- Today is my last day teaching this semester. Usually about this time of year I'm feeling relieved. This time I dn't feel much of anything. Now that D. is here, so much less of my energy goes into thinking about work (or doing work).
- Saturday we're taking D. to my parents' for a few days, and then it's off to Central American Country where we'll spend Christmas and the new year with P.'s family. I'm excited about getting down there, but ashamed at how bad my Spanish is.
- I spent much of the weekend making cookies and putting together a Christmas care package for my brother, who has been deployed in African country since October. I was about to make a third batch when P. asked me if maybe I was overdoing it a bit. It was a lot of cookies-- but I figure he'll be able to share them this way. And really, I just don't know what else to do. I hate that he's over there and not at home with his wife and beautiful little girl.
- After several days of agonizing over whether or not I'd be offending or hurting the feelings of P., who is an atheist, and whose toleration of all things Christmas seems to have lessened some now that D. is in the picture, I finally put up our tree. The tipping point? P. brought home an ornament for me from the ubiquitous Dunkin Donuts. D. was fascinated for quite a while, touching the branches, playing with (and gumming) the ornaments, blinking at the lights.
- I guess that fourth point really merits an entire post of its own-- htat is, something on the subject of how to negotiate the holidays when the two people involved come from different traditions. I guess the truth of the matter is I'm still trying to think that through.
- My birth grandmother had open heart surgery on Friday. I tried calling my birthmom's place to find out how she's doing, but I haven't been able to get any information yet. Still worried.
- Very ashamed at how poorly I write. Consider destroying the blog.
Monday, December 11, 2006
bullets-- because I can no longer think in larger chunks of focused prose
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Zombie
Mannnnnnnnnnnnn, I'm tired.
and my baby's pajamas are suddenly too small.
I haven't finished preparing for the class I need to teach tomorrow, and so will have to finish pulling it together tomorrow morning when the baby's mostly awake. I just can't think straight anymore. I'm not sure it's going to get better, either.
and my baby's pajamas are suddenly too small.
I haven't finished preparing for the class I need to teach tomorrow, and so will have to finish pulling it together tomorrow morning when the baby's mostly awake. I just can't think straight anymore. I'm not sure it's going to get better, either.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Okosama
Last night, after a particularly hard day, P. and I were sitting in the living room when I had to get up to go to the bathroom. I planned to try to put the sleeping D. in his crib on my way (he'll usually sleep there for a few hours, but always ends up in our bed eventually), but P. stopped me and wanted to take D. with him instead.
When I came back, a noticeably calmer and blissed-out P. said to me, "isn't it amazing how just holding D. like this can make you forget about all the stress?"
It is amazing. As exhausting as this full time motherhood can sometimes be, the most peaceful moments of my day are spent with D. There's nothing like holding a sleeping baby. By being with us (and not lying elsewhere on his own), D. also seems to be more at peace. Usually when I put him down, he squirms quite a lot, twisting his body from side-to-side, flailing his limbs. When we pick him up to sit with him, or bring him into bed with us, he almost immediately calms down, and snuggles in closer. When he wakes, up, he is a sunflower reaching for the light: he turns his little face from side to side, gradually tilting his head further and further back, his eyes still shut tight. When he opens them, he'll look at us seriously for a moment, and then he smiles a smile that lights up the entire room.
In her novel, The Character of Rain, Amelie Northomb describes the Japanese belief that until he or she reaches the age of three, a child is a little god, an "okosama." It's not hard to see where this idea comes from. Moments like these (watching D. asleep on my lap) can feel intensely spiritual. There's surely a piece of the divine right here.
When I came back, a noticeably calmer and blissed-out P. said to me, "isn't it amazing how just holding D. like this can make you forget about all the stress?"
It is amazing. As exhausting as this full time motherhood can sometimes be, the most peaceful moments of my day are spent with D. There's nothing like holding a sleeping baby. By being with us (and not lying elsewhere on his own), D. also seems to be more at peace. Usually when I put him down, he squirms quite a lot, twisting his body from side-to-side, flailing his limbs. When we pick him up to sit with him, or bring him into bed with us, he almost immediately calms down, and snuggles in closer. When he wakes, up, he is a sunflower reaching for the light: he turns his little face from side to side, gradually tilting his head further and further back, his eyes still shut tight. When he opens them, he'll look at us seriously for a moment, and then he smiles a smile that lights up the entire room.
In her novel, The Character of Rain, Amelie Northomb describes the Japanese belief that until he or she reaches the age of three, a child is a little god, an "okosama." It's not hard to see where this idea comes from. Moments like these (watching D. asleep on my lap) can feel intensely spiritual. There's surely a piece of the divine right here.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Happy Halloween
He's too small to go trick-or-treating, but we couldn't resist getting him a costume. This past weekend we took D. to a Halloween party at the hospital where he was born. It was a reunion of sorts-- for other preemies and the nurses that cared for them.Those first ten days that D. was at the hospital were some of the most stressful of my life; but they were also some of the most special. We spent so much time in the special care nursery that P. and I got to know the nurses on every shift. It felt good to see them again under less stressful circumstances.
He's so alive! now, and well! So it's a very happy Halloween around here, indeed.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Sick
Yesterday we took D. in to the pediatrician for his 4 month shots. Ouch. I nearly cried when the nurse jabbed the needle into his little thigh, and then did it again! and again!! That sadly hasn't been the last or worst of it. Last night D. woke up and started screaming. Usually I'm able to calm him down pretty quickly, but this went on for at least 20 minutes. It sounded like no cry I'd ever heard before, and I can only assume the kid was in some kind of pain. He finally fell asleep nursing and did okay through the night... but this morning he had a fever, and when I tried to give him some tylenol in the eyedropper, he emptied the contents of his stomach all over his changing table. Minutes later, he threw up again on our bed. And then he had another screaming fit. And then he threw up yet again (all over me) a few hours later. Poor baby.
I cancelled my class so I could stay home and console him (and not subject him to the ride to campus where he usually hangs out with dad in his office for an hour while I teach). He has been in my arms or on my lap all morning. And every once in a while, D. will open his eyes, look up at me, and smile.
I think we'll survive this.
I cancelled my class so I could stay home and console him (and not subject him to the ride to campus where he usually hangs out with dad in his office for an hour while I teach). He has been in my arms or on my lap all morning. And every once in a while, D. will open his eyes, look up at me, and smile.
I think we'll survive this.
Monday, October 02, 2006
staying put
So it looked like we were really going to leave this place... I was ready to do it. But then P. started getting anxious about it. We talked some more about it. If we were to leave this place for Rural College, we'd risk not being able to get back here. So we're staying put. We've essentially chosen location over career, and that feels okay too.
When I was applying to graduate school years ago, one of my professors advised that I apply to places I'd really like to live. At the time I thought her advice was very romantic but perhaps a little impractical. Now, those words seem very wise to me. I love living here. Since the baby HATES riding the car (he cries his poor heart out every time he has to ride around in it), we don't get out much, but when we do, it's heavenly. I've always been drawn to water, and right now I'm actually living just minutes away from the ocean. So what if the jobs we're able to find aren't the ideal ones? There's so much more to our lives than that.
and just because, here's another picture of D., whose good moods (thank God) are getting more and more frequent.
When I was applying to graduate school years ago, one of my professors advised that I apply to places I'd really like to live. At the time I thought her advice was very romantic but perhaps a little impractical. Now, those words seem very wise to me. I love living here. Since the baby HATES riding the car (he cries his poor heart out every time he has to ride around in it), we don't get out much, but when we do, it's heavenly. I've always been drawn to water, and right now I'm actually living just minutes away from the ocean. So what if the jobs we're able to find aren't the ideal ones? There's so much more to our lives than that.
and just because, here's another picture of D., whose good moods (thank God) are getting more and more frequent.
Friday, September 29, 2006
decisions
I think I've just about talked P. into accepting the job at Elite but Rural College, which means we may be on the move again. It's taken quite a bit of effort on my part to convince him to take the job, but after a week of thinking things through, I think it's the right thing to do. It means putting my academic career on hold, but I feel great about not needing to send D. off to daycare before he can even tell us what's happening there. Elite Rural College has offered me part-time work, so I can still keep one foot in the academy door. And if I'm somehow able to publish more in the next few years, maybe P. and I will be competetive enough in two years time to go on the market again and find two tenure track jobs that are closer together.When I was able to shrug off all the internal and external pressures I felt about my needing to have a successful career, the whole problem became so much clearer. Because the truth of the matter is that D. has become my world and my life's meaning, and I'm not ready to give THAT up for a career right now.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
where we are
There's so much on my mind right now, and it's so hard to think it through. I'm torn, and to mix metaphors, feel like I'm being pulled in at least three different directions.
I am teaching one class this semester at the school where P. has a tenure track job, and it's a bit harder on me emotionally than I thought it would be. I gave up a tenure track job of my own, and an offer of an even better one, so that P. could take one of his offers, and so that I'd have time to spend at home taking care of the baby. I am still thankful for the time with D., but I was very naive in thinking I'd be able to get much of anything done while taking care of an infant besides taking care of the infant. I spend most of my time feeding, changing, bouncing, bathing, soothing, or playing with the baby. Very rarely will he nap anywhere except on top of me (he's on me now), and that makes it difficult to accomplish anything. The cleaning duties I do happen mostly after P. gets home and hold the baby for a while.
Prepping for class is a bit more difficult with the baby around, but so far it's been manageable (I've taught the class before at my old job). But working on that article that I really should be sending out to to a journal? That's been pretty much impossible. I need some space to spread out, and some time in which I'm not likely to get interrupted by D. wailing.
When we first arrived in New City, P. and I went to a picnic his new department was holding for its faculty-- both full timers and part-time adjunct people like me. I was encouraged; how cool to be at a place where adjuncts are really considered to be part of the faculty? But the English department doesn't operate in the same way, it seems. I have yet to meet one other person (even an adjunct) in the department. I don't know what my department chair looks like, and I don't even know where the copy machine is, and my chair failed to answer an email I sent weeks ago asking about office/desk space. I come in three days a week, baby in tow, to teach my class (P. takes D. for the hour), and that's the only time I'm even on campus. This is somewhat my own fault. If I want to meet people, I'll need to make more of an effort to get myself to campus sometime when P. can watch Bino. It means stepping out of my comfort zone, for sure.
This lack of connection is pretty unnerving. I don't quite feel real, and I certainly don't get the sense that my work is valued by anyone. P. comes home talking about the goings-on in his department, about committee work and campus meetings, and I listen hungrily. I miss those things.
And so, the question at hand is what to do about all of this? There are three jobs in my area opening up within an hour of New City. I could apply for them, though the market in English is so tight I don't feel confident about my chances of getting any of them. I could also start looking for non-academic work in nearby Big City, a possibility that sometimes feels exciting, other times feels disappointing, and all times, feels terrifying.
But there's another new wrinkle.
Out of the blue, P. got a call from Very Elite but Rurally Located College. He was a finalist for a job there last year, but didn't get an offer. Seems they have a new opening for next year. No offer has been made yet, but it seems a very real possibility. It's a super opportunity for P., and I think he'd be really happy working there. The salary there will go a lot further than it does here, where the cost of living is extremely high. There are some good educational perks for D., too. It makes some sense to go there. The problem is that there aren't any jobs in my area anywhere remotely close to this place, and if I look for a non-academic job, I'm not sure what there is I can do in this new place. Surely I could find something, right? But it will be harder, and I'm worried it'll be harder to find something I might actually enjoy doing. I have tremendous respect (now more than ever) for stay-at-home mothers, but I feel I'm going to need something else in my life, too.
This puts us right back to where we were last year, trying to solve the impossible 2-body problem once again. I am spent. I don't want P. to lose a great opportunity because of me, and I want fo rus to be able to provide D. with the best life possible. What am I going to do, though? I'm lost. I want to be able to spend as much time with D. as I can, and to prolong taking him to daycare as long as possible; but I want to be able to do other things, too. I want for P. to have a happy and fulfilling professional life, but I'd kinda like one for myself, too. I'd like for us to be better off financially, but I wish we could stay in this part of the country, too. The bottom line is that I can't have it all, and that these tough decisions are just part of what it means to be a grown up.
Since starting this post, I've changed 2 diapers, given one feeding, and done several bouncing/soothing sessions with D. He's crying for more. Thanks for listening.
I am teaching one class this semester at the school where P. has a tenure track job, and it's a bit harder on me emotionally than I thought it would be. I gave up a tenure track job of my own, and an offer of an even better one, so that P. could take one of his offers, and so that I'd have time to spend at home taking care of the baby. I am still thankful for the time with D., but I was very naive in thinking I'd be able to get much of anything done while taking care of an infant besides taking care of the infant. I spend most of my time feeding, changing, bouncing, bathing, soothing, or playing with the baby. Very rarely will he nap anywhere except on top of me (he's on me now), and that makes it difficult to accomplish anything. The cleaning duties I do happen mostly after P. gets home and hold the baby for a while.
Prepping for class is a bit more difficult with the baby around, but so far it's been manageable (I've taught the class before at my old job). But working on that article that I really should be sending out to to a journal? That's been pretty much impossible. I need some space to spread out, and some time in which I'm not likely to get interrupted by D. wailing.
When we first arrived in New City, P. and I went to a picnic his new department was holding for its faculty-- both full timers and part-time adjunct people like me. I was encouraged; how cool to be at a place where adjuncts are really considered to be part of the faculty? But the English department doesn't operate in the same way, it seems. I have yet to meet one other person (even an adjunct) in the department. I don't know what my department chair looks like, and I don't even know where the copy machine is, and my chair failed to answer an email I sent weeks ago asking about office/desk space. I come in three days a week, baby in tow, to teach my class (P. takes D. for the hour), and that's the only time I'm even on campus. This is somewhat my own fault. If I want to meet people, I'll need to make more of an effort to get myself to campus sometime when P. can watch Bino. It means stepping out of my comfort zone, for sure.
This lack of connection is pretty unnerving. I don't quite feel real, and I certainly don't get the sense that my work is valued by anyone. P. comes home talking about the goings-on in his department, about committee work and campus meetings, and I listen hungrily. I miss those things.
And so, the question at hand is what to do about all of this? There are three jobs in my area opening up within an hour of New City. I could apply for them, though the market in English is so tight I don't feel confident about my chances of getting any of them. I could also start looking for non-academic work in nearby Big City, a possibility that sometimes feels exciting, other times feels disappointing, and all times, feels terrifying.
But there's another new wrinkle.
Out of the blue, P. got a call from Very Elite but Rurally Located College. He was a finalist for a job there last year, but didn't get an offer. Seems they have a new opening for next year. No offer has been made yet, but it seems a very real possibility. It's a super opportunity for P., and I think he'd be really happy working there. The salary there will go a lot further than it does here, where the cost of living is extremely high. There are some good educational perks for D., too. It makes some sense to go there. The problem is that there aren't any jobs in my area anywhere remotely close to this place, and if I look for a non-academic job, I'm not sure what there is I can do in this new place. Surely I could find something, right? But it will be harder, and I'm worried it'll be harder to find something I might actually enjoy doing. I have tremendous respect (now more than ever) for stay-at-home mothers, but I feel I'm going to need something else in my life, too.
This puts us right back to where we were last year, trying to solve the impossible 2-body problem once again. I am spent. I don't want P. to lose a great opportunity because of me, and I want fo rus to be able to provide D. with the best life possible. What am I going to do, though? I'm lost. I want to be able to spend as much time with D. as I can, and to prolong taking him to daycare as long as possible; but I want to be able to do other things, too. I want for P. to have a happy and fulfilling professional life, but I'd kinda like one for myself, too. I'd like for us to be better off financially, but I wish we could stay in this part of the country, too. The bottom line is that I can't have it all, and that these tough decisions are just part of what it means to be a grown up.
Since starting this post, I've changed 2 diapers, given one feeding, and done several bouncing/soothing sessions with D. He's crying for more. Thanks for listening.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
a fungus among us!
D. is at a point in his development where he appears to have multiple chins, but no neck. In fact, there is a neck there, but you'll very rarely see it, as D. has to be relaxed and leaning his head back just so for you to catch a glimpse. If you try to bend his head back to see it at other times, you're likely to provoke fussiness or at least a lot of wiggling.
A few weeks ago, I noticed some whitish buildup in the folds of D.'s neck that smelled a bit like sour milk. I figured it was, in fact, milk that had built up there from an earlier feeding with the bottle (when D. was actually still taking the bottle, those feeding almost always had spillage). Last week D. took his milk only from me, directly, and yet there was still whitish gunk building up even after I'd wash his neck/wipe it off as best as I could. It seems (says the pediatrician) that D. has a fungus as a result of moisture being trapped in the folds of his neck. We have some cream to use that will hopefully clear it up, but I'm also wondering how I can prevent this from happening again? There are so many neckfolds! It's hard to monitor them all when D. is so uncooperative. Am I just a bad mother?
In other news, in the past couple days, D. has really started looking at me, fixing his eyes on mine for minutes at a time. When I talk to him while he's doing this, he'll start smiling. It may be the sweetest thing I've ever seen.
A few weeks ago, I noticed some whitish buildup in the folds of D.'s neck that smelled a bit like sour milk. I figured it was, in fact, milk that had built up there from an earlier feeding with the bottle (when D. was actually still taking the bottle, those feeding almost always had spillage). Last week D. took his milk only from me, directly, and yet there was still whitish gunk building up even after I'd wash his neck/wipe it off as best as I could. It seems (says the pediatrician) that D. has a fungus as a result of moisture being trapped in the folds of his neck. We have some cream to use that will hopefully clear it up, but I'm also wondering how I can prevent this from happening again? There are so many neckfolds! It's hard to monitor them all when D. is so uncooperative. Am I just a bad mother?
In other news, in the past couple days, D. has really started looking at me, fixing his eyes on mine for minutes at a time. When I talk to him while he's doing this, he'll start smiling. It may be the sweetest thing I've ever seen.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
restless
D. has been fussy much of the day, poor guy. He's finally sleeping, sweetly. I'm absolutely exhausted, and yet I can't seem to fall asleep myself. What's wrong with me?
Yesterday I took D. out to our first moms/kids group outing at this beautiful park on the ocean. We were late on account of my having to try to get D. calm enough to get into his carseat before leaving the house, then needing to change his diaper in the backseat of the car before leaving (and do requisite soothing). He amazingly slept all the way there, but started crying about 5 minutes after I got him up to the playground meeting place in his buggy. I fed him three times while there, and changed three diapers. It took me an hour to get from the playground back to the car since I had to stop 3 times on the way back-- once to feed him again, twice to change diapers. Then I fed him again in the backseat of the car before we left. And again, thankfully, he slept in the car on the way home... which made all that work worth it.
The moms seem nice. There are about three in particular I'd really love to get to know better. No real connections made yet, though. I need to open up more, and be patient. And I need to get some sleep.
Yesterday I took D. out to our first moms/kids group outing at this beautiful park on the ocean. We were late on account of my having to try to get D. calm enough to get into his carseat before leaving the house, then needing to change his diaper in the backseat of the car before leaving (and do requisite soothing). He amazingly slept all the way there, but started crying about 5 minutes after I got him up to the playground meeting place in his buggy. I fed him three times while there, and changed three diapers. It took me an hour to get from the playground back to the car since I had to stop 3 times on the way back-- once to feed him again, twice to change diapers. Then I fed him again in the backseat of the car before we left. And again, thankfully, he slept in the car on the way home... which made all that work worth it.
The moms seem nice. There are about three in particular I'd really love to get to know better. No real connections made yet, though. I need to open up more, and be patient. And I need to get some sleep.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
raspberry
D. has been laying in my lap and somehow rolled into me enough so that his mouth was touching my belly. He blew a raspberry on it. I can't stop giggling.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
on our own
P. left today to go off and defend his dissertation back in Old City. That means D. and I are on our own until next Saturday. Yowza. The past few nights D. has been an absolute terror, crying or screaming for two or three hours with little reprieve. P. is very good at getting him to stop, at least temporarily, by doing these deep knee bend/bouncy kind of things. I'm very inept at them. Sometimes I can get D. to go down and fall asleep by nursing him in bed, but sometimes D. just gets so worked up there's nothing I can do. So I'm pretty nervous about how these next several nights are going to go.
It seems to me that D. spends a lot of time sleeping during the day for a newborn (but how am I supposed to know what's normal?), and maybe that accounts for him being so wakeful at night? I've tried to spend some more time engaging him today while he's awake. I gave him a bath, tried to get him to play on his playgym (he especially likes the mirror), took him out for a ride in the car and a walk by the shore... but when he's fast asleep (like he is again now) I have a hard time finding the heart to wake him...
Maybe the kid will take pity on me tonight? I'm doing the best I can.
It seems to me that D. spends a lot of time sleeping during the day for a newborn (but how am I supposed to know what's normal?), and maybe that accounts for him being so wakeful at night? I've tried to spend some more time engaging him today while he's awake. I gave him a bath, tried to get him to play on his playgym (he especially likes the mirror), took him out for a ride in the car and a walk by the shore... but when he's fast asleep (like he is again now) I have a hard time finding the heart to wake him...Maybe the kid will take pity on me tonight? I'm doing the best I can.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
fussy bino
Cute as D. is, and as much love as I have for him, I'm starting to feel pretty anxious about being left alone with him-- for an entire week(!) starting this Saturday. He's been fussy-- a lot-- and it can be pretty overwhelming, particularly when I'm running on not too much sleep as it is. He seems to calm down a bit with bouncing. P. is very good at it, but it's quite hard on the arms, and I can't keep it up for very long. There have been moments that my trying to calm him has brought me to tears, and I'm so grateful that P. has been here to provide some relief. Not sure how things are going to go once he's gone... it's not like I've met anyone else in this area I can rely on.
I did find a "mom's meetup group" online the other day, and I'm hoping to go to my first event next week when P. is away. But even taking D. in the car by myself is a bit stressful. Thus far, there have always been three of us when D. is riding along, and one of us always sits in the back seat with D. in order to give a pacifier or bottle in case D. starts screaming. I'm very shy around people I don't know (heck, I'm shy around people I do know, too), but I think that hanging out with some other moms could do wonders for my spirits.
How can anyone do this parenting thing alone?
Saturday, August 12, 2006
all I want for Christmas:
detachable boobs. Actually, just one would do. Lately Bino has taken to nursing himself to sleep quite a bit. He hangs on and keeps sucking in his sleep (or so it seems). After 4o minutes or so of this, I will try to (carefully!) detach him... but sometimes, like this morning, he starts to wake up shortly after. The other factor here is that D. often has a definite preference for breast to bottle, so I can't always give a bottle of expressed milk to P. and go take my shower (or whatever). If I could detach just one breast, though...
Man, I'm tired.
Man, I'm tired.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
world of pajama
Some few nights ago I was lying in bed feeding D. and contemplating his pajamas. They have a picture of a cat and, behind it, an outline of another cat. In my sleepy stupor, P. and I had a conversation that went something like
z: Is this supposed to be two different cats? or is it two pictures of the same cat?
p: It's two pictures of the same cat.
z: But in the world of the pajama, is there one "real" cat and one drawing of that same cat? or is this one cat having an out of body experience?
I can't remember exactly how the rest of the conversation went, but the phrase "in the world of the pajama" had us snickering for the rest of it. Who talks like this? And does it sound just as silly when I use similar phrases in class?
z: Is this supposed to be two different cats? or is it two pictures of the same cat?
p: It's two pictures of the same cat.
z: But in the world of the pajama, is there one "real" cat and one drawing of that same cat? or is this one cat having an out of body experience?
I can't remember exactly how the rest of the conversation went, but the phrase "in the world of the pajama" had us snickering for the rest of it. Who talks like this? And does it sound just as silly when I use similar phrases in class?
dream
There's a recurring motif in my dream world. It's happened twice now. In the dream I discover I have a second Bino-- it's always a twin sibling of D. In the first dream (a week or more ago now?) I felt very guilty and anxious for having suddenly made this discovery. I hadn't been paying much attention to D's sibling, and I had a hard time even remembering his name-- if I had named him at all. The brother was smaller that D., and thin. I hadn't remembered to nurse him or do much else with him either. I was torn between how to spend my time between nurturing D. and nurturing this new brother, too. In the second dream, the twin bino is even smaller-- about the size of one of my fingers! Same theme. I wake up still anxious.
I can't quite figure out what's going on here. The tininess of the new sibling seems related to all the worries we had about D. at the beginning, though, when he wasn't eating well and had to get his food down a tube. Some of those worries definitely followed us home. In my dream, I'm doing fine with D. (most of the time-- when he's crying and crying I feel like a terrible mother). So why do I seem so afraid of neglecting him?
I can't quite figure out what's going on here. The tininess of the new sibling seems related to all the worries we had about D. at the beginning, though, when he wasn't eating well and had to get his food down a tube. Some of those worries definitely followed us home. In my dream, I'm doing fine with D. (most of the time-- when he's crying and crying I feel like a terrible mother). So why do I seem so afraid of neglecting him?
Monday, August 07, 2006
sweet, sweet bino
D. is 6 weeks old yesterday. He seems to be struggling some, having these fits of inconsolable crying, especially at night. We've discovered that music (he likes Bach and Vivaldi, especially) helps some... 2 nights ago P. danced around the dining room holding D. up near the stereo speakers, and D. quieted. His eyes opened wide, his head tilted towards the music, he was happy. We're making time for music and dancing more often during the day now. But music and dancing and bouncing won't always work. Last night Bino kept crying and crying and crying and crying until we were at wit's end. It's exhausting. During the night and into the early morning, he's really congested. His nose is stuffy and he makes all sorts of snorting and squeaking noises when he tries to nurse. Poor thing. I wish we could do something for him.
We've been having a lot of sweet moments, too, though, and D. is actually awake for more of them. It's lovely watching him take in things going on around him-- like the music I mentioned earlier. Friday night we went out together and found live music playing down by the harbor. We went back on Saturday for this maritime festival. I carried D. around in a sling, and he slept much of the time and was content for most of the rest. He seemed to respond to the music then, too, but a few times he was interested in taking a peak at the world outside the sling, too.
We've been having a lot of sweet moments, too, though, and D. is actually awake for more of them. It's lovely watching him take in things going on around him-- like the music I mentioned earlier. Friday night we went out together and found live music playing down by the harbor. We went back on Saturday for this maritime festival. I carried D. around in a sling, and he slept much of the time and was content for most of the rest. He seemed to respond to the music then, too, but a few times he was interested in taking a peak at the world outside the sling, too.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Everybody says your life will never be the same once you have a child. Mine bears very little resemblance to what came before. I look back over what I've written here, on this blog, and so little of it seems to fit anymore. More specifically, while before it seems so much of my identity came from my work as a professor, now that part of my life seems to matter very little. All my worries about my teaching & students seem pretty inconsequential now. Petty, even. My days revolve entirely around Bino (a better pseudonym than D., and an actual nickname-- short for Bambino-- what we called him when he was still in utero). Sometimes it's a bit exhausting. At times I wish I had more time to read/write blogs or go for a walk or cook or do something that doesn't require me having him attached to me in some way. But it occurs to me that when he gets older I won't be allowed this constant physical contact with him. For now, I want to be near him, just about every minute possible. He must be seven pounds, now. He's growing and changing so quickly. I'm so glad I'll be around for much of it. I'm teaching just one class at the college in town. I can't imagine what my life would be like this fall if I'd accepted the full time offer I had elsewhere and P. had followed me instead...
We gave Bino a bath the other day-- and he loved it! He nearly fell alseep in the water and was all smiley when I pulled him out and put him in his towel...
He makes the cutest faces when he's just woken up (he also moves his arms and legs around adoringly) and when he's just gotten done nursing. He's more alert now than ever, and sometimes his eyes are wide and just looking, looking, looking. His cry sounds like "Naaaaaaaaaaaaa Nnnnaaaaaaaaaaa Nnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" and sometimes "Nnwaaaaaaaa". Though something P. read says that babies can't suck and grasp in coordination, Bino routinely holds his own pacifier in his mouth. He doesn't mind poopy diapers, but hates wet ones. He likes to sleep on us, in his car seat & in our bed, and generally wakes up quickly if we put him somewhere else for a nap. He gets the hiccups at least twice a day and waits patiently for them to go away, even though his whole body is moving with them.
He's hungry all the time. Like now.
Monday, July 24, 2006
part ii
They kept D. in the ICU for about a week. Happily, P. and I were able to spend nights at the hospital-- gratis-- in this special room reserved for mothers who want to keep nursing their babies through the night. After 2 days of sleeping with D. in the room with me, it was hard to be apart from him even as much as we were. We spent days going to visit or nurse D. every few hours, and nights were much the same for me. We got to know the nurses on all three shifts. I've never had as much respect for the nursing profession (and I thought it was a noble vocation before!) as I do now. These women-- a few in particular-- were so patient, knowledgable, kind... they are the ones (not the doctors) who really seemed to pull D. through all of this. We had a few scary moments-- D. was put on a feeding tube for a little while, after still having erratic drops in his blood sugar-- & every time another baby in the ICU went home and D. didn't, I felt a little bit jealous. I didn't learn the names of any of the other parents we ran into, though there was communion and some conversation with them, but I remember the names of their children still.
D. turns a month old tomorrow. He's doing well. He's gaining weight and inches-- he was six and a half pounds at today's doctor's appointment. He's a lot more alert than he used to be. I'm not getting a lot of sleep yet, and I'm getting very little done during the daytime yet, either. Occasionally we can get D. to nap in his playpen or (even more rarely) in his crib. Most of the time he wants to be held. There are few things sweeter than watching him veg out and drift off to sleep in my arms. And there's this thing he does with his head after nursing-- he leans it way back and looks up at me... adorable.
Today we finally got D. to go into his sling and we even walked around outside with him inside it. Hopefully that will make it easier fo rme to get something more done in the house during the day. I've also just found a way to type and check blogs with the computer on the coffee table and D. on my lap in this chair... so maybe i'll be able to check in here more often, too.
There's no easy way to close this. But I can't resist posting another picture. I love the way he naps-- arms and legs sprawled out like this.
D. turns a month old tomorrow. He's doing well. He's gaining weight and inches-- he was six and a half pounds at today's doctor's appointment. He's a lot more alert than he used to be. I'm not getting a lot of sleep yet, and I'm getting very little done during the daytime yet, either. Occasionally we can get D. to nap in his playpen or (even more rarely) in his crib. Most of the time he wants to be held. There are few things sweeter than watching him veg out and drift off to sleep in my arms. And there's this thing he does with his head after nursing-- he leans it way back and looks up at me... adorable.
Today we finally got D. to go into his sling and we even walked around outside with him inside it. Hopefully that will make it easier fo rme to get something more done in the house during the day. I've also just found a way to type and check blogs with the computer on the coffee table and D. on my lap in this chair... so maybe i'll be able to check in here more often, too.
There's no easy way to close this. But I can't resist posting another picture. I love the way he naps-- arms and legs sprawled out like this.
Monday, July 10, 2006
how it began
Before another week passes, I need to write this down. There are so many things I want to remember about how D. came to us.
We'd only been in New city for 3 or 4 days-- and the movers had only brought our belongings 2 days before-- when my water broke in the middle of the night. I woke up, gushing, nudged P. awake, & called my mom as P. and I tried to figure out what to do. Back in Old city, I'd actually bothered to pack an overnight bag for the hospital just in case, but at the last minute, P. and I decided to pack most of what was in the bag in something else and use the bag for things we needed on the car trip-- we figured the baby wouldn't arrive soon enough to worry about it. The day before D. came, I'd thought about packing that bag again, but didn't get around to it. I jumped in the shower and P. tried to pack, hastily. When I got out of the shower and got dressed, I started leaking again, and wanted to change clothes, but P. kept rushing me, trying to get met to the hospital. We wound up taking an old towel in the car fo rme to sit on, and I kept leaking on the way to the hospital.
We showed up at the emergency room and someone wheeled me through this maze of hospital corridors to a different part of the hospital where babies are born. They confirmed my water had broken, got me settled into a bed, and called my OB, who I hadn't even met yet (I had scheduled an appointment with her for 2 days later). An incredibly nice and soothing nurse named Julie took down all my information and stayed with me while we waited. An on-call doctor came to do an ultra-sound and confirm that D. was still breech. Some minutes after he left, D.'s heart rate went way down, and suddenly my room was flooded with nurses-- at least half a dozen. I was given oxygen, told first to lie on my side, and then to get on my hands and knees. The nurses handled everything very calmly, but it was a chaotic and confusing few minutes. I couldn't see P., I didn't know what was happening... the heart rate went back to normal again, my ob arrived, and I was prepped almost immediately for surgery. Everything seemed to go incredibly fast.
In the operating room, a kind Indian woman anesthesiologist gave me a spinal. My nurse, Julie, was there, and told me to arch my back and lean into her, to hold her scrubs if I wanted to. I can't explain how nurtured I felt by this woman... I was nervous about the needle going in, but didn't even feel it. I started going numb almost immediately. I couldn't even move myself onto the table. The screen went up, P. was brought in to sit near my head, and D. came out of me, apparently urinating, minutes later. I cried.
They took D. away pretty quickly, and P. wound up going with him, and letting me get finished being sewn up and taken to recovery on my own. Eventually I was taken back to my room and D. was brought into me. I'm not sure I can recall getting to hold him for the first time, but I know that the first few days together with him were entirely bliss-filled. I stayed in bed mostly and held and nursed D. while P. spent some time back at the apartment trying to finish unpacking or hiding boxes to get ready for my parents' arrival. The morphine and other pain killers made all that time blur together. I felt like I was inside a dream.
There will have to be a second chapter here, about D.'s time in the special care nursery, but that will have to wait for a while as D. is rousing himself for what's likely to be a midafternoon snack.
We'd only been in New city for 3 or 4 days-- and the movers had only brought our belongings 2 days before-- when my water broke in the middle of the night. I woke up, gushing, nudged P. awake, & called my mom as P. and I tried to figure out what to do. Back in Old city, I'd actually bothered to pack an overnight bag for the hospital just in case, but at the last minute, P. and I decided to pack most of what was in the bag in something else and use the bag for things we needed on the car trip-- we figured the baby wouldn't arrive soon enough to worry about it. The day before D. came, I'd thought about packing that bag again, but didn't get around to it. I jumped in the shower and P. tried to pack, hastily. When I got out of the shower and got dressed, I started leaking again, and wanted to change clothes, but P. kept rushing me, trying to get met to the hospital. We wound up taking an old towel in the car fo rme to sit on, and I kept leaking on the way to the hospital.
We showed up at the emergency room and someone wheeled me through this maze of hospital corridors to a different part of the hospital where babies are born. They confirmed my water had broken, got me settled into a bed, and called my OB, who I hadn't even met yet (I had scheduled an appointment with her for 2 days later). An incredibly nice and soothing nurse named Julie took down all my information and stayed with me while we waited. An on-call doctor came to do an ultra-sound and confirm that D. was still breech. Some minutes after he left, D.'s heart rate went way down, and suddenly my room was flooded with nurses-- at least half a dozen. I was given oxygen, told first to lie on my side, and then to get on my hands and knees. The nurses handled everything very calmly, but it was a chaotic and confusing few minutes. I couldn't see P., I didn't know what was happening... the heart rate went back to normal again, my ob arrived, and I was prepped almost immediately for surgery. Everything seemed to go incredibly fast.
In the operating room, a kind Indian woman anesthesiologist gave me a spinal. My nurse, Julie, was there, and told me to arch my back and lean into her, to hold her scrubs if I wanted to. I can't explain how nurtured I felt by this woman... I was nervous about the needle going in, but didn't even feel it. I started going numb almost immediately. I couldn't even move myself onto the table. The screen went up, P. was brought in to sit near my head, and D. came out of me, apparently urinating, minutes later. I cried.
They took D. away pretty quickly, and P. wound up going with him, and letting me get finished being sewn up and taken to recovery on my own. Eventually I was taken back to my room and D. was brought into me. I'm not sure I can recall getting to hold him for the first time, but I know that the first few days together with him were entirely bliss-filled. I stayed in bed mostly and held and nursed D. while P. spent some time back at the apartment trying to finish unpacking or hiding boxes to get ready for my parents' arrival. The morphine and other pain killers made all that time blur together. I felt like I was inside a dream.
There will have to be a second chapter here, about D.'s time in the special care nursery, but that will have to wait for a while as D. is rousing himself for what's likely to be a midafternoon snack.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
he's arrived
So much has happened in the past few weeks, I can't even begin to catch my breath. I've been aching to write for some time, but circumstances just haven't allowed enough time.
Our baby has arrived. In the very early morning of June 25th, my water broke, not even four days after P. and I moved into our New City apartment. We hadn't even finished unpacking boxes. D. was delivered by c-section some few hours later, weighing in at 4 pounds and 11 ounces of cuteness. Because he was early and small, they've kept him at the hospital all this time and P. and I have been through an emotional rollercoaster that all parents of "special care" kids must. As D's glucose levels fell and rose, so have our moods. We've spent more nights at the hospital now than we've spent at home, and that might continue a few more days. We finally seem to be on an upswing that will last, and hopefully we'll be able to bring the baby home by Tuesday. Cross your fingers for us.
(Isn't he cute? P. and I don't think we've ever seen anyone so beautiful. Everytime he looks up at me with smiley eyes, I think my heart will burst.)
Sunday, May 21, 2006
growing
My belly is so round and full now I'm not sure how it could possibly get any bigger, but if the baby really does hang out there for these several more weeks, it undoubtably will. While the baby used to sit in closer to my sternum, he leans out now, and while I can't discern which part is which, I can definitely tell where he is in there. Sometime he rests legs or arms under my ribcage. My fingers have swollen-- I cant' get on my wedding ring. My watch used to move easily around, and now it's uncomfortably tight. And yet, all these changes are terribly exciting, too, in spite of the discomfort. They mean that something's happening. There's a baby coming.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
bipolar grading
Believe it or not, I'm still grading. Only one huge stack of papers to go, then final grades to calculate for three classes, and boy, will I be happy when it's over.
I think I have a somewhat unhealthy attachment to how well my students do. I'm not a grading machine. I feel proud and disappointed and frustrated and sometimes even angry as I grade. With exams, the emotions seem limited to pride or sadness. When a student does poorly, I feel compassion mostly-- I feel sad the student wasn't able to recall the information needed to do well, or wasn't able to analyze a passage as thoroughly as she might have. I never take it personally if a student does poorly. Essays are a different story, though. My first-year comp. students finished up the semester with research papers (for example). Some of them turned in the best work I've seen from them all semester-- that's the idea, that's what we were striving for! When I grade these essays, I feel proud of the students. I can see how much progress they've made, I can tell that they've worked hard, and I'm glad to see it paying off for them.
But there's another group of students who, in spite of all the incremental assignments we used for the paper, appear to have turn in something they threw together at the last minute. These are the students who I've had to struggle with a bit more. I've given detailed feedback on drafts, I've met with students in my office, I've done my best to give them feedback I think can really help them improve. I don't mind spending that time, but when I see the final product, and there's no evidence of revision, I'm very frustrated. There are also students who are relying entirely on web sources, even though the requirements for the essay state repeatedly that they're to use primarily books and journal articles. I know that I shouldn't take it so personally, but I have a hard time not doing so. I work hard at trying to find the potential in each essay that I read, and at trying to encourage students to develop it-- but some of them just don't care.
And then there are the plagiarists. While I spent more time talking about plagiarism in this semester's comp classes than ever before, I am still getting students copying word-for-word from their sources and thinking it's okay to do so if they just put a page number afterwards. We did exercises in class on paraphrasing and summarizing, and they were told repeatedly that failing to include quotation marks around material borrowed word for word is not kosher. I've called their attention to this in previous papers they've turned in, and even had a few extended conversations about this in my office. And yet, here it is again, in the final paper of the semester. It's frustrating, and disappointing. I feel like I did all I could to prevent this from happening, and yet I still feel like I must have failed them.
I guess the good thing to be said is that I didn't have any over-the-top cases of plagiarism in any of my comp sections this year. That happened instead in an upper level Shakespeare class, in which one student copied and pasted pages of text from the Encyclopedia Britanica. I feel far more emotionally invested in this situation than I should be. I am disappointed, and even at times angry. In accordance with university policy, I contacted the student by email to tell him what I've discovered and what will happen next (he'll hear from the registrar). The student wrote back and claimed he cited his sources (they are mentioned on the Works cited page), so he didn't think he was doing anything wrong. I find this extremely hard to believe-- less than two full paragraphs of the entire essay are his own work, the rest is literally plopped in from an online source, and he thinks that suffices as a final essay? He expressed no concern at all in his message, just essentially denies he's done anything wrong. He seems nonplussed; I'm exasperated. Something's wrong here.
Final exam week is supposed to be a stressful time for students, and yet I feel far more stressed on this side of things than I did when I was a student and on the other side of things.
P. and I recently finished reading this excellent book (aloud, to eachother, mostly in the car). The writer is a psychoanalyst from Britain who has a lot to say about developmental psychology and biology in babies and young children. She claims that human responses to stress are wired in babyhood (during the time the brain is growing and new synapses are forming, etc.), and can even be somewhat influenced while the child is still in utero. So every time I feel stressed now, I start to worry about the large amounts of cortisol I'm sending baby's way. I wish I could just calm down. I want to create an environment that will allow the kid to feel safe and confident. I'm hoping some of this time away from work next semester will help, but I have a lot of work to do. I'm not in control of myself as much as I wish I were. I need to develop some new strategies for soothing myself and for keeping my mood at a more even keel. Where to begin, though? When to begin is a little easier to answer: as soon as I get the rest of this grading done.
I think I have a somewhat unhealthy attachment to how well my students do. I'm not a grading machine. I feel proud and disappointed and frustrated and sometimes even angry as I grade. With exams, the emotions seem limited to pride or sadness. When a student does poorly, I feel compassion mostly-- I feel sad the student wasn't able to recall the information needed to do well, or wasn't able to analyze a passage as thoroughly as she might have. I never take it personally if a student does poorly. Essays are a different story, though. My first-year comp. students finished up the semester with research papers (for example). Some of them turned in the best work I've seen from them all semester-- that's the idea, that's what we were striving for! When I grade these essays, I feel proud of the students. I can see how much progress they've made, I can tell that they've worked hard, and I'm glad to see it paying off for them.
But there's another group of students who, in spite of all the incremental assignments we used for the paper, appear to have turn in something they threw together at the last minute. These are the students who I've had to struggle with a bit more. I've given detailed feedback on drafts, I've met with students in my office, I've done my best to give them feedback I think can really help them improve. I don't mind spending that time, but when I see the final product, and there's no evidence of revision, I'm very frustrated. There are also students who are relying entirely on web sources, even though the requirements for the essay state repeatedly that they're to use primarily books and journal articles. I know that I shouldn't take it so personally, but I have a hard time not doing so. I work hard at trying to find the potential in each essay that I read, and at trying to encourage students to develop it-- but some of them just don't care.
And then there are the plagiarists. While I spent more time talking about plagiarism in this semester's comp classes than ever before, I am still getting students copying word-for-word from their sources and thinking it's okay to do so if they just put a page number afterwards. We did exercises in class on paraphrasing and summarizing, and they were told repeatedly that failing to include quotation marks around material borrowed word for word is not kosher. I've called their attention to this in previous papers they've turned in, and even had a few extended conversations about this in my office. And yet, here it is again, in the final paper of the semester. It's frustrating, and disappointing. I feel like I did all I could to prevent this from happening, and yet I still feel like I must have failed them.
I guess the good thing to be said is that I didn't have any over-the-top cases of plagiarism in any of my comp sections this year. That happened instead in an upper level Shakespeare class, in which one student copied and pasted pages of text from the Encyclopedia Britanica. I feel far more emotionally invested in this situation than I should be. I am disappointed, and even at times angry. In accordance with university policy, I contacted the student by email to tell him what I've discovered and what will happen next (he'll hear from the registrar). The student wrote back and claimed he cited his sources (they are mentioned on the Works cited page), so he didn't think he was doing anything wrong. I find this extremely hard to believe-- less than two full paragraphs of the entire essay are his own work, the rest is literally plopped in from an online source, and he thinks that suffices as a final essay? He expressed no concern at all in his message, just essentially denies he's done anything wrong. He seems nonplussed; I'm exasperated. Something's wrong here.
Final exam week is supposed to be a stressful time for students, and yet I feel far more stressed on this side of things than I did when I was a student and on the other side of things.
P. and I recently finished reading this excellent book (aloud, to eachother, mostly in the car). The writer is a psychoanalyst from Britain who has a lot to say about developmental psychology and biology in babies and young children. She claims that human responses to stress are wired in babyhood (during the time the brain is growing and new synapses are forming, etc.), and can even be somewhat influenced while the child is still in utero. So every time I feel stressed now, I start to worry about the large amounts of cortisol I'm sending baby's way. I wish I could just calm down. I want to create an environment that will allow the kid to feel safe and confident. I'm hoping some of this time away from work next semester will help, but I have a lot of work to do. I'm not in control of myself as much as I wish I were. I need to develop some new strategies for soothing myself and for keeping my mood at a more even keel. Where to begin, though? When to begin is a little easier to answer: as soon as I get the rest of this grading done.
Friday, May 05, 2006
highs and lows
There are probably Kubler-Ross -like stages for dealing with news like this. I think I got the shock and (misdirected?) anger all at once. Now I'm blaming myself. I'm still not so happy with how the doctor presented this to P. and me the other day, but since we've been talking and reading more about clubfeet and possible treatments, we feel better able to assert ourselves at our next appointment and to ask the questions we need to.
Yesterday was a day of highs and lows. We attended our first childbirth class at the hospital. We had a tour of the labor and delivery rooms, nursery, etc., and got a lot of information from the nurse leading the class. I had no idea one needed to have a pediatrician already lined up before the birth! The nurse suggested interviewing doctors before choosing one. If we really are dealing with a birth defect, that's going to be terribly important. As nervous as I might sound now, the class itself was a bright spot in the day. I was excited about going, and I'm excited thinking about our little guy arriving. I think these classes (every week for six weeks) will make the time go by faster. We start separate Lamaze classes next week, too.
Here are the lows. First, I got the idea in my head that if the baby has a problem with his foot, it's my fault. Maybe I didn't take enough folic acid; maybe I shouldn't have had caffeine those times I've had it while pregnant. Maybe I squashed the kid accidently or did something else wrong. It's torture.
The other complication is this: while I'd been trying to deal with the situation by telling myself that we just don't even know if there's a problem or not yet, P. has been preparing himself for the worst. He handles all sorts of stresses like this, figuring that if he can resign himself to bad things happening, he's better able to deal with whatever comes. But his communicating these feelings of foreboding to me ("I'm pretty sure the baby has problems," he says) has made me jumpy and sometimes even panicked. I get easily overwhelmed thinking about this too much, especially now that I've started thinking I may be responsible for the problem. The "if this is the case, we'll do that" approach feels much safer to me. But P. works differently, and so we clash. Last night after getting in bed, P. started looking up yet more information about club foot on the internet, and it just got to be too much. I tried to explain the panic it was causing in me and wound up causing more tension between the two of us than I ever wanted. I guess I need to get a better grip on things, somehow.
Better news? Only a few days left of this crazy semester. Maybe I'll calm down a bit once my grades are in.
Yesterday was a day of highs and lows. We attended our first childbirth class at the hospital. We had a tour of the labor and delivery rooms, nursery, etc., and got a lot of information from the nurse leading the class. I had no idea one needed to have a pediatrician already lined up before the birth! The nurse suggested interviewing doctors before choosing one. If we really are dealing with a birth defect, that's going to be terribly important. As nervous as I might sound now, the class itself was a bright spot in the day. I was excited about going, and I'm excited thinking about our little guy arriving. I think these classes (every week for six weeks) will make the time go by faster. We start separate Lamaze classes next week, too.
Here are the lows. First, I got the idea in my head that if the baby has a problem with his foot, it's my fault. Maybe I didn't take enough folic acid; maybe I shouldn't have had caffeine those times I've had it while pregnant. Maybe I squashed the kid accidently or did something else wrong. It's torture.
The other complication is this: while I'd been trying to deal with the situation by telling myself that we just don't even know if there's a problem or not yet, P. has been preparing himself for the worst. He handles all sorts of stresses like this, figuring that if he can resign himself to bad things happening, he's better able to deal with whatever comes. But his communicating these feelings of foreboding to me ("I'm pretty sure the baby has problems," he says) has made me jumpy and sometimes even panicked. I get easily overwhelmed thinking about this too much, especially now that I've started thinking I may be responsible for the problem. The "if this is the case, we'll do that" approach feels much safer to me. But P. works differently, and so we clash. Last night after getting in bed, P. started looking up yet more information about club foot on the internet, and it just got to be too much. I tried to explain the panic it was causing in me and wound up causing more tension between the two of us than I ever wanted. I guess I need to get a better grip on things, somehow.
Better news? Only a few days left of this crazy semester. Maybe I'll calm down a bit once my grades are in.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
baby feet
We had a second ultrasound today, and I'm not quite sure what to make of it. The doctor said the ultrasound technician had made a note about one of the feet, which could have just been in an awkward position at the time of the ultrasound, but which also could be a club foot. "I'm sorry to hit you with this zinger," she said. Whatever that means. She said that in six more weeks we can have another ultrasound to check and see how things look then. The whole conversation took only a few minutes, and she was speaking so casually, it was hard for P. or me to figure out how seriously we should take things. I'm confused. The ultrasound technician spent very little time with us: if there were something present that looked like a problem, wouldn't she take a little more time to check things out? Or wouldn't the doctor take a closer look herself? And why wait six more weeks before we can check again? Why not have another ultrasound at the next appointment (in 2 weeks)?
P. & I did some reading about this when we got home, and it wouldn't be the most terrible thing ever if a club foot were what we're dealing with-- there are ways to correct the problem after birth. The news is still a bit unsettling, though.
I have to confess that I chose this ob in part because she's a she, even though a friend at work had much to recommend another (male) doctor in town. My ob has always been very business-like and a little abrupt with us. Most of our appointments haven't lasted longer than 10 minuets. That was okay with me. But this time, that quickness and demeanor didn't feel quite so good. Moving early is starting to look less daunting-- maybe a new ob would be a good change?
P. & I did some reading about this when we got home, and it wouldn't be the most terrible thing ever if a club foot were what we're dealing with-- there are ways to correct the problem after birth. The news is still a bit unsettling, though.
I have to confess that I chose this ob in part because she's a she, even though a friend at work had much to recommend another (male) doctor in town. My ob has always been very business-like and a little abrupt with us. Most of our appointments haven't lasted longer than 10 minuets. That was okay with me. But this time, that quickness and demeanor didn't feel quite so good. Moving early is starting to look less daunting-- maybe a new ob would be a good change?
Sunday, April 30, 2006
a humble poll
As ETBA (estimated time till baby's arrival) approaches zero, P. and are having to make lots of new, important decisions. They're decisions we unfortunately have to make without all of the information we'd like (this sounds familiar-- it was the same deal with deciding where to take jobs). The biggest one concerns where exactly we should have the baby. We can either have the baby here and then move, or move and then have the baby. But I'm oversimplifying even this. We're not even sure yet whether we'll be able to extend our lease-- if we can't, we have to be out of here no later than June 30. The other variable, of course, involves when exactly the baby will make his arrival. Will he be early or late? On time? It matters.
I've been trying to ask every mother I know to weigh in on this, and I'm getting conflicting advice. Some say that it's definitely better to have baby here if possible and then move. In that case, I won't have to worry about finding a new OB in a new city, and I'll be able to avoid a drive half-way across the country during which we'll have to stop every hour for me to stretch my legs and/or use the bathroom. This camp claims that newborns are very easy to travel with-- that the baby will sleep most of the time, anyway, and that moving 2 weeks after the birth is perfectly do-able. Besides, it's much cheaper to pay another month's rent here than in New City.
A friend in the other camp claims very forcefully that it's better to move as soon as I turn in my final grades, regardless of the expense it takes to do so; that it's infinitely better to travel pregnant with stops every hour than to try moving after the baby's born. Not only might the car trip be more stressful, but it will be very difficult to get settled in with a baby someone's got to hold onto and without a LOT of help on the other end.
So what do you think? Which is the lesser evil?
I've been trying to ask every mother I know to weigh in on this, and I'm getting conflicting advice. Some say that it's definitely better to have baby here if possible and then move. In that case, I won't have to worry about finding a new OB in a new city, and I'll be able to avoid a drive half-way across the country during which we'll have to stop every hour for me to stretch my legs and/or use the bathroom. This camp claims that newborns are very easy to travel with-- that the baby will sleep most of the time, anyway, and that moving 2 weeks after the birth is perfectly do-able. Besides, it's much cheaper to pay another month's rent here than in New City.
A friend in the other camp claims very forcefully that it's better to move as soon as I turn in my final grades, regardless of the expense it takes to do so; that it's infinitely better to travel pregnant with stops every hour than to try moving after the baby's born. Not only might the car trip be more stressful, but it will be very difficult to get settled in with a baby someone's got to hold onto and without a LOT of help on the other end.
So what do you think? Which is the lesser evil?
Saturday, April 15, 2006
I'm kinda consumed with work these days, and probably should be grading, even now. I hate how I've neglected this blog, but when I get this way, when I've worked myself into this big blob of stress, I really just don't like who I am or how I write.
The changes coming in these next few months excite me, but also make me verrrry anxious. Sometimes I feel that the way things have worked out is a good thing-- that the situation will force me to try out a nonacademic job which I have sometimes dreamed about. And yet I worry I just don't have the personality to go out and get such a job. I've only ever been in school-- how do I sell myself as something else? I also worry that finding non-academic work means less time with the baby. And then there's also that fear that I'm just not good enough at anything to get a job I might actually like doing/find meaningful.
See? You don't want to read this.
The changes coming in these next few months excite me, but also make me verrrry anxious. Sometimes I feel that the way things have worked out is a good thing-- that the situation will force me to try out a nonacademic job which I have sometimes dreamed about. And yet I worry I just don't have the personality to go out and get such a job. I've only ever been in school-- how do I sell myself as something else? I also worry that finding non-academic work means less time with the baby. And then there's also that fear that I'm just not good enough at anything to get a job I might actually like doing/find meaningful.
See? You don't want to read this.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
help
Dear friends of the blogosphere,
It's been a stressful past few weeks. P. and I both got job offers in desirable places, but they were too far apart from each other to make it work. It came down to making a choice between his offer (which might give me part time, adjunct work) and mine (which would have given him a visiting full time instructor job). P. did extremely well on the market this year-- four offers and many more campus visit requests (several of which he turned down), but was worried that taking a ntt position right out of grad school would hurt his chances on the market next year. Emotionally he had a hard time turning down the jobs he did. I was/am also a bit freaked out since leaving a t-t job and giving up another, better t-t offer for low paid adjunct work seems very risky, especially if it's true that only 40% of English phds find academic jobs in the first place, and also because historically I haven't done as well on the market as P.
At any rate, seeing P. so sad and worried really got to me. He was convinced, and convinced me, too, for a while, that even if we went to my offer and both went on the market again next year we'd end up having the same problem. Since his offer was in a better location for finding jobs outside of academe (because we really want to stay together- no long distance commuter marriage for us), we figured maybe in the long run it was smarter to go there. He was feeling guilty. I was the one who even talked him into it; I'd toyed with the idea of exploring jobs outside academe anyway; if we moved to Big City, I could finally try my luck. Plus, with the baby coming, it might be nice not to have to start a new tt job only four weeks or so after the kid is born. Sure, our finances would be a bit tighter for the year, but eventually I might find something, and I could apply for both academic and nonacademic jobs until then, right?
The night we made the decision and I turned down my offer (an offer so generous I really don't think I'll ever get another one like it), I felt strangely calm, even like celebrating. It was so good to have the decision made and behind us. I felt like at last we could move forward; I was resolved.
But now, I'm just sad. I'm not sure I'm ready to give up teaching, and I'm worried I won't be able to get back into tenure-track work. I'm hoping I can use the extra time off to work on publishing a bit more; maybe that will help, but still. I'm scared. And I'm not sure sure HOW to break into other kinds of work, either. The only experience I have is what I've gotten from the academy. The job I have now is the first real job I ever took. I went straight from undergrad to grad school to here, no stops in between.
It's hard talking to P. about this because I don't want to make him feel guilty. I honestly want him to be excited about his job and future. It's just, with my current school now making plans to hire a new person, I'm feeling kinda sad. I need to make plans, figure out what to do with myself, and soon. I've read about non-academic jobs I might have interest in, and they all require writing samples-- preferably free lance work. But how do I get free lance work? (This is an honest question-- if anyone can help, please tell me!)
I know I'll feel better about this decision once we're in Big City and the baby is here, but for now I'm feeling very lost and futureless.
It's been a stressful past few weeks. P. and I both got job offers in desirable places, but they were too far apart from each other to make it work. It came down to making a choice between his offer (which might give me part time, adjunct work) and mine (which would have given him a visiting full time instructor job). P. did extremely well on the market this year-- four offers and many more campus visit requests (several of which he turned down), but was worried that taking a ntt position right out of grad school would hurt his chances on the market next year. Emotionally he had a hard time turning down the jobs he did. I was/am also a bit freaked out since leaving a t-t job and giving up another, better t-t offer for low paid adjunct work seems very risky, especially if it's true that only 40% of English phds find academic jobs in the first place, and also because historically I haven't done as well on the market as P.
At any rate, seeing P. so sad and worried really got to me. He was convinced, and convinced me, too, for a while, that even if we went to my offer and both went on the market again next year we'd end up having the same problem. Since his offer was in a better location for finding jobs outside of academe (because we really want to stay together- no long distance commuter marriage for us), we figured maybe in the long run it was smarter to go there. He was feeling guilty. I was the one who even talked him into it; I'd toyed with the idea of exploring jobs outside academe anyway; if we moved to Big City, I could finally try my luck. Plus, with the baby coming, it might be nice not to have to start a new tt job only four weeks or so after the kid is born. Sure, our finances would be a bit tighter for the year, but eventually I might find something, and I could apply for both academic and nonacademic jobs until then, right?
The night we made the decision and I turned down my offer (an offer so generous I really don't think I'll ever get another one like it), I felt strangely calm, even like celebrating. It was so good to have the decision made and behind us. I felt like at last we could move forward; I was resolved.
But now, I'm just sad. I'm not sure I'm ready to give up teaching, and I'm worried I won't be able to get back into tenure-track work. I'm hoping I can use the extra time off to work on publishing a bit more; maybe that will help, but still. I'm scared. And I'm not sure sure HOW to break into other kinds of work, either. The only experience I have is what I've gotten from the academy. The job I have now is the first real job I ever took. I went straight from undergrad to grad school to here, no stops in between.
It's hard talking to P. about this because I don't want to make him feel guilty. I honestly want him to be excited about his job and future. It's just, with my current school now making plans to hire a new person, I'm feeling kinda sad. I need to make plans, figure out what to do with myself, and soon. I've read about non-academic jobs I might have interest in, and they all require writing samples-- preferably free lance work. But how do I get free lance work? (This is an honest question-- if anyone can help, please tell me!)
I know I'll feel better about this decision once we're in Big City and the baby is here, but for now I'm feeling very lost and futureless.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
bedtime poems
I haven't written in ages. Though there's been plenty of wonderous things to write about, I've been so busy (and still icky feeling, unfortunately), that I just haven't been able to get my head in the right place to write.
We had our sonogram, finally. It was amazing and strange, and the first time I really became aware that this little person that's growing inside of me is really something other, something that's not me. We could see little fingers, little hands moving to touch his own face. I can't help but think that this creature is learning, already. How strange it was to have a peek into this other world, one I imagine as warm and silent, though I'm told he can hear us now, may even be able to see light shining through my belly.
We've learned that he's a he, and that makes the personhood and otherness of this baby seem even more real. Those details somehow create more, not less mystery around the whole thing for me. I can't wait for us to meet.
Today I rediscovered another poem from my childhood, in this book that P. bought for the baby. It's a wonderful book-- comes with a CD which has lots of poets reading poems. I love the selection of poems there, and how much emphasis seems to be put on the pleasure of the sounds of the words. Anyway, since I know others have begun posting poems weekly, I'd just post this. It was one of my favoirte poems as a kid. I learned all of the words by heart. I found it romantic, somehow. I guess I still do.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
Eugene Field
We had our sonogram, finally. It was amazing and strange, and the first time I really became aware that this little person that's growing inside of me is really something other, something that's not me. We could see little fingers, little hands moving to touch his own face. I can't help but think that this creature is learning, already. How strange it was to have a peek into this other world, one I imagine as warm and silent, though I'm told he can hear us now, may even be able to see light shining through my belly.
We've learned that he's a he, and that makes the personhood and otherness of this baby seem even more real. Those details somehow create more, not less mystery around the whole thing for me. I can't wait for us to meet.
Today I rediscovered another poem from my childhood, in this book that P. bought for the baby. It's a wonderful book-- comes with a CD which has lots of poets reading poems. I love the selection of poems there, and how much emphasis seems to be put on the pleasure of the sounds of the words. Anyway, since I know others have begun posting poems weekly, I'd just post this. It was one of my favoirte poems as a kid. I learned all of the words by heart. I found it romantic, somehow. I guess I still do.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
Eugene Field
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 't was a dream they 'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea---
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Friday, January 13, 2006
15 weeks!
Can I just say how excited I am to be more than a third of the way through this? We're having the sonogram and will attempt to locate boy/girl parts at the end of the month. I'm still feeling sick. My doctor prescribed some medication, finally, which wound up averaging (I kid you not) $40 per pill. It works well (for 24 hours, even, the first time I tried it), but since I was only given 6, and we can't afford the refills, I'm trying to save them up for this campus visit (early next week!).
Also, I'm wondering, if this academic job thing doesn't work out, might I have any chance of becoming one of these?
Also, I'm wondering, if this academic job thing doesn't work out, might I have any chance of becoming one of these?
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
my parents... again
So I'd been feeling terribly guilty about how grouchy I've found myself feeling during all these phone conversations with my mom. She calls a few times a week, and is always full of questions. I've found myself answering them in short sentences, wanting not to engage, wanting to keep my pregnancy and the rest of what's happening to me mostly to myself.
Now I'm starting to realize that I have good reason for feeling this way.
So, I mentioned this campus interviewI have coming up. It's at a school a really like, and in a part of the country I'd love to live in. If P. weren't to get a job somewhere else (I won't be surprised if he gets several offers), it would be a good place to bring him too, as there are large cities (= more jobs) close enough by. So I've been trying to pull together material for my research and teaching presentations. I was excited about the possibilities there.
But then, my parents called. My mom talked first, asked me if I was still going (???), asked if I'd found out more information about what the visit will entail. I told her a few more details, and she wondered aloud if it was "worth all that trouble." "Are you really suggesting I call and just tell them I'm not coming?" I asked her. No, it wasn't that, she said, but then she asked "what if they want you to commit right away?" and she asked about P. I told her that neither of us has an offer in hand yet, and this place is actually a really good opportunity. She reminded me that "you're married, and you two have to go together," and then suggested that really I just need to be waiting for P. to get a job because that school could probably come up with something for me, anyway. No, mom, actually spousal hires aren't that easy to come by-- we can't rule out anything yet--
she hands the phone to my dad. He mentions the high cost of living in the area where this school is, told me I better make sure to ask about insurance and benefits, etc., and then also brought up P. "Your job's really secondary at this point," he said.
What the fuck is wrong with them?!?!? P. and I have talked about the two-job situation extensively, and he's never been anything less than supportive about my career. We're already planning to do everything we possibly can to end up in the same place, but we recognize that doesn't always happen. We recognize we'll have difficult decisions to make later on, but we'll try to go where there are the best options for all three of us. I hate my parents' butting in on this (though they assured me in precisely those words that that's not what they were doing). It makes me angry and it hurts my feelings for them to tell me that my career is "secondary." This is a competetive school-- I had to beat out a lot of people to get as far as I have. It hurts not to have gotten a "congratulations" or even a "good luck" from them.
All my life I've had issues with trying to please my parents. I got a ph.D, I got a job my first year on the market, and they were proud. But now that P.'s degree is finished (and probably becasue I'm pregnant, too), that's all over. Now they find it necessary to talk to me about what my new and "secondary" role should be.
Now I'm starting to realize that I have good reason for feeling this way.
So, I mentioned this campus interviewI have coming up. It's at a school a really like, and in a part of the country I'd love to live in. If P. weren't to get a job somewhere else (I won't be surprised if he gets several offers), it would be a good place to bring him too, as there are large cities (= more jobs) close enough by. So I've been trying to pull together material for my research and teaching presentations. I was excited about the possibilities there.
But then, my parents called. My mom talked first, asked me if I was still going (???), asked if I'd found out more information about what the visit will entail. I told her a few more details, and she wondered aloud if it was "worth all that trouble." "Are you really suggesting I call and just tell them I'm not coming?" I asked her. No, it wasn't that, she said, but then she asked "what if they want you to commit right away?" and she asked about P. I told her that neither of us has an offer in hand yet, and this place is actually a really good opportunity. She reminded me that "you're married, and you two have to go together," and then suggested that really I just need to be waiting for P. to get a job because that school could probably come up with something for me, anyway. No, mom, actually spousal hires aren't that easy to come by-- we can't rule out anything yet--
she hands the phone to my dad. He mentions the high cost of living in the area where this school is, told me I better make sure to ask about insurance and benefits, etc., and then also brought up P. "Your job's really secondary at this point," he said.
What the fuck is wrong with them?!?!? P. and I have talked about the two-job situation extensively, and he's never been anything less than supportive about my career. We're already planning to do everything we possibly can to end up in the same place, but we recognize that doesn't always happen. We recognize we'll have difficult decisions to make later on, but we'll try to go where there are the best options for all three of us. I hate my parents' butting in on this (though they assured me in precisely those words that that's not what they were doing). It makes me angry and it hurts my feelings for them to tell me that my career is "secondary." This is a competetive school-- I had to beat out a lot of people to get as far as I have. It hurts not to have gotten a "congratulations" or even a "good luck" from them.
All my life I've had issues with trying to please my parents. I got a ph.D, I got a job my first year on the market, and they were proud. But now that P.'s degree is finished (and probably becasue I'm pregnant, too), that's all over. Now they find it necessary to talk to me about what my new and "secondary" role should be.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
update
one more rejection, but also a campus visit request. I have a one in three chance, and it's at one of my favorites of the places I interviewed with at MLA. Yikes. trying not to get my hopes up too much, but I'm feeling far more motivated now than I was.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
where do i belong?
First post-mla rejection came today. There will be more.
I dream of getting out of this line of work, but where can I go? I'm not even sure how to begin, where to look for something new.
I dream of getting out of this line of work, but where can I go? I'm not even sure how to begin, where to look for something new.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
two hearts
another day at the OB. The whole appointment took maybe 10 minutes, but we heard the baby's heartbeat today! On the way home, I remarked to P. on the strangeness of my having two hearts inside of me, and he informed me that that topologically, that's not really the case. Sure it is! Baby's heart is beating about 170 beats per minute. Excitable little thing. In four weeks, we have the sonogram. The nurse claims they'll only do one unless it's medically necessary to do more, so if we can't tell the sex of the baby next time, we might just have to be surprised. I'm feeling very grumpy about this nurse. This is the same nurse, who, when I called pre-MLA interviews to ask about the possibility of nausea medication, refused me, when the doctor today offered to give me something without my even having to ask. grrrr.
I'm still puking and feeling nauseous almost all of the time which has made me a bit grumpy and unpleasant. I hope this passes soon. I've also gotten into this terrible habit of imagining what the dishes I eat might look like thrown up. I have more knowledge on this subject now than I ever wanted to have.
The interviews went okay, I guess, but I hestitate to get too excited about anything. I am getting more and more anxious about our soon-to-be three body problem, though. So far, none of P.'s conference interviews match up even with states I've interviewed in.
I sound grumpy to myself even here. Don't mean to. I am excited about the pregnancy, and have plenty to be happy about, and things are good with P. But this ugly sensation makes it hard to think about much else.
Hope to see you all on the other side of this soon.
I'm still puking and feeling nauseous almost all of the time which has made me a bit grumpy and unpleasant. I hope this passes soon. I've also gotten into this terrible habit of imagining what the dishes I eat might look like thrown up. I have more knowledge on this subject now than I ever wanted to have.
The interviews went okay, I guess, but I hestitate to get too excited about anything. I am getting more and more anxious about our soon-to-be three body problem, though. So far, none of P.'s conference interviews match up even with states I've interviewed in.
I sound grumpy to myself even here. Don't mean to. I am excited about the pregnancy, and have plenty to be happy about, and things are good with P. But this ugly sensation makes it hard to think about much else.
Hope to see you all on the other side of this soon.
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