A difference of opinion

In light of my earlier post, I want to pose a question about the pro-life/pro-choice debate.  I want to begin by saying that I am not anti-live, although I am pro-choice.  I hate this rhetorical distinction.  I mean, I'm against the death penalty, but I am for a woman's right to govern her own body. I digress.

Here is my question: why is it that most members of certain political party are pro-life, yet they often do not support programs (like Head Start, Welfare, Medicaid, etc.) which would improve the quality of life for the babies they so desperately want to be born?  As a good, good friend of mine once said, "Many Republicans care about babies, until they're born." 

The baby I wasn't sure I wanted

In November 2011 I discovered I was pregnant.  We were not trying to get pregnant, and if I'm being completely, brutally honest, I'm still not sure how it happened.  I mean, I know how it happened, but the event, as it were, was brief.  It was, in fact, not even completed because, as I recall, Bear woke up screaming literally seconds after it had started.  Following an evening together, with a lovely dinner that Archer made for us and at least two bottles of wine, we had, apparently, done just enough.  Thus, I blame George's conception on one too many glasses of wine, a momentary lapse in judgement, and, well, fate. 

I was less than happy about being pregnant, as I wrote here.  I was, in fact, horrified. I cried for two weeks.  I called my best friend daily, who reassured me that I could manage.  That it would be okay.  That we could afford another baby.  That I had really wanted a third child but convinced myself that I didn't.  After three days of such phone calls, my friend said to me what I had been thinking but wouldn't allow myself to say outloud: "M, if the thought of another baby makes you this unhappy, you don't have to have it."  In that moment, my dear, lovely friend offered me what I couldn't, what I had refused to offer myself: the space to consider what my life would be like without this unexpected third child. 

I imagined life very much like it was: a good life, a happy life.  Working, parenting Bear and Wild Man, being with Archer, traveling.  I talked to Archer, who remained largely silent throughout my emotional turmoil.  I talked to my doctor.  I had bloodwork.  I did the research.  I talked with another dear, dear friend who had made the horrifying, gut-wrenching decision to end a pregnancy over a decade ago.  I made an appointment.  I knew Archer didn't want me to, but I couldn't see a future in which we weren't both so stressed out by work and by finances, struggling to be the parents we wanted to be but couldn't be because we were so constrained by time and by resources.  I couldn't see a happy ending.

Then, my wise, honest, loving friend, who had been through it before she had her children, said, "You will want to keep it a secret, but this is big.  You won't be able to keep it a secret forever.  Somehow, I think, Bear and Wild Man will find out, or perhaps you will want to tell them.  Can you explain it to them?  Can you answer their questions?"  I knew I couldn't.  More importantly, I knew I wouldn't be able to answer my own questions, to address my own what-ifs. I would never be able to believe that Archer, whom I know only wanted me to be happy and excited, had forgiven me. Twenty-four hours later I cancelled the appointment.

Now, well over a year later, George is six-months old.  He is a happy, blue-eyed, wiggly, giggly baby.  He has completed our family.  He is the piece we didn't know was missing. He has transformed each of us in big and small ways, even Wild Man and Bear, who are both more compassionate, a bit more patient, and so loving to him and each other.  Now, I look at him and I get emotional.  But not for the reasons you might think. 

I don't regret that period, that whole horrible, dreadful time when I wasn't sure I wanted him.  I realize now that was part of our journey, his and mine.  His unexpected arrival made me stronger, made me a better mother in many ways.  I'm more protective of my children now, of my time with them; I'm more empathetic and, perhaps, more understanding.  In those dreadful, dreadful weeks--and even in the emotional months after I decided to go through with the pregnancy--I realized that, despite all my fear and worry, I was fortunate enough to be in a position to go through with an unplanned pregnancy.  I don't take that good fortune for granted because not everyone has it.

In those gut-wrenching weeks, I learned firsthand,  something I had always suspected: choosing to end a pregnancy is not an easy decision.  It is not a decision that is made lightly.  It is agonizing and horrific and vomit-inducing.  Those of us who have been in such a position to contemplate such a decision, let alone make it, and go through with it judge ourselves harshly, perhaps daily for a long, long time.  But I know now, again as I always suspected, that sometimes that decision is what is right for that person at that time.  And the many, many women who have to make that decision, are not cowardly or desperate, nor are they cruel or emotionless, as so many people would have us believe.  They are brave.  That is what having George taught me.

For the record. . .

I hate baby talk.  I do not speak baby talk to my children (although I don't necessarily talk to them like they are adults).  Baby talk drives me absolutely insane.  Seriously.  Insane.

Full Term

I am officially full term (37 weeks) today.  Theoretically, the baby can come at any time now.  We've spent the past two weeks getting prepared.  I've washed and organized all the clothes.  We've been shopping for furniture more times than I care to mention as we can't agree on anything.  The baby's bag for the hospital is packed, and I've started throwing some things I will need into a bag.  We've also put together an emergency kit in the event we have a home birth.* We're more or less prepared for the baby's arrival. 

Archer even  spent part of yesterday cleaning out our car and installing and rearranging car seats.  We purchased two of these car seats, one for Bear and one for the baby.  These car seats have steel frames, which makes it possible for the manufacturer to make them narrower.  They are actually designed to fit three across.  Wild Man will stay in his current car seat, although we may order him one of these.  It isn't essential, as all three seats do fit in the back seat now, but one of these would allow us to put Wild Man in the middle rather than Bear.  It is currently a bit difficult to get Bear buckled into his car seat.  I have to perform a bit of acrobatics to buckle him while I'm in the front seat.  Again, it's manageable, just not ideal.  I'm also a little concerned about putting Bear right next to the baby.  I have no idea how he will react to the baby.  He is very excited about the idea of the baby, and he spends a bit of time every evening "talking" to the baby and "kissing" the baby.  He really does seem to understand that my stomach will go away and a baby will just appear at the house one day.  But the theory is much different than the reality.  Wild Man is old enough to distract the baby during a car ride or to retrieve a pacifier or even to hold a bottle.  Bear likely could do all of these things too, but he may also take out some frustration on the baby--poking eyes, pinching, and the like.  I'd be more comfortable if Wild Man were right next to the baby.  But with his current car seat that isn't possible for a variety of reasons.  We've decided to see how Bear reacts to the baby and then go from there.

This evening we will put the bassinet we purchased back together (I got it second hand, so I washed all the bedding) and we will also put the bassinet for the stroller together (also purchased second hand).  I need to spend some time sterilizing bottles and breast pump accessories (I gave mine away last summer, so I bought a new one off of eBay, at a reduced price).  Once that is done, it is really a matter of waiting.  I told Archer last night now that we've got everything organized (as organized as we can be, at least) I'll be a week late.

*As a side note, we've had several lengthy conversations about home births.  I'm actually fine with having a home birth, but Archer, who is concerned about complications, is not.  I do have fast labors, however.  We both realize we may have a home birth, even if that is not what we intend, so we wanted to be prepared in the event that we aren't able to make it to the hospital.

Updates

Summer is typically a time when I blog more, but the last few weeks have been taken up with a myriad of meetings, travel, and organization.  I'm resorting to an updates post to get back in the swing of blogging.

• My contract finally came in.  I am officially on a t-t line with a joint appointment in two departments that I never thought I'd be in, at least not permanently.  In some ways this is a relief--I  now have what so many of my grad school friends and colleagues are struggling to find: a tenure-track job.  In other ways though, it is a reminder that the thing I had been promised for over a year didn't work out.  I'm still coming to terms with that reality, it seems.  I am going to have to recreate myself as a scholar, at least to some degree, which I'm more or less okay with.
• I'm currently 36 weeks along, and we're in the process of getting organized.  All the baby clothes I've saved have been washed and put away.  We've bought a "fancy" stroller, second hand.  It came with the bassinet, which I think will be really useful throughout the fall as I will be meeting Wild Man at the bus during what I expect will be the baby's afternoon naptime.  I'm hoping to get the baby to sleep in the bassinet and then walk over to the bus stop without having to wake the baby up.  We'll see if the baby is amenable to my plan though.
• We've also bought a bassinet, second hand, as the baby will be in our room for the first few months at least.  
• We're planning relatively major renovations to the basement, which has a large room that is partially finished.  The plan is to completely finish it and turn it into a large bedroom for Bear and Wild Man.  Archer will be doing much of the work; thus, he will be the one making many of the decisions regarding the renovations.
• Archer can be indecisive, painfully so.  He has currently researched at least four options for insulating the basement, and he cannot decide which he wants to do.  My only requirement is that the insulation be environmentally friendly as I want to limit the amount of off-gassing the boys are exposed to.  Each of the options he is considering fulfills this requirement, and each is more or less the same price.  Two involve a bit more labor, but he argues will result in a better looking and longer lasting finished product.  My stance is the same.  I'm not the one doing the work, so I don't care.  
• We've also been shopping for a bed for Bear.  This is sort of essential, as Bear is currently sleeping in the toddler bed (which converts back into a crib) that the baby will use.  I estimate that we can make the bassinet work for about 4 months, so we do have some time.  Ideally though I'd like to have Bear in a twin bed by the beginning of August.  CU Land has remarkably few furniture stores.  Archer also feels strongly that Bear's furniture should match Wild Man's furniture.  This makes it difficult as we bought Wild Man's furniture second hand over three years ago.  It is a great set, including a captain's bed, a dresser with a mirror, and a bedside table, all made out of birch.  It needs to be refinished, a project we haven't had the time to undertake, but it is in great shape.  Plus we got all three pieces for around $350--a steal considering it is made out of wood.  So we either have to buy both boys new furniture or try to find Bear something that matches Wild Man's furniture.  Again, Archer cannot make a decision.  There is an unfinished furniture store in town, and we could get a similar bed in the same finish as Wild Man's at a reasonable price, again considering it will be wood.  Archer cannot decide "what makes the most sense," the phrase he uses when he is either unable or unwilling to make a decision.  At this point, I just don't care.  I've done all the legwork on this.  I've taken us to every single furniture store in town.  I've searched Craig's List and Kijijii, to no avail.  We haven't found anything he really likes.  So I'm giving him till next week to make a decision, and then I'm going to buy something without him.
• We've ordered new car seats for the baby and for Bear, much to our families' dismay.  They are all very concerned that we're not buying a mini-van.  Well, the new car seats total $700, which isn't cheap, but a new mini-van is well over $30,000.  We've managed for the past four years with only one car, primarily because Archer and I work in the same place.  Come 2013, it will be a bit harder to manage, as each of our children will be going to a different school (Wild Man to the French Immersion school in our district, Bear to the primary school in our neighborhood for JK, and the baby to the daycare on campus).  This will mean a lot of time in the car for Archer and me, or it could mean that we finally use the bus system, which is fairly good in CU Land.  We've just been lucky to not have to use it regularly thus far.  When we do buy a car, it likely won't be a mini-van, but a small SUV with four-wheel drive, a feature that would be very handy during winter.  Our families are upset, we think, because we cannot fit anyone else in our car when they come to visit.  Our logic is simple.  They come to visit no more than three times a year.  It is infinitely less taxing on our budget to rent a car when they come to visit than it is to buy a new car, but they don't seem to understand it.
• Our lives are about to change fairly dramatically, and I'm honestly not sure any of us is prepared.
• We do, at least, have a list of names that everyone in the family, including Bear and Wild Man, agree on, so Baby #3 will have a name, whether he proves to be a boy or a girl.

More names

So we have another name conundrum.  Both our boys are named after someone, and we want to continue that tradition with #3.  If this baby had been a girl, she likely would have shared my middle name.  Now that we're fairly certain #3 is a boy, we're still contemplating middle names.  Honestly, there aren't any male relatives or friends we feel particularly compelled to name the baby after.  We briefly considered Archer's father, but both his brother and our nephew are named for Archer's dad (can I say how completely ridiculous I think it is to have a "Third" in a family that isn't the Kennedys or the Quincy Adams? Just saying.).  Therefore, neither of us really sees much need to honor Archer's dad again.  Wild Man is named after my grandfather, and for reasons I don't even know that I can explain, I don't want to use my father's name.  A few weeks ago Archer suggested the male equivalent of my middle name, but that is a name I don't really like.  So we tried another tactic.  I looked up my middle name and tried to find a male name that means the same thing.  There is a minor problem, however.  My middle name is a fairly normal name, but it isn't spelled normally.  My middle name doesn't exist in naming dictionaries.  Thus, I just looked up the normally spelled version and tried to find male names that mean the same thing.  Um, yes, we don't like any of those names.  Well, we sort of like one.  So what is my point in this rambling post?  This baby is going to be hard to name.

Names

We're currently in the midst of the name game at our house.  We've narrowed it down to two names we both love, and we have two others we both really like.  As with Bear and Wild Man, we won't name the baby until he has been born.  We recently discovered that one of the names we both love--and the one that Archer especially loves--is becoming increasingly popular.  That turned us both off a bit.  It is still far from a name you hear every day, but there is a distinct possibility there will be more than one "X" running around the playground by the time #3 starts kindergarten.  Suddenly, one of our top choices is feeling a bit worn.  And, honestly, that makes me sad.  Why do we care that other people like this name?  So here is a question for my readers: would you pick a name that was either growing in popularity or already popular?  Does that matter to you?

A confession, of sorts

For the past several months I've been obliquely referring to ongoing issues that I haven't been able to blog about--or, more accurately, that I haven't felt comfortable blogging about.  One issue was the process of converting my current appointment at CU to a tenure-track line.  For several months that conversion process was being discussed, but nothing firm was in place.  I was, thus, not comfortable discussing it until I knew that the process was going forward.  The other issue is a bit more personal and is loosely connected to my hesitancy to blog about the first issue.

I am currently 18 weeks pregnant.  I have not blogged about this previously, despite being a self-proclaimed academic mother, for several reasons.  First, and quite honestly, this was not a planned pregnancy.  I have previously blogged about the decision not to have a third child; despite my own desire for a third child, Archer and I decided a third child was not in the best interests of our family for a variety of reasons.  It seems, for me, that this decision was much more definite than I realized.  When I discovered I was pregnant last fall, it was unexpected.  To use the word shocked is accurate, although, in many ways, that word is not strong enough.  Without going into details, I will say that Archer had been waiting to get a referral to a urologist for several months (my one complaint about the Canadian healthcare system: if one is not deathly ill, it can takes months to see a specialist).  I also will say that I am well into my 30s, and I do know what causes pregnancy. Nonetheless, I was shocked.  I was terrified.  I was overwhelmed.  Archer was cautiously excited.  He was never completely comfortable with our decision to stop at two, so he was immediately happy, although well aware of the complications that come with another child.  I was not happy.  In fact, I spent the first two weeks of the pregnancy crying.  Sobbing is more accurate.  I contemplated ending the pregnancy, a decision that Archer hesitantly supported.  I had a long list of reasons as to why this was the most logical choice, and he admitted that he couldn't argue against my logic.  Despite his cautious happiness, he conceded that it made little sense to have a third child.  I even called my doctor to make the appointment, but ultimately, I couldn't do it.

Even almost three months later, I'm not sure I can explain why I didn't make that call.  I talked to two good friends, both of whom were incredibly supportive.  One friend, who had ended an unplanned pregnancy (under very, very different circumstances than mine), cautioned me that, even if I was sure in my decision, I would always wonder.  As I looked at Wild Man and Bear, I honestly wasn't sure I could deal with wondering when I already knew them.

Where am I now?  After many months of ambivalence, I'm slowly getting excited.  We've told very few people though.  Primarily because we opted to have genetic testing, in part because of my age and in part because I was not in a place to deal with any more surprises.  All of those tests have come back (these tests include an ultrasound and blood tests done at specific points in the first and second trimesters), and everything seems to be progressing normally.  We've both told our department chairs, and as you might expect, it's caused some complications to the interview process for me (which I'm sure I'll blog about later).  We've told Wild Man and Bear, and Wild Man is beyond excited.  Bear doesn't really seem to understand, although he is happy to talk to my growing bump.  Other than that, we've told about 10 or so close friends and my sister.  We are traveling to Home State next week for CU's spring break, and as we've never been able to tell our parents such news in person, we decided to tell them then.  I'll openly admit I've delayed telling them until the testing was done, as well as so I could get used to the idea. 

I'm still worried about how this will work.  Archer and I both have demanding jobs, and there are some days when I feel like we're barely keeping our heads above water with two careers and two children.  I'm worried that I won't be seen as a serious academic, especially by members of Research Department.  I'm worried about time and money and any number of things.  But when Wild Man launches into an argument as to why we should name the baby after his favorite Star Wars character, it is hard not to get excited.

*As an aside, to those of you who know me in real life, I'm sorry for coming out this way.  I am at a point where I feel the need to write about this as a way to process it all.  As I wrote above, our parents and extended families don't know yet, so please don't post about this on Facebook as I would hate for them to find out that way.

I should be working, but . . .

this is too cool not to share! 

A breastfeeding group in Salt Lake City celebrated World Breastfeeding Week with a Babywearing Flash Mob!  So awesome!

For sale

I'm selling a lot of Bear's baby things--his vibrating chair and boppies (nursing pillows), for example.  Last week, I gave away a lot of the boys' baby toys, and when we were preparing to put the house on the market, I donated a lot of their baby clothes.  How does this make me feel?  Meh.  That is how I feel.  It is inexplicably hard to name the emotion I'm feeling right now.  It is somewhere between ambivalent, nostalgic, and downright sad.  While it seems highly unlikely we'll have a third child (if I were a betting woman, I'd bet against it), it still feels odd to sell and/or give these things away.  Why?  Well, first, I'm an intensely practical person.  These things are expensive.  So long as there is even a remote possibility we'll have a third child--and by remote I mean, Archer has yet to schedule an appointment for a vasectomy--it seems really impractical to give these things away.  Second, giving them away feels like I'm saying Bear is no longer a baby.  And while I know he isn't and I know that he will never again use the vibrating chair or the boppies, it is still an odd feeling knowing that our house is almost entirely devoid of baby things.  I know I should also give away or sell my breast pump, but I honestly don't know if I can.  The thought of doing either literally makes me want to cry.  How is that for practical?

Bear Update

Bear had his 15 month check-up late last week.  He is doing great, although he has slowed down in both his height and his weight.  Bear was my big baby, weight 8 lbs. 6 oz and measuring 22.5 inches at birth.  I'm 5'3" and weigh 105 lbs. when I'm not pregnant, so for me, Bear was a big baby.  Like Wild Man, Bear gained weight quickly, but he started slowing down at about 6 months.  Between his 9 month and 12 month check up he only gained a pound and literally fell off the growth chart.  That concerned his doctor and prompted a series of weight checks.  As of last week he weight 22 lbs. and 6 oz., which is about 1.5 lbs. more than he weighed at his 12 month check up.  He is gaining weight, but he is doing so at his own rate.  He is currently in the 25th percentile for weight and the 26th for height (he is 30.5 inches long).  He is hitting all of his other developmental milestones, so the doctor is no longer concerned about his weight.  She is concerned about his head size.

Bear is 30.5 inches long, and his head circumference is 19.8 inches.  He is off the chart for his head size.  Our doctor has expressed some concern in the past, but as Archer and Wild Man both have large heads, she hasn't been too worried.  But since Bear has slowed down in every other aspect of his growth except his head, she is a bit concerned.  She is sending us to have an ultrasound of his head to make sure he doesn't have hydrocephalus.  She is fairly certain he doesn't as if he did he would likely have some developmental delays, but she wants to be certain.  I'm a little worried, as I am every time one of my children has to go to a specialist.  As I think I've blogged here before, I tend to worry more about Bear.  I'm not sure why, although I think a lot of it is connected to his hospital stay at 1 month old.  The referral may take a while to come through, so I have no idea when we'll know anything at all.

Babies, Clothes, and Little Girls

I've been organizing all of Bear's outgrown clothing and sorting through Wild Man's old clothes. I'm doing this primarily because Bear is growing so fast that at 8 months, he has already outgrown a lot of 6 to 12 month clothing. In fact, he is already wearing pajamas that Wild Man wore at 15 months--when he was walking. Bear is big! At a check-up a few weeks ago, he weighed 19 pounds 15.5 ounces--3 more pounds that Wild Man weighed at the same age. Based on the clothes he is wearing, Bear is easily 2 inches longer than Wild Man as at this age too. So I'm going through all of Wild Man's clothes to see what Bear can wear and to determine if I need to go shopping for anything.

As I was going through all the clothes, I came across the box of girl's clothes I've been hanging on to since Bear was born. As you may remember, we were told that Bear was going to be a girl. Although we were somewhat skeptical, we prepared as though Bear was a girl, so we received lots of gifts of girl clothing. When Bear was born, we were surprised, but I wasn't at all disappointed. In fact, I was a bit relieved. I felt like it made sense. Given my tumultuous relationship with my mother, I was more than a bit nervous to have a daughter. I was totally unsure that I would be able to avoid making similar mistakes. I'm not saying that boys are any easier to parent, but given my experience with Wild Man, I was more sure of my ability to effectively parent a boy. I remember thinking all of this when I packed up all the clothes that were no longer "appropriate" for Bear (although in the first days, the boy wore a lot of pink, I must say, at least until we found Wild Man's newborn clothes and got them washed!). A few friends had urged me to mourn the loss of the daughter, and while I can see the validity of that for some people, I didn't feel that need. Because I was somewhat skeptical that we were having a girl, I hadn't really invested myself in having a daughter. In fact, we were completely unable to agree on a name, and the only name we had agreed was a boy's name--the name we gave Bear.

At the time I decided to keep a lot of the clothes (I gave some away, and I did sell 2 big boxes of clothes) not because I was hoping for a girl but because we weren't sure we were done having babies. C and I decided it made sense to hang on to the clothes until we decided for sure we were done. Lately, we've been talking about having a third, and we're both feeling more certain that our family is complete for a variety of reasons. So when I opened the box of saved girl's clothes, I decided to just go through it and get rid of everything. I was totally unprepared for the sudden sadness I felt. All of a sudden I realized that I will most likely never have a daughter. While I'm ok with that, I was not expecting to tear up a little bit as I folded a brown sundress with a giraffe print that Wild Man had happily picked out sometime last spring.

(I feel it necessary to explain that I just spent 15 minutes trying to compose the last sentence. Sadness isn't exactly what I felt. In fact, I paused in writing this post to talk to C and to try to explain to him what I was thinking as I folded the tiny little girl clothes once again. Wistful may be more accurate, but even that isn't quite right. Sad isn't accurate because that suggests that I feel like I'm missing something in my life (or at least it does to me), and I don't feel that. I can't put a word to the emotion at this moment, but it was something between sad and wistful.)