Ain't life grand?

Just a little update - We are all doing well.

My little girl has turned out to be a very sweet, healthy, strong willed little munchkin.

We've had only minor problems in the growth department, and sleeping was bad for a while but every little minor bump in the road has been followed by her growing out of it.

I haven't posted because I just haven't had that much to say.  I've temporarily lost some introspection and permanently lost the ability to think about myself first.  I also don't really use my computer much anymore - I try to keep the electronics to a minimum.  Couple that with being short on time and . . . .well you get the picture.

It has its good days and its bad.  Running through and airport with a febrile infant with diarrhea to try to make a flight probably tops the list of the bad days, but all of my days are made better by a little smile or a hug, or even some hair pulling or the newest trick of nipple biting.

I am permanently changed.  Before my life revolved around work in the dance around a tight schedule.  Now I stress out and work my tail off when I'm at work, but when I get home I get to sit back, relax, and enjoy my family.  I'm still struggling with being at work without guilt but I am loving being a mom.   I admit it is harder than I thought in some ways, but its a good kind of hard.  I've been told its something like running a marathon . . .but I wouldn't know because I haven't set foot in a gym since before the IVF.

Long and short of it - I'm in love and loving life.

conception

1 year ago today my little girl and all my future children were conceived.

Its a little weird to think of that way.  Most people when they find out that they are pregnant have to count backwards to figure out when they conceived.  (And for some people this makes the difference in trying to figure out their baby is going to look like Larry, Moe or Curly)

Not us.  We knew the hour our kid was conceived.  Nothing left to the imagination.  The nice little embryologist randomly plucked a sperm out of a dish and randomly chose which eggs to put them into.

Its weird to think of all of these chances given the millions of sperm and the unimaginable combination of our genes coupled with the fact that we selected just one of them to grow into our little wonder.    Its a lot of chance that went into it but I have to thank the embryologist for making the choices she did because any other choice and our lives would be completely different.

So anyway I have deemed July 8th as family day.  I think we will celebrate it every year as just a day we spend with each other each year.  Later when the kids are older we will let them in on the secret that it was the day they all were made into embryos.  But for now it is a time to celebrate all that we have.

It is our anniversary of a couple turning into a family.  We are blessed.

Back to reality

I had to go back to work last monday . . . sigh.

Monday wasn't too bad.  MY whole clinic was a group of patients that had been waiting for me to get back from leave, and it felt good to see everyone.  I missed the little squirt, but Daddy was staying home with her and Grandma coming over to help . . . so I wasn't worried at all.

Tuesday was a little sadder, but I happened to be working close to home that day and I came home to breastfeed at lunchtime.  Made my day a lot better.

By Wednesday,  I lost it.

I just kept pulling up her photo on my iphone and staring at her, wanting to be home.

Days are her fun happy time, nights are not.  So all I get when I get home is a grumpy little munchkin that cries when she sees me.  I thought she was too young for the stare into your face and cry as soon as you get home thing.  Apparently not.

Guilt.

I haven't really cried too much over it - I am still happier than I was a year ago when I had only the hope of pregnancy, and a few months ago when I was physically in pain all the time and worried about having a preemie.  But the new challenge is one that will be there for the next 18 years.  The one about work life balance and the question of can I "do it all".

I think the answer is that I can do it all, but I can't do it all well all the time.  Already I feel that no matter where I am I am neglecting something.

There is a nice article on the atlantic mobile by Anne-Marie Slaughter entitled "Why women still can't have it all" talking about why she left her high powered government job for her family.  Its a nice acknowledgement that we don't all have to be superheros.

I'm not trying to be a superhero - I'm just trying to learn to function in both rolls.  Baby steps . . . I guess.

new nightmares

okay so I had some whopping nightmares when I was pregnant - must have been the hormones.  But ever since there has been a sense of peace, and up to recently also an extreme lack of sleep.  When i would fall asleep it would be so deep I would wake up confused and incoherent.

So funny enough I have not been (at least remembering) dreaming lately . . .that is until now.

I think it is my upcoming return to work that is starting to stress me out on the subconscious level.  In actuality I think it is going to be fine, and probably nice to converse with adults again . . . . but alas my subconscious seems to be worried.

Usually my nightmares have the following in common:
1) they are usually set in school - college most often.
2) they usually have some assignment I have not completed or I am trying to cram for the final of a math class that I thought I dropped at the start of the semester
3) there is something that I usually cant accomplish and I panic until I am sobbing

So last night I had a dream that started out in a college class - I was taking an unnecessary class in summer school.  I cant remember the subject, but it was something I had already taken and it was a round-the-clock class for a week that I had to stay in a dorm for.  (Keep in mind I am not claiming it makes any sense)  I realized that I didn't really need to be enrolled in the class and all I wanted to do was spend time with the baby anyway.  So heres where it turned bad.  I went to pick up the baby from the daycare center and they wouldn't give her to me unless I completed the class.  I begged them just to let me breastfeed her and they would not let me have her.  I cried that she is having weight problems and she needed to be fed and they assured me that after sleeping 12 hours last night in her crib that she had taken 6 ounces that morning.

This is when I think I began actually panicking in my sleep because 1) the kid doesn't go more than 4-5 hours 2) she wont sleep on a flat surface and 3) she has never taken that much in a feed.  I all of a sudden felt that nobody was taking care of her and that she was in the hands of people who didn't care - and then I lost it.  I cried and begged but I could not see her.  She was locked in what resembled a psychiatric ward in a hospital and they would not release her.  Thats when I woke up crying.

I am very fortunate that my mom-in-law will be looking after the kid at first. . . so I don't know why I am panicked about daycare.  But I suppose its just separation anxiety.

Still, I haven't been away from her for more than a few hours.  I think this is just my dreams telling me it may be harder emotionally than I am prepared for.  I guess I will see soon.

Toddlers and Tiaras

Okay so I admit that occasionally watch an episode of Toddlers and Tiaras - I am a bit fascinated.  I could care less about the real housewives of whatever city because I hate the drama of adult women as there is too much in my life anyway.  But there is something about these kids and parents that I find intriguing.  Unfortunately it does not usually leave me with a positive impression of either one.

Some people have a big problem with pageants, and I can see their points.  The sexualization of prepubescent girls is an big issue, and some of the dance moves and outfits seem wrong to me.  (Fishnets on a 3 year old . . .come on!)  And the money that goes into these for coaching, outfits, makeup, tanning and hairdressers is impressive, and sometimes appears to take priority over other things.  But when it comes to childrearing, I kind of believe "to each his own".  These parents are intimately involved with their child and spend a lot of time with them doing all the above activities.  And some of these kids learn about practice and working towards a goal and good sportsmanship so it can't all be bad.

However, I think it is safe to say that I don't think I will be a pageant mom.  I can't see myself plucking my 4 year olds eyebrows and I just don't see myself emphasizing what my child looks like on the outside.  Yes I know that its a superficial world and she will have to deal with it at some point, I just want her to have some time before she has to think about what she looks like.  Although I do admit that I am biased and think she is adorable, I also admit having 700 photos on my phone of my kid is a little nutso.  I use the excise that I am enjoying being with her every day and don't want to forget her being this little, but in reality I think she is pretty cute too.

 I have been thinking about what type of mom I will be and what I want for my little girl.  The awards I want her to win are not for her beauty, her brains or her athletic ability (or lack thereof which if she takes after me will be non-existant). I have decided the best emphasis is on enjoying her childhood and enjoying learning.  When she starts school I want her to win awards for the most books read, being nice to other kids and perfect attendance.  I would like her to work hard at whatever it is that she enjoys and I hope she finds activities that she is good at and ultimately I think I will support whatever she likes as long as it is safe.

I just hope that isn't pageants.

Boob worship

The upside to breastfeeding . . . Boob worship.

The way my husband and my daughter both look at these things is hilarious.  I know one day after I finish this they will be flat pancakes, but right now they are D- cups.  This on the girl who was an A in high school.  If I could get my waist to go down more maybe I could fit in at the beach with all the plastic girls in their twenties.

Who am I kidding.  a) I look older, b) I now have stretch marks and loose skin, c) I don't have time for the beach anymore, and if I do in the future its to build sandcastles . . . not to lay out in a bikini.

But the one thing that makes breastfeeding worth continuing is the boob worship by the little one.  In the past couple days she has realized that the hooters are in fact attached to me and that I am a package deal.  Its kind of a funny thing but before it was just for eating, now she looks up and stops for a second, realizes shes looking at me, looks puzzled and then goes back to her business.  Before she knew that if I entered the room when she was crying that she would be fed, and she realized what these milk supply body parts could do for her.  But it was fun watching her put two and two together :)

I "get" to go back to work soon and I was thinking of transitioning her to bottles during the day and me to pumping, but alas I want to enjoy this as long as I can.

She sure does.

Postpartum birth control . . . . ha!

I think the concept of being on birth control is just hilarious at this point.  I mean really . . . what are the chances that with my history plus my incredible prolactin levels (from the breastfeeding and the galactogogs I am taking) that I would have any chance at all of conception.

However that being said - I am back on birth control.  I only intend to use pills for a couple of months just to avoid the "irish twins" that seem to happen in my extended very catholic family.  (I had to explain this to my non-catholic husband that they are 2 babies born within a year of each other.)

It is interesting to look at the family tree, mine especially, to contemplate how fertile my relatives were.  In my family there is the concept of go big or go home.  Most couples had about 4-5 kids each, but among the tree there are also quite a few dead ends.  Knowing my family's religious preferences and the belief that contraception is a sin (theirs, obviously not mine) it always makes me wonder how many of those dead end branches were really just infertility before there was any therapy.

So my gynecologist asked me when I was planning on the next one.  I really have no idea at this point, but I think in a couple years we will likely try again.  She wanted to know if I wanted a longer term contraceptive like the IUD and I told her that I really wasn't going to use anything after the first few months.  And then it dawned on me . . . after everything I have been through I still haven't given up hope of a naturally conceived child.  I can't believe that I want to put myself through the ever-negative pregnancy test routine again.  Its like I can't get it though my thick skull that I am really incapable of doing this without medical help even though logically I know we will be doing IVF again.  But I guess that's because thick skulls are a part of every branch of my family tree and my little apple won't fall far from this one.

So anyway, . . . .just because I think I should . . . I am on the mini-pill.  It feels so stupid to be contracepting, especially since I wouldn't even have a twinge of regret getting pregnant again.  My job however needs the recovery time . . .  but thats a different post all together.