Summary: Latex probably OK. Oil based probably should be avoided. Headache, dizziness, nausea, fatigue - bad.

In general, Latex paints are considered safe. As far as I know, no comprehensive studies have been done on the effects of latex paint on pregnancy, but so many women do it without complications that doctors tend not to think of these paints as a real risk.

Parents should try to paint the nursery at least one month (more if possible) before the baby’s arrival to ensure that most of the fumes (or VOCs = volatile organic compounds) have evaporated and left. Many companies are coming out with low VOC paint. I will definitely check these out when I go to paint my nursery. I hear that they are offered by Home Depot, Lowes, and Sherwin Williams, to name a few. These paints are great because they both reduce the VOCs that the mother breathes and any residual fumes left over in the room once the baby is there. Some people believe that regular paint can continue to give off VOCs for months after the initial application. What they tell us in the lab is to “minimize exposure.” This means, if someone else is willing to do it all, let them. If not, make sure that the room and the areas around it get plenty of ventilation.

Some doctors aren’t too worried about oil based paints and stains, but I am. I know what goes into these things, and what comes out. Some of these chemicals are ones that I have been warned to stay away from in the lab. Many of them are much more potentially harmful than ethanol (drinking alcohol). If alcohol is to be avoided in pregnancy, then certainly I think these chemicals should be too. If one MUST be around for staining or using oils, make sure that every possible means of ventilation is being used, and you are out of the house as much as possible. I would certainly not do this kind of work with an infant around. If you can smell it, you are breathing it. If you don’t smell it, you still may be breathing it.

Now, the take home message. The number one thing we learn in the lab is to listen to our body’s cues. Headache is one of the first signs of overexposure. If what you are doing is giving you a headache, you should stop. If you are staining and you develop a headache, take a break and get out of there. If you must go back, stay for a shorter period and try further measures to reduce exposure. The other cues include dizziness, nausea, and fatigue. These are signs that your body is sick when you are using chemicals. Do not ignore them.

The same advice goes for other potentially harmful but unknown chemicals. If dyeing your hair gives you a headache, then I would advise against doing this during pregnancy. If the pest control guy comes over and you get dizzy, go outside. So much is unknown about the affects of common household chemicals on fetal development. Take cues for your own body. Even if the baby is fine, knowing what makes you sick is a good first start.

Of course there are several other common sources of VOCs in the average house. Some of these include vinyl shower curtains, chemicals in furniture, etc. I need do more reading on these to have any kind of informed opinion. Keep in mind that VOCs are not created equal. An “organic compound” can be most anything, so just because the VOCs in say paint, might be proven innocuous, the VOCs in some other material may not be.

Happy painting!

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