It's 4 am. I'm on the couch listening to the fusspot cough. Shouldn't be a big deal except that I just read 2 blog posts about toddlers who had to be rushed to the hospital for breathing issues. And while the fusspot was her normal, active self for most of the day she also had several distinctly unusual and inflated meltdowns over little things like not being let out of the stroller or having a second cookie confiscated. I really hope that she's better in the morning.
In more entertaining medical news, we yet again learn that Dr. Google is only as sophisticated as the user. I have spent the last 2 weeks googling some variation of "arthritis in pregnancy" despite JD's weak assurances that they probably aren't all that linked given that one is a degenerative disease associated with age ... See I've been waking up with my hands clenched and in pain and having a good deal of trouble getting them to work either early in the morning (did I mention that a large part of my work right now is data entry?) or late at night (trying to finish up a baby quilt. Nothing 1m x 1m should take this long ...). So I kept on googling arthritis, until a friend quietly suggested that the correct term might be "carpal tunnel." So yeah, count me in for excruciating carpal tunnel, although thankfully when it's pregnancy related it is supposed to clear up shortly post-partum.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
An update of sorts
Thank you all for your kind comments. I think that what really freaked me out is that I was feeling so overwhelmed and miserable, and in truth I was just coming off of a rather relaxed weekend where JD was home (and not working) for most of it, where we ran through a large segment of our to-do list, etc. We even had two quasi-dates, meaning that the fusspot fell asleep while we were out running errands and I immediately made JD drop everything and go drink hot chocolate with me. We do live a wild life, after all.
Which really makes me think that this is probably something hormonal. I am not actually dealing with anything more than usual, and neither am I feeling all that physically unwell (despite a few weird late pg symptoms like arthritis-style pain in my hands (but no swelling?), swelling elsewhere, insomnia, nothing too critical). I did schedule a counseling appointment for later this week, and also acupuncture again (which handily comes with a massage before the whole needles-in-my-feet part).
And I am really trying to focus on the positive: a good NST yesterday made even better by a free-super-sized Jamba Juice afterwards, lovely snow this morning followed by warm weather in the afternoon, just about to take the fusspot off to her "dance" class ...
In fact, the only major thing left on our pre-baby list is to find a name. And project which seems to have stalled completely. More on that later, but as per the request of my non-blogging but endlessly supportive Texas reader, a belly shot at 34 weeks. I'm pretty sure this counts as "showing":
Which really makes me think that this is probably something hormonal. I am not actually dealing with anything more than usual, and neither am I feeling all that physically unwell (despite a few weird late pg symptoms like arthritis-style pain in my hands (but no swelling?), swelling elsewhere, insomnia, nothing too critical). I did schedule a counseling appointment for later this week, and also acupuncture again (which handily comes with a massage before the whole needles-in-my-feet part).
And I am really trying to focus on the positive: a good NST yesterday made even better by a free-super-sized Jamba Juice afterwards, lovely snow this morning followed by warm weather in the afternoon, just about to take the fusspot off to her "dance" class ...
In fact, the only major thing left on our pre-baby list is to find a name. And project which seems to have stalled completely. More on that later, but as per the request of my non-blogging but endlessly supportive Texas reader, a belly shot at 34 weeks. I'm pretty sure this counts as "showing":
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Another doom and gloom post
A dear internet-friend wrote a long post about her children's non-sleep habit (you know I love you) and I was thinking about that and how my usual advice is simply: if it works for you, it's fine. So if you're kids aren't sleeping, or aren't sleeping alone, or whatnot, and you're ok with it, fine. After all, I nursed the fusspot to sleep for every nap and bedtime until almost 17 months ...
Which is all to preface the fact that it has struck me that my life is quite simply not working for me at the moment. Not only did I snap twice at JD this weekend (and yes, I consider asking where we store the collander sufficient provocation. The man prides himself on doing a lot around the house and it was exactly where it belongs on the shelf ...) but I also snapped at the fusspot which honestly never, ever happens. It's not that I'm a perfect mother by any means and I certainly get grumpy or pissed at her, but I don't snap. That's in part because of my childhood experiences, but also possibly because of the years I spent babysitting in the big city and convinced that everyone mother had a "nanny cam" on and was watching it selectively (and some of them did, and were, and someday I'll tell the story of what happened the one and only time I ever seriously hurt a child ... hurt a child such that there were 4 distinct finger marks and 1 thumb bruise exactly my size on her arm, but needless to say it all worked out for the best and scared me far more than the kid).
So yeah, not doing well. Let's just summarize: not eating well/enough (in all seriousness, who loses weight in the middle of the 3rd trimester?), not sleeping well (and waking up far more from stress than any physical ailment), not exercising enough, stressed about work, worried that the stress will affect the baby, the usual. And I just don't feel like I am getting the support I need and I'm done trying to pretend that I am wonder-woman so that no one sees the cracks. Especially so that JD doesn't see the cracks (he has currently fled to the basement bar to watch football, a sport he has absolutely no interest in, to escape my wrath).
One thing that needs to be improved is the fusspot's bedtime routine. She's great with the routine, she cheerfully stands next to her crib when I say bedtime all ready to be placed in her crib, lies down ... and then proceeds to fuss/yell/stand up for a good 1-2 hours every night. Our current routine involves staying with her for about a half hour, then leaving her with a CD and the door open. Except that our apartment is tiny so I feel like I can't even take a phone call until she's asleep, and also her CD player broke (blah blah blah: my in-laws bought her one for her birthday but refused to pay shipping so it's at their house and JD and I are too cheap to buy her another one when she has one ... blah blah blah) so I leave my computer in her room and can't work for that time, or I go sit in her room and have her yell at me. So in a fit of anger tonight I decided we would just suffer through another attempt at CIO (it does work for other people, after all), confiscated my computer, shut the door, and let her scream ... for about 2 minutes until JD rescued her and brought her to our bed. See, I put the fusspot to sleep 6 nights a week when I am alone, but neither JD nor my in-laws see any point in the oft-praised "consistency" and they simply sit with her until she's totally asleep. Even if it takes 3 hours. Which you can do when you only put the baby to sleep one night a week. So yeah, beats me what to do. Even with music she can take 2 hours to fall asleep, and she obviously yells more at me than other people (which is normal, I know). But this weekend she's been sleeping in until 9 am or so, which makes me think that she's really not getting enough sleep during the week when we have to wake her to take her to daycare. So there's that.
And then there's the whole supposed-to-be-working-full-time despite only 30 hours of daycare plus 3 doctors appointments this week and feeling exhausted ... same old, same old. Honestly, this week between the 3 doctors appointments, 2 evening work events from 6-9 pm, and possibly not taking the fusspot to daycare on Friday at all, I have no idea how I could even get in 20 hours of work during daylight hours. Let alone wanting to spend a half hour every morning cooking some type of reasonable dinner so that we don't just rely on scrambled eggs, bagels, or boxed mac and cheese for dinner every night.
I know plenty of people will say things like "Of course it's hard" and the like, but the real problem is that I always handle all of this and more (I mean, at least JD is in the same city at the moment), and I do it with a good deal more grace than I am at the moment. The real problem is that my calm seems to be gone, and I am so incredibly stressed that I can't fall asleep at night even when I'm exhausted. So I am going to see if I can get in to counseling tomorrow, but other than that not entirely sure what to do. I really wish I could schedule an hour long walk at some point in the afternoon, but it's quite simply too cold to keep the fusspot in her stroller that long given that she currently refuses to wear gloves, it's too cold and not all that safe for me to go alone by the time JD gets home at 10 or 11 pm, and I really don't have the time during the day ...
I am worried about making it through the next month without making both JD and the fusspot stressed. I am worried about really bonding with/enjoying a newborn when I am quite this stressed. I am worried about the stress affecting the baby, or sending me into pre-term labor (the fusspot was already early, so everyone I talk to keeps reminding me that it could be "any day" and I know that 34.5 weeks would be ok eventually, but it's hardly ideal). I need to figure out a way to eat real food, to get some exercise despite the weather (and no, I have no gym membership at the moment and don't really see this as a reasonable time to join), to get work done during the day, and to relax. I am sticking with my motto for the year, which is that I alone am responsible for my own happiness, and I'm hardly imagining that any of my long-time friends will somehow leap to my aid, so that's out.
But at least my dear readers assured me last week that this was an ok place to vent.
Which is all to preface the fact that it has struck me that my life is quite simply not working for me at the moment. Not only did I snap twice at JD this weekend (and yes, I consider asking where we store the collander sufficient provocation. The man prides himself on doing a lot around the house and it was exactly where it belongs on the shelf ...) but I also snapped at the fusspot which honestly never, ever happens. It's not that I'm a perfect mother by any means and I certainly get grumpy or pissed at her, but I don't snap. That's in part because of my childhood experiences, but also possibly because of the years I spent babysitting in the big city and convinced that everyone mother had a "nanny cam" on and was watching it selectively (and some of them did, and were, and someday I'll tell the story of what happened the one and only time I ever seriously hurt a child ... hurt a child such that there were 4 distinct finger marks and 1 thumb bruise exactly my size on her arm, but needless to say it all worked out for the best and scared me far more than the kid).
So yeah, not doing well. Let's just summarize: not eating well/enough (in all seriousness, who loses weight in the middle of the 3rd trimester?), not sleeping well (and waking up far more from stress than any physical ailment), not exercising enough, stressed about work, worried that the stress will affect the baby, the usual. And I just don't feel like I am getting the support I need and I'm done trying to pretend that I am wonder-woman so that no one sees the cracks. Especially so that JD doesn't see the cracks (he has currently fled to the basement bar to watch football, a sport he has absolutely no interest in, to escape my wrath).
One thing that needs to be improved is the fusspot's bedtime routine. She's great with the routine, she cheerfully stands next to her crib when I say bedtime all ready to be placed in her crib, lies down ... and then proceeds to fuss/yell/stand up for a good 1-2 hours every night. Our current routine involves staying with her for about a half hour, then leaving her with a CD and the door open. Except that our apartment is tiny so I feel like I can't even take a phone call until she's asleep, and also her CD player broke (blah blah blah: my in-laws bought her one for her birthday but refused to pay shipping so it's at their house and JD and I are too cheap to buy her another one when she has one ... blah blah blah) so I leave my computer in her room and can't work for that time, or I go sit in her room and have her yell at me. So in a fit of anger tonight I decided we would just suffer through another attempt at CIO (it does work for other people, after all), confiscated my computer, shut the door, and let her scream ... for about 2 minutes until JD rescued her and brought her to our bed. See, I put the fusspot to sleep 6 nights a week when I am alone, but neither JD nor my in-laws see any point in the oft-praised "consistency" and they simply sit with her until she's totally asleep. Even if it takes 3 hours. Which you can do when you only put the baby to sleep one night a week. So yeah, beats me what to do. Even with music she can take 2 hours to fall asleep, and she obviously yells more at me than other people (which is normal, I know). But this weekend she's been sleeping in until 9 am or so, which makes me think that she's really not getting enough sleep during the week when we have to wake her to take her to daycare. So there's that.
And then there's the whole supposed-to-be-working-full-time despite only 30 hours of daycare plus 3 doctors appointments this week and feeling exhausted ... same old, same old. Honestly, this week between the 3 doctors appointments, 2 evening work events from 6-9 pm, and possibly not taking the fusspot to daycare on Friday at all, I have no idea how I could even get in 20 hours of work during daylight hours. Let alone wanting to spend a half hour every morning cooking some type of reasonable dinner so that we don't just rely on scrambled eggs, bagels, or boxed mac and cheese for dinner every night.
I know plenty of people will say things like "Of course it's hard" and the like, but the real problem is that I always handle all of this and more (I mean, at least JD is in the same city at the moment), and I do it with a good deal more grace than I am at the moment. The real problem is that my calm seems to be gone, and I am so incredibly stressed that I can't fall asleep at night even when I'm exhausted. So I am going to see if I can get in to counseling tomorrow, but other than that not entirely sure what to do. I really wish I could schedule an hour long walk at some point in the afternoon, but it's quite simply too cold to keep the fusspot in her stroller that long given that she currently refuses to wear gloves, it's too cold and not all that safe for me to go alone by the time JD gets home at 10 or 11 pm, and I really don't have the time during the day ...
I am worried about making it through the next month without making both JD and the fusspot stressed. I am worried about really bonding with/enjoying a newborn when I am quite this stressed. I am worried about the stress affecting the baby, or sending me into pre-term labor (the fusspot was already early, so everyone I talk to keeps reminding me that it could be "any day" and I know that 34.5 weeks would be ok eventually, but it's hardly ideal). I need to figure out a way to eat real food, to get some exercise despite the weather (and no, I have no gym membership at the moment and don't really see this as a reasonable time to join), to get work done during the day, and to relax. I am sticking with my motto for the year, which is that I alone am responsible for my own happiness, and I'm hardly imagining that any of my long-time friends will somehow leap to my aid, so that's out.
But at least my dear readers assured me last week that this was an ok place to vent.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
And now an entirely inappropriate topic for this blog
in very little letters: birth control.
I actually do think that in my large, stressed, grumbly state at the moment I am probably going to make a better decision regarding this particular issue than in the delightful post-partum amnesia about childbirth and pregnancy, while snuggling a spoiled-milk-smelling newborn (and yes, in my fantasy the fusspot is playing alone quietly on the living room floor).
And hence I will be upfront about the problem: I am leaning towards ... well ... the nada option. And JD is too, although for quite different reasons.
To review: my chances of a "unassisted" conception are rather low. When we first started this project I was told by 3 separate clinics that my chances were "practically zero." I have after all ovulated at most three times in my life, and most likely only twice. And with 2 pregnancies thus far, that both makes me the luckiest infertile in the world and also not particularly likely to turn into an urban myth.
However, pregnancy does change things for some infertiles, and I seem to fall in that incredible category. So while the fusspot took multiple canceled cycles and injectables, the bargain baby took very little intervention. And there are even decent theories about why that was. To start, my diagnosis is severe PCOs and also a highly unusual clinically high co.rti.sol but not Cus.hi.ng's syndrome or a tumor (oh yes, I did have more than one MRI as part of my diagnosis). Sharp and rapid weight loss seems to help a lot with the first factor for me, and nursing with the second. With the fusspot, my clinic put me on a crazy no carb (and I do mean no carb) diet, aka the "egg diet," which made me lose at least 10 lbs a month. The theory was that rapid weight loss can improve egg quality, and whenever my weight dropped too low I was supposed to take a month off to "bulk up" again. Such fun (for the record, I am plump but not overweight so there was actually a fear of my getting too skinny if I lost more than 30 lbs. My BMI was in the 'normal' range when we started all of the fun). With the bargain baby I lost 30 lbs in a month thanks to a travel bug and while starting to wean, and then got pregnant exactly 6 days after going in-patient to treat aforementioned bug. And as for the other hormonal issue, all signs indicate that nursing actually helps. A lot.
In short, it actually seems possible that I could conceive sans fertility clinic in the future if I both manage to nurse and drop a lot of weight rapidly.
And while I logically know that responsible working adults engage in "family planning" of some sort, 99% of me wants to shout "NOT FAIR!" It's just not fair to ask the infertile woman who wants more children, and honestly could arrange her life to both maintain employment and support them in an emergency, to use birth control. And since JD is entirely uninterested in being in charge of this issue himself and also convinced that is is unnecessary (not only due to the above mentioned medical issues but also the usual "issues" surrounding co-sleeping and nursing. All you nursing women who have a normal se.x drive, we do envy you), the burden falls on me. And a tiny, irresponsible little voice asks: what if this is our chance? What if being responsible adults makes us miss out on that one miniscule window of opportunity that might just be out there? But then the responsible part of me asks how I could possibly handle doing this again next year when I am so terribly tired and grumpy and overwhelmed at the moment (not to mention still severely anemic and likely to only get worse ...), and more importantly if "a miracle" could possibly be fair to either my husband or the fusspot?
And hence, I ask you, dear internet friends/psychos, how you made your decision whatever it might have been?
I actually do think that in my large, stressed, grumbly state at the moment I am probably going to make a better decision regarding this particular issue than in the delightful post-partum amnesia about childbirth and pregnancy, while snuggling a spoiled-milk-smelling newborn (and yes, in my fantasy the fusspot is playing alone quietly on the living room floor).
And hence I will be upfront about the problem: I am leaning towards ... well ... the nada option. And JD is too, although for quite different reasons.
To review: my chances of a "unassisted" conception are rather low. When we first started this project I was told by 3 separate clinics that my chances were "practically zero." I have after all ovulated at most three times in my life, and most likely only twice. And with 2 pregnancies thus far, that both makes me the luckiest infertile in the world and also not particularly likely to turn into an urban myth.
However, pregnancy does change things for some infertiles, and I seem to fall in that incredible category. So while the fusspot took multiple canceled cycles and injectables, the bargain baby took very little intervention. And there are even decent theories about why that was. To start, my diagnosis is severe PCOs and also a highly unusual clinically high co.rti.sol but not Cus.hi.ng's syndrome or a tumor (oh yes, I did have more than one MRI as part of my diagnosis). Sharp and rapid weight loss seems to help a lot with the first factor for me, and nursing with the second. With the fusspot, my clinic put me on a crazy no carb (and I do mean no carb) diet, aka the "egg diet," which made me lose at least 10 lbs a month. The theory was that rapid weight loss can improve egg quality, and whenever my weight dropped too low I was supposed to take a month off to "bulk up" again. Such fun (for the record, I am plump but not overweight so there was actually a fear of my getting too skinny if I lost more than 30 lbs. My BMI was in the 'normal' range when we started all of the fun). With the bargain baby I lost 30 lbs in a month thanks to a travel bug and while starting to wean, and then got pregnant exactly 6 days after going in-patient to treat aforementioned bug. And as for the other hormonal issue, all signs indicate that nursing actually helps. A lot.
In short, it actually seems possible that I could conceive sans fertility clinic in the future if I both manage to nurse and drop a lot of weight rapidly.
And while I logically know that responsible working adults engage in "family planning" of some sort, 99% of me wants to shout "NOT FAIR!" It's just not fair to ask the infertile woman who wants more children, and honestly could arrange her life to both maintain employment and support them in an emergency, to use birth control. And since JD is entirely uninterested in being in charge of this issue himself and also convinced that is is unnecessary (not only due to the above mentioned medical issues but also the usual "issues" surrounding co-sleeping and nursing. All you nursing women who have a normal se.x drive, we do envy you), the burden falls on me. And a tiny, irresponsible little voice asks: what if this is our chance? What if being responsible adults makes us miss out on that one miniscule window of opportunity that might just be out there? But then the responsible part of me asks how I could possibly handle doing this again next year when I am so terribly tired and grumpy and overwhelmed at the moment (not to mention still severely anemic and likely to only get worse ...), and more importantly if "a miracle" could possibly be fair to either my husband or the fusspot?
And hence, I ask you, dear internet friends/psychos, how you made your decision whatever it might have been?
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Rainy day, gloomy subject
I don't know if it's the weather or the long awake stretches at night or just working through the long to-do list around the house, but I have been spending a lot of time over the past few weeks thinking about friendship.
Maybe my expectations are too high, maybe the couples we know who are truly attached at the hip and couldn't imagine needing anyone else have it right (long-time readers are probably well aware that JD and I despite being quite happily married are the anti-thesis of this, and both very much enjoy our independence), maybe I'm really doing something wrong, but it has just struck me recently how much it sucks to be quite this pregnant with a toddler in tow and no best friend in the country. I know that I am exceedingly lucky to have several very close friends who I am sure I will be in touch with in 10 years ... who just all happen to live outside the U.S. and thus are not particularly easy to reach. But when I am having a bad day, there's no one I can call at night except my husband who is usually busy at work.
There is certainly no one who is going to call and just check how I am doing. And I guess that's what has been bothering me recently. My close friends are too busy with their own families and living abroad and time differences, etc. get in the way and my local friends are mostly just acquaintances who will certainly ask "how are you?" when we run into each other on the street, but they're not going to go out of their way to check in on me. And mostly, I'm fine. But there are those occasional days when I am tired or overwhelmed or like last night when I snap at the fusspot (and it retrospect I was entirely in the wrong. She kept telling me that she'd peed and I kept telling her to go to bed and stop trying to stall, never thinking that she had managed to scrunch her diaper enough that I sent a rather damp child to bed on a cold night ... oh, the dumb things we do when we're tired) that I really wish I had a friend who I talked to every day. Or who at least might pick up the phone and genuinely ask how things are going sometime. But maybe I am just fantasizing a type of relationship that doesn't really exist anymore, especially not in a super-busy city. And maybe it's also that we were the first of our really close friends to have kids and things will be different in 5 or 10 years.
Or maybe, it could just be that I finally e-mailed my 'best friend,' the one who was with me through every step of middle and high school, the one who I almost didn't graduate on time from college because I dropped everything to be with her when she got cancer (a cancer which needless to say has almost certainly made her infertile), the one who was my maid of honor ... and she didn't write back. Nada. In 2 weeks. I know she's read her e-mail, so ... beats me. I am sure the news is hard for her, both because she probably won't be having bio-kids and because she's still single. But I guess I figured that in 2 weeks she'd get it together to write a superficial line or two back. And I certainly don't feel that I contact her at this point. If she's so upset that she can't write back, I'm guessing the last thing she wants is to talk to me.
Maybe my expectations are too high, maybe the couples we know who are truly attached at the hip and couldn't imagine needing anyone else have it right (long-time readers are probably well aware that JD and I despite being quite happily married are the anti-thesis of this, and both very much enjoy our independence), maybe I'm really doing something wrong, but it has just struck me recently how much it sucks to be quite this pregnant with a toddler in tow and no best friend in the country. I know that I am exceedingly lucky to have several very close friends who I am sure I will be in touch with in 10 years ... who just all happen to live outside the U.S. and thus are not particularly easy to reach. But when I am having a bad day, there's no one I can call at night except my husband who is usually busy at work.
There is certainly no one who is going to call and just check how I am doing. And I guess that's what has been bothering me recently. My close friends are too busy with their own families and living abroad and time differences, etc. get in the way and my local friends are mostly just acquaintances who will certainly ask "how are you?" when we run into each other on the street, but they're not going to go out of their way to check in on me. And mostly, I'm fine. But there are those occasional days when I am tired or overwhelmed or like last night when I snap at the fusspot (and it retrospect I was entirely in the wrong. She kept telling me that she'd peed and I kept telling her to go to bed and stop trying to stall, never thinking that she had managed to scrunch her diaper enough that I sent a rather damp child to bed on a cold night ... oh, the dumb things we do when we're tired) that I really wish I had a friend who I talked to every day. Or who at least might pick up the phone and genuinely ask how things are going sometime. But maybe I am just fantasizing a type of relationship that doesn't really exist anymore, especially not in a super-busy city. And maybe it's also that we were the first of our really close friends to have kids and things will be different in 5 or 10 years.
Or maybe, it could just be that I finally e-mailed my 'best friend,' the one who was with me through every step of middle and high school, the one who I almost didn't graduate on time from college because I dropped everything to be with her when she got cancer (a cancer which needless to say has almost certainly made her infertile), the one who was my maid of honor ... and she didn't write back. Nada. In 2 weeks. I know she's read her e-mail, so ... beats me. I am sure the news is hard for her, both because she probably won't be having bio-kids and because she's still single. But I guess I figured that in 2 weeks she'd get it together to write a superficial line or two back. And I certainly don't feel that I contact her at this point. If she's so upset that she can't write back, I'm guessing the last thing she wants is to talk to me.
Monday, January 17, 2011
A lovely NY weekend
We finally had one of those weekends where it really felt like we took advantage of living in the big city. In about 2.5 days (use, JD is at work today ...) we managed to take the fusspot to her 4th borough, visit some of the more iconic shopping spots, eat both good take-out and on "Curry Hill" for lunch today and in general take 3 buses, 1 boat, and 11 different subway rides ...
random thoughts thereafter:
- Nothing will make you feel older than taking the Staten Island subway line at 10 pm on a Saturday night. We were on our way back from a party, and feeling pretty adventurous that we had made it all the way out there and stayed out so late, apparently the night was just starting for 99% of our fellowship subway and boat companions. And apparently despite the night still being quite so young, none of them felt the need for anything more than tank tops and mini-skirts. And yes, the fusspot was the only stroller on our particular voyage past the statue of liberty (and for the record, we visited the Island for a 3-year-old birthday party. Oh, and to meet the 3-year-olds new sibling. Nothing is more relaxing than snuggling someone else's sleeping newborn for an hour, and then handing him back when he wakes up).
- The following makes a pretty full (and granted, exceedingly yuppy) Sunday for a family including one stroller and one super-waddling mother:
a. Crate and Barrel (to purchase 4 new 95 cent juice glasses. No, I don't regret our decision to allow the fusspot to use real glasses at the table. Yet).
b. Jamba Juice for a delicious snack
c. Uniqlo (which has apparently undergone some type of massive customer service overhaul. Everytime I stopped for more than 2 minutes to wait for JD, a sales person brought me a chair to sit on. Seriously. I may consider just going to browse again soon. For those of you not familiar with this chain, it is the Japanese equivalent of a cross between H and M and Gap. Nice, trendy clothes but not too pricey. I would highly suggest not losing your husband in the store if he happens to be wearing a tight t-shirt, jeans, and longish black hair. Just saying. And despite being a little 'larger than normal,' I still grabbed 2 super-soft sweatshirts for nursing and new pajama bottoms.
d. B and H. The crazy, crazy camera store run by religious Jews somewhere overlooking NJ in midtown. I had no idea that the fusspot would love it quite so much but between the merchandise moving on conveyor belts overhead, the free bowls of candy on every shelf, the super-friendly store employees, and the plethora of other toddlers she would have happily stayed for hours (well, we did actually. She would have stayed even longer. We now have a new tripod, new flash for a big camera, and new point and shoot. It doesn't sound like much but JD must have consulted every single employee about all 3 purchases).
And then today we took the fusspot to a "big playroom" to take some photos, aka Grand Central. Yes, the fusspot and I rolled around on the floor of Grand Central, but we certainly washed our hands afterwards before digging into Indian food. Thank goodness it was not too crowded because the fusspot certainly has no sense of stranger danger whatsoever at the moment (not that I mind). And the great thing about taking photos in such a public place is that when she started to look tired, we just offered her a warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie and she was off again. If any of the belly shots worked, I may post one here later.
random thoughts thereafter:
- Nothing will make you feel older than taking the Staten Island subway line at 10 pm on a Saturday night. We were on our way back from a party, and feeling pretty adventurous that we had made it all the way out there and stayed out so late, apparently the night was just starting for 99% of our fellowship subway and boat companions. And apparently despite the night still being quite so young, none of them felt the need for anything more than tank tops and mini-skirts. And yes, the fusspot was the only stroller on our particular voyage past the statue of liberty (and for the record, we visited the Island for a 3-year-old birthday party. Oh, and to meet the 3-year-olds new sibling. Nothing is more relaxing than snuggling someone else's sleeping newborn for an hour, and then handing him back when he wakes up).
- The following makes a pretty full (and granted, exceedingly yuppy) Sunday for a family including one stroller and one super-waddling mother:
a. Crate and Barrel (to purchase 4 new 95 cent juice glasses. No, I don't regret our decision to allow the fusspot to use real glasses at the table. Yet).
b. Jamba Juice for a delicious snack
c. Uniqlo (which has apparently undergone some type of massive customer service overhaul. Everytime I stopped for more than 2 minutes to wait for JD, a sales person brought me a chair to sit on. Seriously. I may consider just going to browse again soon. For those of you not familiar with this chain, it is the Japanese equivalent of a cross between H and M and Gap. Nice, trendy clothes but not too pricey. I would highly suggest not losing your husband in the store if he happens to be wearing a tight t-shirt, jeans, and longish black hair. Just saying. And despite being a little 'larger than normal,' I still grabbed 2 super-soft sweatshirts for nursing and new pajama bottoms.
d. B and H. The crazy, crazy camera store run by religious Jews somewhere overlooking NJ in midtown. I had no idea that the fusspot would love it quite so much but between the merchandise moving on conveyor belts overhead, the free bowls of candy on every shelf, the super-friendly store employees, and the plethora of other toddlers she would have happily stayed for hours (well, we did actually. She would have stayed even longer. We now have a new tripod, new flash for a big camera, and new point and shoot. It doesn't sound like much but JD must have consulted every single employee about all 3 purchases).
And then today we took the fusspot to a "big playroom" to take some photos, aka Grand Central. Yes, the fusspot and I rolled around on the floor of Grand Central, but we certainly washed our hands afterwards before digging into Indian food. Thank goodness it was not too crowded because the fusspot certainly has no sense of stranger danger whatsoever at the moment (not that I mind). And the great thing about taking photos in such a public place is that when she started to look tired, we just offered her a warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie and she was off again. If any of the belly shots worked, I may post one here later.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The next time I get stuck in a waiting room staring at a cord blood donation poster for an hour ...
The cord blood donation ads are everywhere: in the midwives, the waiting room for u/s, the first page of parenting magazine, right next to the sign-in sheet for NSTs ... and they are all really aggressive, something along the lines of "Would you spend $2000 to save your child's life?" And recently, they make me pissed.
See, we have been trying rather hard to find a way to donate the cord blood from the bargain baby. We were all set up to do so for the fusspot except that the donation kit arrived a day too late in the mail. If you read those ads you'd think that cord blood is like liquid gold and biracial baby's cord blood is in particular demand and honestly if this was like the bone marrow registry and you had to donate $50 or so to donate your cord blood, we'd totally be up for that (not all bone marrow donation sites require donations, but the one that JD and I used does). Except that it seems to be particularly hard to donate in NYC. There are a few hospitals which are set up for it, but ours (which happens to have the largest L and D system in the city, I'm pretty sure) isn't. So we need to arrive with kit in hand and have a place ready to come pick up the kit within a few hours of the delivery. And we simply can't find someone.
The one place we've found is Life.ba.nk USA (found on marrow.org) and while we will probably go that route, they only pick up on certain days and more importantly they use their donations for scientific research. I am well aware that cord blood donation is not exactly cost-free for the baby (the sooner you clamp the cord the greater their chance of anemia along the way, and we all know how I feel about that particular issue. On the other hand, all babies had their cords clamped immediately until very recently and we seem to have survived just fine), but it certainly seems worth it to potentially help another family, and probably worth it for scientific research, for us. But seriously, how can the for-profit industry be quite so aggressive when the "public banks" are apparently so underfunded that they can't afford to send someone to come collect particularly needed donations in one of the largest hospitals in a major city in the U.S?
And if anyone has donated in the greater-NYC area and has any wisdom on how to do so (our midwives are fully trained to collect cord blood and happy to do so, so that's not an issue at all) do please let me know!
See, we have been trying rather hard to find a way to donate the cord blood from the bargain baby. We were all set up to do so for the fusspot except that the donation kit arrived a day too late in the mail. If you read those ads you'd think that cord blood is like liquid gold and biracial baby's cord blood is in particular demand and honestly if this was like the bone marrow registry and you had to donate $50 or so to donate your cord blood, we'd totally be up for that (not all bone marrow donation sites require donations, but the one that JD and I used does). Except that it seems to be particularly hard to donate in NYC. There are a few hospitals which are set up for it, but ours (which happens to have the largest L and D system in the city, I'm pretty sure) isn't. So we need to arrive with kit in hand and have a place ready to come pick up the kit within a few hours of the delivery. And we simply can't find someone.
The one place we've found is Life.ba.nk USA (found on marrow.org) and while we will probably go that route, they only pick up on certain days and more importantly they use their donations for scientific research. I am well aware that cord blood donation is not exactly cost-free for the baby (the sooner you clamp the cord the greater their chance of anemia along the way, and we all know how I feel about that particular issue. On the other hand, all babies had their cords clamped immediately until very recently and we seem to have survived just fine), but it certainly seems worth it to potentially help another family, and probably worth it for scientific research, for us. But seriously, how can the for-profit industry be quite so aggressive when the "public banks" are apparently so underfunded that they can't afford to send someone to come collect particularly needed donations in one of the largest hospitals in a major city in the U.S?
And if anyone has donated in the greater-NYC area and has any wisdom on how to do so (our midwives are fully trained to collect cord blood and happy to do so, so that's not an issue at all) do please let me know!
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