me, myself, and I

This morning, as I was crawling back into bed at 4 am after nursing baby E, I felt a sharp pain in the middle of my chest. I lay still and prayed that it would go away, that it was a muscle spasm brought on by anxiety and/or a strange position during the most recent nursing session. I willed it away because I’m only 42 and can’t imagine not being around for my baby and preschooler. I begged and pleaded with God to keep me safe and alive and healthy.

It seems to have gone away and I think it must have been a muscle spasm. While laying there, I renewed my commitment to making a doctor’s appointment for a check up. I’ve been between doctors for about two years now—my old, favorite, primary care doctor is in the city and I have no time to get there these days (and I have yet to find a new, hopefully wonderful, doctor in the ‘burbs near us).

It’s part of a theme I’m pursuing these days in which I am committed to taking care of myself in as many ways as possible. I went running on Sunday with our new (to us—thank you Craigs.list) double jogging stroller. I’m not buying mass produced cookies and am instead indulging my cravings for dessert with one or two squares of dark chocolate. I’m turning off the TV to read whenever possible. I’m trying to look at myself in the mirror with kindness, the way I would look at someone I love and respect. I’m considering getting off the diet-coke-train that I’m on. (Hey, I know I should just get off right now, but I have an incredibly addictive personality and I can’t imagine giving up my 20 oz of the bitter drink every morning. I’ll get there eventually.)

This—my commitment to myself—may be the biggest and most important commitment in my world. Yes, my relationship with my husband is an important commitment. And of course, my commitment to care for my kids is vitally important—they’re my heart and soul living and breathing outside of my own body. I cherish these family commitments with everything I have and am. But all of these other commitments fall apart if I don’t keep a strong and centered commitment to myself. If I don’t care for myself, I’m not caring for anyone. I remember this, oh, some of the time, and my goal is to simply remember it and practice it even more often. It’s not selfish to care for yourself so that you can care for others. In fact, I wish more people practiced it (Mom, even though you don’t know this blog exists, I’m looking at you, here!).

I think I’ve found a doctor—a small practice connected to a bigger practice in my little suburban town. I’m going to call today and make an appointment, and I’ll definitely mention the muscle spasm and the other various and sundry physical complaints of middle age that I’m experiencing. I'm really enjoying this life, these days, and have no intention of compromising it any longer by not caring for myself.

What are you doing to care for yourself today? How are you keeping your commitments?

up to date

I cannot believe it's been so long since I last wrote. What a bummer.

Maybe a brief list of items would be reasonable here, just to catch up quickly?

Item One. The semester is ending and I will really miss my current students. The theme of the course is graphic novels, and they've risen to every challenge except one, in which I tried to introduce them to the amazing comics of Charles Burns and most of them had the following reaction: "Ick. This book scared me." It is a kind of horror comic, though I cannot stand true horror, so it's really not that scary and it's more freaky and beautiful. I will miss them, though--they were talkative and smart and (mostly) interesting. I love when I can say this kind of thing at the end of a semester.

Item Two. I have been meaning to comment on a powerful post by Esperanza a few weeks ago in which she discusses how hard it is to be off meds while TTC. I have now commented but thought it deserved a mention here, too, because it's just such a great post. In fact, her recent series of honest and raw posts have been so moving I've found myself in tears. They're bringing back feelings I thought I had successfully buried. Surprise! Not so much. Anyway, the comment I want to make out loud here is that I, too, take meds for adult ADD and I'm currently off them because I'm still breastfeeding. I've been off them since January of 2009. I miss them every single day. Without them, I'm tired, often cranky, scatterbrained, and incredibly prone to procrastination. If I'm fair, though, I'm still a procrastinator and a bit scatterbrained even ON the meds, but less so. If you've ever wondered what life for someone who takes/needs meds for ADD is like without them, read her post.

I struggle with the "need" aspect of them the same way she does because it really seems like I "should" be able to motivate myself better/smarter/more successfully without medical help. I berate myself for not being "good enough" to live life without them. And the fact that they help with weight loss and maintenance makes it all worse because it seems like I'm making an excuse for taking them through my scatterbrainedness, even though I don't really think (in my calmer, more rational moments) that's the case. Whatever. I am coming out as a person who takes meds and needs them and who knows that there's no shame in getting the help you need.

Item Three. E is sitting on her own these days, only occasionally toppling over when she reaches over to grab a toy. When the hell did she get so big and strong?

Item Four. Reflux, the old devil, is back in my life yet again. I described E's symptoms to her doctor a few weeks ago and sure enough, she said we might benefit from meds. So we're in the middle of trying a second level medication for it, prev.acid. W was on it until 18 months and it remains to be seen how E does. She's taking it in suspension rather than in solutab (W was on solutabs) and there is controversy over whether the suspension method works as well as it's supposed to. Solutabs are apparently in shortage at the moment, so we can't switch over (yet).

Item Five. I generally dislike poetry. But I've had the hankering to start writing poetry lately. Strange. It's like poems keep popping into my head. I haven't written any down yet because I assume I really cannot write these poems (because I'm not a poet or a real writer--I teach because I cannot do). I know that makes no sense. So I'm going to start writing poetry one of these days. What an odd midlife thing to do. It might be because I'm hanging around poets IRL these days and they're on my FB page a lot, writing snippets and posting cool poetry links. Maybe I'm just going through some version of high school envy? Poets are cool and therefore I should become a poet (much like in high school when guess jeans were cool and I was poor, so I worked 20 hours a week at my part time job to buy myself guess jeans?). I'll keep you posted on whether this poetry thing manifests itself.

Item Six. A friend is going through last chance IVF in June and my heart is in my throat for her. Think good thoughts in early June for her. She's 46 and this is almost certainly her last chance.

Item Seven. I have a post brewing about a conversation I had with a graduate student I'm mentoring. She's 32 and asked me whether I thought it was important to have children before establishing her career or not. I'll let you know what I said (spoiler alert: if you want children badly, put off your career; if you are on the fence, live your life and check in about it again every 6 months until you make a true decision).

breastfeeding (a PAIL theme post)

In the 1970s, my mother was a La Lec.he Lea.gue group leader. I remember, as a child, sitting on the floor with other kids whose moms were similarly passionate about breastfeeding. We sat though so many damn meetings. She was hardcore about breastfeeding, too. Apparently, she not only allowed me and my brother to nurse LONG past the time when we could ask for it, she also allowed a close friend who had a child around my same age to feed me if my Mom had run to the store or was otherwise busy. I assume she fed her friend's child in the same manner. WTF. Feeding another woman's baby, just because you can, strikes me as odd. And breastfeeding a preschooler just isn't for me. I have nothing against it, per se, but I think there are many interesting foods out there beyond breastfeeding by the preschool years that are/should be more nourishing than breastmilk. (Yeah, yeah...I know it's the perfect food and all...I'm just sayin'.)

All that said, I'm a pretty passionate breastfeeder. I have been committed to it with both kids. I breastfed W, my two year old, until he chose to quit at almost a year old. I was getting ready to quit it if he hadn't, but even so, I felt a bit disappointed when he refused the breast the first time. And now, with baby #2, my 6 month old, we're still breastfeeding well. It's a very different experience the second time around. My son would nurse constantly, even when not hungry. He got the comfort-nursing thing. E, the baby girl, is more interested in breastfeeding for food. She is much quicker to reject it if she's not hungry.

I fought hard to be able to breastfeed. In both cases, my kids started life with a few days back in the hospital drinking formula from bottles. I pumped and pumped to get my supply going (I'm a late starter...my milk doesn't tend to come in until at least a week after birth). And I tried finger feeding and other measures to keep them both from loving the bottle and refusing the breast. I'm very lucky that it all worked--it was just as likely as not to have failed.

I'm also a very poor pumper, and I'm not sure if it's just that I'm not doing it well (I sometimes forget when I'm at work) or if I'm just a low producer. Perhaps both are true. So when E is at daycare, she gets one bottle of breastmilk and at least one of formula. To me, formula is a total blessing. It allows my child to eat while I'm away from her and it takes some of the pumping pressure off of me. And for so many people, formula is the only option and I really hate when someone looks down on that choice or situation. A good lactation consultant will say that the first thing all mothers should do is feed their child, whether it be breastmilk or formula.

When I meet a pregnant woman and she asks me about my breastfeeding experience (it does happen!), I almost always tell her how difficult it is going to be. It's painful for the first few week and worrying about whether your child is getting enough food will drive you nuts, but if you can get it all to work, it's wonderful. And if you can't get it to work and you don't breastfeed, either by choice or by situation, it's also wonderful. Feed your child and don't worry too much about how.

update on W talking at school

This is a follow-up to my last post.

After we got home from the strange discovery that W is not speaking much at daycare, we had a brief talk about it at the dinner table. I told W that it's totally fine if he chooses not to talk at daycare (or anywhere, for that matter). I said that I respected him and want him to take his time doing new things if he so chooses. But I also said that it might be nice to talk at daycare a little bit more than he does now. He might enjoy participating in circle time or story time. W didn't really respond. I didn't expect him to. But I figured it couldn't hurt to briefly address the situation with him.

Well, when I picked him up yesterday, the teacher said, "W has been talking all day! He shouted out animals and colors during story time with the other kids!" and the note on his daily report said that he was chatty and seemed to have fun all day.

Is it possible that my toddler understood our dinner conversation and changed his behavior as a result? Fascinating!

he's okay, i'm okay

Yesterday, my husband and I were picking the kids up from daycare and one of the teachers asked us if W is talking at all at home. "Huh?" I said to myself? You  mean my chatty little toddler is not chatting well at daycare? And they explained that they rarely hear him speak at all, not to teachers or students. I assured them up and down that W is chatty, that he talks in short sentences, and that I hear new words almost every day, many of which he's learning at daycare and which I'm taking as a good sign that daycare is a fine place for him to be. It's all true--he is chatty. He does talk a lot. And he's still mimicking us and then using those new words in sentences of his own design.

I've been mulling it all over, though, and am concerned. I don't particularly like his current teacher, and I have a sense (rightly or wrongly, I'm not sure) that she's the kind of teacher--a very common kind, I might add--who tends to reward louder or more demanding kids. What I mean is that there are studies to show that kids who act out or who are loud and boisterous tend to get more face-time and attention from teachers because they demand it. My kid, however, is shaping up to be more like I was as a child: sensitive, able to go along with the flow, shy, and not necessarily demanding anything from anyone. I hated teachers who put me on the spot (as this teacher does in "circle time") or who repeatedly asked me questions when I just wasn't in the mood to talk.

I have a feeling that W would be far happier at a montessori or montessori-like school, but there aren't any nearby or convenient. The closest one that I've heard rave reviews of would add 45 minutes to an hour to my already long (45 minute) commute to and from work. Impossible.

So do I leave my kid where he is and hope for the best? Do I assume that he'll start adapting to this environment, or that his current adaptation will just work okay? He doesn't seem worse for the wear. He's usually smiling when I pick him up from daycare. And while he's not smiling when I drop him off, the other kids aren't either.

As I think it through, I'm also reflecting on what I would have wanted as a child. I went to a montessori preschool for about six months when I was four or so and I remember loving it. It was one of the few childhood school environments I think fondly of; the rest all blur together in a haze of dodgeball, disappointment in my peers' reading levels, and general boredom. In the end, I wasn't the worse for the wear, either. I have a Ph.D., for crying out loud, so I found a love of learning and school despite those bad early experiences. I imagine that happened in large part because of my mother, who guided me toward a love of books from day one (as I will guide my kids to do as well). The shyness did suck during high school and college--hell, it still sucks today--but this might just be who I am.

Our kids are little reflections of ourselves. They show us who we are today, who we were, and who we wish we were and are. They're more than reflections of course--they are their own full people and I don't mean to suggest that they only exist for me to understand myself. But it seems clear today that part of parenting is self-reflection, as painful and awkward as it is.

I have no clear answers about what I'll do. I suspect we'll keep him where he is and see what happens next. If he doesn't start feeling comfortable enough to speak at daycare, perhaps we'll revisit.

By the way, I owe you all a quick update on the post-partum anxiety front: the anxiety is slowly going away! It's not completely gone and I still catch myself doing the ocd behaviors around bedtime and nursing at night, but they're quieter and less intrusive. The anxiety is not crushing or panicky. I think the post-partum hormones must be easing off and I'm returning to my normal levels. Life is feeling more relaxing by the day. Good news, right?

PAIL

Elphaba had a great idea: to create a blogroll for people who are parenting after infertility and/or loss (PAIL, for short). It's true, I think, that those of us on this blogroll may be different than other parents, and it's exciting to think we might have a place, together. I don't think of myself as part of the world of infertility and loss anymore and I certainly don't identify as a mommy blogger. In fact, I recoil from many mommy blogs, and I can't quite put my finger on why, though perhaps my identify as a member of PAIL is a big clue, huh?

Anyway, I invite you to head over and check it out!

Susan

Susan Niebur, of Toddler Planet, has died. As a longtime reader, I'm incredibly sad and am holding her family in my heart with lots of love. As a tribute to Susan, please also read her very important explanation of inflammatory breast cancer.