I have always been a bit of a softy. I have a hard time watching some sitcoms, because I don't like to see people (even fictional ones) embarrassed. I cry at all the sappy, predictable times in movies.
Motherhood has only amplified this tendency, particularly when it comes to the suffering of children around the world. The piece on CNN.com about Youssif, a little boy who was attacked and burned while playing outside his home in Iraq, made me cry, really just sit there and cry, when I read it. I kept checking back and was so relieved when I read that he would be getting help. Clearly, this was a dramatic story that touched a lot of people. However, the strength of my reaction surprised me, particularly since I was out of the early "cry at car commercials" phase of motherhood. I remember asking my doctor at my 6 week check up about when my emotions would go back to normal, and not really believing him when he said that they never would, at least not if by "normal" I meant "how I was before I got pregnant". He said something about how parenthood changes your outlook, and I thought "sure, whatever". But now I think he is right. It is not like I had a complete change in outlook, but things that always bothered me now bother me even more.
And of course, there are children suffering all over the world. Just today, I came across a story at the Economist about new research on that shows that giving away bed nets can dramatically decrease the incidence of malaria. One quote really stuck out:
Based on the new results, Dr Kochi reckons that a five-year campaign costing about $10 billion would be enough to bring malaria under control in most of Africa, reducing the death rate to a matter of thousands a year.
$10 billion. Surely we can do that? I think I need to add The Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis, and Malaria to my charities list for 2008.
The problem, of course, is that there are so many worthy causes.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Update on Nightweaning and Dairy
Food and sleep... the two main topics of conversation in our house. As in "how did she eat?" and "how did she sleep?" (Parenthood is very romantic.)
However, there is good news in both categories. On the food front, you may remember that I had gone off dairy again, fearing that she was still having the gas trouble that dairy in my diet caused her during her first 6 months. My doctor tactfully told me, and I already knew, that a dairy sensitivity at 9 months is rare. So we decided to do a "dairy challenge" a few weeks ago. She seemed to pass (i.e., there were no screaming gas incidents), but she also threw up the first night of my dairy fest. We strongly suspected that this had nothing to do with dairy- she was getting a cold, and she tends to throw up from the congestion. (Parenthood is also very glamorous.) But I went back off dairy just in case. We tried again last weekend and I'm happy to report that I am now eating cheese and yogurt, and Pumpkin is showing no signs of minding. This weekend, I may try for ice cream. I really, really miss ice cream.
On the sleep front, the nightweaning is still going really well. Really, really well. Last night, I got her down at about 8 (after 45 minutes of laying her down, having her roll over and sit up, then laying her back down... but that is the topic of another post). She woke up briefly at 8:45 in need of a binky and a pat. And then she slept until 3:15. Without a peep. Hubby and I had set a goal of not nursing her until 2:30, and expected that he would have to spend some time bouncing an annoyed Pumpkin to get her to that time. Imagine my surprise when I woke up at 1:15 and realized that it was Hubby making noise and not Pumpkin! She finally cried at 3:15. I got up and nursed her, and got her back down quickly. She then slept until 5:30. I think she would have slept longer but her diaper was wet. I'll have to start changing her in the middle of the night again. We don't expect such a good night again tonight, but we are thrilled to know that such a night is possible.
Of course, now we are wondering if we could have done this months ago. I am choosing to believe that we would not have been as successful then, that we happened to choose to start nightweaning at the exact time at which Pumpkin was ready for the change. That is my story, and I'm sticking to it.
However, there is good news in both categories. On the food front, you may remember that I had gone off dairy again, fearing that she was still having the gas trouble that dairy in my diet caused her during her first 6 months. My doctor tactfully told me, and I already knew, that a dairy sensitivity at 9 months is rare. So we decided to do a "dairy challenge" a few weeks ago. She seemed to pass (i.e., there were no screaming gas incidents), but she also threw up the first night of my dairy fest. We strongly suspected that this had nothing to do with dairy- she was getting a cold, and she tends to throw up from the congestion. (Parenthood is also very glamorous.) But I went back off dairy just in case. We tried again last weekend and I'm happy to report that I am now eating cheese and yogurt, and Pumpkin is showing no signs of minding. This weekend, I may try for ice cream. I really, really miss ice cream.
On the sleep front, the nightweaning is still going really well. Really, really well. Last night, I got her down at about 8 (after 45 minutes of laying her down, having her roll over and sit up, then laying her back down... but that is the topic of another post). She woke up briefly at 8:45 in need of a binky and a pat. And then she slept until 3:15. Without a peep. Hubby and I had set a goal of not nursing her until 2:30, and expected that he would have to spend some time bouncing an annoyed Pumpkin to get her to that time. Imagine my surprise when I woke up at 1:15 and realized that it was Hubby making noise and not Pumpkin! She finally cried at 3:15. I got up and nursed her, and got her back down quickly. She then slept until 5:30. I think she would have slept longer but her diaper was wet. I'll have to start changing her in the middle of the night again. We don't expect such a good night again tonight, but we are thrilled to know that such a night is possible.
Of course, now we are wondering if we could have done this months ago. I am choosing to believe that we would not have been as successful then, that we happened to choose to start nightweaning at the exact time at which Pumpkin was ready for the change. That is my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Working Mum: The Business Trip
When Pumpkin was 6 months old, I had to take a business trip. Being the stress bunny that I am, I stressed out about this and did a lot of googling trying to find out how to manage the logistics of being a nursing mother who is flying across country without her baby. The trip went better than I thought it would, but it was clear afterwards that the information I found online didn't really help me much. This feeling was one of the reasons why I revived my blog and repurposed it from a travel blog to the mishmash it is today. However, I never got around to writing about that business trip. Today, Moxie has a post about business travel when you have kids. There are some great tips in the comments (as always), but they mostly focus on older babies and toddlers. So I'm finally going to write about that business trip, which was almost four months ago now.
The first concern I had was what Pumpkin would eat while I was gone. We had started her on some solids at about 5 months, because she was very curious about what we were doing when we ate and because I knew that this trip was coming up. However, it was clear that most of her calories and nutrients still came from me. We considered using some formula, but she had trouble with dairy in my diet , so we were reluctant to try "normal" formula (which is based on cow's milk) and didn't really want to embark on a grand experiment to find out which formula might work well for her. Therefore, I pumped like crazy. I made a worst case estimate of how many ounces she might drink while I was gone, and left more than that behind. This worked well- she did not drink everything I left.
My next concern was how I would transport my pump and expressed breastmilk while I was flying. I did some searching on the TSA website and was relieved to find that they now allow expressed milk in any quantity in carry on without needing the baby to be along on the trip. Breast pumps are also OK for carry on. I printed out all of this information, in case I ran into a TSA agent who wasn't aware of the rules. In fact, I had no problem transporting the pump or the milk I brought home in carry on, although on both legs of my trip, the TSA agent to whom I declared my pump and milk bellowed out "BREAST PUMP COMING THROUGH!!!" so it is certainly not something to do if you're shy about the fact that you are nursing.
Pumping on the travel day also required that I find my inner brazen lactavist. I had to fly across country, and then drive an hour to my final destination. This made for an 8-10 hour trip, so I was clearly going to need to pump in transit. My first plan was to pump in the airplane bathroom. A sympathetic flight attendant let me use the first class bathroom, but I still felt incredibly guilty occupying such an important resource for 10 whole minutes. Besides, it was cramped and I was petrified we'd hit turbulence that would send me and my pump hurtling into the air.
My next idea was to pump during my layover. I asked at the airport "help desk" about a family room and was told there was no such thing at this airport (O'Hare), so I headed to the bathroom. This was not a great idea, either. Almost all airport bathrooms have automatically flushing toilets now, and it is just not possible to hold still enough for 10 minutes to avoid the flush. So I sat there pumping... whoosh, whoosh, whoosh... FLUSH...whoosh, whoosh, whoosh... FLUSH..... Thankfully, the toilet I was on didn't spurt water when it flushed, or I would have been wet as well as annoyed.
Finally I settled on the one method I was sure I couldn't handle when I started the trip. I had a window seat on my next flight. I took out my large shawl, wrapped it around myself, turned towards the window, and pumped at my seat. This actually worked best. The shawl hid the pump apparatus, so it just looked like I had a black bag on my tray table. The noise of the airplane engines covered the telltale whooshing, and I got to stay safely strapped into my seat comfortable reading my magazine. On the flight back, I didn't even try another method.
My final concern was how to transport the large volume of milk I expressed during my trip back to my home. I did some internet research, and thought that it would be best to freeze some of it and put it in my checked bag. I read that several bags of frozen milk, packed with a frozen gel pack in an insulated bag would probably make it home still frozen. I also read that most hotels will put the milk in the freezer for you. So I went to the front desk of the hotel I stayed at on the night before my flight home and asked them to put my large ziploc bags full of milk storage bags and my two gel packs in the freezer. They agreed, and I went happily off to bed. I stumbled downstairs at 5 a.m. the next morning , and asked to collect my milk. The nice lady at the desk went away and came back with a stricken look on her face. They'd put the milk in the refrigerator, not the freezer. I had approximately 50 ounces of milk and no way to keep it cold for the trip home.
I was too shocked to do anything but take the milk and head off to catch my flight. Once at the airport, I made a last ditch effort to save the milk. I asked the attendant checking me in if she had any ideas about what I could do. She disappeared into the back and came back with one frozen gel pack, which she gave me. I was so grateful that I almost cried (damn hormones). This enabled me to get half of my milk home safely, which was better than none. However, I kept thinking about all of the ice cream I could have eaten at dinner the night before if I'd known the milk I was going to pump when I got to my hotel would end up being thrown out. (Pumpkin's dairy sensitivity means that I haven't had much ice cream since she was born. I miss ice cream more than anything else I've given up while nursing.)
So, my "lessons learned" from this trip were:
The first concern I had was what Pumpkin would eat while I was gone. We had started her on some solids at about 5 months, because she was very curious about what we were doing when we ate and because I knew that this trip was coming up. However, it was clear that most of her calories and nutrients still came from me. We considered using some formula, but she had trouble with dairy in my diet , so we were reluctant to try "normal" formula (which is based on cow's milk) and didn't really want to embark on a grand experiment to find out which formula might work well for her. Therefore, I pumped like crazy. I made a worst case estimate of how many ounces she might drink while I was gone, and left more than that behind. This worked well- she did not drink everything I left.
My next concern was how I would transport my pump and expressed breastmilk while I was flying. I did some searching on the TSA website and was relieved to find that they now allow expressed milk in any quantity in carry on without needing the baby to be along on the trip. Breast pumps are also OK for carry on. I printed out all of this information, in case I ran into a TSA agent who wasn't aware of the rules. In fact, I had no problem transporting the pump or the milk I brought home in carry on, although on both legs of my trip, the TSA agent to whom I declared my pump and milk bellowed out "BREAST PUMP COMING THROUGH!!!" so it is certainly not something to do if you're shy about the fact that you are nursing.
Pumping on the travel day also required that I find my inner brazen lactavist. I had to fly across country, and then drive an hour to my final destination. This made for an 8-10 hour trip, so I was clearly going to need to pump in transit. My first plan was to pump in the airplane bathroom. A sympathetic flight attendant let me use the first class bathroom, but I still felt incredibly guilty occupying such an important resource for 10 whole minutes. Besides, it was cramped and I was petrified we'd hit turbulence that would send me and my pump hurtling into the air.
My next idea was to pump during my layover. I asked at the airport "help desk" about a family room and was told there was no such thing at this airport (O'Hare), so I headed to the bathroom. This was not a great idea, either. Almost all airport bathrooms have automatically flushing toilets now, and it is just not possible to hold still enough for 10 minutes to avoid the flush. So I sat there pumping... whoosh, whoosh, whoosh... FLUSH...whoosh, whoosh, whoosh... FLUSH..... Thankfully, the toilet I was on didn't spurt water when it flushed, or I would have been wet as well as annoyed.
Finally I settled on the one method I was sure I couldn't handle when I started the trip. I had a window seat on my next flight. I took out my large shawl, wrapped it around myself, turned towards the window, and pumped at my seat. This actually worked best. The shawl hid the pump apparatus, so it just looked like I had a black bag on my tray table. The noise of the airplane engines covered the telltale whooshing, and I got to stay safely strapped into my seat comfortable reading my magazine. On the flight back, I didn't even try another method.
My final concern was how to transport the large volume of milk I expressed during my trip back to my home. I did some internet research, and thought that it would be best to freeze some of it and put it in my checked bag. I read that several bags of frozen milk, packed with a frozen gel pack in an insulated bag would probably make it home still frozen. I also read that most hotels will put the milk in the freezer for you. So I went to the front desk of the hotel I stayed at on the night before my flight home and asked them to put my large ziploc bags full of milk storage bags and my two gel packs in the freezer. They agreed, and I went happily off to bed. I stumbled downstairs at 5 a.m. the next morning , and asked to collect my milk. The nice lady at the desk went away and came back with a stricken look on her face. They'd put the milk in the refrigerator, not the freezer. I had approximately 50 ounces of milk and no way to keep it cold for the trip home.
I was too shocked to do anything but take the milk and head off to catch my flight. Once at the airport, I made a last ditch effort to save the milk. I asked the attendant checking me in if she had any ideas about what I could do. She disappeared into the back and came back with one frozen gel pack, which she gave me. I was so grateful that I almost cried (damn hormones). This enabled me to get half of my milk home safely, which was better than none. However, I kept thinking about all of the ice cream I could have eaten at dinner the night before if I'd known the milk I was going to pump when I got to my hotel would end up being thrown out. (Pumpkin's dairy sensitivity means that I haven't had much ice cream since she was born. I miss ice cream more than anything else I've given up while nursing.)
So, my "lessons learned" from this trip were:
- Get over your fear and pump in your seat on the plane. Ask for a window seat, use a large shawl, and it will actually be fairly discreet.
- People who have never tried to pump out enough milk to feed a baby don't have the proper reverence for your breast milk. Try to get a room where you can freeze your gel packs and/or milk yourself rather than relying on the hotel front desk. Next time, I'll stay at a Residence Inn or someplace similar.
- The business trip wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but I also didn't catch up on my sleep as much as I could have. Next time, I'd leave a little earlier in the day so that I could arrive at my destination in time to get a full night's sleep. This is the proper reward for being away from my baby and putting up with the indignities of traveling while pumping.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
A Taxonomy of Guilt
I'm a member of a book club, which I credit with getting me reading grown up books again after Pumpkin was born. It reminded me that I needed more intellectually stimulating things to read than Leo Lionni's A Color of His Own (an early favorite of Pumpkin's). January's book was Liars and Saints, by Maile Meloy. One of the themes of the book is guilt and its impact on the family at the center of the story. This got me thinking about the guilt in my life. I think there are several distinct types:
When I stopped and thought about the guilt I've been feeling, I was a bit surprised by the amount of it. I wasn't even raised Catholic! The guilt easily fades into the background, forming a sort of constant back drop for my life, occasionally prodding me into cleaning the bathroom when I would really rather read my book. Still, I don't think it is doing me any good. I think I should try to let some of it go... hmmm... if I am not careful, I am going to end up with Zen Guilt (the disconnect between the stress-free, live in the moment sort of life I think I should lead, and the crazy, over-planned, sometimes quite stressful life I have)....
- Mommy guilt - this is probably the most frequent type of guilt I experience right now. It is due to the disconnect between the idealized Mommy in my brain and the real Mommy that I am. I feel this when I want to go back to bed (or read a book, or do anything else, really) rather than play with Pumpkin. I feel this when I work a little late and get to day care to discover that she's had another bottle rather than waiting for me to nurse her. I really felt it last night when I realized I'd put Pumpkin to bed without her final nursing. (We'd messed with our routine, due to her eating a late dinner. I was supposed to nurse her after her bath, when I usually nurse her before her bath. I completely forgot, read her stories and got her down in her crib (she fell asleep in the crib! Not in my arms!) and left feeling quite pleased with myself, until I realized, while looking at the unusually large volume of milk that I'd pumped out in my before bed pumping, that I'd never nursed her. What kind of mother does that?)
- Feminist guilt - I feel this guilt due to the disconnect between the idealized career woman and role model for future female scientists/techies in my brain and the real woman that I am. I've been feeling it a lot more frequently since Pumpkin came along. The primary cause of this guilt right now is the fact that my life completely revolves around Pumpkin (which is certainly how my Mommy Guilt thinks it should be) and I haven't been very good about keeping up with the networking/professional society type things I used to do. I can usually stamp this guilt out by reminding myself that feminism was about giving women choices, and that I probably still look like a reasonable role model to the occasional up and coming female scientist I meet. She doesn't know what a wreck my house is (see Homeowner's Guilt, below) or that I think 9 p.m. is a late bedtime. Besides, I remember wishing there were more female scientists with families when I was an up and coming female scientist. It seemed like all the successful women were single, or at least had no kids.
- Enviro-guilt - this is another common form of guilt in my life right now.
It is caused by the disconnect between the environmentally friendly lifestyle I feel we should be living and the real life we are living. In fairness, we aren't doing too badly. We have two cars, but one is a Prius. We try to use cloth shopping bags and reusable containers. We recycle religiously. Hubby is spending a lot of time enviro-fitting our house (the current project is putting insulation on the hot water pipes). But there is so much more we want to do. We want to replace our front yard with a low water use garden. We want to set up composting. We could use our gDiapers more. You get the idea.
- Social guilt - this is closely related to enviro-guilt. It is caused by the disconnect between the things I think I should do for the community and the very little that I actually do. I write checks to charity, and we adopted a family for Christmas. And that's about it. I always think about doing the outreach programs the local chapter of the Association for Women in Science runs. I think I should volunteer at the retirement home down the street. I think we should write bigger checks to more charities. In short, I think we could be better global citizens.
- Homeowner's guilt - this guilt is caused by the disconnect between the nice, clean, organized, beautiful home I want and the sort of messy, really rather disorganized home we have. This is one of the easiest forms of guilt to ignore, which is why our home office is such a wreck that Pumpkin isn't allowed into it, and why when I lifted the toilet seat to flush Pumpkin's gDiaper tonight I was a bit disgusted by what I saw. (Hubby has confessed to peeing in the dark when he gets up with Pumpkin in the middle of the night. I can't really argue, since I do it, too. I don't think I make quite as much mess.) However, Hubby's boundless energy for home improvement tasks tends to make me feel that I should muster up some more enthusiasm for the items on my homeowner's to do list.
When I stopped and thought about the guilt I've been feeling, I was a bit surprised by the amount of it. I wasn't even raised Catholic! The guilt easily fades into the background, forming a sort of constant back drop for my life, occasionally prodding me into cleaning the bathroom when I would really rather read my book. Still, I don't think it is doing me any good. I think I should try to let some of it go... hmmm... if I am not careful, I am going to end up with Zen Guilt (the disconnect between the stress-free, live in the moment sort of life I think I should lead, and the crazy, over-planned, sometimes quite stressful life I have)....
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