I am tired today. But at least I know why.
Partially out of guilt for failing to feed my guests properly, and partially as part of a desperate ploy to ensure that people invite us over this spring so I don't have to cook, we're having guests for dinner tonight. More guests than fit at the table, to be precise.
Well, it's been a busy week so when JD asked whether I minded if he went out with friends yesterday night, I told him not at all. I planned to spend the evening in the library working. I asked him to be home at midnight, and he very responsibly walked in the door at 5 to midnight. What I did not remember to tell him was that I needed him to be sober enough to monitor and lovingly nurse an apple pie which I had conveniently put into the oven at 10 to midnight after running home from the library. See, we have a very tiny, finicky NYC oven and it takes a good deal of attention and fiddling to produce anything but ashes. And JD was not in any type of state to be left in charge of my pie, so I was up till 1:15 am or so watching it. I then had to get up this morning to cook the rest of dinner before I went to campus. At least we'll have plenty of food for the weekend.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
In which we broach that topic and survive
Note: This may be a hard topic to read about. Please don't read this if you are not in a good place to listen to the genuine fears of a pregnant infertile.
I am still exhausted, but feeling a good deal more optimistic about the next 2 months. Even with the holiday, I managed to get a good deal done. I actually landed up sending my poor guests out to do the grocery shopping, but as a result we didn't starve. I also managed to bake some nice things for them to eat (which resulted in my first 'too high' blood sugar level yesterday night, but I think that's to be expected after several bites of a dessert ...)
And this morning JD and I dashed out of the house at 8 am to tour a child care facility. The tour and daycare were uneventful and although this place has a few clear drawbacks it would be fine to cover the 6 or so month gap in our absurd plans for the next 2 years (remember, I need to find 4 different daycare situations in 3 cities on 2 different continents in the next month - I'm trying not to sweat the details).
But as a result of our tour this morning, we finally had that conversation. The one in which we actually discussed the enormous, emotional, expensive decision we have both avoided mentioning since April (and that we obviously cannot genuinely make until we are sure that the wonderbaby will be healthy and not need anything above and beyond the usual love and attention. Should we have a child with special needs that will obviously radically change our plans).
But I asked JD on the way out when he though we'd be heading back to the fertility clinic. I know, I know - you're thinking that I am an absurd, whiny idiot. Here I am complaining about every little hang up of this pregnancy, the tremendous cost of daycare, the challenges of being apart, the risk that this baby will significantly limit my career options, and I'm already thinking about doing it all over again. But the truth is that we need to plan daycare and location and expenses for the next 2+ years, and I wanted to know what JD was thinking. And as unlikely as it is to matter in any way, I wanted to discuss whether we would be using birth control come January (there is some evidence that hormonal changes during pregnancy can temporarily limit the effect of PCOs, but that was never my only diagnosis) and I don't want to commit to being elsewhere if JD thinks we might want to be doing another round of treatments.
Oh, and the fact that the only way our life works at all is if I plan out all the details in my head in advance.
And JD's answer was everything you would expect: reasonable, well-thought out, cautious. He basically said that he was reserving judgement until he saw what life was like for us (read: me) with an infant.
The thing is that his answer makes me really nervous. I don't want to be worried about 'covering up' how hard the first few months with an infant will be. I don't want to have to paint a rosy picture of the transition if it's awful. And I know that's not exactly what JD is asking me to do, but that would clearly help. In my mind everything we have been through (which has been almost nothing, really) will be worth it to have a daughter. And it would be worth doing several times over to have another child. Even if it involves sleepless months and colic and more doctor's appointments and all the 'worst case scenarios' we might still face, it will be worth it. So in my sleep-deprived, emotional state JD's rational statement doesn't exactly give me the warm fuzzies, but on the other hand it's certainly not a refusal to consider heading back next January (the first time we'll be back together again after I recover from the birth, so basically the earliest possible date). So that's where we are now, and I really don't expect us to discuss it again until the end of next year.
I am still exhausted, but feeling a good deal more optimistic about the next 2 months. Even with the holiday, I managed to get a good deal done. I actually landed up sending my poor guests out to do the grocery shopping, but as a result we didn't starve. I also managed to bake some nice things for them to eat (which resulted in my first 'too high' blood sugar level yesterday night, but I think that's to be expected after several bites of a dessert ...)
And this morning JD and I dashed out of the house at 8 am to tour a child care facility. The tour and daycare were uneventful and although this place has a few clear drawbacks it would be fine to cover the 6 or so month gap in our absurd plans for the next 2 years (remember, I need to find 4 different daycare situations in 3 cities on 2 different continents in the next month - I'm trying not to sweat the details).
But as a result of our tour this morning, we finally had that conversation. The one in which we actually discussed the enormous, emotional, expensive decision we have both avoided mentioning since April (and that we obviously cannot genuinely make until we are sure that the wonderbaby will be healthy and not need anything above and beyond the usual love and attention. Should we have a child with special needs that will obviously radically change our plans).
But I asked JD on the way out when he though we'd be heading back to the fertility clinic. I know, I know - you're thinking that I am an absurd, whiny idiot. Here I am complaining about every little hang up of this pregnancy, the tremendous cost of daycare, the challenges of being apart, the risk that this baby will significantly limit my career options, and I'm already thinking about doing it all over again. But the truth is that we need to plan daycare and location and expenses for the next 2+ years, and I wanted to know what JD was thinking. And as unlikely as it is to matter in any way, I wanted to discuss whether we would be using birth control come January (there is some evidence that hormonal changes during pregnancy can temporarily limit the effect of PCOs, but that was never my only diagnosis) and I don't want to commit to being elsewhere if JD thinks we might want to be doing another round of treatments.
Oh, and the fact that the only way our life works at all is if I plan out all the details in my head in advance.
And JD's answer was everything you would expect: reasonable, well-thought out, cautious. He basically said that he was reserving judgement until he saw what life was like for us (read: me) with an infant.
The thing is that his answer makes me really nervous. I don't want to be worried about 'covering up' how hard the first few months with an infant will be. I don't want to have to paint a rosy picture of the transition if it's awful. And I know that's not exactly what JD is asking me to do, but that would clearly help. In my mind everything we have been through (which has been almost nothing, really) will be worth it to have a daughter. And it would be worth doing several times over to have another child. Even if it involves sleepless months and colic and more doctor's appointments and all the 'worst case scenarios' we might still face, it will be worth it. So in my sleep-deprived, emotional state JD's rational statement doesn't exactly give me the warm fuzzies, but on the other hand it's certainly not a refusal to consider heading back next January (the first time we'll be back together again after I recover from the birth, so basically the earliest possible date). So that's where we are now, and I really don't expect us to discuss it again until the end of next year.
Monday, October 13, 2008
a moment of realization
I don't think that I suddenly started feeling tired, grumpy and miserable because of iron deficiency 2 weeks ago. I have after all been anemic since the first trimester.
I think that I started feeling so low energy when I had to cut back my carbs because of my quasi-GD diagnosis. After my experience last year (with a no-carb diet thanks to my fertility clinic, for any new readers) it's clear that my body loves carbs and that I'm miserable without them. And that I lose weight very, very quickly when I cut back on carbs (I am currently at my pre-fertility treatment starting weight because I lost so much weight on the no-carb diet, more than 20 lbs in under 3 months). And I am still losing weight.
I think I may be counting carbs more strictly then the GD clinic would - I count each glass of milk as a carb (they are high in sugar) as well as all my dairy, etc. But still I'm having at least 3-4 carbs with each meal and I'm hungry all the time. And grumpy. I called my mother at work who told me to up my carbs and to stop losing weight (my midwife is of course unconcerned, as she is about most things). So I'm going to try that for the next couple of days and test my blood sugar a lot more often to see what happens.
But I'd really just love to start feeling good again, or to at least be sure that I'm miserable because of some combination of hormones and baby growth, as opposed to a problem in my diet.
I think that I started feeling so low energy when I had to cut back my carbs because of my quasi-GD diagnosis. After my experience last year (with a no-carb diet thanks to my fertility clinic, for any new readers) it's clear that my body loves carbs and that I'm miserable without them. And that I lose weight very, very quickly when I cut back on carbs (I am currently at my pre-fertility treatment starting weight because I lost so much weight on the no-carb diet, more than 20 lbs in under 3 months). And I am still losing weight.
I think I may be counting carbs more strictly then the GD clinic would - I count each glass of milk as a carb (they are high in sugar) as well as all my dairy, etc. But still I'm having at least 3-4 carbs with each meal and I'm hungry all the time. And grumpy. I called my mother at work who told me to up my carbs and to stop losing weight (my midwife is of course unconcerned, as she is about most things). So I'm going to try that for the next couple of days and test my blood sugar a lot more often to see what happens.
But I'd really just love to start feeling good again, or to at least be sure that I'm miserable because of some combination of hormones and baby growth, as opposed to a problem in my diet.
midday Monday
I just turned in some seriously mediocre work (according to JD, my harshest critic) and now it's almost 1 pm on Monday and ... Sukkot starts at sundown! And I have guests coming. And a meeting later today. And not so much as milk, let alone ingredients for 3 full meals, left in my apartment because JD was gone all weekend and I've been very much enjoying making him lug all the groceries home.
And in addition to JD and my guests, I'm pretty sure my mother knows I haven't so much as thought about what I'm serving this holiday (that would be tomorrow lunch, tomorrow dinner, and Wednesday lunch, at a minimum and we might need a back-up for our sketchy-invite tonight) because she's e-mailed twice to 'compare recipes' (which is to say, she knows I haven't started).
But a good 20 minute nap at my desk this morning will hopefully get me through.
And in addition to JD and my guests, I'm pretty sure my mother knows I haven't so much as thought about what I'm serving this holiday (that would be tomorrow lunch, tomorrow dinner, and Wednesday lunch, at a minimum and we might need a back-up for our sketchy-invite tonight) because she's e-mailed twice to 'compare recipes' (which is to say, she knows I haven't started).
But a good 20 minute nap at my desk this morning will hopefully get me through.
a little reality check
Well, it's good to know we might be able to afford daycare in Europe ... if we can find it. The (expensive) agency I wrote to that does daycare placements sent me all their forms (very, very hard to fill out for a yet unborn and unnamed infant, but anyway) with a nice little note reminding me that 'placements can take up to a year because daycares usually have waitlists of about a year' and 'sometimes longer for infants.'
Should be fun.
Should be fun.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
all in perspective
Is it crazy that I think $1,600 per month of quasi-full-time daycare (something like 9 to 5, but they have a lot of national holidays in the country I'm moving to) is cheap? It definitely beats NYC.
Add to that $200 per month in health insurance for the baby, which of course won't even cover our medical costs abroad.
About $1000 every time I fly back to NYC to visit JD.
And somehow, incredibly, I think we can afford this. [And just maybe save enough to head back to the ol' fertility clinic in the next 2-3 years].
Add to that $200 per month in health insurance for the baby, which of course won't even cover our medical costs abroad.
About $1000 every time I fly back to NYC to visit JD.
And somehow, incredibly, I think we can afford this. [And just maybe save enough to head back to the ol' fertility clinic in the next 2-3 years].
Saturday, October 11, 2008
NYC Entertainment
I got my bugaboo. Not exactly in the color I wanted (bright green: JD is thrilled. He thinks it's a very masculine-looking color, although in truth I think he just liked the price), and with a large and rather distinctive stain on the seat, but, um, that's where the baby is supposed to sit so nobody but me will ever see it ... oh, and did I mention I paid $250 - accessories included? Sounds fabulous, right?
Except, of course, for the need to immediately pick up said find between the end of Yom Kippur and the beginning of shabbos about 1 hour and 15 minutes away from my current residence via the subway. And on a busy Friday. So I ran from my meeting and made great time on the way out there, only to be met with absurd NYC subway traffic and crowding on the way back to my apartment. All while racing to get home for shabbos and carrying a very heavy, and empty, stroller through Friday rush hour.
To say I got a lot of unwanted attention would be an understatement.
But most surprisingly I also had some very pleasant conversations. A woman with a big bouquet of flowers asked if she could rest them on the stroller (it was all folded up because of the crowding) and then asked if the baby to go with the stroller happened to be the one in my tummy. Not a great start, but she seemd friendly. We proceeded to talk quite a bit and it turned out that her daughter's bat-mitzvah is tomorrow, that she gave birth in the birthing center we plan to use (and was happy to talk about her experience 13 years ago there with a complete stranger on the subway) and she also talked about the financial crisis and her fears about her job and said something which I thought was really nice. She said that her daughter's bat-mitzvah and my bump were both 'Optimistic statements about the state of the world' in a way that made it clear that she was proud of my decision to have a baby. I really like the phrasing because one of JD's main objections to having a baby (and fertility treatments as a result) was a deep pessimism about the environment and a fear about bringing a child into such an uncertain world. I understand his point, but I think my religious faith that having children is a good thing, no matter what the state of the world, always overwhelmed those fears. But I really liked her phrasing.
My second long conversation was with a 20-something hipster-looking guy. Not exactly who I usually chat with on the subway but I was packed into the corner and trying desperately to keep people from elbowing the bump (5 pm rush hour leaving Times Square on Friday afternoon when Shabbos starts at 6:10 pm is never fun). And of course, he started out by asking me my due date which is one of my biggest pet peeves (I find that a bit personal to be asking, but I think it's just me. And I never, ever give out the exact date. I have thus far told only JD and my mother, at both of their insistence). But, we then proceeded to have a long conversation about baby names and this kid actually got off at my stop and carried the stroller up all the stairs and helped me reassemble it so I could walk home (while pushing my empty stroller to the endless comment of the people I passed. Ok, I get it. It's weird. But lots of daycares around me don't let you leave your stroller when you drop your child and so it's not all that unusual to see moms pushing empty strollers home. And yes, people buy strollers before they have babies to put in them and then take them home).
Oh, and JD couldn't go pick up the stroller for me because he's away for the weekend. And I miss him a lot and wish he would come home. And we're having guests for sukkot so it'll be crazy when he gets back.
Except, of course, for the need to immediately pick up said find between the end of Yom Kippur and the beginning of shabbos about 1 hour and 15 minutes away from my current residence via the subway. And on a busy Friday. So I ran from my meeting and made great time on the way out there, only to be met with absurd NYC subway traffic and crowding on the way back to my apartment. All while racing to get home for shabbos and carrying a very heavy, and empty, stroller through Friday rush hour.
To say I got a lot of unwanted attention would be an understatement.
But most surprisingly I also had some very pleasant conversations. A woman with a big bouquet of flowers asked if she could rest them on the stroller (it was all folded up because of the crowding) and then asked if the baby to go with the stroller happened to be the one in my tummy. Not a great start, but she seemd friendly. We proceeded to talk quite a bit and it turned out that her daughter's bat-mitzvah is tomorrow, that she gave birth in the birthing center we plan to use (and was happy to talk about her experience 13 years ago there with a complete stranger on the subway) and she also talked about the financial crisis and her fears about her job and said something which I thought was really nice. She said that her daughter's bat-mitzvah and my bump were both 'Optimistic statements about the state of the world' in a way that made it clear that she was proud of my decision to have a baby. I really like the phrasing because one of JD's main objections to having a baby (and fertility treatments as a result) was a deep pessimism about the environment and a fear about bringing a child into such an uncertain world. I understand his point, but I think my religious faith that having children is a good thing, no matter what the state of the world, always overwhelmed those fears. But I really liked her phrasing.
My second long conversation was with a 20-something hipster-looking guy. Not exactly who I usually chat with on the subway but I was packed into the corner and trying desperately to keep people from elbowing the bump (5 pm rush hour leaving Times Square on Friday afternoon when Shabbos starts at 6:10 pm is never fun). And of course, he started out by asking me my due date which is one of my biggest pet peeves (I find that a bit personal to be asking, but I think it's just me. And I never, ever give out the exact date. I have thus far told only JD and my mother, at both of their insistence). But, we then proceeded to have a long conversation about baby names and this kid actually got off at my stop and carried the stroller up all the stairs and helped me reassemble it so I could walk home (while pushing my empty stroller to the endless comment of the people I passed. Ok, I get it. It's weird. But lots of daycares around me don't let you leave your stroller when you drop your child and so it's not all that unusual to see moms pushing empty strollers home. And yes, people buy strollers before they have babies to put in them and then take them home).
Oh, and JD couldn't go pick up the stroller for me because he's away for the weekend. And I miss him a lot and wish he would come home. And we're having guests for sukkot so it'll be crazy when he gets back.
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