May is a gorgeous month here in the San Francisco Bay Area. Or at least it is gorgeous south of the City. This weekend it was nearly 80F at my house, but a jaunt into the City uncovered a dampy, foggy wind and temperatures in the 60s. Needless to say, I didn't stay there long.
The pregnancy is going remarkably well, I'm told. No signs of preeclampsia, no gestational diabetes, I've kept my weight down, and all my bloodwork looks good. The latest ultrasound shows the baby in the desired head-down position. But at 38 weeks, I'm getting worn out, and the baby isn't showing any signs of wanting to make an appearance. My feet have started to swell, so I'm wearing flip-flops most of the time -- not the most stable footwear for someone who can't see her toes anymore. I've got a permanent crick in my pelvis/low back that sometimes turns into a sharp knife-like pain when I'm out walking--so I'm sticking close to home these days. It is getting more and more difficult to find food that agrees with me, so I'm mostly eating frozen greek yogurt, trail-mix, and rice with a bit of milk. My nose sometimes bleeds for no apparent reason, and my ring and pinky fingers are getting numb and tingly. These are all things that are known to go with pregnancy so I'm not worried, just tired.
This weekend I put together the last of the baby-related furniture and got things organized so that changing and dressing him should be relatively easy. I hope. I've been going through closets and dressers and dropping things off at GoodWill. Cleaned the guest room and prepped it for my my parents' upcoming visit. My step-mother is a nurse and it will be good to have her with me for the delivery. Moved most of the cleaning supplies out from under the sinks to the garage (it's never too early to start developing new habits). We've still got some bins to go through from the move into the house a year ago, but some of that will have to wait.
Our friends and family have been so generous with regards to baby gifts that I've had to add things to the baby registry. I'm not big on accumulating things that we won't need or use until
months down the road, so most of what has been on the registry list has been newborn through 3 month needs. Our living room is full of cardboard boxes from Amazon -- we've been breaking them down and recycling them for weeks but more keep coming.
I'm already working on my to-do list once the baby is born. There are a lot of things I just can't do right now. Or don't want to do because it might bother the baby inside me. Like using the circular saw :) I want to finish building the side panels on the rolling bamboo gate that camouflages the garbage bins, but handling lengths of lumber and using power tools isn't a good idea right now. I've also got a burning desire to move the gorilla storage racks in the garage, and that will have to wait, too. And planting. I've got a 40 foot long planting bed along the back of the house but I don't have what it takes to plant and maintain it right now, so I've held off on the tomatoes and carrots and snap peas. Plus, I need to dig down and put some hardware cloth in place to keep the gophers/moles out of the garden.
Well, time to finish this up. I've got plumbers coming in to fix the leak in the master bath soon. And I need to go over the bids for the sewer lateral work we're having done. And take my neighbor to the doctor this afternoon (she just got out of the hospital a few days ago). And then I get to nap :)
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Got extreme nipple pain?
Welcome to the world of nipple vasospasm and/or Raynaud's of the nipple.
I am writing this as a public service, because I thought I was being a whimp about nipple pain and losing my mind, and I think there are more women out there like me than the medical community realizes.
Note: It appears that the anti-hypertensive drug Labetolol can cause extreme nipple pain as a side-effect. A lot of women experiencing hypertension during pregnancy are put on this drug. See my comment below dated 11/01/2016 for NIH and journal articles.
When we are pregnant and nursing (breastfeeding), women are told to expect a certain amount of breast-related discomfort. When we complain about extreme pain, we are sometimes diagnosed with mastitis. If treatment for mastitis fails, then we're told it's probably a fungal infection, like thrush. If treatment for fungal infection doesn't relieve the pain, mothers are told to grin and bear it, or give up breastfeeding. Thousands of women choose to suffer through agony because they know that breastfeeding is what is best for their children. Thousands more give up on breastfeeding entirely, feeling inadequate as mothers and unsupported by their physicians. I recently learned that nipple vasospasm, and particularly Raynaud's of the nipple, are leading causes of breastfeeding failure -- and no one knows about it.
Really. I first started experiencing it at about 5 months in to my pregnancy, when I started taking Labetalol for hypertension. I finally spoke of the throbbing, burning pain, I was told some women experienced that as their milk came in, and that it would fade. I knew that this level of intense pain just couldn't be 'normal', so I started researching online. It took me several hours of digging to turn up the information on Raynaud's/vasospasm of the nipple. My OB had never heard of it. She talked to another OB and that doctor told her she'd had a few patiednts with it over the years, but it was rare. I was referred to a lactation consultant who said my symptoms were characteristic of Raynaud's and recommended a medication(nifedipine) that I can't take while I'm pregnant. I have to wait until I'm breastfeeding. Meanwhile, I suffer.
What are the symptoms of Raynaud's or vasospasm of the nipple?
1-Extreme burning pain, the kind of nipple-on-fire pain that has you crying hysterically, wakes you up at night, doesn't respond to Tylenol, and makes you wish you could take drugs, drink alcohol, or knock your head against a wall until you find oblivion.
2-Extremely hard, puckered nipples and areolae, as if you'd been exposed to intense cold.
3-A blanching (whitening) of the tips of the nipples.
4-The areolae turn a very dark reddish, purplish, or bluish hue.
5-The edges of the aureolae sometimes turn a bright, angry red.
6-The pain lasts anywhere from just minutes, to over an hour.
If these symptoms are triggered by exposure to cold, it is called Raynaud's, otherwise, it is called nipple vasospasm. Whatever they call it, it is maddeningly painful.
I've tried Tylenol, sunburn gels, nipple ointments and numbing sprays, my hairdryer, warm washcloths, etc. The only thing that helps is a long, hot shower. The problem is, being pregnant, my tolerance for long, hot showers is pretty low. The other night I got out of the shower after 20 minutes, still with pain but bearable, and crawled into bed. 90 minutes later I was awake again. It took 30 minutes in a hot shower, with me feeling lightheaded and my knees about to buckle, before the horrid fucking pain abated.
I've experienced this for 5 nights running. I'm exhausted. I'm cranky. I'm dreading breastfeeding. As I emptied my dishwasher this morning, I was actually tempted by steak knives: I contemplated sawing off my nipples.
Several causes and treatments of nipple vasospasm are hypothesized. Causes could be too much caffeine, not enough B6 vitamins, exposure to cold, etc etc. Treatments recommended are heat, avoidance of vasocontrictors like caffeine and nicotine, ingesting vasodilators like nitrates, alcoholic beverages, niacin, and certain herbs. Based on the feedback I've been getting from other women, hypertensive meds, particularly Labetalol, may be causing this.
Ibuprofen helps some women, and Nifedipine usually works within days, and requires no more than 6 weeks at a low dosage to prevent recurrance. So the literature says.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do, especially on those nights when the pain outlasts my endurance of hot showers. Perhaps a bit of alcohol. This late in my pregnancy I'm not turning to ibuprofen and I'm not very tolerant of NSAIDs anyway. I might hit my doc up for prescription-strength topical lidocaine or procaine. Or maybe I'll get lucky and it will just disappear. I just know that I can't take another 23 days of this.
I hope that my research helps other women out there who are going crazy with nipple pain.
http://www.nbci.ca/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=52:vasospasm-and-raynauds-phenomenon&catid=5:information&Itemid=17
http://www.llli.org/nb/nbjulaug99p120.html
PostScript:
I was at my doctor's office for a routine fetal monitoring when this hit again. I sat in the chair and cried silently until the RN came in to check the tape and saw me. My pain tolerance is legendary so she was shocked. She asked what was going on. I showed her my breasts. Dark purplish aureolae and nipples, with the tips a shocking grayish white. She went and grabbed my OB. She examined me, gave me lidocaine cream and hot towels but they didn't make much difference. She asked me if anything helped. I defiantly told her about 1/2 ounce of scotch or Bailey's Irish Cream worked within a few minutes and I figured such a small amount wasn't going to affect the baby. She said I was right. She said that the stress hormones I was pumping out due to that level of pain was much worse for the baby than a small amount of alcohol. So now I've got doctor's orders to drink next time I have one of these vasospasms. Whee!
I am writing this as a public service, because I thought I was being a whimp about nipple pain and losing my mind, and I think there are more women out there like me than the medical community realizes.
Note: It appears that the anti-hypertensive drug Labetolol can cause extreme nipple pain as a side-effect. A lot of women experiencing hypertension during pregnancy are put on this drug. See my comment below dated 11/01/2016 for NIH and journal articles.
When we are pregnant and nursing (breastfeeding), women are told to expect a certain amount of breast-related discomfort. When we complain about extreme pain, we are sometimes diagnosed with mastitis. If treatment for mastitis fails, then we're told it's probably a fungal infection, like thrush. If treatment for fungal infection doesn't relieve the pain, mothers are told to grin and bear it, or give up breastfeeding. Thousands of women choose to suffer through agony because they know that breastfeeding is what is best for their children. Thousands more give up on breastfeeding entirely, feeling inadequate as mothers and unsupported by their physicians. I recently learned that nipple vasospasm, and particularly Raynaud's of the nipple, are leading causes of breastfeeding failure -- and no one knows about it.
Really. I first started experiencing it at about 5 months in to my pregnancy, when I started taking Labetalol for hypertension. I finally spoke of the throbbing, burning pain, I was told some women experienced that as their milk came in, and that it would fade. I knew that this level of intense pain just couldn't be 'normal', so I started researching online. It took me several hours of digging to turn up the information on Raynaud's/vasospasm of the nipple. My OB had never heard of it. She talked to another OB and that doctor told her she'd had a few patiednts with it over the years, but it was rare. I was referred to a lactation consultant who said my symptoms were characteristic of Raynaud's and recommended a medication(nifedipine) that I can't take while I'm pregnant. I have to wait until I'm breastfeeding. Meanwhile, I suffer.
What are the symptoms of Raynaud's or vasospasm of the nipple?
1-Extreme burning pain, the kind of nipple-on-fire pain that has you crying hysterically, wakes you up at night, doesn't respond to Tylenol, and makes you wish you could take drugs, drink alcohol, or knock your head against a wall until you find oblivion.
2-Extremely hard, puckered nipples and areolae, as if you'd been exposed to intense cold.
3-A blanching (whitening) of the tips of the nipples.
4-The areolae turn a very dark reddish, purplish, or bluish hue.
5-The edges of the aureolae sometimes turn a bright, angry red.
6-The pain lasts anywhere from just minutes, to over an hour.
If these symptoms are triggered by exposure to cold, it is called Raynaud's, otherwise, it is called nipple vasospasm. Whatever they call it, it is maddeningly painful.
I've tried Tylenol, sunburn gels, nipple ointments and numbing sprays, my hairdryer, warm washcloths, etc. The only thing that helps is a long, hot shower. The problem is, being pregnant, my tolerance for long, hot showers is pretty low. The other night I got out of the shower after 20 minutes, still with pain but bearable, and crawled into bed. 90 minutes later I was awake again. It took 30 minutes in a hot shower, with me feeling lightheaded and my knees about to buckle, before the horrid fucking pain abated.
I've experienced this for 5 nights running. I'm exhausted. I'm cranky. I'm dreading breastfeeding. As I emptied my dishwasher this morning, I was actually tempted by steak knives: I contemplated sawing off my nipples.
Several causes and treatments of nipple vasospasm are hypothesized. Causes could be too much caffeine, not enough B6 vitamins, exposure to cold, etc etc. Treatments recommended are heat, avoidance of vasocontrictors like caffeine and nicotine, ingesting vasodilators like nitrates, alcoholic beverages, niacin, and certain herbs. Based on the feedback I've been getting from other women, hypertensive meds, particularly Labetalol, may be causing this.
Ibuprofen helps some women, and Nifedipine usually works within days, and requires no more than 6 weeks at a low dosage to prevent recurrance. So the literature says.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do, especially on those nights when the pain outlasts my endurance of hot showers. Perhaps a bit of alcohol. This late in my pregnancy I'm not turning to ibuprofen and I'm not very tolerant of NSAIDs anyway. I might hit my doc up for prescription-strength topical lidocaine or procaine. Or maybe I'll get lucky and it will just disappear. I just know that I can't take another 23 days of this.
I hope that my research helps other women out there who are going crazy with nipple pain.
http://www.nbci.ca/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=52:vasospasm-and-raynauds-phenomenon&catid=5:information&Itemid=17
http://www.llli.org/nb/nbjulaug99p120.html
PostScript:
I was at my doctor's office for a routine fetal monitoring when this hit again. I sat in the chair and cried silently until the RN came in to check the tape and saw me. My pain tolerance is legendary so she was shocked. She asked what was going on. I showed her my breasts. Dark purplish aureolae and nipples, with the tips a shocking grayish white. She went and grabbed my OB. She examined me, gave me lidocaine cream and hot towels but they didn't make much difference. She asked me if anything helped. I defiantly told her about 1/2 ounce of scotch or Bailey's Irish Cream worked within a few minutes and I figured such a small amount wasn't going to affect the baby. She said I was right. She said that the stress hormones I was pumping out due to that level of pain was much worse for the baby than a small amount of alcohol. So now I've got doctor's orders to drink next time I have one of these vasospasms. Whee!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Week 34 Insomnia
The cat is curled up on my breasts
his belly resting on the pronounced curve of mine.
As he purrs, the baby moves
moves again
pressing some part of himself upward
against the furball draping the roof of his world.
The cat stops purring.
His ears perk.
I think he feels the movement, too,
and waits curiously for another.
But the baby inside me stills.
It is not the weight of the cat
but it's purring which my son responds to.
So I stroke the pale fur
and the kitty-cat purrs
and the baby moves.
Sometimes being unable to sleep isn't so bad.
his belly resting on the pronounced curve of mine.
As he purrs, the baby moves
moves again
pressing some part of himself upward
against the furball draping the roof of his world.
The cat stops purring.
His ears perk.
I think he feels the movement, too,
and waits curiously for another.
But the baby inside me stills.
It is not the weight of the cat
but it's purring which my son responds to.
So I stroke the pale fur
and the kitty-cat purrs
and the baby moves.
Sometimes being unable to sleep isn't so bad.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Climate Change and Christians as Stewards of the Earth
I grew up a native Californian Reagan Conservative with strong fundamentalist Christian values. At the same time, the terrible air quality, acid rains, and pollution which spawned the 1970s Green Movements were embedded in my childhood memories. I can remember the dirty brown smog in the LA basin rolling by, entirely obscuring the mountain ranges for months at a time. When I came of age in the 1980's, acid-rain and pollution were waning thanks to regulation, but the Cold War was still raging. Things were so bad that I took perverse comfort in living in proximity to both an air force base and a nuclear power
plant because I knew that if there was a nuclear war I'd likely die
early so I wouldn't have to live in the hellish aftermath.
It was the documentary film "Broken Rainbow", which launched me from complacency into activism. The forced relocation of Navajo Indians for the purposes of making the land accessible to mining activities, the visuals of children playing in uranium tailings, the high rates of cancer, and the knowledge that our treatment of the Navajo people had been models for Nazi concentration camps inflamed me. I learned about the pollution along the Mississippi River corridor, of watersheds so compromised that poor mothers were nursing babies with toxic breastmilk. I worked with inner-city children who grew up in extreme poverty and drug abuse and sexual abuse. It was the death of one of "my kids," the mistaken-identity shooting of a bright young single mother who had still managed to finish high school and college and climb out of the ghetto that broke me and ended my activism for nearly a decade.
The re-election of George W Bush and the marked failure of compassionate conservatism to address the very real needs of the American people brought me back to activism. In despair over the national political scene, I sought community and responsibility on the local level. And I found it. I also found myself. I discovered that I could maintain a balance between advocating for others and caring for myself. I felt called to become an ordained minister, and to pick up the sex-education efforts I'd put down years earlier. I wrote extensively. I joined a community that focused on heart-centered connection and intimacy. I cared for the dying and the living as my family entered a period of one catastrophic illness after another, and then I took a much-needed break to rest and determine what I wanted to do next in my life.
I care passionately about the world I live in. The Snowmass Wilderness and the Big Sur coastline were my backyard when I was a child, and I experienced God through joy in His Creation. I was taught to love God and the works of God, and to love my fellow man as Jesus loved me. As such, I've tried to help people in need, especially children and the elderly, I've tried to be environmentally responsible, and I've tried to make a contribution to each community I've been a part of.
Now that I'm bringing a child into the world, everything feels different, like everything I've done isn't enough. It's still globally encompassing, but more personal somehow. I evaluate the-world-as-it-is and I find myself despairing over the-world-as-it-will-be when my son comes of age. I feel frustrated and angry that we've been such poor custodians of this planet, and that so many people feel justified in ignoring the cumulative consequences of our actions. The dominant ethos of America appears to be one grounded in Greed and Apocalyptic Vision: God set Man in dominion over the world, so exploit it for all it's worth. Then God will take care of what is left -- with Fire.
But does the command in Genesis 1:28 to be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth and subdue it really give humanity license to recklessly exploit the planet? I think not. Genesis Chapter 2 describes God's creation of the garden of Eden, and His placement of Man in the Garden to dress it and to keep it (Genesis 2:15). What does "dress it and keep it" mean? Cultivate it and care for it. God put Man into the Garden of Eden to be it's caretaker, it's master gardener.
Now, After Adam and Eve's fall from Grace, God was pretty upset. He basically said cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life (Genesis 3:17). This would seem to set mankind up in an adversarial role with our environment. No longer would the ground readily sustain us, we'd have to work hard to find and grow food -- we'd have to work harder at subduing the planet. But what people seem to forget is that if God initially gave us dominion over the earth, the earth is still His. Even after granting Adam and Eve stewardship of the earth, even as he created the Garden of Eden for Adam to care for, He retained ultimate authority and ownership -- as demonstrated by His choice to curse it so we'd have to work hard in order to survive. (Jeremiah 27:5 I by my great power and outstretched arm made the earth, land and animals that are on the earth. And I can give them to whom I please.)
I can't help but feel that this was a test of sorts, a God-given opportunity for mankind to prove ourselves worthy of the role he'd given us as sovereigns and caretakers of the earth. I can't help but feel that we are once again failing in our charge.
The Bible tells us that even as humanity slipped into sin and depravity, and so lost our connection with God and Creation that God felt it necessary to wipe the works of Man from the face of the earth, God found one man, Noah, and charged him with building an ark to save not only those who kept faith with God, but also the creatures of the earth. We'd slipped so far from our sacred beginnings that God wanted to cleanse the earth of our taint, but not of His Creations. Once again, he reminded us of our responsibility as stewards of this planet. Even so, we continue to fail in those responsibilities, and have for thousands of years:
So I'd like to ask all the Christians out there, and indeed, all people who believe that the world was created by God, to think before they snicker or roll their eyes at those darned environmentalists who warn of the dire consequences of our current way of living on the earth. They could be the Noah's of our era, and if we ignore them, who is to say that they aren't prophesying the destruction of the world by fire (2 Peter 3:7. But the heavens and the earth, which are now, by the same word are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and perdition of ungodly men)?
And if we willfully ignore their warnings because of inconvenience or political or ideological differences, and continue to be poor stewards of the earth, what world are we leaving to our children, and to the creatures of this planet, and how will God judge us when that time comes?
I feel it is time for those who consider themselves righteous or godly or God's Chosen to embrace the mantle of environmental stewardship. It is time for everyone to love what God has created, to dress it and to keep it as God charged us to do, and to stop wasting time on judging others when we should be loving them as Jesus also charged us to do. I think that we should unite to protect and preserve this planet all of us live on, because, really, if we fail in this, who can be smugly assured of their place in Heaven if everything does go to hell?
It was the documentary film "Broken Rainbow", which launched me from complacency into activism. The forced relocation of Navajo Indians for the purposes of making the land accessible to mining activities, the visuals of children playing in uranium tailings, the high rates of cancer, and the knowledge that our treatment of the Navajo people had been models for Nazi concentration camps inflamed me. I learned about the pollution along the Mississippi River corridor, of watersheds so compromised that poor mothers were nursing babies with toxic breastmilk. I worked with inner-city children who grew up in extreme poverty and drug abuse and sexual abuse. It was the death of one of "my kids," the mistaken-identity shooting of a bright young single mother who had still managed to finish high school and college and climb out of the ghetto that broke me and ended my activism for nearly a decade.
The re-election of George W Bush and the marked failure of compassionate conservatism to address the very real needs of the American people brought me back to activism. In despair over the national political scene, I sought community and responsibility on the local level. And I found it. I also found myself. I discovered that I could maintain a balance between advocating for others and caring for myself. I felt called to become an ordained minister, and to pick up the sex-education efforts I'd put down years earlier. I wrote extensively. I joined a community that focused on heart-centered connection and intimacy. I cared for the dying and the living as my family entered a period of one catastrophic illness after another, and then I took a much-needed break to rest and determine what I wanted to do next in my life.
I care passionately about the world I live in. The Snowmass Wilderness and the Big Sur coastline were my backyard when I was a child, and I experienced God through joy in His Creation. I was taught to love God and the works of God, and to love my fellow man as Jesus loved me. As such, I've tried to help people in need, especially children and the elderly, I've tried to be environmentally responsible, and I've tried to make a contribution to each community I've been a part of.
Now that I'm bringing a child into the world, everything feels different, like everything I've done isn't enough. It's still globally encompassing, but more personal somehow. I evaluate the-world-as-it-is and I find myself despairing over the-world-as-it-will-be when my son comes of age. I feel frustrated and angry that we've been such poor custodians of this planet, and that so many people feel justified in ignoring the cumulative consequences of our actions. The dominant ethos of America appears to be one grounded in Greed and Apocalyptic Vision: God set Man in dominion over the world, so exploit it for all it's worth. Then God will take care of what is left -- with Fire.
But does the command in Genesis 1:28 to be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth and subdue it really give humanity license to recklessly exploit the planet? I think not. Genesis Chapter 2 describes God's creation of the garden of Eden, and His placement of Man in the Garden to dress it and to keep it (Genesis 2:15). What does "dress it and keep it" mean? Cultivate it and care for it. God put Man into the Garden of Eden to be it's caretaker, it's master gardener.
Now, After Adam and Eve's fall from Grace, God was pretty upset. He basically said cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life (Genesis 3:17). This would seem to set mankind up in an adversarial role with our environment. No longer would the ground readily sustain us, we'd have to work hard to find and grow food -- we'd have to work harder at subduing the planet. But what people seem to forget is that if God initially gave us dominion over the earth, the earth is still His. Even after granting Adam and Eve stewardship of the earth, even as he created the Garden of Eden for Adam to care for, He retained ultimate authority and ownership -- as demonstrated by His choice to curse it so we'd have to work hard in order to survive. (Jeremiah 27:5 I by my great power and outstretched arm made the earth, land and animals that are on the earth. And I can give them to whom I please.)
I can't help but feel that this was a test of sorts, a God-given opportunity for mankind to prove ourselves worthy of the role he'd given us as sovereigns and caretakers of the earth. I can't help but feel that we are once again failing in our charge.
The Bible tells us that even as humanity slipped into sin and depravity, and so lost our connection with God and Creation that God felt it necessary to wipe the works of Man from the face of the earth, God found one man, Noah, and charged him with building an ark to save not only those who kept faith with God, but also the creatures of the earth. We'd slipped so far from our sacred beginnings that God wanted to cleanse the earth of our taint, but not of His Creations. Once again, he reminded us of our responsibility as stewards of this planet. Even so, we continue to fail in those responsibilities, and have for thousands of years:
Leviticus 25:23-24. The land is mine and you are but aliens and my tenants. Throughout the country that you hold as a possession, you must provide for the redemption of the land.When public figures like politicians and ministers say that catastrophic global climate change can't happen no matter what Man does because The Bible says the world will always be here -- they miss an important point. The Bible doesn't say Man will always be in the world, nor does it say that our way of life will always be sustained. We've gotten so caught up in serving up heaping helpings of the earth's resources that we've lost sight of he fact that the world doesn't exist to serve us. God created Man to serve as caretakers of Creation, to love it and take joy it as God Himself does.
Jeremiah 2:7. I brought you into a fertile land to eat its fruit and rich produce. But you came and defiled my land and you made my inheritance detestable.
Luke 16:2,10,13. And He called him and said to him, "What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your stewardship, for you can no longer be steward. He who is faithful in a very little thing is faithful also in much; and he who is unrighteous in a very little thing is unrighteous in much. You cannot serve both God and mammon.
James 5:5. You have lived luxuriously on the earth and led a life of wanton pleasure; you have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter.
So I'd like to ask all the Christians out there, and indeed, all people who believe that the world was created by God, to think before they snicker or roll their eyes at those darned environmentalists who warn of the dire consequences of our current way of living on the earth. They could be the Noah's of our era, and if we ignore them, who is to say that they aren't prophesying the destruction of the world by fire (2 Peter 3:7. But the heavens and the earth, which are now, by the same word are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and perdition of ungodly men)?
And if we willfully ignore their warnings because of inconvenience or political or ideological differences, and continue to be poor stewards of the earth, what world are we leaving to our children, and to the creatures of this planet, and how will God judge us when that time comes?
I feel it is time for those who consider themselves righteous or godly or God's Chosen to embrace the mantle of environmental stewardship. It is time for everyone to love what God has created, to dress it and to keep it as God charged us to do, and to stop wasting time on judging others when we should be loving them as Jesus also charged us to do. I think that we should unite to protect and preserve this planet all of us live on, because, really, if we fail in this, who can be smugly assured of their place in Heaven if everything does go to hell?
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Letter #3 to my unborn son
Little One,
In 7 weeks you'll be joining us, and your father and I are getting ready for your arrival.
A friend loaned us a book regarding childbirth, called A Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth. I thought reading it would help alleviate my anxiety, but it hasn't -- in some ways it's made it worse. There are so many pros and cons with things like epidurals, inducing labor, episiotomies, obstetricians, midwives, etc. Everyone has an opinion. Some opinions are even based on facts. But the more I read about childbirth, the more I realize that modern medicine has interfered so deeply with women's reproductive matters that we've lost or come to distrust thousands of years of knowledge of something that is innate to us. Childbirth is a natural event that is treated more like a medical emergency waiting to happen, and I guess that is what has me so nervous about the birthing process. Honestly, I'd like to skip over that part and just have you delivered via stork, ok?
We've bought the infant car seat and the stroller for you -- we found a great, gently used Chicco Cortina travel system on Craig's List for 1/3 the cost of new. Your Grandpa Stan went with me to pick it up from a couple who are at Stanford University.
The gifts are coming in from the baby registry we set up on Amazon.com, and we've been getting wonderful items second-hand from friends, some with the tags still on them. Your Great Aunt Marsha sent a bib with a power-tie printed on the front, and a cute little sailor suit, and of course, a little golfer's outfit. My best friend from Junior High days sent a big box of toys and clothes, and two baby carriers. Your father's friend, David, and his partner, Lynn, brought over some of their favorites from their son's infancy, too. Their boy is 18 months and growing so fast! I know you'll be doing the same. I have some friends who are wonderful at knitting and crocheting, so we've got some beautiful little jackets and hats made with love just for you.
Meanwhile your, Grandfather has really been working hard with us to finish up the landscaping projects we've had going, especially the side-yard gravel-to-paver project. When you're walking around next summer I won't worry about you falling and getting hurt on that sharp-edged gravel anymore. The exterior of your home is shaping up very nicely, though the interior is in a minor state of disarray, thanks to a leak in the master bath. The good news is we've discovered a closet that was abandoned during a renovation. We've just got to figure out how we're going to make it useful and aesthetically pleasing once again.
You're going through your growth spurt right now, and for the first time in my life, I'm anemic. Your expanding circulatory system and red blood cells require lots of iron, so I'm having to supplement my prenatal vitamins with additional iron. I'll probably be doing that for several months, while you're nursing, too.
You're starting to crowd my lungs. I can't take deep breaths anymore, but I'm not feeling short of breath so far, so that is something to be thankful for. In addition to my lungs being crowded, so is my stomach. A lot of food just isn't agreeing with me these days, and vomiting hurts, so I'm eating a lot of yogurt and cottage cheese and blueberries and protein drinks and protein bars. My weight gain so far is at about 10 lbs, but I'm noticing that while my breasts and belly are growing, other areas are shrinking a bit. So far, there are no signs of gestational diabetes or pre-eclampsia, and my blood-pressure is very good. Sleeping for more than 3 hours at a time is nearly impossible now. I suppose it's one way for me to get ready for napping between feedings.
Jasper the kitten isn't very kittenish anymore. He's 8 months old now and weighs 9 lbs. We're hoping he outgrows his adolescent phase before you arrive, because he's a bit aggressively playful. He's fun and sweet and cuddly and he'll be a good companion animal for you when you're both older. I'm not sure how he's going to deal with competition for my breasts, though. They seem to be his favorite place to curl up for a nap.
Your father is being very good to me. I can't wait for the two of you to meet each other. He's such a wonderful, gentle-hearted man, and I think he's going to fall for you pretty hard. He's planning on taking all 7 weeks of his paternity leave so he can spend as much time with us as he can. As it is he's doing everything he can to help me with my physical discomfort right now, and he's great about joining me when I lay down for a nap so I can snuggle and rest. Snuggling up with him is like coming home. You'll understand what I mean some day soon, I'm sure.
Time for bed.
See you in 7 weeks, maybe sooner.
Mom
In 7 weeks you'll be joining us, and your father and I are getting ready for your arrival.
A friend loaned us a book regarding childbirth, called A Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth. I thought reading it would help alleviate my anxiety, but it hasn't -- in some ways it's made it worse. There are so many pros and cons with things like epidurals, inducing labor, episiotomies, obstetricians, midwives, etc. Everyone has an opinion. Some opinions are even based on facts. But the more I read about childbirth, the more I realize that modern medicine has interfered so deeply with women's reproductive matters that we've lost or come to distrust thousands of years of knowledge of something that is innate to us. Childbirth is a natural event that is treated more like a medical emergency waiting to happen, and I guess that is what has me so nervous about the birthing process. Honestly, I'd like to skip over that part and just have you delivered via stork, ok?
We've bought the infant car seat and the stroller for you -- we found a great, gently used Chicco Cortina travel system on Craig's List for 1/3 the cost of new. Your Grandpa Stan went with me to pick it up from a couple who are at Stanford University.
The gifts are coming in from the baby registry we set up on Amazon.com, and we've been getting wonderful items second-hand from friends, some with the tags still on them. Your Great Aunt Marsha sent a bib with a power-tie printed on the front, and a cute little sailor suit, and of course, a little golfer's outfit. My best friend from Junior High days sent a big box of toys and clothes, and two baby carriers. Your father's friend, David, and his partner, Lynn, brought over some of their favorites from their son's infancy, too. Their boy is 18 months and growing so fast! I know you'll be doing the same. I have some friends who are wonderful at knitting and crocheting, so we've got some beautiful little jackets and hats made with love just for you.
Meanwhile your, Grandfather has really been working hard with us to finish up the landscaping projects we've had going, especially the side-yard gravel-to-paver project. When you're walking around next summer I won't worry about you falling and getting hurt on that sharp-edged gravel anymore. The exterior of your home is shaping up very nicely, though the interior is in a minor state of disarray, thanks to a leak in the master bath. The good news is we've discovered a closet that was abandoned during a renovation. We've just got to figure out how we're going to make it useful and aesthetically pleasing once again.
You're going through your growth spurt right now, and for the first time in my life, I'm anemic. Your expanding circulatory system and red blood cells require lots of iron, so I'm having to supplement my prenatal vitamins with additional iron. I'll probably be doing that for several months, while you're nursing, too.
You're starting to crowd my lungs. I can't take deep breaths anymore, but I'm not feeling short of breath so far, so that is something to be thankful for. In addition to my lungs being crowded, so is my stomach. A lot of food just isn't agreeing with me these days, and vomiting hurts, so I'm eating a lot of yogurt and cottage cheese and blueberries and protein drinks and protein bars. My weight gain so far is at about 10 lbs, but I'm noticing that while my breasts and belly are growing, other areas are shrinking a bit. So far, there are no signs of gestational diabetes or pre-eclampsia, and my blood-pressure is very good. Sleeping for more than 3 hours at a time is nearly impossible now. I suppose it's one way for me to get ready for napping between feedings.
Jasper the kitten isn't very kittenish anymore. He's 8 months old now and weighs 9 lbs. We're hoping he outgrows his adolescent phase before you arrive, because he's a bit aggressively playful. He's fun and sweet and cuddly and he'll be a good companion animal for you when you're both older. I'm not sure how he's going to deal with competition for my breasts, though. They seem to be his favorite place to curl up for a nap.
Your father is being very good to me. I can't wait for the two of you to meet each other. He's such a wonderful, gentle-hearted man, and I think he's going to fall for you pretty hard. He's planning on taking all 7 weeks of his paternity leave so he can spend as much time with us as he can. As it is he's doing everything he can to help me with my physical discomfort right now, and he's great about joining me when I lay down for a nap so I can snuggle and rest. Snuggling up with him is like coming home. You'll understand what I mean some day soon, I'm sure.
Time for bed.
See you in 7 weeks, maybe sooner.
Mom
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
New life & Lost lives
Four years ago my grandfather asked me when I was going to give him a great-grandchild. I told him babies weren't on my bucket-list. When he pressed me to settle down and have children (You're 40 now!) I told him I'd raised two sisters, two step sisters, and two parents--that I was done. We'd had that same exchange on a few previous occasions, but this time he nodded to himself. He seemed to accept what I was saying. I don't know that I was his favorite grandchild, but I was his first grandchild. I think that I was the only one of his grand-daughters who stayed in touch, and he always seemed to blame himself for my determination to be an "old maid."
He's been gone three years now, and I think he'd be so thrilled to know that I'm settled-down with a good man and that I'm having a baby. I miss him, and I'm sad my son will never know his great-grandfather, a man I loved and respected and was privileged to care for in the final days of his fight with cancer.
My sister Tammy died 4 years ago. She always wanted a family. She married young and bought a house with a white picket fence and then learned that she couldn't have kids. Like me, she was diagnosed with PCOS. The loss of that dream of living happily ever after changed her. She lived "family life" vicariously through our other sister and her children, but it wasn't enough. In her last days she was very sad that she'd never had a child. It seemed to be her one real regret. I think if she'd had a child she would have fought harder to live. I wish she was here to share the miracle of this pregnancy with. I think she would have loved being an Auntie again. And I'm sure she would have driven me just as nuts as she did our sister Terri, with all of her opinions about how to raise our children.
My uncle Jan would be thrilled, too. We had a special connection, Jan and me, and know he'd be happy, too. He'd probably be pressing me to get married, but that's ok. He learned to respect my life-style choices even as he considered me a sinner. It's hard to believe he's been gone for 15 months already. The time has just flown by.
So much of my family has passed away. So many loved ones that I wish I could introduce my son to when he arrives. I feel sad about that, but try not to let it settle too deeply on me. That last thing I want to do is plunge into some sort of depression that will be difficult to shake.
A new life is entering the world soon. There is no replacing the ones who have passed away before him, but I'll tell him stories about Big Jan and Grandpa Hank and Auntie Tam and he'll know them in his own way. That's the beauty of language and memory. We're immortal as long as we're remembered.
He's been gone three years now, and I think he'd be so thrilled to know that I'm settled-down with a good man and that I'm having a baby. I miss him, and I'm sad my son will never know his great-grandfather, a man I loved and respected and was privileged to care for in the final days of his fight with cancer.
My sister Tammy died 4 years ago. She always wanted a family. She married young and bought a house with a white picket fence and then learned that she couldn't have kids. Like me, she was diagnosed with PCOS. The loss of that dream of living happily ever after changed her. She lived "family life" vicariously through our other sister and her children, but it wasn't enough. In her last days she was very sad that she'd never had a child. It seemed to be her one real regret. I think if she'd had a child she would have fought harder to live. I wish she was here to share the miracle of this pregnancy with. I think she would have loved being an Auntie again. And I'm sure she would have driven me just as nuts as she did our sister Terri, with all of her opinions about how to raise our children.
My uncle Jan would be thrilled, too. We had a special connection, Jan and me, and know he'd be happy, too. He'd probably be pressing me to get married, but that's ok. He learned to respect my life-style choices even as he considered me a sinner. It's hard to believe he's been gone for 15 months already. The time has just flown by.
So much of my family has passed away. So many loved ones that I wish I could introduce my son to when he arrives. I feel sad about that, but try not to let it settle too deeply on me. That last thing I want to do is plunge into some sort of depression that will be difficult to shake.
A new life is entering the world soon. There is no replacing the ones who have passed away before him, but I'll tell him stories about Big Jan and Grandpa Hank and Auntie Tam and he'll know them in his own way. That's the beauty of language and memory. We're immortal as long as we're remembered.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Sleepless
A good night's sleep has become elusive. I'm up every couple of hours, lately with breast pain. There's nothing quite like waking up to the sound of your own moans. Even with my pain tolerance it's difficult to deal with, so I'm taking a couple of Tylenol most nights.
I'm starting to feel a bit anxious about breastfeeding -- and hoping the pain doesn't get much worse. I've had one hysterical-crying jag over terrible nipple pain and it really freaked M out. Poor dear. Even when I was in horrible pain from the infection and septicemia and the 8inch incision that had to close without stitches, I didn't express as much pain. Could be that septic experience "broke" my pain threshold, or could be that I'm just in that much pain. It's subjective, so what matters is -- it hurts!
The baby is getting bigger and he's a wiggle-worm. Last night M finally got to feel him moving around. Most of the time when M touches my belly the baby stops moving, but not this time. Maybe it's getting crowded in there?
Bigger baby means more internal pressure, which means I wake up more often with a need to shift positions. Which isn't easy anymore. Rolling over involves abdominal muscles that I just don't have the usual control over, so once I've rolled onto my back I feel like a turtle on it's back, trying to turn over. I'm considering trying rolling onto my belly/hands-and-knees and then laying on my other side from that position. Or maybe getting out of bed and then laying back down on the desired side. The nice thing about having a bed to myself is I can do that without disturbing anyone.
Being low on sleep makes me a bit cranky, and more than a little scattered. Combine that with all the hormonal pregnancy-brain stuff and I'm hardly recognizing myself these days. I can't seem to stay on top of commitments and appointments and whatnot. I've even called-off M's birthday party this weekend because I'm so tired that the thought of entertaining a large group of people for a few hours makes me want to cry.
But aside from the sleep deficit (which I'm sure I'll be getting used to once the baby comes) and the tender breasts, I'm feeling good. I'm learning to respect the limits of my body, so no more of those charlie-horse type cramps from over-exerting. I think that all the dietary supplements I'm taking are really helping support my health -- I haven't been sick in ages. Even the knee pain I experienced earlier in the pregnancy is gone, thankfully.
Eight more weeks. I can do eight more weeks of this. I think ;)
I'm starting to feel a bit anxious about breastfeeding -- and hoping the pain doesn't get much worse. I've had one hysterical-crying jag over terrible nipple pain and it really freaked M out. Poor dear. Even when I was in horrible pain from the infection and septicemia and the 8inch incision that had to close without stitches, I didn't express as much pain. Could be that septic experience "broke" my pain threshold, or could be that I'm just in that much pain. It's subjective, so what matters is -- it hurts!
The baby is getting bigger and he's a wiggle-worm. Last night M finally got to feel him moving around. Most of the time when M touches my belly the baby stops moving, but not this time. Maybe it's getting crowded in there?
Bigger baby means more internal pressure, which means I wake up more often with a need to shift positions. Which isn't easy anymore. Rolling over involves abdominal muscles that I just don't have the usual control over, so once I've rolled onto my back I feel like a turtle on it's back, trying to turn over. I'm considering trying rolling onto my belly/hands-and-knees and then laying on my other side from that position. Or maybe getting out of bed and then laying back down on the desired side. The nice thing about having a bed to myself is I can do that without disturbing anyone.
Being low on sleep makes me a bit cranky, and more than a little scattered. Combine that with all the hormonal pregnancy-brain stuff and I'm hardly recognizing myself these days. I can't seem to stay on top of commitments and appointments and whatnot. I've even called-off M's birthday party this weekend because I'm so tired that the thought of entertaining a large group of people for a few hours makes me want to cry.
But aside from the sleep deficit (which I'm sure I'll be getting used to once the baby comes) and the tender breasts, I'm feeling good. I'm learning to respect the limits of my body, so no more of those charlie-horse type cramps from over-exerting. I think that all the dietary supplements I'm taking are really helping support my health -- I haven't been sick in ages. Even the knee pain I experienced earlier in the pregnancy is gone, thankfully.
Eight more weeks. I can do eight more weeks of this. I think ;)
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Adding Omega-3's to my prenatal supplement regime
So I'm taking prenatal vitamins, and extra folic acid, vitamin D, and calcium -- everything my nutritionist recommended. This week, after doing some reading, I've added DHA & EPA Omega-3 fatty acid tablets.
Dr. Sears from our baby book says: "DHA is the most important brain-building nutrient at all ages, especially during pregnancy and the pre-school years when the child's brain is growing the fastest."
Right now our son's brain is developing rapidly and I'd like to give him all the advantages I can. DHA supplements are being recommended for women during Third Trimester and breastfeeding. Studies show that children of women who took supplements during third trimester and breastfeeding have IQs 10 points higher than control subjects, have better attention spans, etc. It also seems that taking DHA helps reduce postpartum depression.
It is difficult to get DHA via dietary means when I'm pregnant and breastfeeding because the best sources of DHA (Omega-3 fatty acids) are oily fishes and organ meats -- things most women avoid during pregnancy because of the bio-accumulation of toxins like mercury and PCBs in the big fish and animal organs. I've all but eliminated tuna from my diet, and while I still have salmon and cod on occasion, it's not enough.
I used to take fish oil capsules a few years ago, but I found the fishy aftertaste and the fish-burps unbearable. And with supplements made from fish oil, I'm still concerned about toxins. Fortunately, I found an alternative: DHA from the same place that fish get it. Algae.
I'll keep taking it for the next 6 months or so.
Dr. Sears from our baby book says: "DHA is the most important brain-building nutrient at all ages, especially during pregnancy and the pre-school years when the child's brain is growing the fastest."
Right now our son's brain is developing rapidly and I'd like to give him all the advantages I can. DHA supplements are being recommended for women during Third Trimester and breastfeeding. Studies show that children of women who took supplements during third trimester and breastfeeding have IQs 10 points higher than control subjects, have better attention spans, etc. It also seems that taking DHA helps reduce postpartum depression.
It is difficult to get DHA via dietary means when I'm pregnant and breastfeeding because the best sources of DHA (Omega-3 fatty acids) are oily fishes and organ meats -- things most women avoid during pregnancy because of the bio-accumulation of toxins like mercury and PCBs in the big fish and animal organs. I've all but eliminated tuna from my diet, and while I still have salmon and cod on occasion, it's not enough.
I used to take fish oil capsules a few years ago, but I found the fishy aftertaste and the fish-burps unbearable. And with supplements made from fish oil, I'm still concerned about toxins. Fortunately, I found an alternative: DHA from the same place that fish get it. Algae.
I'll keep taking it for the next 6 months or so.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Pregnant in Forties equals High Risk Pregnancy (so they say)
I've spent days working on a particular post that isn't ready yet, and in the meantime, the baby is growing.
It seems like just yesterday that I noticed the hardness of my uterus creeping up past my belly button. Now it's half-way to my diaphragm. I've gotten used to that constantly-bloated feeling now. I go in for a growth ultrasound on Thursday to make sure he's the right size for his age. I don't think that's going to be a problem.
Since I'm in my Forties, this is considered a high-risk pregnancy. So far, at 27 weeks, I'm not retaining any water. No puffiness in my face or extremities. My breathing is good -- I only feel winded when I try to keep up with M when we're walking together. My blood pressure is good. Soon I'll be monitoring my urine for signs of stress on my kidneys (toxemia), and I'll go in for another blood glucose test soon to make sure I'm not getting gestational diabetes. My mood is good, especially now that M is over his shock and talking more openly about the baby. For a while there I had dark spells in which I felt very alone and stuck.
I've either gotten used to the soreness on my knees that has plagued me since the First Trimester, or it's let up for some reason. They still hurt, but not as much. Getting up from the couch and even out of bed is more work these days. I used to sleep mostly in the middle of my bed, but I've changed to sleeping on the right side of my bed, leaving the entire left side clear, which gives me lots of room to sleep on my left side and none on my right. Sleeping on my back makes my legs tingle and sleeping on my right puts pressure on the superior vena cava, and as the baby grows it will only get worse, so I'm using pillows to keep me from sleeping any direction but left. Thank God M and I have separate beds!
I'm wearing a bra to bed at night, have been for a while. My breasts tend to wake me with aches and burning if I don't. So far they haven't grown drastically in cup size... they've just filled-in, back to the firmness I remember in my 20s. If they fill in much more, though, I'm going to have to step up another cup size.
Laughing, coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, vomiting -- these things put pressure on my bladder and often result in a change of clothing. I may resort to wearing panty-liners soon.
I'm fidgety. I'm constantly changing positions. Switching between couch and chair. Laying on the water bed once in a while instead of my tempurpedic. Standing I like, so long as there is movement involved. If I'm standing in a line for more than 15 minutes my low back starts to hurt. I try to finish what I start, but I find that I'm over-estimating my stamina. I really have to pace myself, especially with regards to exertion like digging things up in the garden, etc. I get cramps and feel sore low under my belly when I over do it.
I find that I'm hungry a lot more often these days. I'm trying to keep the noshing under control by stocking the fridge with greek yogurt and snap peas and sticks of cheese, and by navigating around certain shops when I'm on my walks. I'm two and three blocks from a Cold Stone Creamery, Beard Papa's Desserts, and Fletch's Footlongs for example. A couple of blocks more and there's bubble tea places, chinese, thai, and indian restaurants, two hot pot places (one chinese and one japanese), a dozen sushi and bento places, several pizza shops, two donut shops, gelato and coffee shops, four italian places, and two organic gourmet burger joints in addition to KFC, Taco Bell, and Burger King. Yeah -- I live in a pregnant woman's food paradise -- or nightmare, depending on perspective.
On the up side, my hair and skin and nails look great. I have a good excuse to nap whenever I want to. M is more solicitous with regards to my comfort, and more zealous about my physical exertion. I get to intersperse my activities with "just being" down-time. This works well with the whole pregnancy-brain thing. I find that if I give myself time to zone-out and just be, I feel less stressed and am less likely to experience those pregnancy-brain blank-outs at inconvenient moments.
So far, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed, this high-risk pregnancy has been pretty low-key. 12 more weeks to go, and we'll be bringing a little one home. Which reminds me... I should start thinking about buying some nursery furniture and figuring out how to incorporate a newborn's paraphernalia into my bedroom.
It seems like just yesterday that I noticed the hardness of my uterus creeping up past my belly button. Now it's half-way to my diaphragm. I've gotten used to that constantly-bloated feeling now. I go in for a growth ultrasound on Thursday to make sure he's the right size for his age. I don't think that's going to be a problem.
Since I'm in my Forties, this is considered a high-risk pregnancy. So far, at 27 weeks, I'm not retaining any water. No puffiness in my face or extremities. My breathing is good -- I only feel winded when I try to keep up with M when we're walking together. My blood pressure is good. Soon I'll be monitoring my urine for signs of stress on my kidneys (toxemia), and I'll go in for another blood glucose test soon to make sure I'm not getting gestational diabetes. My mood is good, especially now that M is over his shock and talking more openly about the baby. For a while there I had dark spells in which I felt very alone and stuck.
I've either gotten used to the soreness on my knees that has plagued me since the First Trimester, or it's let up for some reason. They still hurt, but not as much. Getting up from the couch and even out of bed is more work these days. I used to sleep mostly in the middle of my bed, but I've changed to sleeping on the right side of my bed, leaving the entire left side clear, which gives me lots of room to sleep on my left side and none on my right. Sleeping on my back makes my legs tingle and sleeping on my right puts pressure on the superior vena cava, and as the baby grows it will only get worse, so I'm using pillows to keep me from sleeping any direction but left. Thank God M and I have separate beds!
I'm wearing a bra to bed at night, have been for a while. My breasts tend to wake me with aches and burning if I don't. So far they haven't grown drastically in cup size... they've just filled-in, back to the firmness I remember in my 20s. If they fill in much more, though, I'm going to have to step up another cup size.
Laughing, coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, vomiting -- these things put pressure on my bladder and often result in a change of clothing. I may resort to wearing panty-liners soon.
I'm fidgety. I'm constantly changing positions. Switching between couch and chair. Laying on the water bed once in a while instead of my tempurpedic. Standing I like, so long as there is movement involved. If I'm standing in a line for more than 15 minutes my low back starts to hurt. I try to finish what I start, but I find that I'm over-estimating my stamina. I really have to pace myself, especially with regards to exertion like digging things up in the garden, etc. I get cramps and feel sore low under my belly when I over do it.
I find that I'm hungry a lot more often these days. I'm trying to keep the noshing under control by stocking the fridge with greek yogurt and snap peas and sticks of cheese, and by navigating around certain shops when I'm on my walks. I'm two and three blocks from a Cold Stone Creamery, Beard Papa's Desserts, and Fletch's Footlongs for example. A couple of blocks more and there's bubble tea places, chinese, thai, and indian restaurants, two hot pot places (one chinese and one japanese), a dozen sushi and bento places, several pizza shops, two donut shops, gelato and coffee shops, four italian places, and two organic gourmet burger joints in addition to KFC, Taco Bell, and Burger King. Yeah -- I live in a pregnant woman's food paradise -- or nightmare, depending on perspective.
On the up side, my hair and skin and nails look great. I have a good excuse to nap whenever I want to. M is more solicitous with regards to my comfort, and more zealous about my physical exertion. I get to intersperse my activities with "just being" down-time. This works well with the whole pregnancy-brain thing. I find that if I give myself time to zone-out and just be, I feel less stressed and am less likely to experience those pregnancy-brain blank-outs at inconvenient moments.
So far, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed, this high-risk pregnancy has been pretty low-key. 12 more weeks to go, and we'll be bringing a little one home. Which reminds me... I should start thinking about buying some nursery furniture and figuring out how to incorporate a newborn's paraphernalia into my bedroom.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Pregnancy and Emotions. Arrgghhhh!
Pregnancy and emotions go together like peas and carrots or corned beef and cabbage. Combinations I do not care for, I must admit. I'm finding myself overly-sensitive to things being said to me. I'm hearing "tone" that isn't there, and quite often I'm reacting before it occurs to me to stop and evaluate. I'm reading something, or listening to a program, or having a conversation and suddenly I'm in tears.
Most of the women I know have taken this escalation in stride, but I'm having real difficulties with it. I'm not normally an emotionally reactive person. I worked hard to put filters in place between impulse and action, and I usually do a good job of examining both my emotional responses, and the appropriateness of the actions I want to take. I understand that my thoughts and attitudes are causal forces in my life, and that while I may not have control over how I feel about something, I do have control over how I react. And how I react creates my life.
Enter pregnancy.
Context, contemplation, and understanding of the subjective nature of personal reality have taken a back seat to impulse. No more taking a moment to check-in and ask myself if that person really meant to say what I think I heard. Nope. I'm just going with whatever I'm feeling in the moment. And while that feels perfectly natural in that moment, the moments following whatever outburst occurs are pretty surreal. Some days I know I'm being unreasonable and irrational and I warn my partner in advance. But much of the time I'm apologizing to him after the fact. When I get upset and agitated, he gets upset and agitated -- mainly because until recently, I rarely ever got upset and agitated, and when I did, it was usually for a very obvious reason, and now all of a sudden I'm getting all worked-up and he has no idea why, which makes him feel attacked and/or anxious.
In some ways it is comical. I'm being what he considers a typical female right now -- so maybe I've not gone as far off my rocker as I think. He's mentioned how my emotional reactivity during pregnancy makes him appreciate just how even-tempered I normally am. And of course he's looking forward to the day I return to my normal self. I had to warn him last night that it may be a while, since breastfeeding will almost certainly prolong the duration of hormone-related emotions. I'm hoping I'll have developed a new strategy for coping with it before the baby is born. I'm probably being overly optimistic, though.
Bottom line, being in control of myself is very important to me, and I'm feeling powerless to control myself. Fortunately, my partner is being understanding. For now, anyway ;)
Most of the women I know have taken this escalation in stride, but I'm having real difficulties with it. I'm not normally an emotionally reactive person. I worked hard to put filters in place between impulse and action, and I usually do a good job of examining both my emotional responses, and the appropriateness of the actions I want to take. I understand that my thoughts and attitudes are causal forces in my life, and that while I may not have control over how I feel about something, I do have control over how I react. And how I react creates my life.
Enter pregnancy.
Context, contemplation, and understanding of the subjective nature of personal reality have taken a back seat to impulse. No more taking a moment to check-in and ask myself if that person really meant to say what I think I heard. Nope. I'm just going with whatever I'm feeling in the moment. And while that feels perfectly natural in that moment, the moments following whatever outburst occurs are pretty surreal. Some days I know I'm being unreasonable and irrational and I warn my partner in advance. But much of the time I'm apologizing to him after the fact. When I get upset and agitated, he gets upset and agitated -- mainly because until recently, I rarely ever got upset and agitated, and when I did, it was usually for a very obvious reason, and now all of a sudden I'm getting all worked-up and he has no idea why, which makes him feel attacked and/or anxious.
In some ways it is comical. I'm being what he considers a typical female right now -- so maybe I've not gone as far off my rocker as I think. He's mentioned how my emotional reactivity during pregnancy makes him appreciate just how even-tempered I normally am. And of course he's looking forward to the day I return to my normal self. I had to warn him last night that it may be a while, since breastfeeding will almost certainly prolong the duration of hormone-related emotions. I'm hoping I'll have developed a new strategy for coping with it before the baby is born. I'm probably being overly optimistic, though.
Bottom line, being in control of myself is very important to me, and I'm feeling powerless to control myself. Fortunately, my partner is being understanding. For now, anyway ;)
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Controlling Food Cravings & Using Artificial Sweeteners
A friend read my Weight management during pregnancy post and commented that "everybody could use advice on how to curb cravings. What do you mean by "redirect and relent?" This is a good question and as I was writing my response to him I realized that it would make a good blog topic, especially for women who are pregnant.
The content in my previous post that prompted his query was:
Redirect: This strategy starts with a question: Am I really hungry, or am I bored/nervous/upset? If the answer is yes, I really am hungry, then I try to redirect focus from the death-by-chocolate cake I am craving to a protein or granola bar or a piece of fresh fruit--ie, to something healthier that tastes good, too. If the answer is no, I'm not hungry, I'm bored/anxious/whatever, then I redirect to an activity that gets my mind and/or body off the comfort-food focus. Depending on the craving and the reason, I may meditate to calm myself, or take a 5-minute yoga break, or go for a walk, do some weeding/chores, take a bath, masturbate, or take a time-out to touch base with what is really going on inside me (ie administer some emotional first aid).
Relent: Relent, for me, comes after multiple attempts to redirect. If I've eaten my healthy mandarin and I've done my chores and I've finished writing an email or whatever other tasks I've put to myself to in order to get my mind off the craving and I still want that cake (especially if I've craved it for a few days), I'll go buy a single-serving cupcake or something, both as acceptance of the craving, and as reward for the work I've done to earn it. If I absolutely have to have a slice of that $20 death-by-chocolate cake and they don't sell it by the slice, I'll buy it at the bakery, ask them to slice me a piece, and then give the rest away to the people working there, or as samples for their customers. (Yes, it raises eyebrows, but no one has refused me yet.) Then I relish my $20 piece of cake, eating it slowly, savoring every bite. I don't bring home more than one serving of a craved food anymore. It's too easy to say to myself, "Oh, I'll bring this whole cake home and share it with my family" and then end up eating more than one serving because I don't want it to go to waste or because it is just that good.
I suppose I should have the self-discipline to be able to eat just one serving of something I crave and leave the rest alone for others or for another time, but I don't. And I am self-aware enough to accept that. I'm also self-loving enough to get over the whole self-sabotage / self-punishing thing for my supposed lack of will-power, no longer hating myself even as I am rewarding myself with a tasty treat. Today, I allow myself to eat that thing I really want, but just one small serving. And I give away or toss away the rest. I may feel a little foolish for eating what amounts to a $20 slice of cake -but- I figure that it's $18 worth of extra calories I'm not adding to my waistline, and given the work I have to do to take off just one pound, it's f-ing worth it.
So--this is how I've learned to deal with food cravings over the years, and how I'm managing not to gain weight during my pregnancy. I practice self-awareness and self-acceptance, a bit of self-discipline, and a lot of self-love. I'm as flawed, outrageous, and complex as the next person, and what works for me may not work for others. Still, it's worth sharing if even just one person benefits from it.
One, when we taste something sweet, our bodies begin to produce insulin, the hormone that helps the body to absorb sugars (glucose) and fats. When the anticipated glucose does not appear, the insulin continues to cycle through our bloodstream, stimulating the synthesis of fats and glycogen. This causes the body to stockpile fats and can also cause low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) because the insulin is acting on the sources of sugar that were pre-existing in the blood, rather than on new sugars entering via the digestive system. Excess insulin can also cause insulin resistance (pre-cursor to Type 2 Diabetes) and metabolic syndrome. It also appears to be tied to or may amplify the endocrine disorder PCOS (poly-cystic ovary syndrome), because whatever insulin doesn't dock with your cells is cleared out of your system by your liver and kidneys, and when scavenged by the liver, may be re-synthesized into the excess androgens, testosterone, and estrogen characteristic of PCOS.
Two, as artificially-synthesized sweeteners are metabolized by the body, they produce by-products that can negatively impact your health. We know, for example, that saccharine can cause cancer, but most people do not know that aspartame (NutraSweet) is broken down into amino acids, methanol, formaldehyde, and formic acid, all of which can be harmful to people depending on the amount ingested and their individual sensitivities to them. Aspartame aggravates phenylketonuria, is thought to aggravate mood disorders due to possible effects on neurotransmitters, and produces side effects like headaches. Read the Aspartame Controversy for more information, and read up on the next-generation of aspartame, called Neotame here. Sucralose (Splenda) while perhaps less alarming and more natural seeming with its "made from sugar" advertising, is still potentially harmful. It is basically chlorinated sugar, and chlorine isn't good for you (think bleach). Sucralose has been shown to reduce pH in the bowels and thus the beneficial bacteria existing there, and impact levels of P-glycoprotein which is an important transporter protein for ATP and other compounds used by the brain, adrenal glands, and intestines.
Three, using artificial sweeteners as a tool for weight-reduction is an epic failure. They do exactly the opposite of what we're told to expect. There are many, many studies out there which demonstrate that people who use sugar substitutes actually gain more weight than people who stick with sugar. Why? There are several schools of thought on this. The most plausible is that because artificial sweeteners are sweeter than sugar, people routinely ingesting the uber-sweetness become used to it, so that when they do eat sugar-sweetened things, they eat more sugary stuff to satisfy that sweetness-craving. Another likely possibility is that sweet-taste-to-insulin-production link I mentioned above. More insulin in the body equals more fat uptake and more sugar uptake. An increase in sugar uptake results in low-blood sugar, which means people eat more sugar or sugar substitute to get rid of that shaky feeling. Which leads to yet another reason why artificial sweeteners lead to weight gain: because the body needs sugar and if it doesn't get it, it keeps prompting us to eat until it gets what it needs. And finally, sweeteners, like salt and MSG, are flavor-enhancers that stimulate people's food-enjoyment and this encourages them to eat more. So basically, however you look at it, people are eating excess calories because they are trying to reduce excess calories through low-calorie sugar-substitutes. It works on livestock. Lots of artificial sweeteners are being added to cattle-feed because they are known to fatten the animals up (The link goes to a .pdf article from 2000 by a German company). Really. It sounds pretty bizarre, but it also makes sense, doesn't it?
I've made the above information as un-wonky as I possibly can. I'm fortunate to have a background in biochemistry and genetics, so I understand the technical-jargon and try to translate it into common-speech.
The content in my previous post that prompted his query was:
I've also got the weight-maintenance tools I've picked up the past few years. I've learned how to handle cravings, for example. I know when to re-direct and when to relent. I know when to stop indulging (most of the time) and I know when to get rid of something tasty because I can't resist the temptation to keep indulging.
Redirect: This strategy starts with a question: Am I really hungry, or am I bored/nervous/upset? If the answer is yes, I really am hungry, then I try to redirect focus from the death-by-chocolate cake I am craving to a protein or granola bar or a piece of fresh fruit--ie, to something healthier that tastes good, too. If the answer is no, I'm not hungry, I'm bored/anxious/whatever, then I redirect to an activity that gets my mind and/or body off the comfort-food focus. Depending on the craving and the reason, I may meditate to calm myself, or take a 5-minute yoga break, or go for a walk, do some weeding/chores, take a bath, masturbate, or take a time-out to touch base with what is really going on inside me (ie administer some emotional first aid).
Relent: Relent, for me, comes after multiple attempts to redirect. If I've eaten my healthy mandarin and I've done my chores and I've finished writing an email or whatever other tasks I've put to myself to in order to get my mind off the craving and I still want that cake (especially if I've craved it for a few days), I'll go buy a single-serving cupcake or something, both as acceptance of the craving, and as reward for the work I've done to earn it. If I absolutely have to have a slice of that $20 death-by-chocolate cake and they don't sell it by the slice, I'll buy it at the bakery, ask them to slice me a piece, and then give the rest away to the people working there, or as samples for their customers. (Yes, it raises eyebrows, but no one has refused me yet.) Then I relish my $20 piece of cake, eating it slowly, savoring every bite. I don't bring home more than one serving of a craved food anymore. It's too easy to say to myself, "Oh, I'll bring this whole cake home and share it with my family" and then end up eating more than one serving because I don't want it to go to waste or because it is just that good.
I suppose I should have the self-discipline to be able to eat just one serving of something I crave and leave the rest alone for others or for another time, but I don't. And I am self-aware enough to accept that. I'm also self-loving enough to get over the whole self-sabotage / self-punishing thing for my supposed lack of will-power, no longer hating myself even as I am rewarding myself with a tasty treat. Today, I allow myself to eat that thing I really want, but just one small serving. And I give away or toss away the rest. I may feel a little foolish for eating what amounts to a $20 slice of cake -but- I figure that it's $18 worth of extra calories I'm not adding to my waistline, and given the work I have to do to take off just one pound, it's f-ing worth it.
So--this is how I've learned to deal with food cravings over the years, and how I'm managing not to gain weight during my pregnancy. I practice self-awareness and self-acceptance, a bit of self-discipline, and a lot of self-love. I'm as flawed, outrageous, and complex as the next person, and what works for me may not work for others. Still, it's worth sharing if even just one person benefits from it.
Artificial Sweeteners, and why you might want to reconsider using them:
I do not use diet products with artificial sweeteners, even natural substitutes like stevia, for three reasons.One, when we taste something sweet, our bodies begin to produce insulin, the hormone that helps the body to absorb sugars (glucose) and fats. When the anticipated glucose does not appear, the insulin continues to cycle through our bloodstream, stimulating the synthesis of fats and glycogen. This causes the body to stockpile fats and can also cause low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) because the insulin is acting on the sources of sugar that were pre-existing in the blood, rather than on new sugars entering via the digestive system. Excess insulin can also cause insulin resistance (pre-cursor to Type 2 Diabetes) and metabolic syndrome. It also appears to be tied to or may amplify the endocrine disorder PCOS (poly-cystic ovary syndrome), because whatever insulin doesn't dock with your cells is cleared out of your system by your liver and kidneys, and when scavenged by the liver, may be re-synthesized into the excess androgens, testosterone, and estrogen characteristic of PCOS.
Two, as artificially-synthesized sweeteners are metabolized by the body, they produce by-products that can negatively impact your health. We know, for example, that saccharine can cause cancer, but most people do not know that aspartame (NutraSweet) is broken down into amino acids, methanol, formaldehyde, and formic acid, all of which can be harmful to people depending on the amount ingested and their individual sensitivities to them. Aspartame aggravates phenylketonuria, is thought to aggravate mood disorders due to possible effects on neurotransmitters, and produces side effects like headaches. Read the Aspartame Controversy for more information, and read up on the next-generation of aspartame, called Neotame here. Sucralose (Splenda) while perhaps less alarming and more natural seeming with its "made from sugar" advertising, is still potentially harmful. It is basically chlorinated sugar, and chlorine isn't good for you (think bleach). Sucralose has been shown to reduce pH in the bowels and thus the beneficial bacteria existing there, and impact levels of P-glycoprotein which is an important transporter protein for ATP and other compounds used by the brain, adrenal glands, and intestines.
Three, using artificial sweeteners as a tool for weight-reduction is an epic failure. They do exactly the opposite of what we're told to expect. There are many, many studies out there which demonstrate that people who use sugar substitutes actually gain more weight than people who stick with sugar. Why? There are several schools of thought on this. The most plausible is that because artificial sweeteners are sweeter than sugar, people routinely ingesting the uber-sweetness become used to it, so that when they do eat sugar-sweetened things, they eat more sugary stuff to satisfy that sweetness-craving. Another likely possibility is that sweet-taste-to-insulin-production link I mentioned above. More insulin in the body equals more fat uptake and more sugar uptake. An increase in sugar uptake results in low-blood sugar, which means people eat more sugar or sugar substitute to get rid of that shaky feeling. Which leads to yet another reason why artificial sweeteners lead to weight gain: because the body needs sugar and if it doesn't get it, it keeps prompting us to eat until it gets what it needs. And finally, sweeteners, like salt and MSG, are flavor-enhancers that stimulate people's food-enjoyment and this encourages them to eat more. So basically, however you look at it, people are eating excess calories because they are trying to reduce excess calories through low-calorie sugar-substitutes. It works on livestock. Lots of artificial sweeteners are being added to cattle-feed because they are known to fatten the animals up (The link goes to a .pdf article from 2000 by a German company). Really. It sounds pretty bizarre, but it also makes sense, doesn't it?
I've made the above information as un-wonky as I possibly can. I'm fortunate to have a background in biochemistry and genetics, so I understand the technical-jargon and try to translate it into common-speech.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
On being Pro-life and Pro-choice
I am an ordained minister and I advocate for women's rights. I consider myself both Pro-Life and Pro-Choice.
Allow me to explain this seeming paradox:
Pro-Choice
I believe in a woman's right to exercise control over her own body, and to determine for herself and her unborn child if the pregnancy should proceed or not. I believe -- no, I know -- that such a decision is not an easy one... I know this not only from conversations with women who have wrestled with this, but from my own personal experiences these past couple of months.
Finding myself unexpectedly pregnant in my 40s was very difficult. It felt like a mixed-blessing. My background in genetics made me all too aware of the higher risks of genetic abnormalities in the fetus: 40 year old eggs just don't recombine and transcribe DNA as well as 20 year old eggs do. Additionally, I'm not economically self-supporting right now. I've given up trying to find work in my previous profession while trying to build up an e-commerce business and a web content development consultancy. I'm not married to the father of the baby, and he's much younger than I am. The planet is full of wars and too many people and inhumanity and hypocrisy and indifference and environmental degradation and I really had to consider whether or not it was responsible of me to bring a child into such a heavily-burdened world.
I'm grateful I had the choice whether or not to proceed with the pregnancy if the genetic testing came back with bad news, or the baby's father didn't want the child, or I was completely destitute, or the world seemed poised on the edge of catastrophic meltdown. I'm grateful that people who think I shouldn't have that choice -- a choice exercised by women for tens of thousands of years, by the way -- don't have the power to enforce their personal preferences on me. At least for now.
Pro-Life
I believe that life is a wondrous thing, be it a single-celled bacterium, a seedling, or a fetus. I cherish it. I see God in it. I understand that even as this planet seems to be teeming with life, life as we recognize it is incredibly rare in this universe. I believe that if a pregnant woman has the ability and resources to raise a child in a safe, healthy environment, that she should proceed with the pregnancy. But in contrast with most people who self-identify as Pro-Life, my advocacy doesn't begin at conception and end at birth.
The born need Pro-Life advocacy as well, and it is my belief that if we focus on seeing that the basic needs of all born persons are met from birth forward, we'll have a world in which women won't see abortion as a necessary evil. I believe it is near-sighted and irresponsible to focus on preventing women from being able to choose whether or not to proceed with a pregnancy while ignoring the reasons why so many women see abortion as a necessity.
Simply put, I believe that people who are truly Pro-Life dedicate themselves to finding solutions to the reasons behind the perceived need for abortion instead of targeting the procedure and the women who consider it. Otherwise we're at best treating the symptoms of social ills while perpetuating the cycle we're trying to break. We need to get off our self-righteous soapboxes and hold out our hands to those in need of hope, means, and improved circumstances. We must not only recognize the need to change the world for the better, but to actually work at making it a better place to live and raise children. Anyone who does less isn't really Pro-Life -- he or she is just a small-souled hypocrite looking for a way to feel better about himself and his inaction by making others 'wrong.' And that isn't going to win anyone points Heaven -- In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned against such hypocrisy, stating there would be no reward from the Father who is in Heaven for self-righteous posturing (Matthew 6:1-6).
To my Evangelical Pro-Life counterparts
We live in a world in which women are routinely raped, abused, condescended to, economically disadvantaged, and politically disempowered. Telling women they're going to burn in hell for aborting a pregnancy when they're already living in difficult -- if not hellish -- circumstances is not the way to inspire unfortunate women to bring a new life into the world.
Jesus was a radical advocate in the fair treatment of women, especially for his time. He trusted women. He accepted women into his inner circle, he taught women (even prostitutes!), he treated them as equals, and perhaps most importantly, the first people he revealed himself to after the Resurrection were women (Matthew 28:9-10). Do you think he forgot that when most of his male followers had fled the scene, it was women who held steadfast to bear witness to his crucifixion? Be careful in your thoughts and attitudes and actions towards women, pregnant or not. I've a feeling come Judgement Day many millions of Christians are in for an unpleasant surprise.
If you are truly Christian, you will be loving toward those who are poor or troubled in spirit, and even those whom you consider your enemies and evil-doers. For even as Christ's blood washed away the sins of humanity, he passed down a new and very simple law: "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:34-35) "But love your enemies, and do good, and lend expecting nothing in return; and your reward in heaven will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men." (Luke 6:35)
Christians do not condemn nor judge. It is not our place. We are told this time and again in the scriptures. ("He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone at her." John 8:7) We are told to forgive, lest we be denied forgiveness ourselves. "But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." (Matthew 6:15) How can we condemn others (ie abortionists) and expect that we will be forgiven for that when Jesus unequivocally states that he will not do so?
And lastly, ignore Matthew 25:31-46 at your peril. Remember, Jesus proclaimed that how you treat the unfortunate is how you treat Jesus himself, and if you fail to help the least of these, he promises to send you to the place of eternal fire where the devil dwells. We can interpret "the least of these" to include the unborn (though Jesus never explicitly spoke of children not born) but to exclude the born in your powerful concern is a willful denial of Jesus instruction that does lead straight to Hell. The Bible tells us so.
A final bit of food for thought: When it comes to reproductive organs, there are equivalencies between men and women: penis and clitoris, testicles and ovaries. But with regards to the uterus, God entrusted only women with wombs. He must have had His reasons for this trust in women, and I do not think that what women do with their wombs or His Trust should be questioned. It is between Woman and God.
Allow me to explain this seeming paradox:
Pro-Choice
I believe in a woman's right to exercise control over her own body, and to determine for herself and her unborn child if the pregnancy should proceed or not. I believe -- no, I know -- that such a decision is not an easy one... I know this not only from conversations with women who have wrestled with this, but from my own personal experiences these past couple of months.
Finding myself unexpectedly pregnant in my 40s was very difficult. It felt like a mixed-blessing. My background in genetics made me all too aware of the higher risks of genetic abnormalities in the fetus: 40 year old eggs just don't recombine and transcribe DNA as well as 20 year old eggs do. Additionally, I'm not economically self-supporting right now. I've given up trying to find work in my previous profession while trying to build up an e-commerce business and a web content development consultancy. I'm not married to the father of the baby, and he's much younger than I am. The planet is full of wars and too many people and inhumanity and hypocrisy and indifference and environmental degradation and I really had to consider whether or not it was responsible of me to bring a child into such a heavily-burdened world.
I'm grateful I had the choice whether or not to proceed with the pregnancy if the genetic testing came back with bad news, or the baby's father didn't want the child, or I was completely destitute, or the world seemed poised on the edge of catastrophic meltdown. I'm grateful that people who think I shouldn't have that choice -- a choice exercised by women for tens of thousands of years, by the way -- don't have the power to enforce their personal preferences on me. At least for now.
Pro-Life
I believe that life is a wondrous thing, be it a single-celled bacterium, a seedling, or a fetus. I cherish it. I see God in it. I understand that even as this planet seems to be teeming with life, life as we recognize it is incredibly rare in this universe. I believe that if a pregnant woman has the ability and resources to raise a child in a safe, healthy environment, that she should proceed with the pregnancy. But in contrast with most people who self-identify as Pro-Life, my advocacy doesn't begin at conception and end at birth.
The born need Pro-Life advocacy as well, and it is my belief that if we focus on seeing that the basic needs of all born persons are met from birth forward, we'll have a world in which women won't see abortion as a necessary evil. I believe it is near-sighted and irresponsible to focus on preventing women from being able to choose whether or not to proceed with a pregnancy while ignoring the reasons why so many women see abortion as a necessity.
Simply put, I believe that people who are truly Pro-Life dedicate themselves to finding solutions to the reasons behind the perceived need for abortion instead of targeting the procedure and the women who consider it. Otherwise we're at best treating the symptoms of social ills while perpetuating the cycle we're trying to break. We need to get off our self-righteous soapboxes and hold out our hands to those in need of hope, means, and improved circumstances. We must not only recognize the need to change the world for the better, but to actually work at making it a better place to live and raise children. Anyone who does less isn't really Pro-Life -- he or she is just a small-souled hypocrite looking for a way to feel better about himself and his inaction by making others 'wrong.' And that isn't going to win anyone points Heaven -- In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned against such hypocrisy, stating there would be no reward from the Father who is in Heaven for self-righteous posturing (Matthew 6:1-6).
To my Evangelical Pro-Life counterparts
We live in a world in which women are routinely raped, abused, condescended to, economically disadvantaged, and politically disempowered. Telling women they're going to burn in hell for aborting a pregnancy when they're already living in difficult -- if not hellish -- circumstances is not the way to inspire unfortunate women to bring a new life into the world.
Jesus was a radical advocate in the fair treatment of women, especially for his time. He trusted women. He accepted women into his inner circle, he taught women (even prostitutes!), he treated them as equals, and perhaps most importantly, the first people he revealed himself to after the Resurrection were women (Matthew 28:9-10). Do you think he forgot that when most of his male followers had fled the scene, it was women who held steadfast to bear witness to his crucifixion? Be careful in your thoughts and attitudes and actions towards women, pregnant or not. I've a feeling come Judgement Day many millions of Christians are in for an unpleasant surprise.
If you are truly Christian, you will be loving toward those who are poor or troubled in spirit, and even those whom you consider your enemies and evil-doers. For even as Christ's blood washed away the sins of humanity, he passed down a new and very simple law: "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:34-35) "But love your enemies, and do good, and lend expecting nothing in return; and your reward in heaven will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men." (Luke 6:35)
Christians do not condemn nor judge. It is not our place. We are told this time and again in the scriptures. ("He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone at her." John 8:7) We are told to forgive, lest we be denied forgiveness ourselves. "But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." (Matthew 6:15) How can we condemn others (ie abortionists) and expect that we will be forgiven for that when Jesus unequivocally states that he will not do so?
And lastly, ignore Matthew 25:31-46 at your peril. Remember, Jesus proclaimed that how you treat the unfortunate is how you treat Jesus himself, and if you fail to help the least of these, he promises to send you to the place of eternal fire where the devil dwells. We can interpret "the least of these" to include the unborn (though Jesus never explicitly spoke of children not born) but to exclude the born in your powerful concern is a willful denial of Jesus instruction that does lead straight to Hell. The Bible tells us so.
A final bit of food for thought: When it comes to reproductive organs, there are equivalencies between men and women: penis and clitoris, testicles and ovaries. But with regards to the uterus, God entrusted only women with wombs. He must have had His reasons for this trust in women, and I do not think that what women do with their wombs or His Trust should be questioned. It is between Woman and God.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Weight management during pregnancy
Late in the week I really started to feel pregnant. I can feel the rounded hardness of my uterus, see it protruding a bit (though not past my breasts), and notice that it's starting to affect the way I walk. I can't stabilize my torso/core using my abdominal muscles the way I normally do, so I'm holding my back and shoulders differently, and trying not to do the side-to-side waddle. At least, not yet.
Oh, and I feel really bloated. When I went in to see the obstetrician Friday I thought for sure she'd tell me I'd gained 10 pounds this month, that is how bloated I feel. But I've actually dropped two pounds. I'm about a 1/2 pound from my weight prior to going to Bali in October, and on target for a zero to 10 lbs net weight gain for my pregnancy.
Some people are really bothered that I'm trying not to gain any weight during this pregnancy, especially my friends and family who are nurses. They're worried I'm letting vanity get in the way of a healthy baby. It's not about vanity though, it's about having a healthy pregnancy. I worked really hard last year to lose weight and I dropped over 40 pounds. I could stand to lose 40 more -- in fact, that was my goal for 2012, before I found out I was pregnant in mid-December. I don't want to regain that weight and then have to lose it all over again, and I know that in my 40's the extra weight (and the extra calories and carbohydrates that cause the extra weight) can cause complications (such as gestational diabetes) that I'm desperate to avoid.
So I'm working with my obstetrician and my perinatologist and a dietician and a medical nutritionist to make sure I'm meeting my nutritional needs. I'm getting growth ultrasounds to make sure the baby is the right size for his age. I'm getting monthly blood and urine tests. I'm doing everything I can to make sure we're having a healthy baby -- I'm even avoiding 'diet' products that contain artificial sweeteners because of the metabolic byproducts. (For more on the subject of artificial sweeteners, see the last half of this Unintentional Mother post.)
I've also got the weight-maintenance tools I've picked up the past few years. I've learned how to handle cravings, for example. I know when to re-direct and when to relent. I know when to stop indulging (most of the time) and I know when to get rid of something tasty because I can't resist the temptation to keep indulging.
I think a lot of women gain 30+ pounds during pregnancy because they aren't in the habit of fighting cravings, and helpless under the hormonal and hunger-pang onslaught, they indulge, and indulge, and indulge. And that's ok. My sisters gained 50+ pounds with their first pregnancies. They lost it all, eventually, but one of them developed toxemia in all three of her pregnancies. They were also 20 years younger than I am now -- and I can't afford to wallow in a pint of ice cream a day, as tempting as that sounds ;)
I fully expect to put on some weight in my last trimester (which begins in a couple of weeks) because that is when the baby starts building subcutaneous fat and putting on his weight. But I'm doing everything I can to keep it under 10 pounds. For both the baby and me.
Oh, and I feel really bloated. When I went in to see the obstetrician Friday I thought for sure she'd tell me I'd gained 10 pounds this month, that is how bloated I feel. But I've actually dropped two pounds. I'm about a 1/2 pound from my weight prior to going to Bali in October, and on target for a zero to 10 lbs net weight gain for my pregnancy.
Some people are really bothered that I'm trying not to gain any weight during this pregnancy, especially my friends and family who are nurses. They're worried I'm letting vanity get in the way of a healthy baby. It's not about vanity though, it's about having a healthy pregnancy. I worked really hard last year to lose weight and I dropped over 40 pounds. I could stand to lose 40 more -- in fact, that was my goal for 2012, before I found out I was pregnant in mid-December. I don't want to regain that weight and then have to lose it all over again, and I know that in my 40's the extra weight (and the extra calories and carbohydrates that cause the extra weight) can cause complications (such as gestational diabetes) that I'm desperate to avoid.
So I'm working with my obstetrician and my perinatologist and a dietician and a medical nutritionist to make sure I'm meeting my nutritional needs. I'm getting growth ultrasounds to make sure the baby is the right size for his age. I'm getting monthly blood and urine tests. I'm doing everything I can to make sure we're having a healthy baby -- I'm even avoiding 'diet' products that contain artificial sweeteners because of the metabolic byproducts. (For more on the subject of artificial sweeteners, see the last half of this Unintentional Mother post.)
I've also got the weight-maintenance tools I've picked up the past few years. I've learned how to handle cravings, for example. I know when to re-direct and when to relent. I know when to stop indulging (most of the time) and I know when to get rid of something tasty because I can't resist the temptation to keep indulging.
I think a lot of women gain 30+ pounds during pregnancy because they aren't in the habit of fighting cravings, and helpless under the hormonal and hunger-pang onslaught, they indulge, and indulge, and indulge. And that's ok. My sisters gained 50+ pounds with their first pregnancies. They lost it all, eventually, but one of them developed toxemia in all three of her pregnancies. They were also 20 years younger than I am now -- and I can't afford to wallow in a pint of ice cream a day, as tempting as that sounds ;)
I fully expect to put on some weight in my last trimester (which begins in a couple of weeks) because that is when the baby starts building subcutaneous fat and putting on his weight. But I'm doing everything I can to keep it under 10 pounds. For both the baby and me.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Is it responsible to bring a child into this world?
I'm working to resolve my pregnancy ambivalency. On the one hand, it's a wonderful, exciting, and beautiful gift to grow a new life within my own body. On the other hand, I'm concerned about what happens to that new life once he's born. What kind of future is he being born into? Is it responsible to bring a child into this world?
One of my serious reservations about bringing more children into the world is my awareness of the unsustainability of the American lifestyle and the effect that over-population and resource depletion is having on the planet.
I worked for nearly 7 years with inner-city kids. They amazed me very day, and broke my heart every day. I knew that for some, the meals we gave them were the only meals they'd have that day. I knew that for others, the attention we gave them was the only healthy adult interaction they had. I saw desperate parents working two and three jobs, single mothers going to school to try to provide better lives for their children, and, yes, I saw the crack-addicted parents, and the pimps and exploited women, and the drug-dealing teen gangers. It broke my heart, knowing what my kids went home to every night. And it gave me hope, seeing how much those children wanted to thrive, how hard some of them worked at school, and how readily they responded to positive feedback and influences. Many of my kids finished high school. Some died before they were 18 due to accidents, neglect, and violence. Some went on to college and climbed out of the ghetto. Some ended up as parents before their mid-teens.
Scarcity of resources and opportunity had a lot to do with the conditions in that inner-city -- has a lot to do with what is going on in the world today. As more and more people in developing countries come to enjoy non-subsistence lifestyles, the pressure on the planet grows. And I'm not just talking about things like scarcity of food and water and energy sources. I'm talking about things like the acidification of the oceans.
Ocean acidification is a serious problem no one seems to know about. Current pH levels are already interfering with the ability of corals and mollusks and crustaceans to calcify -- ie, to generate their shells and exoskeletons. It is quite possible that shellfish could become extinct in my son's lifetime -- or at least so rare that they're no longer a foodstuff. Which affects the entire food-chain in unimaginable ways. Humans have used the oceans for waste disposal and now the huge amounts of CO2 that the oceans are absorbing are affecting the basic chemistry of life in those oceans. Combine that with rising temperatures and we're sitting on a time-bomb -- and passing it like a hot-potato down the line for later generations to deal with.
The breakdown of social systems and social responsibility, the breakdown of families and communities, also have a lot to do with the conditions in the inner-city, and the problems in the world today. With the scarcity and hoarding of resources, people and corporations become numb to social ramifications. We become concerned not just with having enough to meet our needs, but more than enough. We want excess. We become obsessed with ourselves and our needs and put them before the needs of our families, communities, and society at large. People not "us" become "other." We dehumanize them so we can see them as little more than bothersome competitors for the better things in life, or worse, tools to be exploited in pursuit of the better things in life. And when enough people do that, we experience what is known as The Tragedy of the Commons. Not to mention wars and human rights violations and famines.
I'm an optimist and a pragmatist, and while I believe in the possibility that humanity will do what we need to do before it is too late, the pragmatist in me recognizes that we're already in a Global Tragedy of the Commons situation. And I'm knowingly bringing a child into this mess.
At this point, I'm choosing to be an optimist, and actively so. I'm re-committing myself to being a responsible consumer. Cloth diapers, not disposable. Recycling and re-purposing. Growing more of my own food. Using renewable, clean energy. Sharing with neighbors. Walking more and driving less.
If I don't, the future just seems too grim, especially for my unborn son, and I'd feel wrong about my decision to bring him into the world.
One of my serious reservations about bringing more children into the world is my awareness of the unsustainability of the American lifestyle and the effect that over-population and resource depletion is having on the planet.
I worked for nearly 7 years with inner-city kids. They amazed me very day, and broke my heart every day. I knew that for some, the meals we gave them were the only meals they'd have that day. I knew that for others, the attention we gave them was the only healthy adult interaction they had. I saw desperate parents working two and three jobs, single mothers going to school to try to provide better lives for their children, and, yes, I saw the crack-addicted parents, and the pimps and exploited women, and the drug-dealing teen gangers. It broke my heart, knowing what my kids went home to every night. And it gave me hope, seeing how much those children wanted to thrive, how hard some of them worked at school, and how readily they responded to positive feedback and influences. Many of my kids finished high school. Some died before they were 18 due to accidents, neglect, and violence. Some went on to college and climbed out of the ghetto. Some ended up as parents before their mid-teens.
Scarcity of resources and opportunity had a lot to do with the conditions in that inner-city -- has a lot to do with what is going on in the world today. As more and more people in developing countries come to enjoy non-subsistence lifestyles, the pressure on the planet grows. And I'm not just talking about things like scarcity of food and water and energy sources. I'm talking about things like the acidification of the oceans.
Ocean acidification is a serious problem no one seems to know about. Current pH levels are already interfering with the ability of corals and mollusks and crustaceans to calcify -- ie, to generate their shells and exoskeletons. It is quite possible that shellfish could become extinct in my son's lifetime -- or at least so rare that they're no longer a foodstuff. Which affects the entire food-chain in unimaginable ways. Humans have used the oceans for waste disposal and now the huge amounts of CO2 that the oceans are absorbing are affecting the basic chemistry of life in those oceans. Combine that with rising temperatures and we're sitting on a time-bomb -- and passing it like a hot-potato down the line for later generations to deal with.
The breakdown of social systems and social responsibility, the breakdown of families and communities, also have a lot to do with the conditions in the inner-city, and the problems in the world today. With the scarcity and hoarding of resources, people and corporations become numb to social ramifications. We become concerned not just with having enough to meet our needs, but more than enough. We want excess. We become obsessed with ourselves and our needs and put them before the needs of our families, communities, and society at large. People not "us" become "other." We dehumanize them so we can see them as little more than bothersome competitors for the better things in life, or worse, tools to be exploited in pursuit of the better things in life. And when enough people do that, we experience what is known as The Tragedy of the Commons. Not to mention wars and human rights violations and famines.
I'm an optimist and a pragmatist, and while I believe in the possibility that humanity will do what we need to do before it is too late, the pragmatist in me recognizes that we're already in a Global Tragedy of the Commons situation. And I'm knowingly bringing a child into this mess.
At this point, I'm choosing to be an optimist, and actively so. I'm re-committing myself to being a responsible consumer. Cloth diapers, not disposable. Recycling and re-purposing. Growing more of my own food. Using renewable, clean energy. Sharing with neighbors. Walking more and driving less.
If I don't, the future just seems too grim, especially for my unborn son, and I'd feel wrong about my decision to bring him into the world.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Observations on being 23 weeks pregnant at 43
I suppose it's just as well that I don't have a 9-to-5 job, because I find myself needing a nap every afternoon. My OB was very clear with me that since this is a high-risk pregnancy I should rest when my body tells me I need to rest. So afternoon naps it is. Sleeping is an interesting experience now, because I am normally a back sleeper and now the baby is getting big enough for my uterus to press against the nerves that run down my legs, making them tingle. I'm mostly sleeping on my side now -- until my bladder decides it's time to void it.
I've also started wearing a bra to bed so my breasts don't hurt -- which they do when I sleep on my side for any length of time. Catch-22.
I'm having vivid dreams. I often lay half-awake under the influence of a dream, thinking about something or someone. This morning it was a "Children of Men" type of dream. War-torn environment, holed up in a room feeling frightened and big with child... M got up to intercept someone coming our direction and he was dragged off, fighting. My terror spiked and I knew I needed to stay calm, but I couldn't, so I found myself screaming for Dato -- he has a very deep calm. I woke up with his name right there on the front of my brain. I was worried that my psychic scream might have woken him up where he was sleeping 700 miles away, it was that strong.
I can't suck-in my stomach anymore, either. There just isn't any place for it to go. No more sit-ups, so I'm doing reverse ones -- raising my knees toward my torso as close as I can. I'm hating lap belts when I drive, too. I don't like that pressure low on my pelvis. It feels... off. It also seems to contribute to the "I need to pee" feeling. I'm tempted to just go with the shoulder restraint only.
My hair is growing fast, which I like, but so are my nails, which I'm not so keen about. I'm clipping them daily, it seems. The best news is that I'm not getting any of the acne some women get when they're pregnant. I think it helps that I don't wear make-up.
I find that I'm walking slower, and more carefully. I can feel the baby-weight in front of me a bit, and when I go for long walks I can feel the muscles / ligaments are getting tender -- stretching. My joints are loosening up and my knees hurt much of the time. Curling up on the couch with a heated throw blanket really seems to help, though.
My libido is also raging. I think I'd have sex all day if I could, but as it is, I'm masturbating almost daily. Multiple orgasms are a breeze right now. An old lover of mine told me that when his ex-wife was pregnant he made it his mission to give her an orgasm every day. He said a happy mommy makes a happy baby. Smart man!
Food cravings are ranging from CPK chopped salads to candied ginger to dark chocolate with sea salt. I picked up some frozen greek yogurt bars at Costco to deal with the ice cream cravings. They're 70 calories and 9 grams of protein, so I feel pretty good about having one.
That nesting-instinct thing is hitting me pretty hard these days. I have this urge to get things done -now-. I just hired a landscaper to come in and re-sod the front yard later this month. I had the fruit trees sprayed yesterday. I've been using the weed-eater and the hedge trimmer and the hula hoe in daily binges -- part exercise, part OCD. I've ordered some trees, even. Two flowering cherries and an Owari mandarin. The flowering cherries (Prunus pendula) will go out front at end of the month, and when the mandarin comes in from Monrovia we'll plant it near the patio, next to the lemon bottlebrush tree (Callistemon citrinus). We'll plant pear trees next year, I think, to compliment the peach and plum we already have, and to give some shade to the back yard, which faces south.
Inside, I've torn up my bedroom. I'm going through anything still in boxes and deciding what to keep and what to donate. I might just have a garage sale, actually. I have so many boxes of my grandmother's things -- china and silver and other things I'm unlikely to ever use but can't seem to part with, so they're being stacked up in the big closet in the room we've taken over as an office. I've never been much of a hoarder, except for books, and fortunately I found homes for about 2000 books last year. The ones I have left are things like signed first editions and out-of-print books that I may just pack up to keep safe from baby-fingers. And to make room for storing baby things. My Ikea Expedit bookshelf fits most baskets so it converts easily to other uses.
I've looked at the courses that Kaiser offers for new parents and I'll take them in March and April I think -- Labor and Delivery tours, newborn care, and breastfeeding. I think M will do the first two with me. That is my preference at least, and since I rarely state preferences, he usually pays attention when I do.
I'm getting a bit anxious about the whole birthing thing, not the pain so much as things like tearing versus episiotomy, the possibility of C-section if there is fetal distress, and choosing a birthing partner with both of my sisters out of the picture. M's empathy and sensitivities are likely to make him unsuitable as a partner for the entire process. He's confessed to a preference for the 1950's cigar-in-hand waiting room level of involvement, and I'm ok with that :) We've only known about the baby for 6 or 7 weeks now, so there is still so much adjusting to do, unintentional parents that we are.
I've also started wearing a bra to bed so my breasts don't hurt -- which they do when I sleep on my side for any length of time. Catch-22.
I'm having vivid dreams. I often lay half-awake under the influence of a dream, thinking about something or someone. This morning it was a "Children of Men" type of dream. War-torn environment, holed up in a room feeling frightened and big with child... M got up to intercept someone coming our direction and he was dragged off, fighting. My terror spiked and I knew I needed to stay calm, but I couldn't, so I found myself screaming for Dato -- he has a very deep calm. I woke up with his name right there on the front of my brain. I was worried that my psychic scream might have woken him up where he was sleeping 700 miles away, it was that strong.
I can't suck-in my stomach anymore, either. There just isn't any place for it to go. No more sit-ups, so I'm doing reverse ones -- raising my knees toward my torso as close as I can. I'm hating lap belts when I drive, too. I don't like that pressure low on my pelvis. It feels... off. It also seems to contribute to the "I need to pee" feeling. I'm tempted to just go with the shoulder restraint only.
My hair is growing fast, which I like, but so are my nails, which I'm not so keen about. I'm clipping them daily, it seems. The best news is that I'm not getting any of the acne some women get when they're pregnant. I think it helps that I don't wear make-up.
I find that I'm walking slower, and more carefully. I can feel the baby-weight in front of me a bit, and when I go for long walks I can feel the muscles / ligaments are getting tender -- stretching. My joints are loosening up and my knees hurt much of the time. Curling up on the couch with a heated throw blanket really seems to help, though.
My libido is also raging. I think I'd have sex all day if I could, but as it is, I'm masturbating almost daily. Multiple orgasms are a breeze right now. An old lover of mine told me that when his ex-wife was pregnant he made it his mission to give her an orgasm every day. He said a happy mommy makes a happy baby. Smart man!
Food cravings are ranging from CPK chopped salads to candied ginger to dark chocolate with sea salt. I picked up some frozen greek yogurt bars at Costco to deal with the ice cream cravings. They're 70 calories and 9 grams of protein, so I feel pretty good about having one.
That nesting-instinct thing is hitting me pretty hard these days. I have this urge to get things done -now-. I just hired a landscaper to come in and re-sod the front yard later this month. I had the fruit trees sprayed yesterday. I've been using the weed-eater and the hedge trimmer and the hula hoe in daily binges -- part exercise, part OCD. I've ordered some trees, even. Two flowering cherries and an Owari mandarin. The flowering cherries (Prunus pendula) will go out front at end of the month, and when the mandarin comes in from Monrovia we'll plant it near the patio, next to the lemon bottlebrush tree (Callistemon citrinus). We'll plant pear trees next year, I think, to compliment the peach and plum we already have, and to give some shade to the back yard, which faces south.
Inside, I've torn up my bedroom. I'm going through anything still in boxes and deciding what to keep and what to donate. I might just have a garage sale, actually. I have so many boxes of my grandmother's things -- china and silver and other things I'm unlikely to ever use but can't seem to part with, so they're being stacked up in the big closet in the room we've taken over as an office. I've never been much of a hoarder, except for books, and fortunately I found homes for about 2000 books last year. The ones I have left are things like signed first editions and out-of-print books that I may just pack up to keep safe from baby-fingers. And to make room for storing baby things. My Ikea Expedit bookshelf fits most baskets so it converts easily to other uses.
I've looked at the courses that Kaiser offers for new parents and I'll take them in March and April I think -- Labor and Delivery tours, newborn care, and breastfeeding. I think M will do the first two with me. That is my preference at least, and since I rarely state preferences, he usually pays attention when I do.
I'm getting a bit anxious about the whole birthing thing, not the pain so much as things like tearing versus episiotomy, the possibility of C-section if there is fetal distress, and choosing a birthing partner with both of my sisters out of the picture. M's empathy and sensitivities are likely to make him unsuitable as a partner for the entire process. He's confessed to a preference for the 1950's cigar-in-hand waiting room level of involvement, and I'm ok with that :) We've only known about the baby for 6 or 7 weeks now, so there is still so much adjusting to do, unintentional parents that we are.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Letter #1 to my unborn son
Dear Baby Boy,
In this, our 23rd week together, you are making your presence known, even though I am not obviously pregnant-looking yet. I can feel you moving around, though at this point I can't tell if you are contra-dancing or taiko drumming -- it feels like both sometimes.
It seems like you are going to have your father's sweet-tooth, based on all the sweets-related cravings I'm experiencing right now. In the interests of keeping both of us healthy, however, I'm doing my best to resist. I want to keep my weight and blood-sugar levels down so there's no gestational diabetes or toxemia -- so help me out here and crave chopped salads again, ok?
Gifts from the baby registry have already started arriving. In less than four months you'll be wearing some of these things. They look so tiny, these clothes, which makes the thought of giving birth to you a little less scary, but also makes me fear my natural clumsiness, which is in full-force these days. Babies don't bounce when dropped ;)
I'm avoiding chemicals as much as I can, eating organic as much as I can afford. No artificial sweeteners, no foods nuked in plastic containers, no drinks from plastic bottles. The geneticist and biochemist in me is wary of the possible effects of man-made chemicals on you. Your father has taken over the chemical-related yard duties and even some of the cleaning, too.
Soon we'll start setting up the nursery-zone in my bedroom. I know it seems a bit late in the game to some people, but I've only known you were coming for about 6 weeks now. I want to keep you near for at least the first year, so it will be a while before you get a room of your own.
Love,
Mama
PS: Thanks for letting me sleep through the night last night.
In this, our 23rd week together, you are making your presence known, even though I am not obviously pregnant-looking yet. I can feel you moving around, though at this point I can't tell if you are contra-dancing or taiko drumming -- it feels like both sometimes.
It seems like you are going to have your father's sweet-tooth, based on all the sweets-related cravings I'm experiencing right now. In the interests of keeping both of us healthy, however, I'm doing my best to resist. I want to keep my weight and blood-sugar levels down so there's no gestational diabetes or toxemia -- so help me out here and crave chopped salads again, ok?
Gifts from the baby registry have already started arriving. In less than four months you'll be wearing some of these things. They look so tiny, these clothes, which makes the thought of giving birth to you a little less scary, but also makes me fear my natural clumsiness, which is in full-force these days. Babies don't bounce when dropped ;)
I'm avoiding chemicals as much as I can, eating organic as much as I can afford. No artificial sweeteners, no foods nuked in plastic containers, no drinks from plastic bottles. The geneticist and biochemist in me is wary of the possible effects of man-made chemicals on you. Your father has taken over the chemical-related yard duties and even some of the cleaning, too.
Soon we'll start setting up the nursery-zone in my bedroom. I know it seems a bit late in the game to some people, but I've only known you were coming for about 6 weeks now. I want to keep you near for at least the first year, so it will be a while before you get a room of your own.
Love,
Mama
PS: Thanks for letting me sleep through the night last night.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Pain in the... breast
I have a very high pain tolerance, and I'm very good at
ignoring pain. So good in fact that I almost died a few years ago. I've since learned to
listen to my body better, and to make better determinations as to what pain means (ie something is wrong) and when it is time to do something about it.
For about 6 weeks I've been experiencing pain in one of my breasts, the kind of pain that wakes me up in the middle of the night, moaning and clutching at myself. It took me about a month to determine why one breast was hurting more than the other -- a recurring inflammation / skin infection that I've been trying to get rid of for over a year. It hadn't occurred to me that the infection had penetrated beyond the subcutaneous level until I started feeling pain deeper in my breast.
I told my doctor I wanted it excised but she insisted on trying antibiotics again to clear it up, mainly because it didn't look like much on the surface. After 10 days of Keflex and my second-ever yeast infection I told my doc that the infection had no subsided and requested an outpatient surgery appointment. I got one the next day, and when I went in the nurse who did the preliminary examination said she didn't think it would need to be opened up. I just smiled.
When the surgeon examined me and heard my story, he agreed that the infected area should be removed, but didn't think that the infection went beyond the subcutaneous level. I figured once he had the wound opened, he'd see for sure. And sure enough, the infection had reached into the underlying breast tissue, which explained why I was experiencing so much pain. Fortunately, the high dosage of antibiotics had reduced the inflammation, etc, so the debridement was fairly straight-forward.
Now it's just a matter of more antibiotics and careful watching of the wound. And because I'm pregnant, no oxycodone, just Tylenol for pain. Meh.
For about 6 weeks I've been experiencing pain in one of my breasts, the kind of pain that wakes me up in the middle of the night, moaning and clutching at myself. It took me about a month to determine why one breast was hurting more than the other -- a recurring inflammation / skin infection that I've been trying to get rid of for over a year. It hadn't occurred to me that the infection had penetrated beyond the subcutaneous level until I started feeling pain deeper in my breast.
I told my doctor I wanted it excised but she insisted on trying antibiotics again to clear it up, mainly because it didn't look like much on the surface. After 10 days of Keflex and my second-ever yeast infection I told my doc that the infection had no subsided and requested an outpatient surgery appointment. I got one the next day, and when I went in the nurse who did the preliminary examination said she didn't think it would need to be opened up. I just smiled.
When the surgeon examined me and heard my story, he agreed that the infected area should be removed, but didn't think that the infection went beyond the subcutaneous level. I figured once he had the wound opened, he'd see for sure. And sure enough, the infection had reached into the underlying breast tissue, which explained why I was experiencing so much pain. Fortunately, the high dosage of antibiotics had reduced the inflammation, etc, so the debridement was fairly straight-forward.
Now it's just a matter of more antibiotics and careful watching of the wound. And because I'm pregnant, no oxycodone, just Tylenol for pain. Meh.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Did a wish get me pregnant?
I've loved several people in my life, deeply, with passion and tenderness. I've been in love just once.
I'm still in love. It's an incredible thing to be so open and vulnerable, to love with so few reservations or fears, and to experience for myself the biochemical effects of being emotionally, mentally, and physically all-in with another person.
How could I get pregnant when my infertility was actively demonstrated year after year for two decades? I think it has something to do with the effects of being in love and the power of a wish. For me, anyway. M thinks my theory is a bit silly, but his areas of expertise are mathematics, software development, and computer science. Mine are genetics, biochemistry, and loving.
The more religious members of my family believe that the child is a blessing from G-d, like the son of Abraham and Sarah. I'm not one to believe in divine intervention in the affairs of man, but as a nod to their conviction, perhaps we should name the baby Isaac :)
My doctor says it probably has something to do with the 40# I dropped in 2011. And that could be. Weight loss affects everything from metabolism, to hormone levels, to psychological well-being. But I'm still heavier now than I was in the 1990s, and my partner during those years was quite virile and I swear that we had unprotected sex at least 3000 times in the 6 or 7 years we were together. So while my sudden fertility could be attributed to changes in weight causing changes in my endocrine system, I don't think that's the whole story.
There is a lot of research out there about the biological and biochemical basis of love, and the measurable changes in neurochemistry, hormones, and cellular structure that feeling "love" can produce. I know that for the first time in my life I've felt content with settling down with a specific someone. Not just comfortable or it's cousin complacent, but truly content.
Of the two other men I've been involved with long-term, only one of them I could see myself growing old with, and we were very comfortable together. If we'd been more developed as people and in our communication, we'd probably still be together. But with M there aren't any ifs. We communicate incredibly well. We really get each other. We talk about unmet needs and expectations and ways to fulfill them, including reaching out to others as needed. When we're experiencing our quiet, connected moments the cats come sit nearby and purr, like they just want to be inside that sphere of happiness and well-being. D and I had something similar, but the depth of intimacy with M, and the feeling of harmony and peace, are beyond my prior experience. Being with M makes me feel bone-deep happy and giddy with love.
I'm also a believer in the power of wishing. People often say to be careful what you wish for because it might come true. Wishing or praying or meditating -- focusing the thoughts and the mind intently on something -- is incredibly powerful. From practicing hypnosis I know that the unconscious mind can do amazing things, from creating illness to healing it -- and everything inbetween. I've wished things away and wished things into being and even converted some doubters into believers over the years. And I can't help thinking that a wish made me pregnant.
Back in June or July 2011 M was in a bit of a funk. He seemed sad. I asked him what was up with him and he finally told me: He was doing well financially, he'd bought a home with extra rooms, and at his age (34) he couldn't help but feel like he should be starting a family soon. Choosing me meant being childless for as long as we are together and he didn't want to consider life without me, so he wasn't going to be a father -- and that made him (understandably) sad.
I felt sad, too. Very sad. His happiness is vital to my own, and I have offered numerous times over the years to help him find someone else to love and make babies with. I offered again, and again he said no, so I told him that for the first time in my life I could actually see myself raising a child. I wished aloud, with power and conviction, that I could have a baby with him. I offered to contact my younger cousin to be an egg donor so we could -- but if he wanted to do that, it would need to happen in the next year or so, because the older I get the harder pregnancy would be on my body. He thought about it for a moment and said "Let's talk about it next year, once the work on the house is done and the start-up thing is settled and life is less stressful."
I made that wish and even contacted my cousin, who expressed an enthusiastic willingness to be an egg donor if I needed one. And then I tabled it for revisiting sometime in 2012. I didn't think about it again until I realized I was pregnant.
And thinking about it, however bizarre it seems, I can't help but think that of all the possible factors in my getting pregnant, the greatest of these was the power of a wish made out of love for M.
I'm still in love. It's an incredible thing to be so open and vulnerable, to love with so few reservations or fears, and to experience for myself the biochemical effects of being emotionally, mentally, and physically all-in with another person.
How could I get pregnant when my infertility was actively demonstrated year after year for two decades? I think it has something to do with the effects of being in love and the power of a wish. For me, anyway. M thinks my theory is a bit silly, but his areas of expertise are mathematics, software development, and computer science. Mine are genetics, biochemistry, and loving.
The more religious members of my family believe that the child is a blessing from G-d, like the son of Abraham and Sarah. I'm not one to believe in divine intervention in the affairs of man, but as a nod to their conviction, perhaps we should name the baby Isaac :)
My doctor says it probably has something to do with the 40# I dropped in 2011. And that could be. Weight loss affects everything from metabolism, to hormone levels, to psychological well-being. But I'm still heavier now than I was in the 1990s, and my partner during those years was quite virile and I swear that we had unprotected sex at least 3000 times in the 6 or 7 years we were together. So while my sudden fertility could be attributed to changes in weight causing changes in my endocrine system, I don't think that's the whole story.
There is a lot of research out there about the biological and biochemical basis of love, and the measurable changes in neurochemistry, hormones, and cellular structure that feeling "love" can produce. I know that for the first time in my life I've felt content with settling down with a specific someone. Not just comfortable or it's cousin complacent, but truly content.
Of the two other men I've been involved with long-term, only one of them I could see myself growing old with, and we were very comfortable together. If we'd been more developed as people and in our communication, we'd probably still be together. But with M there aren't any ifs. We communicate incredibly well. We really get each other. We talk about unmet needs and expectations and ways to fulfill them, including reaching out to others as needed. When we're experiencing our quiet, connected moments the cats come sit nearby and purr, like they just want to be inside that sphere of happiness and well-being. D and I had something similar, but the depth of intimacy with M, and the feeling of harmony and peace, are beyond my prior experience. Being with M makes me feel bone-deep happy and giddy with love.
I'm also a believer in the power of wishing. People often say to be careful what you wish for because it might come true. Wishing or praying or meditating -- focusing the thoughts and the mind intently on something -- is incredibly powerful. From practicing hypnosis I know that the unconscious mind can do amazing things, from creating illness to healing it -- and everything inbetween. I've wished things away and wished things into being and even converted some doubters into believers over the years. And I can't help thinking that a wish made me pregnant.
Back in June or July 2011 M was in a bit of a funk. He seemed sad. I asked him what was up with him and he finally told me: He was doing well financially, he'd bought a home with extra rooms, and at his age (34) he couldn't help but feel like he should be starting a family soon. Choosing me meant being childless for as long as we are together and he didn't want to consider life without me, so he wasn't going to be a father -- and that made him (understandably) sad.
I felt sad, too. Very sad. His happiness is vital to my own, and I have offered numerous times over the years to help him find someone else to love and make babies with. I offered again, and again he said no, so I told him that for the first time in my life I could actually see myself raising a child. I wished aloud, with power and conviction, that I could have a baby with him. I offered to contact my younger cousin to be an egg donor so we could -- but if he wanted to do that, it would need to happen in the next year or so, because the older I get the harder pregnancy would be on my body. He thought about it for a moment and said "Let's talk about it next year, once the work on the house is done and the start-up thing is settled and life is less stressful."
I made that wish and even contacted my cousin, who expressed an enthusiastic willingness to be an egg donor if I needed one. And then I tabled it for revisiting sometime in 2012. I didn't think about it again until I realized I was pregnant.
And thinking about it, however bizarre it seems, I can't help but think that of all the possible factors in my getting pregnant, the greatest of these was the power of a wish made out of love for M.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
And reason falls by the wayside...
This whole baby-thing is intimidating me. I'm slowly becoming irrational, and I know it.
Physically, it helps that I now understand that what is happening to my body are pregnancy-related changes, and yet, even with the various online newsletters coaching me through what is happening week-by-week, I'm still experiencing disquiet. Sometimes I even feel hijacked.
Mentally, I'm foggy. I feel like a sharp knife that is going dull. I sometimes struggle with putting words together when I'm speaking. My clarity is slipping. I'm not quite bovine but I'm terrified that I'm on my way.
Emotionally, I find myself engaged quite often in conversations with myself, trying to reassure myself that these emotional surges are just pregnancy-related and not really meaningful. I find myself just reacting more and more over silly things that don't really matter and it disturbs me because I normally have my finger on my emotional pulse and head off outbursts with validation and rational self-talk.
I'm trying to keep myself under control, trying to minimize the external expression of what is going on internally. I'm trying to minimize it, because I know that pregnant women can be notoriously moody and capricious, and I know that it's difficult for the people living with them day after day. I'm trying so hard not to put M through this "perfect storm" I'm in. He's accustomed to something very different.
But it's getting more and more difficult, and I'm feeling irrationally resentful about the effort I'm going to in order to keep the boat from rocking. I feel that there isn't any recognition from him, just upset when I fail to be my usual calm, rational self. Telling him I'm pregnant and I'm trying so hard not to externalize all this turmoil doesn't seem to make a difference. He's caught up in his own emotional world right now--his world is unsettled, too. And that's okay. I get that this is all probably normal.
But normal for us is me making things easy. He's the intense one, I'm the easygoing one. To use his words, I'm the accommodating one. He's used to me recognizing when he's in a mood or stressed or whatever and giving him space and not pushing his buttons. Not taking it personally. He's used to me letting him know when I'm feeling upset before I start acting upset. Only my capacity to do those things and be that way is diminishing as my pregnancy advances. And communication is the keystone of our relationship. Argh.
An hour from now I'll probably feel differently. Maybe. Hopefully. I'm sure we'll weather this and everything will be okay in the end. It's not like this problem is unknown to most couples during pregnancies. I half wish I was more of a "typical female" in our relationship, because at least he'd have coping mechanisms in place for when reason falls by the wayside. But he doesn't and I'm not and I guess we'll learn how to cope with these changes along with all the others we have to look forward to as unintentional parents. Ah hell... ;)
Physically, it helps that I now understand that what is happening to my body are pregnancy-related changes, and yet, even with the various online newsletters coaching me through what is happening week-by-week, I'm still experiencing disquiet. Sometimes I even feel hijacked.
Mentally, I'm foggy. I feel like a sharp knife that is going dull. I sometimes struggle with putting words together when I'm speaking. My clarity is slipping. I'm not quite bovine but I'm terrified that I'm on my way.
Emotionally, I find myself engaged quite often in conversations with myself, trying to reassure myself that these emotional surges are just pregnancy-related and not really meaningful. I find myself just reacting more and more over silly things that don't really matter and it disturbs me because I normally have my finger on my emotional pulse and head off outbursts with validation and rational self-talk.
I'm trying to keep myself under control, trying to minimize the external expression of what is going on internally. I'm trying to minimize it, because I know that pregnant women can be notoriously moody and capricious, and I know that it's difficult for the people living with them day after day. I'm trying so hard not to put M through this "perfect storm" I'm in. He's accustomed to something very different.
But it's getting more and more difficult, and I'm feeling irrationally resentful about the effort I'm going to in order to keep the boat from rocking. I feel that there isn't any recognition from him, just upset when I fail to be my usual calm, rational self. Telling him I'm pregnant and I'm trying so hard not to externalize all this turmoil doesn't seem to make a difference. He's caught up in his own emotional world right now--his world is unsettled, too. And that's okay. I get that this is all probably normal.
But normal for us is me making things easy. He's the intense one, I'm the easygoing one. To use his words, I'm the accommodating one. He's used to me recognizing when he's in a mood or stressed or whatever and giving him space and not pushing his buttons. Not taking it personally. He's used to me letting him know when I'm feeling upset before I start acting upset. Only my capacity to do those things and be that way is diminishing as my pregnancy advances. And communication is the keystone of our relationship. Argh.
An hour from now I'll probably feel differently. Maybe. Hopefully. I'm sure we'll weather this and everything will be okay in the end. It's not like this problem is unknown to most couples during pregnancies. I half wish I was more of a "typical female" in our relationship, because at least he'd have coping mechanisms in place for when reason falls by the wayside. But he doesn't and I'm not and I guess we'll learn how to cope with these changes along with all the others we have to look forward to as unintentional parents. Ah hell... ;)
Friday, January 27, 2012
My Greatest Fear
When I was a kid my parents often hurled a curse at us: "I hope one day you have a child just like you!"
I didn't understand what they meant when I was grammar-school aged (except that I was somehow "bad"), though later I decided it was an expression of frustration resulting from their obvious incompetence as parents. Being a teenager, I knew everything, of course, and my parents, though older and more experienced, were somehow stupider. The hubris of youth, eh?
Today, though, as I find my bladder shrinking and my breasts expanding, I've starting wondering about what my son will be like, with my parent's words echoing in my mind. And more and more, I'm hoping he'll be like M. His parents say he was an easy baby and an easy child. He wasn't fussy or demanding, he wasn't a trouble-maker, and he wasn't accident prone. Just a little contrarian. And he's still contrarian. And given that I'm contrarian too, I will not be surprised if our son is as well. I'm ok with that. Contrarians don't follow the herd. We are comfortable questioning the majority (the status quo, the conventional wisdom, the common practice) when it doesn't make sense to us, and we'll often do the opposite just to demonstrate our disagreement. I can handle contrarians. I are one :)
I understand that a child's behavior and psychology are heavily influenced by their parent's behavior and psychology, and M and I are both pretty self-aware people, so I'm not too concerned about our child picking up passive-aggressive behaviors and the like from us. I'm not sure how much having a child will affect our relationship, but right now at least, we don't play the typical gender-role based mind-games many couples do. We're both too pragmatic and efficiency-minded to waste time with such counter-productive forms of communication. Our son will probably be very direct and verbally articulate, because that is how we are with each other.
Back to fears:
M's greatest fear is having a stupid child. It sounds like a terrible thing to say, but I understand. Heritability of intelligence is polygenic and highly variable depending on environment. So that M and I both have IQs over 140 doesn't mean our son will qualify for Mensa from birth. In his experience, it is difficult for people of very different intelligence levels to connect, and he's afraid he won't be able to relate to his son if he's not "bright."
Meanwhile, my greatest fear is of having a child like the one I was.
My friends have heard the stories over the years, and they are amusing. Except if you think about being the parent of a child like I was. Now I recognize that much of my early childhood behavior and psychology was influenced by my parents and my environment (the former being disinterested and the latter being quite odd), and I know that the environment I provide will be very different, but I can't help but wonder if the the way I viewed, experienced, and interacted with the world is something that will be passed on.
I was a terribly bright child. I heard it again this Christmas from the woman (Susan) who taught me to read and tell time and tie my shoes before I was 4 years old. I was rather solemn and observant, active but not hyper, and very very curious. I wanted to know. I wanted answers. And I didn't hesititate to act in my pursuit of those answers. I was a budding scientist, always seeing connections and causality and wondering if the patterns I observed could be applied to other things. Put that way, it sounds innocuous enough but in many ways it wasn't.
A month ago at Xmas Susan and I were laughing about "The Water Hose Incident" It was interesting to hear about it from her perspective, and to remember it from my (then child's) perspective. Putting the two together made for a comical story.
It goes something like this:
Adult perspective: Pregnant Mother was out in the garage doing laundry and talking on the phone. While she was doing this, Kelly fed a garden hose through the mail slot in the front door and flooded much of the house with several inches of water. She splashed water everywhere, getting the TV, the stereo, and even her sister in the playpen soaking wet. When Mother discovered the mess she called Susan to come take Kelly away for a few days so she wouldn't kill her. The carpets had to be torn up and replaced, the TV and the stereo were ruined, and the water had to be pumped out of the house. It was a mess!
Child's perspective: Oooh look! When you water a lawn, brown grass turns green. My carpet is brown, if I water it, will it turn that pretty green color? The mailman puts things through the slot in the door, can I put the hose through the slot in the door? If I can put the hose through the slot in the door, then maybe I can turn the carpet green! I'm watering the carpet but it isn't turning green yet. You have to move the sprinkler around to water all of the lawn so it all turns green, so maybe if I water all of the carpet, then it will turn green. Things are in the way, but I have to get all of the carpet watered, so I am going to have to water them too, I guess. Oh no! Tammy is screaming and crying. I like playing in the sprinklers, why doesn't she? Uh-oh, Mommy is yelling. I'm not supposed to water the carpets? Why not? And if I'm not supposed to, why didn't anyone tell me that?
Amusing, isn't it? Only it wasn't an isolated incident. Long before I could be shipped off to kindergarten I was already dismantling things to find out how they worked. Crawling into places to see what was there. Trying to use grown-up tools to do grown-up tasks. The world was a puzzle and I was determined to solve it.
Now admittedly, I was left unattended a lot, and my parents often resorted to "I don't know" and "Because I said so" and "Go away" when it came to my endless questions. So I tried to learn things by myself. My parents, young as they were, didn't know how to cope with me. I scared the hell out of them many, many times. And back then, thorough spankings were legal, so I was spanked a lot for reasons I didn't understand, which brought out the contrarian in me and made things even more difficult all around.
Ok, so... maybe... thinking about it... my "awfulness" as a child was less about me and more a function of my parent's lack of preparedness to handle a child like me. But then again, is it even possible to prepare for a child like me? I'm not going to have 3 children under age five like my mother did, and M isn't going to have the PTSD that my father did when he came home from Viet Nam. I'm 20 years older than they were when I was born. I've had years of training and experience working with children -- but those were other people's children. I'm a calm person, not a reactive one, and I know not to let kids push my buttons. But still...
I guess my greatest fear isn't so much that I'll have a child like me, but rather, that I'd lose my mind trying to be an adequate parent for a child like me. A nice, sweet, quiet baby like M was -- no problem. But a double-handful of a child who is impossibly bright and contrarian and always on the go and getting into things... I don't know. I suppose time will tell if this unintentional mother has what it takes.
I didn't understand what they meant when I was grammar-school aged (except that I was somehow "bad"), though later I decided it was an expression of frustration resulting from their obvious incompetence as parents. Being a teenager, I knew everything, of course, and my parents, though older and more experienced, were somehow stupider. The hubris of youth, eh?
Today, though, as I find my bladder shrinking and my breasts expanding, I've starting wondering about what my son will be like, with my parent's words echoing in my mind. And more and more, I'm hoping he'll be like M. His parents say he was an easy baby and an easy child. He wasn't fussy or demanding, he wasn't a trouble-maker, and he wasn't accident prone. Just a little contrarian. And he's still contrarian. And given that I'm contrarian too, I will not be surprised if our son is as well. I'm ok with that. Contrarians don't follow the herd. We are comfortable questioning the majority (the status quo, the conventional wisdom, the common practice) when it doesn't make sense to us, and we'll often do the opposite just to demonstrate our disagreement. I can handle contrarians. I are one :)
I understand that a child's behavior and psychology are heavily influenced by their parent's behavior and psychology, and M and I are both pretty self-aware people, so I'm not too concerned about our child picking up passive-aggressive behaviors and the like from us. I'm not sure how much having a child will affect our relationship, but right now at least, we don't play the typical gender-role based mind-games many couples do. We're both too pragmatic and efficiency-minded to waste time with such counter-productive forms of communication. Our son will probably be very direct and verbally articulate, because that is how we are with each other.
Back to fears:
M's greatest fear is having a stupid child. It sounds like a terrible thing to say, but I understand. Heritability of intelligence is polygenic and highly variable depending on environment. So that M and I both have IQs over 140 doesn't mean our son will qualify for Mensa from birth. In his experience, it is difficult for people of very different intelligence levels to connect, and he's afraid he won't be able to relate to his son if he's not "bright."
Meanwhile, my greatest fear is of having a child like the one I was.
My friends have heard the stories over the years, and they are amusing. Except if you think about being the parent of a child like I was. Now I recognize that much of my early childhood behavior and psychology was influenced by my parents and my environment (the former being disinterested and the latter being quite odd), and I know that the environment I provide will be very different, but I can't help but wonder if the the way I viewed, experienced, and interacted with the world is something that will be passed on.
I was a terribly bright child. I heard it again this Christmas from the woman (Susan) who taught me to read and tell time and tie my shoes before I was 4 years old. I was rather solemn and observant, active but not hyper, and very very curious. I wanted to know. I wanted answers. And I didn't hesititate to act in my pursuit of those answers. I was a budding scientist, always seeing connections and causality and wondering if the patterns I observed could be applied to other things. Put that way, it sounds innocuous enough but in many ways it wasn't.
A month ago at Xmas Susan and I were laughing about "The Water Hose Incident" It was interesting to hear about it from her perspective, and to remember it from my (then child's) perspective. Putting the two together made for a comical story.
It goes something like this:
Adult perspective: Pregnant Mother was out in the garage doing laundry and talking on the phone. While she was doing this, Kelly fed a garden hose through the mail slot in the front door and flooded much of the house with several inches of water. She splashed water everywhere, getting the TV, the stereo, and even her sister in the playpen soaking wet. When Mother discovered the mess she called Susan to come take Kelly away for a few days so she wouldn't kill her. The carpets had to be torn up and replaced, the TV and the stereo were ruined, and the water had to be pumped out of the house. It was a mess!
Child's perspective: Oooh look! When you water a lawn, brown grass turns green. My carpet is brown, if I water it, will it turn that pretty green color? The mailman puts things through the slot in the door, can I put the hose through the slot in the door? If I can put the hose through the slot in the door, then maybe I can turn the carpet green! I'm watering the carpet but it isn't turning green yet. You have to move the sprinkler around to water all of the lawn so it all turns green, so maybe if I water all of the carpet, then it will turn green. Things are in the way, but I have to get all of the carpet watered, so I am going to have to water them too, I guess. Oh no! Tammy is screaming and crying. I like playing in the sprinklers, why doesn't she? Uh-oh, Mommy is yelling. I'm not supposed to water the carpets? Why not? And if I'm not supposed to, why didn't anyone tell me that?
Amusing, isn't it? Only it wasn't an isolated incident. Long before I could be shipped off to kindergarten I was already dismantling things to find out how they worked. Crawling into places to see what was there. Trying to use grown-up tools to do grown-up tasks. The world was a puzzle and I was determined to solve it.
Now admittedly, I was left unattended a lot, and my parents often resorted to "I don't know" and "Because I said so" and "Go away" when it came to my endless questions. So I tried to learn things by myself. My parents, young as they were, didn't know how to cope with me. I scared the hell out of them many, many times. And back then, thorough spankings were legal, so I was spanked a lot for reasons I didn't understand, which brought out the contrarian in me and made things even more difficult all around.
Ok, so... maybe... thinking about it... my "awfulness" as a child was less about me and more a function of my parent's lack of preparedness to handle a child like me. But then again, is it even possible to prepare for a child like me? I'm not going to have 3 children under age five like my mother did, and M isn't going to have the PTSD that my father did when he came home from Viet Nam. I'm 20 years older than they were when I was born. I've had years of training and experience working with children -- but those were other people's children. I'm a calm person, not a reactive one, and I know not to let kids push my buttons. But still...
I guess my greatest fear isn't so much that I'll have a child like me, but rather, that I'd lose my mind trying to be an adequate parent for a child like me. A nice, sweet, quiet baby like M was -- no problem. But a double-handful of a child who is impossibly bright and contrarian and always on the go and getting into things... I don't know. I suppose time will tell if this unintentional mother has what it takes.
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