Vacation Woes

When the last couple weeks of the semester were oh so stressful and I had to make the effort to devote every second to studying, in my milliseconds of daydreaming I made mental checklists of the fabulous things I would do on my two-week Christmas break and had fantasies of getting things done, spending loads of quality time with DLO, and do extra special Christmas things like bake lots of cookies, cook lots of meals, and revel in family.  Cut to today where I spent over an hour trying to get DLO to take nap and I marveled at the wastefulness of a whole hour devoted to trying to get her to sleep so she wouldn't be a crazy wreck later.  I marveled at all the things I hadn't gotten done or even started, and contemplated how much of a failure I felt.  The house wasn't clean, no cookies were baked, no exercise was getting done, and the worst of it, I didn't even feel like I was getting quality time in with DLO. Trying to do things like cook and clean for guests meant I halfheartedly played with her while simultaneously tried to "get things done" and all those things (like cleaning) got messed again so quickly I hardly had time to appreciate it and all I was left with was frustration, exhaustion, and disappointment in loss of time with DLO.  It seems like if I want to get anything done, I sacrifice DLO time and half the time I can't get that thing done or done properly so I not only don't get anything accomplished but then don't spend time with DLO.  Its such a catch-22 and so frustrating.  I really wanted to catch up on all the things I put off with the craziness of school but trying to get those things done is like building a sand wall against the encroaching sea.  How in the world do stay-at-home mom's get anything done?  I feel like I have more fun with Lydia and appreciate her more when I'm in school because I make sure any moment with her then is truly focused on her.  When I'm home, I feel the expectation to accomplish "something" which means I don't spend as much time focused on her.  Gah, what a depressing post.  I'll have to work on writing again after a fun day with DLO and also use this as a reminder that if the most important thing to me is time with her, than I need to lower my expectations around everything else.

The morning after...

I am quite apolitical.  I hate arguments, I hate feeling anger and angst towards others.  It makes me miserable and unhappy.  I think it started as a kid in a very argumentative family.  I always was the peace-maker.  I wanted people to be happy.  I have found this quality as it followed me into adulthood to be both a positive and negative one.  I don't engage in fights, I am pleasant, I avoid conflict unless it is morally offensive or dangerous.  But the converse side of it, is I don't always take a stand when perhaps I should because of fear of causing dissent.  Now, as we look towards the next several years with a Trump president I wonder, will I be forced to take a stance and be courageous in my views as we fall of the cliff of insanity? Or will I be a sheep?  Like the thousands of kind, well-meaning Germans who went along with Hitler.  Not because they supported him or thought what he was doing was right but because they were gentle kind people who didn't want to cause conflict, dissent, or risk their own lives.  I wonder which I will be.
Today I sobbed over an election result.  Never before have I cared so deeply.  Always before the politicians were a horse a piece.  Who won was not going to change the course of our history all that much (except maybe the exceptional way our country elected our first black president 8years ago!).  But today felt like a million steps backwards.  Instead of shattering a glass ceiling and electing our first woman president.  Instead of electing our only sane choice we let our caveman emotions let us pick not only the most unqualified person perhaps in the history of our country but also a fool and worse a dangerous one.  By appealing to people's biases, Trump won the presidential election.  He made it ok for people to not just be subtly racist and sexist and discriminatory, he allowed them to be proud of it.  I always feared living in a rural area and raising my children there because when you surround yourself with lots of white people it is easy to fear what you do not know.  Instead of appreciating the richness of the cultures of others and perhaps even being envious of their rich traditions compared to the blandness that the melting pot has left many of us with we fear what we do not know.  Instead of learning to share, to take a turn at the table, to appreciate the differences of others and how wide that makes our world view, we instead because close-minded and shallow and insensitive.  Today I learned that being rural is not just the problem, our entire country is the problem.  I will be making sure that my residency applications are all to large states that voted blue because if anyone is going to be able to maintain a tiny sense of what I had hoped for our country it will be these large states that can (hopefully) stand firm.
Be ashamed America.  Be so very ashamed.  We were not electing a contestant for a reality show.  We were electing the leader of what was the greatest country in the world.  We can only pray and hope that somehow these next few years will go quickly and nothing catastrophic will happen but when you let a man with no respect for others or institutions or laws into the White House, the chances we'll get off that easy are dismally slim.  And that is why I cry.  Because not only will I be ashamed that my daughter will have to learn of this man in history classes and know that our country, her parent's generation was unable to make the country a better place for them.  That we let loose the monster that has the potential to collapse our nation.  That perhaps this is truly the end of what was a great nation and the history books will document the folly and the fall.  But I will be ashamed that sexism and racism are so much more alive and well in our country than I thought.  I thought each generation pushed us forward but found that perhaps the desire to go backward was deep in the hearts of so many people.
As a white American I apologize to all the rich diverse people of our nation who must feel so alone and so threatened today.  Courage to all of us as we face the next 4 years.

The Cake Full of Regret

Exam week was last week and I was ssooo looking forward to this glorious weekend of relaxing, having really quality one-on-one time with DLO and Mr. Wonderful and getting lots and lots done.  Somehow the weekend went way too fast, was way too stressful, nothing got done that was supposed to and I woke up at 4a to head back to school on Monday with a whole bunch of regret.

To preface my stupid cake story, I take time with DLO VERY seriously.  Choosing to go to medical school while she was a baby made me decide I had three priorities in life: DLO, Mr. Wonderful, and school.  Sort of important things like paying bills, chasing down contractors for our "almost" finished house, making doctor's appointments and such come 4th, self-care (ie, the thing that used to be my joyous hobby: running and cycling) a distant 5th.  And cleaning other than when anyone comes to visit a very very distant 6th.  I am ok with a dirty house if I can feel good about the quality and time I spend with DLO around the very consuming studies (and additional burden of driving in my case).  

Sssoooo, that brings us to the stupid cake.  It was Mr. Wonderful's bday smack-dab in the middle of exam week.  Which meant, I wasn't even home for his birthday and I sure didn't have time to celebrate any other day of the week (I did leave him a big goody bag and card the morning I headed to school for exams if that counts!).  So bday celebrations were left for the weekend and I tried to "go big" in my attempt to make up for any potentially perceived neglect.  I brought his favorite take-out home on Friday, we went out on a date Saturday night (only our second since DLO was born...yikes!), I made him breakfast Sunday morning and then made him a lemon curd cake from scratch.

This cake was a thing of beauty.  I made the lemon curd from the eggs laid by our very own flock of hens (very proud about this! love our chickens!), I made the cake from scratch, I made the frosting from scratch...all while trying to juggle DLO for the entire day alone (Mr. W was working on serious new house projects that had to be finished!).  She was being her normal, rambunctious, inquisitive self with a small dose of crankiness because I missed the nap window of opportunity. So there I am, exhausted from the week of exams, a few bad nights of sleep because DLO was sick, trying to make this darn cake, and trying to get DLO to just hang on a minute so I could finish the cake.  Suffice to say, the cake turned out great (at least one small consolation) but I was left feeling a bit sour about the wasted DLO time and the frazzled nerves caused by one little stupid, not worth it bday cake.  I'm sure Mr. W would have loved a box cake just as much.  It's amazing how angry you can get about time wasted when you have so few hours to waste.  And any time I miss the opportunity to spend quality time with DLO makes me unhappiest of all.

And to wrap this rather boring and unexciting tale up: as I'm just arriving at school 3hrs of driving later, Mr. W calls to tell me he's taking the cake to work so we don't over-indulge.  I pretty much wanted to cry.  So much for a wasted day of cake making.  Never again!

Sleeplessness

I am probably one of the "most" un-traditional students in my med school class.  As in most of my peers just can't envision being as old as me and when they do, they envision it as a time when they'll be well into their chosen career.  In a rather large class, I am 1/2 of the mothers, 1/2 of the PhDs, and definitely in the top 5% of the age curve.  It really brought home how ancient some of my 22-year old classmates think I am when I was remarking that it was a bit "age-ist" to only provide the meningitis vaccination free to students 25 and under.  And to that, one said, "you should take it as a compliment that they assume you aren't making out with undergrads at frat parties."  Which, is I suppose true (though one should never assume things!).  It does always make me feel a lot better when I see many of my classmates posting pictures of themselves partying all weekend.  I often get frustrated by the small amount of time I am able to squeeze studying in on the weekends and always envision my single, unattached peers spending the days just killing it in the library all weekend but I just thank my lucky stars that they are getting the same lack of sleep I am.  Me, because I am up all night with a baby.  Them, because they're up all night partying and necking with undergrads.  That curve is real (and viscous) so I appreciate a slight leveling of the playing field!  Oh the competitiveness of medical school, apparently one is never too old to participate ;)

The M1 Summer Baby That Wasn't....

I know, I know...our lives are CRAZY!  But at the same time, the best thing in our lives is absolutely DLO and since I'm no spring chicken we decided that we'd aim for that narrow target of the summer between M1 and M2 for baby #2.  We had lots of fun trying, if a little sporadic thanks to the stress of medical school but as another single-lined pregnancy test stares me in the face, I realize our summer baby is likely not to be.  And I'm sad.  It takes a lot of gumption to make that commitment for another kid (especially during med school) and once you make it, you can't wait!  Or at least that's how I am.  I have that first initial panic attack, like "wait, are we sure we want to do this?!?!?!" and then I fall in love with the baby that I envision we're making.  But we had a very finite window since as you might previously recall I commute! to medical school and definitely can't have a baby when I'm on the road.  So we're back to not trying and I have one more week where its possible I could still test positive but my hopes are sinking and I'm having to come to peace with envisioning an entirely different M1 summer...one full of sleep, no diapers, and one-on-one time with DLO.  I think I could fall in love with that too but...well, guess I just hold out hope for another week at least. :)

Med School-Semester 1

While, I haven't written despite my intentions to blog about my journey through medical school.  I think its because I'm still adjusting and still trying to realign my self-identity and life.  Medical school as a mother who lives 2.5hrs north of school is TOUGH.  I won't go into why I am commuting but only that it is a necessity.  I do have friends that I can stay overnight with but it also means I have a huge daily struggle about staying overnight with them so as to not miss certain classes and missing out on seeing DLO.  Currently I drive down 2x a week and stay over one night which effectively gives me three days on campus and 2 off.  I can watch lectures on lecture capture which is way more efficient and effective for me but I do miss some medium group work.  After our first exam (which was the hardest exam I've ever taken...and I've taken a lot of hard tests!), I hit the panic button and told the family we were moving!  Dear husband took it pretty seriously as we both know that we can't afford (both time or money) to have me repeat a year.  But then exam grades were posted and I was sitting comfortably in the top third of the class so the panic has (sort of) subsided for now.  I do get pretty down over all the things I miss out on.  There are some clubs, leadership roles, special lectures, and social events with my classmates that I would have really enjoyed getting to participate in but with the distance its never worth it.  I just really make sure to focus on the amazing things I do have that aren't worth trading for any day at the beach with classmates or shadowing a surgeon (as much as I'd lover to!): my AMAZING husband, my DLO (who breaks my heart daily as I send her away to daycare so I can get my 10hrs of studying in), our good life, our families.  The list could go on.  Hopefully as time progresses I can write cheerier posts about the cool aspects of medical school cause right now I have pretty mixed feelings about whether this was the best life choice for myself and my family.  But anyway, I'm wasting super precious study time.  Until next time... :)

Pre- and Post- Week 1 of M1

Pre:

I had one week off with little DLO and each day I rocked her to sleep for her naps and sat there an extra long time, smelling her (quickly fading) little baby smell, watching her breath, enjoying her pudgy little arms and hands wrapped around me.  I tried, tried, tried to enjoy each and every moment and just live in that moment.  I tried to enjoy every single crabby moment, diaper change, moment spent because I knew in just a week's time, DLO would be spending all those moments with our babysitter (who is amazing but isn't me).  But of course I was also freaking out trying to get ready for a pretty big life change so I wasn't as successful as I would have liked.  DH and I tried to do a few little things to celebrate and make special our last "care-free" days of summer.  

Post:

The world hasn't ended, I have still gotten to snuggle DLO quite a bit and they really rolled out the carpets for us in the first week of medical school.  I was kinda in love with it for the first week.  Lots to do but not overwhelming yet (I'm very nervously anticipating that).  I have a lot of classmates that look at me like I'm a 3-headed monster when I say I'm married with a kid.  I'm also 50% of the PhD's in my class.  I'm searching darn hard for some more non-trads...I know that my school in particular has a lot but most of the ones I met are "non-trad" because they took a gap year.  I envy them all their free-time and easy planning of get-togethers.  I most envy them their sleep (yes, little DLO still SUCKS at sleeping...next baby we definitely want one of the sleeping versions!!!).  But when I hold DLO, I feel bad for them.  I realize(d) after our white coat ceremony that for a great majority of my classmates, getting accepted to and starting medical school is the biggest most important thing that has happened to them.  They tell everyone, they put on FB, there parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles came to the ceremony, that is their new identity.  But I have gotten proposed to ("you want to spend the rest of your life with me? me? tears...).  I have gotten married.  I TTC for a very long time and then got the best Christmas present of my life (who knew a urine soaked stick with a plus on it would be what we always wanted under our tree?).  And then had the most glorious, terrific, awe-inspiring, life-alternating day when they put DLO in our arms; and each day with her only gets better.  Most people in my life don't know I'm in medical school.  I am actually slightly ashamed/embarrassed to be back in school AGAIN and with the added mommy guilt of "abandoning" my child to do it.  Going to medical school is a thing I do, it is not my identity (yet..I imagine this will change as it consumes more of life).  I don't hold it against any of my classmates, I do not feel superior.  Beyond just the time they have and the sleep they get, they get to look forward to all those other huge life events, they get to maybe be well established in their career track, financially stable, good hours, etc before they take the dive into parenthood.  I super envy them that.  I have ALL my training ahead with DLO #1 at home and a hopeful DLO #2 in the works.  But I digress.  From what I don't know.  I just don't know how to explain the ups and downs of the strange place I find myself.  Commuting to medical school.  Being a mommy in medical school.  Well anyway, back to work/studying.  Wish me luck, more to come!

The Rock and the Tree

In the Lamar Valley of Yellowstone, there is an area where if you look around every tree is is paired up with a very large rock.  And when I mean paired, I mean as snug as you can get.  In fact, DH said it looked like the rocks rolled down a hill and stopped when they crashed into a tree.  If you look very carefully, you will in fact not find a single tree that is not with a rock.  The rest of the vegetation is just sage bush and grass.  My theory (of which I did no investigatory research): when a seed fell in this inhospitable environment, the hot sun and the cold nights killed anything more fragile than a sage bush.  But if a seed fell by a rock, it was shaded from the intense light and heat, at night the rock which had absorbed sun all day released that heat back into the ground.  Rain fell and streamed off the rock onto the small seed and it grew into a massive tree that surrounded an edge of the rock.  Now the rock enjoys the shade of the tree, the companionship of the animals that live in its branches, the sound of the rustling leaves and swaying branches in the wind.   It is one of the first things to feel the spring frost as the tree pulls the sun's rays and warmth down into its roots that hug the rock.  This pair makes me think of the elements that makes us strong.  Sometimes we need to be like a rock: unbending, tough, solid, a place for someone to lean on, a shelter for a small seed, a place where light and warmth are absorbed and released back to others.  But also like a tree, growing, providing shade and shelter, yielding when it is right to do so, sometimes fragile but other times so strong, connected to others, able to ask for and lean on another when its necessary.  A good relationship is composed of these elements too.  Each person has some wood and some rock and together they are strong and complete providing for the other as needed.
If you ever get a chance to visit the Lamar Valley, you should look for these tree/rocks.  It is a striking composition and really touched me deeply as I go into my last week before I start school.  I am trying to shed my fears, anxieties, and doubts.  I am trying to channel the rock and the tree.  Trying to be the rock and the tree for my family.  And for myself.

Baby #2

It is a very striking difference, our discussion to try for baby #2.  With baby #1, we didn't really know what we were in for.  We didn't have a baby and it was to be our first.  It brought me to tears when we decided we were ready and we started TTC.  Not only did my most wonderful, amazing DH love me as his wife but loved me as the mother of his future children.  We had a bit of a challenge conceiving our first and everything about that pregnancy was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.  And today our DLO is the perfect joy in our lives.  Changing everything about everything but never have we been so happy.  Trying for #2 is a different thing all together, your lives have already changed so the question is, can we handle more craziness and stress?  For me, the added question, can I do this on top of medical school?  The problem is, the "best" time during medical school is the summer between M1 and M2, so we either aim for that our wait until M4 (and DLO would be almost 5 by then, an age gap we aren't thrilled with).  If we're successful this time I think our families will think we're nuts instead of being thrilled by grand-baby #1 (on both sides).  But heck, DH is on board, and I think I'm inboard (how in the world will I do no coffee in med school?).  So here we go!  We're going to TTC for 2 months to try to hit that sweet spot and then call it off until M4, so wish us luck?  We joke it's the "Russian roulette" of conception.  Here's to Baby #2, may you come if you're ready, we know we'll love you the world over just the way we do DLO #1.

Take My Breath Away

If you've read any of my recent posts, you'll know that big changes are coming in my life.  And I am not good with big changes that are impossible to plan for, control, or foresee the outcome of.  So my entire being is awash with anxieties.  Anxieties that unfortunately sometimes come out negatively (as darling DH put it, "you just get in these circular rants where you say the same thing over and over..").  But when I am with DLO, all of a sudden she will do something: break into peals of laughter, stick her tongue out while she concentrates on something new she learned, turn around suddenly and lock eyes with me giving me the biggest, toothiest (all 6 teeth!) grin and my heart stops.  No anxieties can be found.  I am agog at this beam of sunshine that came into my life only 10.5 short months ago.  Her tiny being does more for my soul than any failed attempts at yoga or meditation.  She literally has the ability to stop me in my tracks and make me appreciate all that is good in life, forces me to be absolutely present in that moment, reminds me of the sheer bliss and innocence that somehow gets lost as we age.  In those moments, I embrace all of those things but mostly I embrace my dimpled, chubby-cheeked, curious, joy-filled child that I have been blessed with.  Being a mama has changed my life in oh so many ways.  And as any mama knows, there are some things we dearly miss, but never could I have predicted or appreciated the way she fills my life with her own little brand of sunshine.  "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  You make me happy when skies are grey.  You'll never know dear how much I love you, so please don't (ever) take my sunshine away."

Where's the thrill?

I wanted to write something lyrical and beautiful and fun to read.  I was reading the most wonderful blog that felt like reading poetry, the kind of blog that is a rare beast and most certainly not found in my own musings.  The kind of blog that makes you wish the author would pen hundreds of novels so on that rare vacation when you can read a book you are swept away and feel the soul healing sensation of a book that transports you and nurtures you and heals you.  I cannot actually tell you what kind of book or what subject these novels are, but I know they exist because I have read such books that make me tear up for their wonderfulness but also tear up when I finish them.  They are the books that I immediately go to Amazon and purchase so that in the even rarer case I have time to re-read a novel, they are waiting there like an old friend ready to welcome me back into their embrace.  Ah, the memories of childhood where there was so much time to sink into and get utterly lost in such books.  Now time is so precious that I get frustrated by the lack of quality books because lord help the author who wastes my precious time with inferior writing!  But I digress.  I have always wanted to write like that.  When I read something like that I am re-inspired to write anything, a love letter to my DH, the next great American novel, a fantastic blog post.  And so I try.  And then I realize that I fall more into the "inferior material" kind of author and I am sad.
That's how I feel about all my recent posts.  The one issue with medical school applications (and reapplications) is that it is YEARS worth of chasing after a singular dream. So all the fears and nerves and concerns just cycle back over and over.  Nothing is new, nothing changes, nothing is resolved because no forward movement has been made.  Now we are down to my last month before I am officially a M1.  I still worry about money, about having more children, about time to spend with my children and DH, about commuting to medical school, about passing medical school, about being a great doctor while most importantly being a great mother, about my marriage making it through the stress of medical school and all the challenges it brings.  See, inferior material.  Really I should just make every post about DD because even in noone else finds it soul-enriching, I most certainly do.  A more lucky mother you cannot find.  And that brings us full circle: I feel no thrill over starting medical school because I fear the challenges will most affect my child (and children to come) and this theme is all I can bring myself to blog about because it is all that is on my mind.

The 10-month dilemna

They warn you about how hard newborns are and you get everyone's sympathy about how terrible you look, how tired you are, and how you have food in your hair and mushed into your shirt until your baby is about 6 months old.  Then people expect that the baby and you have gotten your shit all figured out.  At least that is the way it feels and thus why I feel so much desperation as my beautiful bouncing inquisitive stubborn 10-month makes me feel each day like a less and less competent mother.  I really think it all stems to the sleep deprivation, one cannot do anything properly after 10 MONTHS of no-sleep.  You think I exxaggerate?  I don't.  When she was a baby, we thought 2-3 times a night was a lot.  NOW, the standard is 4 times a night.  I really wish I was kidding.  That whole 10-month regression thing plus the fact that she never slept well is really killing us.  It's really starting to mess me up physically, mentally, and emotionally.  I feel like I can't get anything done anymore because I am too exhausted to kick into gear in the precious moments I have to get stuff done.  My exhausted state makes it very easy to make unhealthy eating decisions and makes it hard to have the motivation to get out and exercise.  I feel like I look like a Zombie, I probably am shorter tempered with DH.  Pretty much I thought things would get easier as she got older but I find it much much harder.  Probably because on top of it all, she's like a week or 2 from walking but all she wants to do is be walked around over and over.  And if you carry her, she's not a light baby anymore.  Boy, do I sound like a whiner? I'm just SO tired and getting SO depressed.  And start medical school in 5 weeks so something has to change asap....or I might really start enjoying those nights away from home a little too much. :(

Battle O' Wills: Not Winning

DLO is getting SO big and has 6!!! teeth to show for it!  And did I mention I bf?  Anyone experiencing Jaws-like anxiety for me yet?  DLO is a super bright, super inquisitive, and super stubborn (yup, those would be my genes) little girl.  Take that stubbornness and apply it to bf + teeth and my worst case scenario is a reality.  I imagine DLO's mouth hurts terribly, 4 of the said 6 teeth all came in within a week but her interest in nibbling on mommy has gotten really old really quickly.  I've tried all the different techniques to stopping said behavior to no avail.  Yesterday in fact she went on a hunger strike.  I wanted her to eat cause I was uncomfortable (and of course away from home with no pump) and she bit every time we tried.  And in just one day of no feeding my milk supply took a big hit.  So now, she's teething, hungry, and my milk is coming in slow/less = more biting.  I'm thinking that we may be done bf'ing and I'm pretty sad.  I have really enjoyed the bonding most especially valuing it after we had some bumps early on.  I didn't expect it to potentially end so abruptly!  So here we are, damned if we do, damned if we don't.  In this contest, I am most definitely the loser...either I get bit or we wean and neither option I like.  So cross your fingers that she figures out really really soon that biting mommy is not really just not nice.

Parenting Equality

I was always the girl growing up who was determined that IF I did ever get married (and that was low on the priority list) that my marriage would be one of full equality.  Housework, breadwinning, child-rearing would all be a 50/50 split.  Fast-forward many years, a wonderful DH and our first DLO and things are not quite like I had "planned."  Don't get me wrong, DH is really as wonderful as wonderful can be, he cooks and cleans like a pro.  He took just as much paternity time off as I took maternity time.  But as our DLO has gotten older, her care has fallen more and more primarily on my shoulders and mostly my fault.  The problem is, I suffer from that terrible and unproductive "mommy guilt."  I am a working mother and thus feel like I am a terrible mother.  My own mother (and grandmother) were SAHM's so do little to assuage this guilt.  So when I rush home from work I dedicate every minute to my daughter.  Almost none to DH and most certainly not to myself.  I pat myself on the back when she prefers me, I revel in dinner time and bath time and tell myself that the gabillion times she wakes up at night just is extra time for me to make up for the time I am at work.  But as she nears her first birthday, several things are happening....1) I am SO worn out.  She is not a good sleeper.  Plus by devoting every non-working minute to her care means I feel tired and yucky and worn down.  2) My relationship with the wonderful DH has definitely taken a hit.  How could it not?  Our dating, courting, and fun together as a married couple has always revolved around bicycles.  Bike racing, long bike rides, hanging out and riding bikes with other "bike" people.  We both really stopped doing the bike thing but again as she nears her first birthday, DH is getting back in the swing of things but I feel like if I take the time to go on those bike rides, I am taking that time away from the little I have to spend with DLO.  I think we've gone on one date (we weren't huge "date" people to begin with) since she was born and even then I was torn by guilt being away and made DH feel bad about it too. 3) I am going to medical school this fall.  This has been a major source of distress in my life.  I will be commuting to a school 3hrs away because its only for 3 semesters (all clinical rotations are local) and it was silly to make DH quit his job for such a short period of time and our daycare is the greatest thing in the world and wasn't worth losing/leaving.  But that means I'll likely have to spend a few nights away from home.  Mother guilt, rear your ugly head. One of the things we're attempting is "easing" DLO from her mommy-only evening/night routine to a daddy involved one.  SO last night he tried to feed her dinner.  First I was super stressed, he really didn't have an idea of the consistency food had to be at this stage or what foods were best to give her; he didn't know the right amount or which ones to feed her and which ones to let her self-feed.  I was also devastated to lose my bonding time with her; her meal-time and bath-time are ways I can feel that I am providing for her as her mommy even when I work during the day.  So there I was, wanting parental equality, needing parental equality but devastated (actually crying) over losing the special moments with my daughter that I have always cherished.  In the end, I went in and "helped" aka took over because DH hates it when I micromanage and when I'm sad.  I really need to get over the mommy guilt and relish each moment I do have with DLO knowing that I will always be her mommy and she will love me just as much whether I am a working mommy or a SAHM; easy to say, hard to do.

Piggies

Yup, on top of all the rest of the craziness in our lives, we decided to get piggies (what we call them to DLO).  We actually got some really nice Large Black pigs and are in the process of acquiring some Tamworths and actually breeding a few of them next winter.  We've done crazy things like build a "piggy house," made wallows, hauled loads of food (whoever said they eat 3-5% of their body weight is a liar...they eat more like 30-50% of their bw!) and water and generally just carry on as pig farmers.  That's on top of the big garden, 17 laying chickens, and our aspirations of a few dairy and beef cows.  I'm trying to remind myself, I will be a full-time, commuting medical student mommy in a few months but part of living way "up north" is enjoying getting to do things like be piggy farmers.  Pictures to follow....

Fear of the Fall....

At this point, the point of no return on my decision-making process has arrived.  Work won't really let me change my mind since they need to hire someone to replace me and without a job, I really have nothing better to do than go to medical school.  But everynight as I lay there trying to get back to sleep after another cuddle session with DLO, I try to calm the panic attacks that tell me "you're making the wrong decision!"  I am giving up a very good job and going back to school in a city 3 hours away from my family.  While you do not have to be present for every part of medical school, there will still be nights I will be away from my family.  I'm not sure I'm ready for that.  I'm not sure I can handle that.  I struggle with wondering how much it will impact DLO or if its just me that it will worry.  DH is amazing with her and I'm sure they will be just fine but I NEVER had plans to be an absent mother (ok, it's only for the occasional night or two a week...but still) and despite ALL of the reasons on why this decision is good for our family, the "in-the-moment" emotions of it tell me it might be one big terrible mistake.
I hope I look back and read this in several years to find I've over-reacted and everything went swimmingly but as a rather Type-A personality (shock, I know!) I can't plan or control or even foresee the impact this decision will have.  Frankly I'm just scared.  So here we go...

In as Long as Out

This weekend was BG's 9-month birthday.  It's crazy to think that she's now been in the world as long as she was in utero.  Seems like a big right of passage for her mama and really highlights just how long you are pregnant!  It also really mirrors the rapid growth during pregnancy.  Looking back at her birth and then monthly pictures it is stunning to see the rapid growth and development.  I'm not usually the sappy type but as I fed her yesterday, she was insistent that she wanted to drink water out of a glass like her mommy.  She still hasn't mastered drinking out of a cup because she still leaves her tongue on the outside but she would hand me the glass so she could watch me drink and then try it again herself.  Just a times back and forth and she figured out (with no prompting) that she had to pull her tongue in. It was a small moment but so stunning to me how intelligent she is and how quickly she is growing up. She's so damn determined to figure things out and picks things up so fast.  I love every minute with her and am so fortunate to have some extra vacation and days home with her before I head back to the classroom myself that I am trying to savor every minute.  Seems funny but I'm sure she'll be 9 and then 19 in the blink of an eye.  And that makes her mommy very very sad.  All I can say, I thought being a parent would be great but I had no comprehension on the joy that a child brings into one's life.  There is no doubt a lot of work involved but every minute is repaid a million times in the brightness they bring.

Mamava: Good for breastfeeding women?

I think the company itself has the right idea. Breastfeeding woman need a comfortable place to pump.  When only a dirty bathroom stall would be an option, these pods are great.  But at the same time, it gives others a new excuse to ask you not to breastfeed your child in public.  I was at an airport once being extremely discreet, sitting in a far corner, even using a nursing cover but refusing to go sit in a space pod to feed my daughter while waiting for a flight.  An airport employee walked over and said "you do know that there thing is for you to feed your child in?"  I couldn't decide if he was trying to help me or protect his own sensibilities.  Why should I have to go sit in "quarantine" so that my DLO can eat?  We don't make anyone go sit in quarantine to stuff their face with the big mac and large fries they grabbed down the way.  I also feel like it allows companies, businesses, etc to be lazy.  My place of employment just recently put in two lactation rooms but on the campus they are both located in a building that is a 10min walk for me.  It just isn't practical during a short class break for me to be able to utilize it.  I found an old locker room and pump in the shower.  Recently the building I am located in, installed a Mamava; nice, right?  But seriously?  They couldn't find a classroom or any small storage space they could convert into a lactation room?  They had to put this huge space pod in a busy area where everyone sees you pop in and then pop out.  I know I shouldn't feel awkward about it but I do.  And now, again, when I use my old locker room, anytime anyone hears/sees me, they're like, "you do know there'es a Mamava for that?" Yes I do.  And I choose to continue here and my apologies if it makes you uncomfortable!  Am I the only one who feels this way???

Good Daycare=Priceless

Priceless doesn't seem to do justice to how it absolutely changes everything to have good daycare.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I went through three daycares in three months with mounting anxiety and frequent panic attacks everytime i dropped DLO off.  I wanted to try a new one but didn't know if it was worse to try a new one and go through a big change or stay with sub-par.  So first off, I only had 3 weeks maternity leave.  Luckily for all of us, DH was also able to get 3 weeks paternity leave.  So with me fudging a few days of "working from home" and DH spreading out his leave we made it to 8 weeks with her at home with mom and dad.  Then, we were so thrilled and extremely grateful when both sets of grandparents stepped up and watched her a few days a week, so DH and I each took a day a week and the grandparents filled the rest.  That got us to the new year and 4 months old.  Grandparents could no longer help and it was time to go out into the real world with DLO :(.
Daycare #1: a small in-home daycare that seemed cozy and sweet.  Put the cons started surfacing VERY quickly.  First, (minor issue but issue nonetheless), the lady wore a noxious perfume that caused us to strip and scrub DLO and all her accessories everynight.  Second, anytime DLO cried, she fed her.  Not even kidding.  She would try milk first for every cry.  DLO is exclusively breastfed and this lady would go through 16+ oz in under 8 hours.  Even if I would drop her off late or pick her up early, we never got below 16oz in a day.  And the lady had the nerve to tell me that if my supply couldn't keep up, we should just accept I hard put in my best effort and move on to formula.  Daggers.  She also kept the babies in front of the TV.  And a couple times we came unannouced 30+ minutes early to find DLO already strapped into her carseat waiting for pick-up.  Two VERY long weeks and I was done.
Daycare #2: a large group daycare.  Highly ranked and rated, I had avoided it knowing it was so many kids in one room with lots of stimulation and less nurture time for babies.  They didn't watch TV and the ladies really did do an awesome job but they were definitely teetering on the edge of illegal ratio with 7-9 babies and only 3 caregivers.  And the other half of the room was the 1-3 year olds so it was very noisy all the time.  DLO, a light sleeper, never slept and came home completely wrecked.  Since she was one of the youngest, again she was often just moved from chair to swing to crib and back so the more mobile babies didn't trample her.  There was often much more crying before attention was given as well just because of the pure numbers.  It wasn't terrible but everyday I stayed with her as long as I could and raced out of work early to pick her up from baby prison.  The final straw really came when I walked in and one lady was rocking and feeding a baby with one arm and was holding a bottle over DLO who was in a bouncy chair falling asleep with her little neck and face strained up as high as she could go to latch and suck on the bottle.  To watch her sit alone and suck from a bottle like a little baby cow was too much for me to handle.  But again, pull her out and put her through the stress of a new daycare?  One that might be just as bed?

Then all good things in life intervened and I got a text from a lady I had called about in-home daycare.  When we first met her, I could tell she was a little nervous about starting in-home care but we hit it off immediately.  She just radiated warmth, kindness, and peace.  She's kinda a hippy which is exactly the values I have for my children.  Lydia started with her just a few days a week and for the first time, despite missing her like crazy, I could focus on my day and not be continually panicking that DLO was getting poor care.  Now the reverse is true, when I am home with her, I wonder if she secretly wishes I was at work!  :)  There is NOTHING, NOTHING as priceless as feeling comfortable with the person taking care of your child.  Awkwardly (for her at least), I've already asked her if she'd be up for caring for a DLO #2 if we started trying...cause if I have to go through all of that panic again, I might just wait a bit longer!

Babies in Medical School

My DH and I had our first daughter just a few months after I completed my PhD (no easy feat to finish while super pregnant and living alone as DH had moved ahead to new job).  At the time I was going on round 2 of medical school applications and in the meantime managed to land a full-time faculty position at a technical college.  I'm not sure if its inherent to technical school college that generally hires "experts in the field" (people who have decades of experience, ie as a RN, CNA, welder, etc) and then come and teach, but I found I was a super minority as a mother with a small child.  For example, I got THREE WEEKS of maternity leave, and they actually had the gall to call me after one week to get a firm date of my return.  I won't even go into the very dark thoughts I had, one week postpartum and staring down at my 1-week daughter...but I digress.  As things progressed over the next 6 months, I got accepted to multiple medical schools, continued to hate most aspects of my job more and more (minus the teaching part which somehow was a minor part, and my paycheck which was the nicest I had after spending the last 2 decades of my life in school), and started having thoughts about child #2.
The decision is "mostly" made that I will quit said current and hated job and start medical school in August.  But I am terrified by the leap into the unknown.  I won't have a paycheck, I won't be an "adult" anymore (I'll be a student again), I have no idea if I'll have tons or hardly any time to spend with my family, and we are even going with the crazy plan of having me "commute" 2hrs each way so DH can keep his paycheck and DLO (darling little one) can stay at her amazing daycare that took me three months, three tries, and millions of panic attacks to find.
So, am I crazy?  I want three more kids, but I also want to do well (enough) in medical school, and we're trying to keep our current home.  It all sounds crazy and unrealistic to me!
Part of me thinks that having more children in my current job would be just as hard if not harder than having them in medical school.  I only get 3 weeks paid maternity leave here and at least in medical school I'll have summer, winter, and spring breaks plus some open blocks for studying, interviewing, and vacation...a luxury not found in my current job.  I also think that while medical school is HARD, is it any harder than a very demanding, more than full-time job?  Or getting a biomedical PhD in 4 years (by working 60+ hours a week)?  Some people swear it is, others that it isn't.  It just kills me to not know for sure what it will be like.  It's tough to leave what is unknown, even if unliked for something that could potentially be even worse.  And at least financially, I know that will be the case.  There's is something comforting about being financially stable!  Eventually we'll get more than back there but those intervening years will be tough.
So if I could have my cake and eat it too and pregnancies went perfectly and I did super well in all my classes with the normal amount of effort: baby #2 between M1 and M2, baby #3 during M4, and baby #4 during the end of residency.  Yup, I'm crazy.  But I do know for sure that nothing is more important to me than family so one way or another, we'll have to make it work!

Failure of a mommy

I had my daughter and I got my ass back to work when she was 3 weeks old (stunningly difficult) and balanced a full-time, high-stress job and being a mother with ease.  Ok, not with any sort of ease but I got it done, I made it through each day.  I even got the occassional run in (I was an avid run prior to and through my pregnancy).  I lost all my baby weight asap and while my husband and housework definitely gets a bit neglected I thought I was doing ok.  I skipped out on postpartum, I accepted that I had to work, and just made it through each day spending every minute I did have with my daughter filling it with quality reading and snuggles.  I also told myself on days that were unbearably hard that things would just get easier as each day passed.
Now fastfoward a few months.  She's 5 months old now.  Still the utter joy and all good things in my life.  No one prepared me for how absolutely transcending being a mother was.  No one prepared me to also feel like I was failing at it miserably every minute of the day.  I have always prided myself at being the best in everything.  I was always the best student, hardest working employee, terrific wife, talented athelete, yada yada yada (do you hate me yet?).  But being a mother, there are not enough hours in the day or energy in my body to be good or feel successful at anything.  We're up too many times in the night to ever feel well-rested.  My high-stress job is now too high stress and I barely manage to meet my deadlines and fake it through the work I need to get done.  I cry everyday when I drop my daughter off at daycare (which I fondly call baby prison) because I know that she deserves a mom who would stay home with her and make sure she got the attention she needs and deserves, and don't even bring up my husband.  The poor man (who is the most amazing husband and father ever, really) is lucky if he gets a hug or a hello each day as I frantically race around trying to snuggle little one before I drop her at her prison and make it to my job in time to take on my boss and the ever-mounting work...and its the same at the end of the day.  I have essentially given up running.  Besides being so bone numbingly exhausted.  I just can't find the time and the stress of finding the time and then wasting precious physical energy to run and waste precious time that I could be with my daughter...well it just doesn't happen.  So in the end, things don't seem better.  They feel haungtingly terrible.  I feel like a failure in every aspect of my life.  I feel out-of-shape, dumpy, and  unnattractive.  I feel like it's lucky everyone at my job has low standards because most of the employees slide by so my "sliding by" is good enough to keep me from being fired but not good enough for me to not feel guilty everyday that I'm not putting a lot of effort into my job.  I feel like I am ruining my daughter's life by dropping her at baby prison everyday.  I feel like my husband is tired of a wife who is chronically tired and depressed because she feels like a failure and just wants a good wife snuggle and has to instead listen to me sob about baby prison every night.
I know I know.  I need to cut myself a break.  I need to accept that I'm doing the best I can.  I need to focus on the positives.  But sometimes knowing that and actually feeling it are so very very very different.