Vancouver Birth Lounge

on January 23, 2011 9 Comments

I have been talking about Crafting my Life pretty much non-stop around here. I’m working hard to set the example that self-promotion is OK, because it is. I’m borrowing inspiration from Danielle LaPorte’s fabulous “radiate and state the facts” philosophy. But, that’s not all I’m working on.

I still have a book dream! If you haven’t heard about this, or you’ve forgotten, my big book idea involves collecting stories from first-time parents who welcomed their baby while living in Canada. I’m looking for pregnancy stories, birth stories, adoption stories, breastfeeding (or not breastfeeding) stories and stories about adjusting to life with a newborn. I’m collecting these stories because I believe that stories are important, and because I believe that there are very few books or resources that speak to the Canadian experience.

Putting on my aspiring birthy-baby-author hat, I want to tell you about a local Vancouver event that’s sort of up my alley. It’s BirthFest 2011, presented by the fabulous Birth Lounge collective. The collective got together out of their desire to create a community of care for expectant and new families. There are midwives, childbirth educators, a mama-run cloth diaper shop, mom and baby fitness instructors and more. All the kinds of people who make my hippie mama soul sing.

Their website says:

We’ve all heard that “it takes a village to raise a child,” but how many of us know what our village really has to offer? Local families are invited to discover their village with the wonderful support offered by members of Vancouver’s Birth Lounge.

See? My people, creating a village.

I’ll be dropping by this free community festival, and if you’re local, you might want to check it out, too. Here are the details:

When: Saturday, February 26, 2011 from 11am – 4pm
Where: Britannia Community Centre, Gym D
What: Shopping and services from over 50 vendors and organizations

To community, and babies!

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Born Too Soon

on November 17, 2010 16 Comments

1 in 8 babies is born prematurely. That’s not a small number. And, what’s more, it’s on the rise. According to March of Dimes, preterm birth has risen 30% since 1981. We know some of the causes – like a greater number of multiple births as a result of fertility treatments. But in half the cases, we don’t know why a baby was born prematurely.

One of my babies was born too soon. My daughter Hannah arrived at 34 weeks exactly. I had a healthy pregnancy up until that point. There were no warning signs or indications. Looking back, I can see that I was in early labour the day before, but by that point it likely wouldn’t have made a difference if I’d recognized what was happening. As it was, it all became very clear when my water broke at 4:50am on the day that would be Hannah’s birthday, less than 24 hours after early labour started.

At first, I thought I must have lost bladder control. I wanted to believe I’d lost bladder control. I certainly didn’t want to be having a baby a full month and a half early. But a person can only run upstairs to ‘pee’ so many times in an hour before it becomes clear that it isn’t pee at all.

Hannah was born less than 12 hours later, in a largely uncomplicated birth. She was a healthy 5lbs, 4oz, and she was pink and crying as she came out. Her Apgar scores were 8 and 8. While she struggled with breastfeeding, she fed well from a bottle and breathed well and was very healthy, aside from a little bit of jaundice. She only spent 6 days in the NICU, which is really very short. She did remarkably well for a baby of her gestational age.

Day 3 in Nursary
Visiting 3-day-old Hannah in the NICU

And yet, Hannah’s early start scarred me. They whisked my baby away from me within minutes of her birth. Even during our short NICU stay, we dealt with many, many different doctors and nurses, all of whom seemed to have different opinions and approaches. I suffered my own post-birth complications, and so I wasn’t able to make the trip down to see Hannah more than once or twice a day, for 20 minutes or so at a time. That separation is not something I would have chosen, and it’s something that I still carry with me today. And when I compare Hannah’s beginning to Jacob’s, who was born a couple of days before his due date, I see how much the separation impacted my induction into motherhood.

While I would never wish a preterm birth on anyone, we were very fortunate. They discovered the cause of Hannah’s prematurity when they examined her placenta later – an amniotic fluid infection. The antibiotics they administered in labour protected her and preserved her health. And because it was a random occurrence, I am not likely to have another preterm birth. I certainly didn’t with Jacob. And Hannah was a big, healthy baby. She faced very few struggles, and her risk of future health problems related to prematurity is low.

Other people aren’t so fortunate. Many babies are born much, much sooner than Hannah. Many parents face months in the NICU, and many babies face long-term health difficulties related to their early arrival. And much of the time, no cause is found. But we can change that.

November is March of Dimes’ Prematurity Awareness Month. You can get involved, and help March of Dimes in their fight to find answers to the issue of premature birth. Because I can tell you that no one, no one, wants to see their baby in a NICU isolette, if it can be avoided. As happy I am with advancements in science that help premature infants to survive, the best solution is to address the factors leading to premature birth, and keep babies on the inside until they’re ready to be born.

Have you been touched by premature birth, or has someone you know? If so, please share your story, I’d love to hear it.

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I Love my Socialized Medicine

on November 9, 2010 29 Comments

I live in Canada. Canada has socialized medicine. This is something that I take for granted, because I have always lived here. I have never paid a dime to visit the doctor or the hospital. Which doesn’t mean the experience is always rosy, and that every medical professional I’ve ever encountered was made of sunshine and rainbows. But it does mean that when I make decisions about health care for myself or my children, cost is not a factor that enters into the discussion.

When I decided to have my kids, money was a factor. Babies are expensive, we all know that. They don’t have to be as expensive as some experts say, but you do need to feed them and clothe them. And you need to ensure that they are adequately cared for if you work, or take the financial hit if you decide to leave work. But I didn’t have to consider how I would pay for the birth that I wanted. Or any birth at all.

Recently, I read posts from two American friends that gave me pause. Lauren, who lives in Seattle, weighed her health insurance options as a self-employed person hoping to have a second child. And Gina, pregnant with her third child, discovered that in spite of her research up front, she is likely going to have to pay thousands of dollars to cover her midwife. Even though I love numbers, and love to make financial spreadsheets of my own, their stories left me reeling. I have no idea what I would do in their shoes.

I am not American, so I don’t get a vote on the US health care system. But of course, I have my opinions. I don’t think that anyone should have to choose the kind of care they receive based on finances. I realize that I am a bleeding-heart Canadian liberal, but I honestly believe that health care is a basic human right. I live in a very wealthy country. It would strike me as a great poverty if we did not offer the best start we could to babies, by ensuring their mothers had access to adequate care during pregnancy and birth.

I chose midwifery care for both of my pregnancies, and I chose to give birth in the hospital both times. This was completely covered by our health care system, in the same way it would have been if I’d opted to give birth at home with midwives, or in the hospital with a family doctor or an obstetrician. My choice of care provider was my own, because my finances did not dictate it. When I had to have surgery following my first birth, and I spent 4 days in the hospital recovering, there was no question that we would do it. I needed the care, and it was covered.

I realize that I pay for medical care, both through the tax system and through medical premiums (which are about $60 per month for our family). But I have never seen a bill. And no cost is ever attached to medical care. In the moment, I don’t think about money when I decide whether or not to seek medical care. I am paying for it only indirectly, and I am paying for it whether I take my injured child to the emergency room or not.

I don’t know what the answer is for my American friends. As I said earlier, I am not American, and I don’t get a vote. I realize that there may be significant upsides to the US system that I’m failing to recognize. But as it stands, I am extremely grateful that I live where I do, and have access to public health care. With all its flaws, I wouldn’t trade it.

Have finances ever played a role in your decision to seek health care? If so, do you think that’s reasonable or unreasonable? And if they haven’t, what do you think when you hear about people having to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars to have a baby? I’d like to hear your thoughts.

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Babylust

on October 20, 2010 47 Comments

I’m 34 years old. I’m still pretty young. With any luck, I have more than 50 years of life ahead of me. And yet, I feel certain things slipping away from me as I age. I’ll never make it to the Olympics, or be named to a ‘Top 30 Under 30′ list. When I show up at my local high school to talk to some students about blogging, no one is going to mistake me for one of them. With each passing year, time takes on a different quality. It is no longer something I can afford to waste without a second thought.

I have two children. I love my children very much. and I would love to have more of them. But my husband Jon isn’t so sure. The timing isn’t good for us right now. I understand where he’s coming from. He wants to make a careful, measured decision. He needs to know that we can provide a good life for a baby before we jump into anything. He’s just being responsible.

But remember what I said about not being able to waste time? I feel this most acutely when I think about babies. If we put this off for a few years, because this isn’t a good time, will my window have closed? Will I be prepared to undertake another pregnancy when I’m 37, or 39, or 41? And even if I am, will it work? The odds decline all the time. I’ve read the articles. And what’s more, my body is telling me this, loud and clear.

If there was ever any doubt I had a biological clock, my age has put it to rest. I hear that clock ticking all the time. My 2-year-old does something cute? I want another baby. I talk to a new mom about breastfeeding? I want another baby. I lose my car keys? I want another baby.

Me, my kids and my nephew
My nephew plays surrogate 3rd child – it looks good, right?

This babylust is not rational. It’s not like I’ve weighed all the pros and cons and decided that having a baby would be the logical decision. No, the babylust is much more primal. I want another baby in the way that I want a sandwich when I’m hungry. I just … want it. And any rational arguments don’t really sway my longing.

My kids aren’t any help, either. My sister’s son is now 3 months old. He’s a very happy, healthy little guy. And Hannah and Jacob fall all over themselves in his presence. They pat his head and clamour to hold him and make all kinds of declarations about his sweetness and smallness and cuteness. Looking at them, I can see how another child would fit into our family. I like the picture.

I tell myself that if I had another baby, I would be done. I would gracefully move on to the next chapter of my life. But I’m not really sure that’s true. I look at people like the Duggars, who have 19 children and said they would gladly welcome a 20th. Michelle is a full 10 years older than I am. Perhaps I will always feel like I want another baby. And if that’s the case, then I can’t rely on my babylust to guide my decision.

For now, no babies are on the horizon. I continue to hope that will change. But until it does, if you see me looking wistful at the bank one day, it’s just that I realized I forgot my bank card. And I want another baby.

Is your family complete? How did you make that decision? And were you and your partner on the same page? I’d love to hear!

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Mothering, Choices and Consequences

on October 12, 2010 44 Comments

We subscribe to the Sunday New York Times, and we love it. After reading it I feel all worldly and informed and stuff. The Ethicist, in particular, floats my boat. But last week, I read an article from Nicholas D. Kristof that irked me. Called “At Risk From the Womb”, it explored how factors such as exposure to stress, disease and toxins may affect fetal development. For example, it cites a study that found children who were in utero during the Arab-Israeli Six-Day War of 1967 were more likely to be diagnosed with schizophrenia as adults. And here is a quote about the perils of eating junk food:

British scientists … fed pregnant rats junk food: doughnuts, marshmallows, potato chips and chocolate chip muffins. The offspring of those rats turned out to have a sweet tooth as well: they were more likely to choose junk food when it was offered and ended up 25 percent fatter than rats whose mothers were fed regular rodent chow.

32 week bellyKristof raises some good points in the article. I nodded my head when he suggested that studies like these should cause us to examine the chemicals we are exposed to in our daily lives. Certainly, if there are factors that we can control that will help ensure that our babies are healthy, we should try to control them. But many of these factors – like being pregnant during a time of war or famine – are outside of our control. And other factors – like what pregnant women eat – veer towards policing the actions of other adults in a way that I find inappropriate.

I have been pregnant twice. Both times I planned my pregnancies, and very much wanted my babies. I felt that there were some responsibilities that came with being pregnant. For instance, I chose to abstain from alcohol while I was pregnant, and I made my husband change the kitty litter. I realized that anything that I exposed myself to, I was also exposing my babies to, and I did my best to avoid potential risks where I could.

But there is a critical line to be drawn here. When I chose to pass up my beloved tuna sushi, that was my call. When someone else gave me the stink eye for drinking a can of Coke, that was another thing altogether. I was seriously nauseous throughout both of my pregnancies. I realized early on that I could either eat what I was craving, or I could puke. The very idea of leafy green vegetables? Highly unappetizing. I couldn’t even bring myself to go to the farmer’s market, knowing that there would be piles of veggies there. So instead of eating my spinach like a good pregnant lady, I ate a lot of white bread and french fries. And I didn’t even feel all that bad about it.

Pregnant women are still people. They deserve the same basic autonomy and the freedom to make choices for themselves that everyone else does. Whether they get the flu shot or not, whether they should be eating those Doritos or not, whether they exercise are not – these things are nobody else’s business.

Our first baby picture, at 8 weeks

As I became highly indignant reading about how my consumption of french fries probably doomed my children, I started to think about the way that many mothers react to studies about the dangers of formula feeding. I see definite parallels. In both cases, women are doing the best they can for themselves and their babies. In both cases, there are a lot of complicating factors that muddy the decision-making process. As I puked out of my car door yet again, I decided to give up on my prenatal vitamin. Should I have persisted in taking it anyway? Maybe. Do I think that I made the best choice I could under the circumstances? Yes. Do I appreciate someone else weighing in on my shortcomings? No way.

I can see a lot of value in studying how our actions affect our babies. These studies arm us with information and help us make the best choices we can. But sometimes, even with that information, we fall short. And when we do, and someone tells us yet again how we failed our child, it’s hard not to take that a little personally. Even though it’s not really about us at all.

Ultrasound at 18.5 weeks

I think that sometimes we need to give people space to feel indignant and affronted when their parenting choices are called into question. And we need to try to have the grace to let go when we read scientific studies that highlight our failures. After all, there area a whole lot of factors that go into raising a child. It’s unlikely that any one action is going to doom your child forever. As long as we are generally well-meaning and thoughtful parents, that has to be enough. In any case, it’s all that we can really do.

In the meantime, you can pry my french fries from my cold, dead hands.

How do you react when a study suggests that you have in some way harmed your child? Do you think that such studies are helpful or harmful? And how can we share information with people, without casting blame for actions that are long over? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

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Share Your Story, Feed My Dream

on August 11, 2010 27 Comments

I have been sharing my dream of writing a book with you all here. In case you haven’t been following along, here is a summary of my book idea:

  • Talk to parents with diverse backgrounds and experiences from all across Canada.
  • Collect their stories surrounding the time that they welcomed their first child.
  • Talk about things like pregnancy, childbirth, hospitals, doctors, midwives, doulas, baby care, living with a newborn, breastfeeding, crying, maternity leave, grandparents …
  • Compile the stories into some kind of order, and include some stories of my own, as well as some information about pregnancy, birth and babies in Canada.
  • Create a book that feels like sitting around a kitchen table and sharing stories.

I want the book to have a Canadian focus, because there are so few books that do. My vision is that it would let other parents hear first-hand accounts of what this time is really like, from people who have walked the path before. It would also let us know that we’re not alone, that so many of us have wrestled with the same issues. And it would provide some illumination into what we’re doing well and what we’re doing not so well as we try to support parents through a big life change.

I feel pretty passionate about this idea. But I can’t do it alone. That’s where you come in. Would you be willing to share your story with me? If you welcomed your first child while you were living in Canada, I’d love to hear from you. I’m looking for adoptive parents as well as birth parents, and parents of multiples as well as parents of singletons. And I hope to hear from people from all different backgrounds. It doesn’t matter how old that first baby is now, as long as you can share your story accurately.

If you want to take part, and you’re willing to let me publish your story, visit my ‘Share Your Story‘ page and fill out the form. It will magically populate my spreadsheet, and I will be in touch with you to talk about your story further. Don’t be discouraged if it takes me a while – I expect this to be a long process.

I have to admit – I’m feeling pretty nervous posting this. It feels like a big step down the path of I’m actually doing this. There’s a big possibility that this won’t work out at all. But here’s what I know for sure – it definitely won’t work out if I retreat to my bed and eat ice cream all day, which I kind of feel like doing right now. So I’m going to ignore the fears and take a leap of faith. I think it might just pay off.

Jump 3
Leaping! – credit to Stephanie Wallace Photography on Flickr

Edited: I understand there was a problem with the form earlier, but it should be working now, as of 8:45am Pacific / 11:45 Eastern.

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The Gourmet Pregnancy

on May 22, 2010 20 Comments

I recently received a copy of The Gourmet Pregnancy by Leah Douglas, an author who just happens to live in my own backyard. It was given to me for free, for the purpose of writing a review on this blog. And while I’m feeling all disclose-y, I will also say that if you click on the Amazon links and purchase the book, I will earn a small commission. Also, while I am reviewing a pregnancy cookbook, I am not, in fact, pregnant. Not even a little bit. Transparency achieved? Good.

I must confess that initially, I found the idea of a pregnancy cookbook a little … odd. After all, the time that you spend pregnant is really pretty short in the grand scheme of things, unless you happen to be Michelle Duggar. I’m not sure that I, personally, would buy a book that’s targeted so specifically to cooking while you’re pregnant. Especially because I get pretty sick when I’m pregnant. It’s one time in my life when thinking about food and looking at pictures of food is completely unappealing to me. I actually had to leave a restaurant once during my 2nd pregnancy because people had the audacity to eat right in front of me. The nerve!

The Gourmet Pregnancy
My kids decorated the cover – they’re so thoughtful that way

My opinion changed a little when I got my hands on a copy. The book opens with a comprehensive listing of what foods an expectant mother should avoid, and what foods she can consume in moderation. It advocates for enjoying food, and it manages to avoid an alarmist tone. The recipes themselves are varied, and they’re more about eating what you like, and less about ensuring you get your daily recommended allowance of folate. I’d sum up the book’s feel as: “Food can still be fun when you’re pregnant, even though your approach changes.” It came across to me as a gorgeous resource, that manages to avoid finger-wagging about fish consumption.

I am only one woman, though, so I decided to get some more opinions. Luckily, I just happen to have a pregnant sister. Gretchen is expecting her first child, a boy, in early July, and last weekend she had her baby shower. I prepared some recipes from the book and brought them along. I made tempura dill pickles with sambal oelek dip, fresh tomato, basil and bocconcini skewers with lemon olive oil, chocolate raspberry fudge and fresh mango strawberry lemonade. The quality of my photos isn’t very good, because the light was low, but here they are:

Tempura dill picklesSkewers

Tempura dill pickles (L) and skewers (R)

Fudgey deliciousnessMocktail-as-punch

Chocolate raspberry fudge (L) and mango strawberry lemonade (R)

What I loved about the book was that every recipe had a beautiful accompanying photo. I liked the way the book was broken up into sections, and had a wide variety of food choices. I also appreciated that the instructions were simple and straightforward, at least the ones I tried. The skewers were especially fun, because my 5-year-old was able to help. I can see a lot of skewers in our future. On the whole, the food was fancy, but not fussy to make. Which is a bonus, because what pregnant lady wants to spend 2 hours on her feet making dinner?

What I didn’t love as much was that almost every recipe called for ingredients I didn’t already have on hand. I suppose that’s going to be true of most gourmet recipes, though, since my pantry runs more towards cheddar, apple slices and ketchup than bocconcini, fresh lemons and sambal oelek. On the upside, I did discover that my local suburban grocery store stocks sambal oelek, so that was fun.

Tempura dill pickle recipe
Tempura dill pickle recipe

I thought the recipes I tried were delicious, and I went back for more. I especially thought the tempura pickles were fun. Gretchen said that she enjoyed all of the food, too, so it has an actual pregnant lady’s stamp of approval. As for the other shower guests – most everyone liked the the mango strawberry lemonade, and the skewers were also a hit. The pickles were hot and cold – folks either loved them or hated them. And the fudge? Well, it was fudge. I had to cut my 5-year-old off at 2 pieces, and then I had to peel her off the ceiling.

Pregnant GretchenAs for the book, Gretchen was a fan. She is much cooler than I am. In fact, she always has been, not that I’m bitter or anything. She and her husband live downtown, and they eat out and entertain a lot. She thinks that she would actually use a book like this, in order to make food that she really enjoys for herself and for others. She also thinks that many pregnant women aren’t very well-informed about what they should and shouldn’t eat, so having a fun resource is helpful. Plus, she managed to escape pregnancy without any nausea, so food is maybe less scary for her than it was for me.

If you are a pregnant foodie, or you are a foodie cooking for a pregnant lady, then The Gourmet Pregnancy may be a good book for you. It’s certainly gorgeous to look at, if you enjoy poring over recipe books. I passed my copy along to Gretchen, and she’s loving it. She said that she would absolutely buy it as a gift for a pregnant friend. As for me, I bought some more tempura mix and I plan to try the pickles again. They don’t seem to be everyone’s thing, but they’re a hit with me. Pickles are good, man!

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Making Peace

on April 6, 2010 30 Comments

I live in early motherhood. I don’t know when the last time was that I slept through the night, or visited the washroom on my own. There are Cheerios scattered on my kitchen floor and stickers in random spots on my walls. Things that I never would have imagined doing before I had children are now second nature to me – smelling a baby’s bottom to see if it’s dirty, breastfeeding my toddler while he sits on the potty, making 3 different lunches for 2 different children.

My daughter Hannah is just over 5, and my son Jacob is nearing 20 months. Between the two of them I have been continuously pregnant or breastfeeding since July, 2004. That’s almost 6 years. In many ways, my body has not been my own. During pregnancy, I very literally shared space with my babies, and after they were born that didn’t change much. They still wanted me, they still needed me, and I did my best to be there for them.

I have deeply ambivalent feelings about this loss of control over my physical self. On the one hand, I am very grateful to have had this experience of birthing and breastfeeding my children. It is an amazing gift. They are amazing gifts. On the other hand, it hasn’t all been super-fun. I didn’t enjoy pregnancy much, between the nausea and the extreme emotions and the constant nosebleeds I got. I don’t really like its physical aftermath, either. And sometimes I really just want some time and space to myself, which isn’t always possible when you have these two little people underfoot.

My body hasn’t always worked with me on this childbearing journey, either. Hannah was born at 34 weeks, when I was suddenly thrown into labour because of an amniotic fluid infection. Following her birth, I hemorrhaged severely and required surgery and a blood transfusion. Breastfeeding was a challenge with a premature baby, and I was unable to pump enough milk while she was in the NICU. My earliest days of parenting felt like one massive betrayal on the part of my body. It was as if it could get nothing right.

Things went better the second time around. I delivered a few days before my due date, in an uneventful birth. Breastfeeding went well right from the beginning. But I didn’t bounce back as quickly after Jacob’s birth. In fact, I’m not sure I ever really will. I am older, he was bigger, and when everything’s stretched out like that it doesn’t always unstretch so well.

All the same, I am finally beginning to reclaim myself. Jacob is old enough that he’s fine when I take more time away from him. So I do. I have signed up for my first yoga class in 5 years. I am getting out to meet up with friends or to speak without my little shadow. I like the freedom, even as I lament the fact that my baby’s growing, or that I may never wear those pants again. Always, the ambivalence.

I am learning the reality of my body following its nurturing years. It is older, it is larger, and it is not quite the same shape. It likely never will be. I am not always happy about that, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. My children are worth the physical toll that they took. And so I am slowly making my peace. I am learning to embrace myself as I am now, Amber the mother of small children. I am no longer the person I was, and my body shows it. And that’s as it should be. It is OK. I am OK. Mostly.

What about you? Are you able to embrace your post-baby self, or is it a struggle for you? How has your maternal physique changed your view of yourself? I’d love to hear all about it.

The inspiration for this post came from the Body Image Carnival hosted by the super-cool Melodie at Breastfeeding Moms Unite and Maman a Droit. I can’t wait to read all the other posts the week of April 12-18. I hear there will also be product reviews, a giveaway and links to research and resources pertaining to body image, so make sure to drop by and check it out!

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No Time to Be Sick

on November 23, 2009 20 Comments

Since I became a mom, I just don’t get as sick as I used to. Oh, sure, I come down with the occasional bug of one kind or another, but it doesn’t seem to hit me that hard. Or, at least, not hard enough that it really stops me from doing much. I sometimes feel it’s totally unfair, in fact. When my husband is sick he sleeps in or takes naps. When I am sick I still get up with the kids and go about my daily routine. The kids need me whether I’m well or not – I can’t just pass off mothering to someone else while I convalesce.

To be fair to Jon, he does try to relieve me. But in my experience there is no way that two small children are going to happily play in some other part of the house while Mama sleeps. The wailing and the little fists pounding on the door soon cause me to give up any attempt to rest. And I don’t think I’m the only mother who just keeps right on going in the midst of whatever virus is infecting the household. When Jon and I were kids we didn’t really see our mothers get sick, either. Our dads would spend days in bed with one thing or another, but our moms pressed on. Because, you know, what choice did they have?

Amber and the kids, November
Who has time to be sick when they have little kids?

But even leaving aside gender issues and family work distribution, there’s something else that I’ve experienced. For more than 5 years now I’ve been either pregnant or breastfeeding continuously. And in that time, I’ve been healthier than at any other time in my life. I don’t get headaches like I used to, and aside from morning sickness I’m not prone to nausea or stomach ailments. It’s almost like my immune system has kicked it up a notch, whether for some actual physiological reason or because it just plain has to.

I’ve heard other people report that while they’re pregnant and breastfeeding they experience a change in chronic conditions. For example, women I know who have irritable bowel syndrome say that they don’t have any symptoms when they’re pregnant or nursing. And other people find that allergies arise or clear up when they go through pregnancy. The whole experience seems to do a number on our immune systems, and it can be good or bad.

Storytime
Storytime with Daddy, something that Jon never misses even when he’s sick

I tried to do some research, and see if I’m the only one who’s experienced this lack of downtime. I wanted to know if it was in fact related to pregnancy and breastfeeding, or just a reality of motherhood. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find anything that was really relevant.

So, I thought that I would ask you, since many of you are mothers as well. Did you find that pregnancy and breastfeeding affected your immune system? Or was it just motherhood and the demands that it placed on you? And was the effect good, bad, or indifferent? I’m curious, now that I’ve been thinking about it.

PS – I wrote this post on Friday, and scheduled it for Monday. And then I promptly came down with yet another cold. Let this be a lesson to you – do not brag about how healthy you are. ;)

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Truth in a Pregnancy Test

on April 4, 2009 15 Comments

I’ve taken a few (dozen) pregnancy tests in my time. The first one was back in 2004, when we decided it was time to start a family. I churned through a good half dozen before I got my first positive result, as it turns out I am sort of compulsive in this area. Days before I should I’m up in the early morning hours analyzing shadows to see if there’s something there. I am a compulsive planner, and I just need to know the skinny. Right. Now.

And then, when I’m actually pregnant, I continue to take tests. During those early days when there are very few signs, or at least very few signs that couldn’t be written off as a particularly tenacious stomach flu, I keep second-guessing the results. What if I read it wrong? What if something’s gone wrong and I’m not actually pregnant anymore? So I head back to the drugstore and get more tests and store the positive test sticks in a drawer in my bathroom so I can check them when I’m feeling nervous.

I take pregnancy tests when I don’t want to be pregnant, too. When there’s no chance whatsoever I could be. As I shared a few months back I have an irrational fear of being pregnant and not knowing it. Until one day I get a jab in the ribs I can’t ignore and I discover I’m 6 months along. And then what? The midwives would be booked solid, and my work would be irritated with me for not telling them sooner, and I would have to pull everything together on a tight timeline. I like notice, people, and if that means I’m taking pregnancy tests to calm my fears, so be it!

I never claimed to be anything short of neurotic. Although I do like to think my neuroses are sort of delightful and quirky. “Amber? She’s the girl who takes 14 pregnancy tests just for fun. Gotta love her!”

There’s something that I’ve discovered over the course of my pregnancy test-taking career. And that is that during the two minutes (give or take) that you’re waiting for your results, your true feelings come into stark relief. You are faced with reality, and that brings a clarity about whether or not you really want to be pregnant right now. I’ve had it go both ways. I’ve thought that it wasn’t time for another baby, only to realize I was really rooting for a positive result. And I’ve also been in the position of thinking another baby would be delightful, only to realize that really, I’m not quite ready.

The extremely fortunate thing is that both times I was actually pregnant were times that I wanted to be, rather badly. I haven’t yet faced an unwanted, or even unexpected, pregnancy. My disappointment, when it’s happened, has always been to discover that this wasn’t the month for me.

Now that we have two children we are wrestling with the question of whether or not we want more. For right now I have an IUD (which is fabulous, by the way). It gives us a few years to weigh our options before taking more permanent measures. At the moment we’re debating back and forth a little, I think I want another baby. The idea that this could be it, that I might never watch another baby learn to crawl or walk or try solid food makes me kind of sad. Babies are magical in a poopy, screamy sort of way, and I don’t know if I’m ready to close up shop. Jon, on the other hand, is currently more than satisfied with the two children we have.

So yesterday, when I had been feeling sick and tired for weeks, I thought there might be more to it. And some part of me wanted there to be. To have this decision taken out of my hands. So I took a pregnancy test and waited for the results. To my surprise, during that time I was terrified. I discovered, without a shadow of a doubt, that I wanted it to be negative, at least for now. And it was.

I discovered my truth in a pregnancy test. I don’t want another baby right now (or even 9 months from now). Who knows how I will feel in another year? Things change. But for the time being I think two is more than enough.

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