The day the surgical dream died: as I write this, all my stickies are filled with lists of family friendly Vasc surgery programs, names of female surgeons who have kids, the "to-do" lists I need to complete for a surgical residency. My 4th schedule is set all around the perfect Vasc Surgery experience: an IAI in Madison, 2w in Marshfield w Dr. Weiss, AAI in MQA in surgery, cardiovascular, radiology..all rotations meant to just nail a surgical residency application, interview, and match.

But today I decided that maybe my life (and my family's life) will not be about my career...after so much sacrifice and focus on it to this point, it seems a weird place to make space in my future life for things outside of medicine. But I think thats a healthy switch. I think I would have turned into an even more uptight, overly focused, super serious, rigid perfectionist. Those traits are there within me just waiting to get cultured and fed. The traits of spontaneous fun and relaxedness, and altruism and outside focus are there too also just waiting to get fed. I feel like picking EM gives room for those traits to be nurtured, for me to have time to focus on outside hobbies and on my family, gives us room for the dreams we have to be more easy to expand on (like more babies, more travel, more creativity, more fun). It is a hard switch. I sometimes don't feel like my personality fits EM, they sometimes feel like a group tahts a little too lax, tries to have a little too much fun, takes a few too many chances. Sometimes I like order, i like answers and resolution, I like predictability. But I know from experience that I can thrive in an ED too, that I sometimes revel in the adrenaline rush and quick making of deep relationships, trying to make order form chaos. Maybe its a good thin to get back to those things than the cold austere personality of the OR. It is a difficult choice to let the dream die. I really love the OR, I loved the idea of being a badass surgical mom. But you know what I love even more, the idea of not being on call, the idea of being able to put my kids and husband first, the idea of having boring days off of work where i need to find things to keep me busy. Being a doctor on the side on not having it be the forefront of my identity. Being able to have another baby in residency without such fear that that idea provoked when I transposed it against a surgical residency. Being done in THREE years and getting to reclaim those extra years from my kids and husbands lives..the kids and husband who have so patiently gone through this journey thus far. Be done 2 years earlier, 2 less years of memory of this experience for our kids..and only the memories of a mommy home and available, able to get to PTA meetings and stay home for sick day snuggles. Yes, maybe this isn't that hard of a choice, maybe a future where I can nurture my kids until they fly the nest then nurture our ideals of adventure with Kyle without always having that worklife like a chain around my neck. Maybe I can always remember fondly that I could have probably been an awesome surgery but I walked away from that temptress, that affair, that siren call and we all lived so much happily after. That is maybe what I pick today. Maybe today is the best day of our lives.

Depressed

I don't really know if its depression but I think it is. I have lashed out (in a pretty minor way) at my darling husband, a man I have literally never said a bad word to in the 10yrs we've  known each other.  I cry when I read something sad. I have to stop going on FB because I'm now part of some physician mothers group and the constant stream of stories of not being able to have the life they want, having to miss out on really important family events/moments, not being able to control one's life, always being judged/on a pedestal, always being witness to some of the greater horrors that can occur in our society (child abuse, death, life-altering diagnoses) and all without a lot of support.  You are the captain at the helm, you can't show weakness, you are the leader and the buck stops with you.  As a medical student it seems even worse.  I am at the mercy of the attendings and residents I am working with.  If they need to pee, drink, eat, have a moment they send me off to do something or put me with another person to continue on working.  I hardly ever know where the bathroom is, my food/drink are always too far to access.  I never know if I'm going to get a break in 10mins or 10hrs.  I have to learn to meet the expectations of all of these individuals within the first day I meet them and I work with new people every couple days or weeks.  I am expected to know a million details about every specialists' area of medicine.  I am expected to always know everything about each patient on the service.  I am expected to additionally be studying for shelves and OSCEs.  On top of it, I'm a mother and a wife.  I have the expectation to be a great mother, a great wife, try to do some cleaning, be in a good mood, put up with hardly ever sleep, rarely get a minute to myself, most definitely don't get to do any self-care.  And you know what, when I write it all out, its actually astounding that things have been going so well.  But I have a lot of anxiety and stress that I'll ruin my marriage before I'm done with this.  I have a lot of anxiety and stress that I don't keep my mood positive enough, am not patient enough, or have enough time to engage with my beautiful two daughters.  And on top of that all, there isn't really a light at the end of the tunnel.  Residency is just another 3-5yrs of not being in control of my life.  Maybe its a little better because I will be able to pee when I want, get food and drink on my own volition but I will then actually be responsible for the care of my patients in a very real way and be responsible when things don't go well.  I won't be able to take short cuts or skip studying some nights because it would mean the difference between caring for a patient well or not.  I think another source of anxiety is deciding what I want to be...its like I am at the fork and how can I measure the amount of stress that will be involved in any of the specialities?  WIll the stress actually be different depending on which specialty I go into?  If I pick what seems like an "easier" one, will I just be depressed because I don't love what I'm doing?  Or will I be more depressed when I am gone more or have a more stressful job and continue to neglect both my own well-being and that of my family?  And can I add more to the "reasons to be depressed"  list?  I really would like to have another child or two; my family is very important to me and the joy I get out hanging out with my family and reveling in the days I spend with her is super important.  But is it pure stupidity to even consider having a child in the next couple years?  If we had a baby 4th year it would mean sleepless nights and pumping during intern year which just seems like creating such a stressful environment around what will already be stressful plus knowing I wouldn't have a lot of control over my schedule or how much I would be home for a little baby who really needs some extra mom time in those early months.  THe only pro would I would have some extra time home with baby before intern year started.  But I HATE that this career path does get to dictate when I have babies.  I want to have a job where I can just decide that I want to have another baby in 2 years and have it be no big deal.  I want to be able to have a 3mo maternity leave and not have it be a big deal.  So then, do I wait until right after intern year?  Obviously that would be more reasonable, I would have had time to get comfortable with my environment, my work load, my environment.  But then for sure I would only get 6weeks home at the most. And then, if I did a 5yr residency and wanted a 4th baby, what would be the attitude if I got pregnant a second time during residency?  Whereas if I did a 3yr residency I could have a baby as an attending..not sure that makes it much better timing in all reality to be new in a job and having another baby.  Good lord, who knew that when I started on this path it would be this way!  I think I always mocked medical students and physicians who acted like they had the hardest job in the world but now I can see a little where some of that attitude comes from, there are very few jobs were you have so little control for so many years over your life.  How so many other things have to take a backseat to medicine.  How you are constantly under extreme pressure all the time and can never do everything right...they always make sure you always feel right on the edge of failure or always feel like you need to work even harder to meet expectations.  I'm tired right now.  I am hopeful that with just 2 weeks of vacation at Christmas time I can buck this but I think the depression is just so deep set right now because the future just seems full of uncontrollability of lack of ever being able to do me without feeling like I'm neglecting everyone else.  Having to slowly get used to the idea that I will never get to be the reliable parent who can show up for everything like Kyle can.  That the girls will always have to hear that "mommy is busy at work" whenever they want me somewhere.  That if they are sick, they have to be headed to the ED for me to be able to ditch work and stay home with them.  I'm not sure how easy it is to reconcile all the things I can tell myself that "I'm a good female role model" "I'll be able to help provide them good opportunities in life" "I will have an interesting exciting career that I can share with them"  I'm not sure that's enough.  I'm not sure if I can be content with that.  When I consider surgery and how much I would love to go that route, I can always find a female mentor with kids who tell me its doable and not that bad...but then I wonder, what kind of mom are they? Are they the kind of mom I am where I think time with my kid is so amazing?  Where my vacation days, time off are days that I rush home to spend with them and not days I still send them to daycare so I can have time for me-cause there are a lot of moms like that and that's just not me.  Oh yeah, that's another current depression causing stress...I love surgery.  I think its a good fit for me.  But can I pick that as a specialty and not be like my dad?  Getting to have the career I love but neglecting my family as the trade-off?  Can you really have both? I'm not sure I've seen that.  Its easy to be like, its just like working any other job, but its not really.  Very few other jobs hold you so hostage...you can't just run off when you are in the middle of surgery.  You can't half-ass it when you have a big surgery the next day.  You can't just play hooky when you have a day of patients or cases the next day.  What have I signed myself up for?  I hope I look back at this and laugh.  But I'm not sure there's a lot to laugh about right now.

And its been a year...

I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out how to access this account so there were SO many posts I wanted to write but didn't get too.  I have to go back and read the post about having a positive pregnancy test because since then, I had a glorious summer off with Lydia that was filled with pretty terrible nausea all throughout the day and low energy that made playing with her sometimes a real challenge.  I'll admit, there were many days that were a real struggle bus and made me mourn a bit the lost free summer with Lydia.  Misquitos were also a real problem at home.  But we did have tons of fun playing at the park, traveling to either Merrill or Tomahawk, library time, books, crafts, lots of travel to visit Grandma Mary and Aunt Bernadette and Evey and so on.  We also took an amazing trip to Glacier with the whole Jacobson family where we announced our pregnancy (at a whole 12 weeks along).  School started back up and I had the pleasure of continuing to soldier through another semester of commuting, testing, anatomy labs, and testing all while growing more and more pregnant.  It was an awkward time as my classmates didn't really know what to do with me (I am a n=1 and only 1 of 2 mothers/parents in the class).  I was pretty relieved to go on xmas break.  Along the way, we had some health scares in that I got immensely big VERY quickly (good-bye to my running :(), had excess water and did a bunch of extra testing and scanning to make sure everything was ok.  Everything kept checking out normally but it was sure stressful knowing all the things that could be wrong and all the medical resources to look at to scare myself silly.  After a really great xmas break with some really really fun times with Lydia, I was off to my first 6 weeks of clinicals.  4 weeks of IM at Marshfield (6d/week and pretty long days, generally at least 6a-5p plus 2.5hrs of commuting). Then a week of psych where I got to just sit.  I was supposed to do a final week but knowing that the main doc was coming back and hoping I'd go anyday, I called it done.  But then no baby came...by Tuesday evening I was pretty nervous, at some point school would be expecting news of a babe!  Wednesday still no babe.  But then at 12a Thursday morning I woke up with contractions that were continuous and exceedingly uncomfortable...woke Kyle up and told him he could stay home from work.  Contractions continued ~8min for 2min at a time but never got closer.  As the morning progressed my frustration grew.  We walked to copper lake and all the way out to the island and back.  I'd have a contraction every 10min but that was it.  Are you serious I thought?  Then they picked back up to q6-8min but stayed that way.  Kyle's folks came for dinner and a walk.  Then they went home.  All of a sudden I started timing things again and realized they were coming every 3-4min and lasting 2+min.  I waited it out for a while and then went to show Kyle the timer schedule.  He called his parents who said they would finish up dinner and be over.  I got a little nervous wondering if that'd be soon enough but figured itd still be a while.  I was definitely getting very very uncomfortable. I tried music, moved around in all different positions, sat on the ball which didn't help like it had for Lydia.  I jumped in the shower and that did help.  Finally, Kyle's folks came.  I was in go mode.  He tried to make the bed for them and I said, we just have to go!  I tried to say goodbye with a normal face/composure and then collapsed in the car.  Distinctly not feeling great.  I texted Amy Falkenberg to tell her I would most definitely be getting an epidural.  Kyle called the hospital to tell them we were coming and I told them to make sure they knew I wanted an epidural too. Kyle started our 50min drive and I tried not to count how many contractiosn I still had to get through before we got there.  We were much too far away for my comfort at this point.  About halfway there my contractiosn changed and I started screaming through each one.  After a few I realized I was pushing!  The baby was coming NOW.  I told Kyle and he laughed.  He was so nervous he didn't know what else to do.  Luckily for me, he started driving faster!  We got there and I could feel the baby's head during each contraction. He pulled up to the front and got a wheelchair.  Registrtaion tried to stop up but I told them unless they wanted to deliver my baby, we needed to move!  He ran me down the hall, up the elevator, and into the birthing center.  I was hardly paying attention except to crawl in bed, they wanted me on my back but I couldn't tolerate it.  Each contraction I just screamed through.  The doc showed up, had me push and 4min later dumped a hot squirmy crying babe on my chest.  Best moment and best feeling a momma can experience.  It was amazing.  Little Louise Frances, born 4 min after we got to the hospital at 7p.  8.5lbs and 19" (though I think she was actually bigger).  Just a stitch or two and life and love filled our hearts once again-couldn't be more grateful and so happy for yet another gorgeous daughter.  Her smile and chill personality, the way her face lights up everytime she sees me, how she sleeps so well at night, cracks a smile the minute she sees her big sister and is growing by leaps and bounds just has me bursting with joy and love every day.  6 weeks of maternity leave-amazing and much much much too short at the same time.  Who knew how great kids would be?  To experience life always wanting them to experience things and learn gives you an opportunity to re-explore the world at the same time.  It is a most precious gift to live again with the wonder of a child as an adult.  My heart is so full.  I am such a lucky women.

followed by 1 week of in-patient psych that I just did with Trista

as the doc was off. For the month of IM, it was a huge learning curve, so much

course work, projects and presentations, long days, and 2.5hrs of driving on top

of it-it was pretty exhausting but interesting. The week of psych was nice

short hours but boring-probably a good way to head into maternity leave. I was

supposed to start a second week but I was so cashed and assuming the baby was

coming any minute that I emailed everyone on Monday to say I was in labor. Of

course, I grew more and more frustrated as the days passed and I wasn't in

labor! I got to the point where if I wasn't in labor after Thurs I was going to

go back, but lo and behold, I awoke at midnight Thursday morning in labor!

Things were going along well. I walked round, tried to eat little snacks, drink

lots of water, and just pass the time. I was able to doze on and off but knew

this was the real deal! In the morning I told Kyle we were a go but by 10a,

things really slowed down and I got pretty disheartened. We ended up taking

Lydia on a long walk down to copper lake, across the lake to the island and

back. I'd have a very strong contraction every 8-10min but that was it. I

really started to feel bad that Kyle had stayed home. Later that day, Grdma and

Grdpa Jacobson came to visit and we went for another long walk. Again, I'd have

a strong contraction every 5-10min but nothing was seeming to get faster. Then

they left and things really picked up. I stopped timing things because it was

pretty frustrating but I was definitely very uncomfortable, it was difficult

because Lydia wanted to see what I was up to and I was jonesing for a little

more support from Kyle but he had to hang with her. I showered, listened to

relaxing music, and tried all different positions. Finally I started timing

things and realized they were getting really close and long. We hemmed and

hawed about calling Sandy and Dave but finally did...they said they;d be back

over in 1.5hrs (since they had just got back to the cabin). I was a little

nervous about that but figured I still had plenty of time. I was definitely

exceedingly uncomfortable and concerned about how much worse it was going to

get. I texted Amy Falkenberg and told her I would probably be getting an

epidural because I didn't think I could do it. In-laws showed up and I barely

made it to car..I was getting grumpy with Kyle because he wasn't moving as quick

as I wanted and with an hour drive ahead of us we still had to get there. On

the drive I must have been laying in the perfect position because we weren't

more than 15min in the drive when the quality of the contractions changes and I

found myself screaming through each one. It took me a bit before it dawned on

me that this was pushing time! I told Kyle, I think I can feel the baby's

head...he laughed. I said, I'm serious. He started driving faster. We got to

the hospital about 7:05. He pulled up to the door, grabbed a wheelchair as I

screamed through another contraction and wheeled me in. They were trying to

register me at the front desk but I looked at them and said, unless you want to

deliver my baby right here, we are going to keep going. Run kyle. We got up

the stairs. To the room as I struggled through another contraction. The nurse

was like shit! The doc came flying in the room and asked how dilated I was. The

nurse said, I saw the baby's head on her last contraction. It was go time! 4

minutes later, after a lot of screaming and refusing to move from my side to my

back, a squirmy, super warm, snuggly little bundle of joy was dumped on my

chest. Louise Frances. Born 5 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. </P>

Surg-Ortho Trauma

Interesting speciality; liked the doc I worked with because he was super careful and a perfectionist in all his repairs. Was a huge adrenaline rush to get to 1st and 2nd assist.  Retracted, cut sutures, sutured a bit, held cameras, suctioned, and just got to be all up in the business of surgery.  For sure in my next life I'll go into surgery.  I love the motion of it, the sense of completion, of making a real definitive difference for a patient, for having an actual solution to a problem.  But its also hard on you, you're hungry/thirsty/have to pee but it doesn't matter.  Your arm might go numb holding equipment but you just keep standing there.  As the surgeon, no one else can solve the problem.  You are alone and any shit that hits the fan is solely your responsibility.  You can have that big ego but you better be good.  For me it was a super interesting but exhausting week. With a 2.5hr drive and long hours of standing sans food/water I was pretty knackered and had a tough time being "on" as a good mom all weekend when I really felt like I needed to take care of me but of course had no time/option of that.  I lost 3lbs in 1 week which rocked except I felt so weak and worn out..likely it was mostly muscle loss.  Got to scrub in on an ankle repair, distal humeral repair, total hip, several hip pinnings, tibial avulsion fx repair, SI pinning, shoulder reduction-all in all a great week.  Made me realize again how much more fun/interesting surgery is at least in comparison to primary care.  The surgeon's life seems to require a coddled way of life for the surgeon which is obviously not likely to happen in my life.  It was extremely difficult to feel like a good mom and that was coming home at 6:30p and leaving before they woke and weekends off..itd be a lot worse as a resident and that;d linger for years. Lydia was being super crabby and so I asked her if she preferred to be at Sol's house and her reply (at 2.5yrs)? "No mom, I'd prefer you didn't go to work." Ha. Poor kid.  Born to the wrong mom :( mommy guilt sucks.

Two lines means what?!?

As recently as June 3, I have an angry blog post sitting in my "draft" box venting over all the people who seemed to not even want or care about the babies they had while I just kept turning up negative despite wanting a child so much.
Which brings us to last Friday morning, at 4a, I slipped out of bed to throw on my scrubs and head to the hospital. I was finishing a week of general surgery and loving every minute of it.  I loved the pace, the no nonsense, the more sure solutions to problems, the precision and skill required. I loved the early mornings and felt so motivated and in syn even when I got reamed for doing things like accidently cutting a stitch (instead of just the tail) or forgetting a certain anatomical landmark.  After a tough week with long days devoid of food, water, and bathroom breaks I have no idea what caused me to reach for a pregnancy test.   I sleepily glanced down at it as I was brushing my teeth and froze.  These were those super cheap tests from Amazon so it lacked the precise +/- that gives you rapid answers one way or another.  This one was either one or two lines.  As I looked at it again, my still sleeping brain tried to rapidly remember which one meant which.  Did two lines mean pregnant?!??! or not? I had to pull out the box and look at the directions several times.  And then sat there frozen again, holy shit.  I took another test, tried again.  Same result.  How can someone with a PhD have such a hard time remembering how many lines mean what?!  Perhaps this explains why I hated western blots.  But at long last I decoded the riddle: I am PREGNANT!!!! And to say I am shocked yet so truly excited would be an understatement.  I have had absolutely zero symptoms.  I've been focused and on top of my game and filled with insane amounts of energy.  I felt cutthroat and rock solid, no roller coaster of emotions, no tears, no mean streak (like first time around)  Granted I crash pretty hard when I get home from work but that's to be expected after 4a starts and hanging with DLO from the minute I'm done with surgery til bed.  I debated rushing to tell DH right away but figured it was a great day to whip it into a surprise. I had a shorter clinic day so would have a little time to do something fun.  I walked around on cloud nine all day.  The only thing I worried about was how long I'd been pregnant...I had gone nuts taking so many pregnancy tests that I had decided to veto them until my boobs hurt (which had been my big tell with DLO#1).  So I had gone on and on and done things like not eaten well during surgery, poor sleep, a couple sips of alcohol the weekend before with DH (luckily nothing more than that!) and tons of coffee.  All things I had religiously avoided even during TTC with #1. After clinic, I ran to the store, bought a cute little dinosaur onesie (DLO #1 favorite right now) and a white t-shirt that I decorate "#1 Big Sib" for DLO. But here I am, crazily in love with the idea of DLO#2, worried I messed up DLO#2 by not even knowing I was pregnant, knowing I'm crazy for planning to have a baby during clinical rotations, and yet still so happy.  Here we go, dating ultrasound in a week (2.5weeks after positive test) so I'll be able to feel more assured about viability and start making some plans.  Wooohoooo!

TTC #2

Much like the first time around, there is much anxiety about the "right" time to have # 2.  But as my medical school courses have hammered home, those eggs start aging pretty quickly as you slide towards 40, chromosomal abnormalities and mutation rates increase pretty dramatically and things like premature ovarian failure are not uncommon.  Its really amazing when you study things like embryology, fertility, and reproduction things hit home a little more when you can apply them to oneself.  I had nightmares for a month about dead babies as we learned as I unkindly called it "the hundreds of flavors of dead babies." I had to be calvalier about it as each image of someone's child who died either in utero or shortly post-natally was held up as an example of a disease/disorder/mutation that we were learning.  All I could do was think of the grief-striken parents and imagine myself in their shoes.  Thus the weeks of terrible nightmares.  But I digress (maybe)? So here we are, anxious to get baby #2 in the works, at a happy place in life were DLO #1 is in a good place for a sibling, though honestly in probably a terrible position in my training (though honestly over the next ~10yrs there isn't an awesome time but if I waited I'd be out of luck). DH is pretty excited for round 2 which I find amazingly adorable because its not like our lives are that easy right now and his enthusiasm for adding more chaos is to me a sign of his love. So now we're back in that terrible place (for me) of TTC, where I curse my body every cycle for failing us.  Where I watch every sign and twinge and drop of blood for signs of fertility.  Its too consuming. Its too exhausting. I envy the ladies with the fertile bodies that reproduce with ease.  I'm tired of the rollercoaster of thinking I "might be" pregnant only to be severely disappointed a few days/weeks later.  Case in point, I've finally had my cycle back regularly (which for me is odd so maybe that's issue #1), I've been tracking every sign like crazy, marking every time we "do it," and use all the various calculators to figure out the prime fertility window.  DH has his own plan and has just been making sure to "do it" at least every other night which is nice but is also slightly exhausting and probably unsustainable if this takes us a while.  Two days ago I got light spotting, it fit exactly with when (if I had nailed our fertility window) we'd have implantation! My joy bounded, the issues it will cause with my training didn't matter.  I started daydreaming about scheduling and announcing it adorably to DH after a positive pregnancy test and what our lives would look like early next year.  But then today, with heavier cramps and some more bleeding I can only assume damn ole Aunt Flo is on the way. And I'm sad again for all the effort and energy and high hopes and the months and years ahead of going through it over and over again.  I'm tired and we've only been trying for a few months. Maybe I'm just tired.  Three weeks left of the semester and a slightly needy (read up a lot at night) though independently inclined and stubborn (read, won't do anything without a fight) toddler who has recently made me feel like the "mean mom" has kind of worn me out.  Here's to summer and easy? TTC and all the rest of it.  Oh yeah, and passing the year?  Probably better get back to studying to ensure I won't be repeating anything...that of all my worries, is always the biggest one of all!  SO easy in med school to make one small slip.

Love

I know its clique, it irritated me every time parents would get this faraway look in their eyes and say "you never know what love is until you have a kid." But as every parent can attest, its the truth.  When a picture of your kid or a goofy antic or their peals of giggles makes your breath catch and your heart hurt you know what they meant.  You are now living the clique.  And its more than the fact that they can make you deliriously happy at the drop of a hat, its also their little arms curled around your neck as they learn how great hugs are, or their attempts at kisses, or the way you rock them to sleep and they are curled up on you, just about to be too big to fit on your lap but never too big to fit on your lap.  Or the way your heart just melts in smolders when you hear about kids getting abused or  when they are unloved and try to fathom how anyone could allow that to happen to their kid.  Its when you realize what true evil must be and that it does exist.  Anytime someone chooses to hurt a child or allow them to exist without love.  That is evil.  I cannot be a pediatrician because I can not handle working with children and their parents because it would hurt too much sometimes.  I have long pondered what may differentiate those who love their kids so much it can be physically painful versus those who can cause physical or emotional pain to their child.  One thing that always really touches deep to my core is when I listen to Andrew Solomon who is one of my most favorite and probably one of the greatest authors of all times talk about his love for his family.  One of the things he says is that he just never expected to be a father, never expected to be a husband, never expected to have love like this.  And for me at least, that is probably part of why even when parenting is exhausting (and let me tell you as a parent, in medical school to boot, of a kid that thinks sleep is enemy #1, it is exhausting often), I am still gloriously, annoyingly in love with being a parent because I didn't think I would get this.  I never expected to find a man who made my heart skip a literal beat, I thought that was just for the fairytales.  My parents definitely weren't the model of happily ever after and realistically with a divorce rate of 50% and finding a good man being like being struck by lightening, I just didn't really expect it for myself.  And I knew I would have challenges getting pregnant so my life's plans in my mind never included all of that.  And then my life did go that route and the unexpected became possible and treasured because it is never taken for granted.  It always feels like a gift that might get taken away because who gets to be this happy?  And so, like Andrew Solomon, I am cautiously optimistic about the permanence of my happiness but it makes me revel in each and every moment, to appreciate the baby wisps of hair, the fleeting days of breastfeeding, the too short weekends and holidays, the grains of sand that pour too quickly through the clock of life.  Love.  It is what makes life rich beyond words, its what colors the days and makes them seem bright.  Thank you to DH and DLO for making my life richer beyond my greatest expectations.  Love.