Monday, March 17, 2008
Switching blog hosting...
Just wanted to let readers know I will be deleting this weblog soon. I'm moving camp to http://raisingsmartgirls.wordpress.com.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The Silence Within....is my daughter a selective mute?
I haven't gotten onto the subject of my weblog name (which is about raising my girls - not about me) - I was too busy revisiting the past and talking about how I've gotten to where I am. After I started writing this blog I wasn't sure where this was going to go. I've had an unexpected turn of events happen in the past two days that has given me a clue to one of my daughters unusual behaviors. My middle daughter, 4.5, is bright, sensitive, and a little bit anxious. Or so I thought. Well, let me clarify - she is bright and she is sensitive, but she's more than a little bit anxious.
At home, she is outgoing, loud, bossy, overemotional, sensitive (hurt feelings abound as well as sensitive to sounds), temperamental, and not capable of regulating her strong emotions. Out in public, she was shy, clingy, fearful (my oldest was shy too, so this didn't phase me much). In public settings, she seemed to be "good" and "easy to handle", but quiet and kept close to me. At home, it was another story. Multiple meltdowns a day over seemingly small things were frequent. She had a persistent negative attitude.
She was bright though - walked and talked early, knew her alphabet, and colors and could count to 100 by age 4. Now, at 4.5, she can identify planets, and she enjoys the placemat I have with the presidents on them. She knows that Stephen Grover Cleveland was our 22nd and 24th President. No she can't really read his name, but she did keep track of it when she counted the faces. She recalled this fact a week later. She's incredibly imaginative and recently sang a little song about toilet paper (did I mention she can be so silly?).
For three years, I've struggled with trying to figure her out and how to help her. Things had gotten to the point I needed answers. I took her for a preschool screening to see if they can tell me that something was wrong, or at least that there was nothing wrong and I could at least relax about that. Little did I expect that she wouldn't participate in the screening. At all. She went where they wanted her to, quietly and obediently. But she said nothing when they asked her.
I was very surprised, and even more surprised when the evaluator told me that this happens rarely, that *most* kids do eventually warm up and start talking. I thought it was just a fluke.
Her reactions to school were very puzzling too. She didn't talk at school, and came home and her meltdowns and tantrums increased in number and severity for two weeks before things kind of settled down again.
I have 19 type-written pages of narrative of how she behaved at the evaluation, and at the first few weeks of school. When she still wasn't talking and participating at a month and a half into school, I came in to observe her myself. I came with a notebook and pen and took notes. I'm glad now I did. She held herself rigidly, never smiled, didn't talk, didn't sing and dance with the other kids. Her face showed obvious nervous habits (licking her lips was one).
Now at 6 months into school, and still not doing much (for non-verbal communication and soem whispering) and after not talking with my mother when she took her to a field trip.
She has friends, and is comfortable speaking freely around them, but in the school setting, and with other people she's not comfortable with, she just. doesn't. talk. My mother suggested for the first time to look into selective mutism. Well, at first I was about to ignore my mother's advice, figuring my mom was just labeling her unjustly and without a real knowledge of it. Until I actually took the time to check what selectively mute meant. In a nutshell, it's considered an extreme social anxiety and that it acts as a protective mechanism.
What I found left me dumbstruck. I saw my daughter in all the descriptions. All the behavioral problems we've encountered make sense in light of this new information. I've made the appointment to begin evaluations with her in April. I will come back to this thread to add more to this post, but I wanted to get started on it. I forgot I have to go buy something green for my oldest daughter's kindergarten class tomorrow.
At home, she is outgoing, loud, bossy, overemotional, sensitive (hurt feelings abound as well as sensitive to sounds), temperamental, and not capable of regulating her strong emotions. Out in public, she was shy, clingy, fearful (my oldest was shy too, so this didn't phase me much). In public settings, she seemed to be "good" and "easy to handle", but quiet and kept close to me. At home, it was another story. Multiple meltdowns a day over seemingly small things were frequent. She had a persistent negative attitude.
She was bright though - walked and talked early, knew her alphabet, and colors and could count to 100 by age 4. Now, at 4.5, she can identify planets, and she enjoys the placemat I have with the presidents on them. She knows that Stephen Grover Cleveland was our 22nd and 24th President. No she can't really read his name, but she did keep track of it when she counted the faces. She recalled this fact a week later. She's incredibly imaginative and recently sang a little song about toilet paper (did I mention she can be so silly?).
For three years, I've struggled with trying to figure her out and how to help her. Things had gotten to the point I needed answers. I took her for a preschool screening to see if they can tell me that something was wrong, or at least that there was nothing wrong and I could at least relax about that. Little did I expect that she wouldn't participate in the screening. At all. She went where they wanted her to, quietly and obediently. But she said nothing when they asked her.
I was very surprised, and even more surprised when the evaluator told me that this happens rarely, that *most* kids do eventually warm up and start talking. I thought it was just a fluke.
Her reactions to school were very puzzling too. She didn't talk at school, and came home and her meltdowns and tantrums increased in number and severity for two weeks before things kind of settled down again.
I have 19 type-written pages of narrative of how she behaved at the evaluation, and at the first few weeks of school. When she still wasn't talking and participating at a month and a half into school, I came in to observe her myself. I came with a notebook and pen and took notes. I'm glad now I did. She held herself rigidly, never smiled, didn't talk, didn't sing and dance with the other kids. Her face showed obvious nervous habits (licking her lips was one).
Now at 6 months into school, and still not doing much (for non-verbal communication and soem whispering) and after not talking with my mother when she took her to a field trip.
She has friends, and is comfortable speaking freely around them, but in the school setting, and with other people she's not comfortable with, she just. doesn't. talk. My mother suggested for the first time to look into selective mutism. Well, at first I was about to ignore my mother's advice, figuring my mom was just labeling her unjustly and without a real knowledge of it. Until I actually took the time to check what selectively mute meant. In a nutshell, it's considered an extreme social anxiety and that it acts as a protective mechanism.
What I found left me dumbstruck. I saw my daughter in all the descriptions. All the behavioral problems we've encountered make sense in light of this new information. I've made the appointment to begin evaluations with her in April. I will come back to this thread to add more to this post, but I wanted to get started on it. I forgot I have to go buy something green for my oldest daughter's kindergarten class tomorrow.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
So what's a working mother to do?
I've recently discussed on a gifted woman's blog about changing my path due to life circumstances - in my case, and in many other women's lives, that would be having children.
So what happens to the woman who does manage to find herself in a fulfilling career, only to have to put on the breaks when she realizes there isn't enough room for both a satisfying career and a full family life? This is a question that is at the core of a lot of heated debates. Motherhood has inspired a lot of emotions and intense opinions- just google "the mommy wars" and find out for yourself.
In searching for my own truth, I spent a little bit of time reading those opinions. I've also have found a little helpful information along the way. I've been on both sides - I've been a working mother of two for 3 years, but I have been a SAHM of three for slightly longer. What I've discovered is that the only one who can determine the "rightness" of such a life-altering choice is the one making the decision. After some time of reading other's viewpoints, I realized my self-esteem rose or sank depending on which side the article I read was slanted towards.
The funny thing is, having done both, I could see the value in both staying at home, and also staying at work. Neither is without challenges or rewards. Your choice to stay at home is a good one if it works for your family. Your choice to remain at work is a good one if it is good for your family. Unfortunately, there are some real limitations to both, at least here in the U.S. Among them (and this list is by no means complete): if you work, there is limited time with your family, and you usually have to come home to the "second shift", as mothers still bear the brunt of home-keeping and childcare after the workday is over (though some men are carrying more of their share than their fathers ever did); if you don't work, but once did, you may sharply feel the absence of intellectual stimulation, a paycheck, the intangible rewards and praise that comes with being in a job you are good at (raise your hand if you believe our society extols the efforts of the at home mother? Anyone?). If you've never worked at all, you may be made to feel like you have had very little to contribute all because you never put your dues in.
While never once asking me to quit my job, he was really happy to have more time to see me (with me being gone 11 hours a day, and him working a rotating shift, we rarely got to see each other). He was also glad I was at home to take care of our girls and keep our home running a bit more smoothly than it had been (I had little time and energy for housework between work and taking care of two little ones). But I want to point out, lest you think he's a hairy-knuckled Neanderthal in disguise, that he also has always expressed the feeling that if I'm not happy being at home, he would support me if I chose to go back to work. He really gets the idea that "if mama ain't happy, nobody's going to be happy".
Shortly after I quit my job and was starting to adjust to at-home mothering, and interested in some serious introspection, life had other plans. Just when I was becoming comfortable with myself at home, and making some other friends at story times at the local Borders bookstore, I conceived my third child. So much for critical self-analysis. I spent the next 2 years and 9 months simply trying to survive pregnancy with toddlers, then juggle three children. My oldest was 3.5 when my third was born. It wasn't until my third child was about 2.5 when I started feeling the call to define who I was and where I wanted to go. She is now 3, and I figure, I have 2 more years to find out what I want to pursue.
While I'm in this period of transition, I'm doing all that I can to learn about myself, and learn about my girls. I feel confident when the time is right, I will have the direction I'm looking for.
I hope to leave a positive legacy to my girls: that when they will look to me one day and evaluate my choices, they will know that it was with careful consideration that I chose to stay home with them. I really didn't give up who I was, because who I was in the work world was only a part of my self-image. The essence of who I am is still the same even though my job title has changed. I now feel confident that I'm as smart as I once was when I had the paycheck to prove it.
So what happens to the woman who does manage to find herself in a fulfilling career, only to have to put on the breaks when she realizes there isn't enough room for both a satisfying career and a full family life? This is a question that is at the core of a lot of heated debates. Motherhood has inspired a lot of emotions and intense opinions- just google "the mommy wars" and find out for yourself.
In searching for my own truth, I spent a little bit of time reading those opinions. I've also have found a little helpful information along the way. I've been on both sides - I've been a working mother of two for 3 years, but I have been a SAHM of three for slightly longer. What I've discovered is that the only one who can determine the "rightness" of such a life-altering choice is the one making the decision. After some time of reading other's viewpoints, I realized my self-esteem rose or sank depending on which side the article I read was slanted towards.
The funny thing is, having done both, I could see the value in both staying at home, and also staying at work. Neither is without challenges or rewards. Your choice to stay at home is a good one if it works for your family. Your choice to remain at work is a good one if it is good for your family. Unfortunately, there are some real limitations to both, at least here in the U.S. Among them (and this list is by no means complete): if you work, there is limited time with your family, and you usually have to come home to the "second shift", as mothers still bear the brunt of home-keeping and childcare after the workday is over (though some men are carrying more of their share than their fathers ever did); if you don't work, but once did, you may sharply feel the absence of intellectual stimulation, a paycheck, the intangible rewards and praise that comes with being in a job you are good at (raise your hand if you believe our society extols the efforts of the at home mother? Anyone?). If you've never worked at all, you may be made to feel like you have had very little to contribute all because you never put your dues in.
I've recently read that in Sylvia Ann Hewitt's Creating a Life: Professional Women and the Quest for Children, the American woman's feminist movement failed to consider one thing: what to do when children come along. Yes, great strides have been made in the work front, but little thought had been given to creating adequate support and flexibility for working mothers and fathers. American women wanted equal rights of women in the work force, but failed to consider the issues of working mothers (who so often have at least two jobs - the one at work they are paid for, and the one at home that they are not). Since it wasn't lobbied for, adequate provisions for sufficient work leave for parents, flexible work options, and childcare was all but ignored. So whereas American women have a mere 3 months maximum of job-protected maternity leave (but typically most only have 6 weeks of maternity leave - and no provisions for companies under 50 employees), other countries have much more generous parental leave. Sweden, for instance allows 18 months of parental leave shared between the mother and father.
So what about delaying marriage and family while you are getting settled into a career? In Ms. Hewitt's book, she points out that while highly successful men do seek the intelligent, high powered, career oriented woman to date, many would rather not have their wives' careers eclipse their own.
Fortunately, I wasn't one of those high-achieving women, and my husband wasn't one of those highly successful men. We were both equally matched in intelligence and drive though - and very supportive of each other in our career goals. We weren't for money or prestige, just for something where we were able to use our intelligence and support our moderate lifestyle.
Still, after having 2 babies in 2.5 years, and I tried to strike a balance between the work and family, it soon became clear that there wasn't one to be had. I had my last day of work when the youngest one was 9 months old. I felt, finally, after 12 years of continuous work (starting from my junior year of college), I'd be able to have the time to be introspective and carve out a new path. My husband was very supportive of the idea, and together, we felt we could work out the details if I was willing to make the leap.While never once asking me to quit my job, he was really happy to have more time to see me (with me being gone 11 hours a day, and him working a rotating shift, we rarely got to see each other). He was also glad I was at home to take care of our girls and keep our home running a bit more smoothly than it had been (I had little time and energy for housework between work and taking care of two little ones). But I want to point out, lest you think he's a hairy-knuckled Neanderthal in disguise, that he also has always expressed the feeling that if I'm not happy being at home, he would support me if I chose to go back to work. He really gets the idea that "if mama ain't happy, nobody's going to be happy".
Shortly after I quit my job and was starting to adjust to at-home mothering, and interested in some serious introspection, life had other plans. Just when I was becoming comfortable with myself at home, and making some other friends at story times at the local Borders bookstore, I conceived my third child. So much for critical self-analysis. I spent the next 2 years and 9 months simply trying to survive pregnancy with toddlers, then juggle three children. My oldest was 3.5 when my third was born. It wasn't until my third child was about 2.5 when I started feeling the call to define who I was and where I wanted to go. She is now 3, and I figure, I have 2 more years to find out what I want to pursue.
I have no idea if I will be able to re-create the work life I had. But sometimes I also think that since I've been there and done that, now it's time for something else. I'm really at peace with trying something new. As long as I feel that I'm creating a work life I choose, how can I be settling for less?
But then again, I've been fortunate to get most every opportunity I've wanted, and on my terms. I knew I was going to college, no matter where that turned out to be. I had applied to a private university I wanted to go to, and got accepted - though ultimately, I chose to go to a different one because of the stipulations my mother placed upon going (I had to live at home and commute - it wasn't something I wanted to deal with because there was too much family drama going on). I applied for 3 jobs that I wanted, and one that I only sort of wanted. I was fortunate enough to receive the three jobs I really wanted. In fact, being rejected by the job I only sort of wanted, opened the door for my "dream" job - even though it's true I walked away from that dream job because of work/family imbalance. I really don't have any idea if anyone would want me when I'm gone from the work force for 6 years. I could be rudely awakened at that point.
While I'm in this period of transition, I'm doing all that I can to learn about myself, and learn about my girls. I feel confident when the time is right, I will have the direction I'm looking for.
I hope to leave a positive legacy to my girls: that when they will look to me one day and evaluate my choices, they will know that it was with careful consideration that I chose to stay home with them. I really didn't give up who I was, because who I was in the work world was only a part of my self-image. The essence of who I am is still the same even though my job title has changed. I now feel confident that I'm as smart as I once was when I had the paycheck to prove it.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Rekindling the love affair with science...
Is it possible to do that after having children and a rather long leave of absence? I really don't know. I do know this is the right time for me to figure that out.
I feel like I've been walking through life half asleep since I gave up my career for my girls. If you've read my introduction, you may understand why I left in the first place. But I've slowly begun to wake up and evaluate this season of my life.
Apparently I'm not the only one to lose a little of the passion in their relationship to science once children enter the scene. In her last post in December of 2007, the Mother of All Scientists can certainly relate to this quandary and had taken to heart some sage advice from another wise woman in the science field, Miss Prism.
I'd like to see if I can rekindle the love affair I had with science. Of course, with three young children, I have a bit more of a challenge to find my way back.
To emulate Ms. Prism's "5 Tips to Rekindle Your Love Affair with Science", I resolve to:
1. Talk more.
Predominantly now it's with my girls, who are now old enough to get interested in small science experiments. I have a list of goals for them in my other blog, Growing In Peace. This small step is actually very thrilling to me, because in renewing my relationship to science, I may even spur them on to a relationship of their own with science.
2. Try something new.
Honestly, I would love to see if I couldn't find a way to work at a museum, even for a short time. Even if it wasn't actually doing lab work, I would love to work on exhibits. When I was in high school, I sent away for an application to work a summer at the Smithsonian Institute. I really considered doing it, but my mother didn't want me to. That was the first of many disagreements my mother and I had. I had attended a few meetings at the Field Museum of Chicago about 7 years ago to discuss DNA analysis (using PCR techniques), for identification purposes of their animal specimens. It was a great series of meetings. I wonder if I could hook up with something like that again. But they probably would shun my lack of current credentials. Still, it wouldn't hurt to try to look for opportunities.
Failing that, I have a budding interest in amateur geology. Well, I've always had an interest, but now have the desire and time to study. Fortunately, I have a great mentor in this department, a colleague of mine at the crime lab who has a great home collection of geological specimens. He's already promised to send my girls some fossils.
3. Get away together.
Being close to the Windy City, I'm sure there are opportunities to find lectures, or even start the process of informational interviewing to see what I might like to jump into next.
4. Listen to each other.
I want to start listening to NPR's "Science Friday" at home. No, I won't expect my 3, 4.5, and 6 year old to listen to it, but we did have a set of cordless headphones somewhere if I can dig them up. As much as I like listening to Laurie Berkner, I do tire of the same songs all the time.
5. Develop outside interests.
I've spent recent months blogging, so my writing skills are blossoming again after a very long season of neglect.
I don't know if I really can get fired up again, but I sure would like to try.
I feel like I've been walking through life half asleep since I gave up my career for my girls. If you've read my introduction, you may understand why I left in the first place. But I've slowly begun to wake up and evaluate this season of my life.
Apparently I'm not the only one to lose a little of the passion in their relationship to science once children enter the scene. In her last post in December of 2007, the Mother of All Scientists can certainly relate to this quandary and had taken to heart some sage advice from another wise woman in the science field, Miss Prism.
I'd like to see if I can rekindle the love affair I had with science. Of course, with three young children, I have a bit more of a challenge to find my way back.
To emulate Ms. Prism's "5 Tips to Rekindle Your Love Affair with Science", I resolve to:
1. Talk more.
Predominantly now it's with my girls, who are now old enough to get interested in small science experiments. I have a list of goals for them in my other blog, Growing In Peace. This small step is actually very thrilling to me, because in renewing my relationship to science, I may even spur them on to a relationship of their own with science.
2. Try something new.
Honestly, I would love to see if I couldn't find a way to work at a museum, even for a short time. Even if it wasn't actually doing lab work, I would love to work on exhibits. When I was in high school, I sent away for an application to work a summer at the Smithsonian Institute. I really considered doing it, but my mother didn't want me to. That was the first of many disagreements my mother and I had. I had attended a few meetings at the Field Museum of Chicago about 7 years ago to discuss DNA analysis (using PCR techniques), for identification purposes of their animal specimens. It was a great series of meetings. I wonder if I could hook up with something like that again. But they probably would shun my lack of current credentials. Still, it wouldn't hurt to try to look for opportunities.
Failing that, I have a budding interest in amateur geology. Well, I've always had an interest, but now have the desire and time to study. Fortunately, I have a great mentor in this department, a colleague of mine at the crime lab who has a great home collection of geological specimens. He's already promised to send my girls some fossils.
3. Get away together.
Being close to the Windy City, I'm sure there are opportunities to find lectures, or even start the process of informational interviewing to see what I might like to jump into next.
4. Listen to each other.
I want to start listening to NPR's "Science Friday" at home. No, I won't expect my 3, 4.5, and 6 year old to listen to it, but we did have a set of cordless headphones somewhere if I can dig them up. As much as I like listening to Laurie Berkner, I do tire of the same songs all the time.
5. Develop outside interests.
I've spent recent months blogging, so my writing skills are blossoming again after a very long season of neglect.
I don't know if I really can get fired up again, but I sure would like to try.
Life is what happens when you're busy doing something else
Prior to having children, I really never gave much thought to what to do when children came. I had a positively wonderful pre-child life with my husband. Not only was I madly in love with him, but I really liked who he was. He was quiet, intelligent, and down to earth (and geeky too, as any good mechanical engineer would be). He never boasted about himself, and never pushed his way around, or railroaded any of my decisions. He would offer up a sound perspective, but at the same time respected my choices. He was supportive of me when I struggled with issues with my mother (I was still struggling with independence even though I had lived on my own for 18 months before getting married), but never stood in the way of my relationship with my family. The mutual respect we've had for each other has been one of the greatest joys of our marriage. We've been able to overcome the bumps in the road because we have respect for each other.
Prior to having children, we had really full lives. We both had jobs and we were making a decent salary. I made almost the same amount of money as he, but every time I got a raise, he did to, and so he was always about a grand or three ahead of me (it was kind of like a personal goal of mine to make even just a smidge more than him). I can't complain though, I was making decent money, even though I only had an undergraduate degree. Thankfully the clinical laboratory setting paid a lot more than most research positions would with only a bachelor's degree. I didn't have to worry about my lab losing funding as can happen in the world of research. I had a lot of job security.
My husband, J, and I enjoyed going having the freedom to go wherever we wanted. I had taken full advantage of working in the city and frequently went out to lunch - one of my favorite things to do was dine al fresco, and frequently joined my colleagues for dinner and drinks and plenty of dialog after work just because I could. I absolutely loved the city. It was so alive with excitement and there was so much to take in. It was a marvelous time of personal growth.
J and I also loved having the freedom to take weekend getaways. Nowhere fancy - we could care less about going to flashy places like Las Vegas. We just loved the opportunity to drive somewhere and spend time together. We spent a nice weekend in St. Louis once, taking in the sights of a relatively big city without the big expense. Lots of times we didn't even go anywhere, and spent long restful weekends just lovin' each other up. I bet you can figure out how we ended up with 3 children in 3.5 years.
I fully believe that if children hadn't happened to me, we would have postponed having children until it was too late because it wasn't a driving need for either of us. The conversation about when to have children got brought up from time to time, but essentially it was vague, and we both agreed we'd have children when we were more financially stable. Financial stability wasn't likely to happen for a long time based on our lack of savings.
Needless to say, we were very unprepared for kids when I did get pregnant. We were living in an apartment, spending more money than saving, and were quite shocked when we did get pregnant. You'd think at age 30, I'd have given some serious thought to children, right? Umm, nope. Furthest thought from my mind. At that age, I was too busy adjusting to my new job at a small clinical genetics laboratory - learning the procedures, figuring out my responsibilities, especially since my laboratory director was going to be gone for a month to go visit her family in India.
My last day as a forensic scientist was on October 6th of 2000 and I started the new job on October 9th. I was pregnant by November, and my boss left for India in December. To say that I was overwhelmed was an understatement. I was so NOT prepared for the prospect of motherhood. Bad timing. Very bad. As it turned out, the first week of January, on the way back from a Wolves hockey game dh and I went to (with former co-workers from the crime lab where I worked), our car spun off the road on the tollway and hit the median cement barrier on my side of the car. The following week, I had a miscarriage. At only 10 weeks, the doctor said it was improbable that the car accident caused the miscarriage, but I'm not sure I believe that. I don't think it caused physical trauma, but I think it caused enough emotional trauma to stir things up. That night as I sat in the emergency room, I had a strong feeling that if I sat still, I might pass out and never wake up. Physically I had no reason to feel like I was dying, but I certainly felt like that was a distinct possibility. Maybe I was almost scared to death? At any rate, I can't imagine that being good for the baby. Some say there is a definite mind-body connection. And to this day, I still link the two events together as more than just coincidental.
As I was recuperating from the loss of the baby, dh and I conceded it was time to get our ducks in a row, should we get pregnant again. Our apartment lease was just about up, and we made an offer on house. In April, we put an offer on a house, celebrated J's birthday, and two weeks later found out not only did we get the offer, but we were pregnant again (apparently a new video game wasn't the only present J got for his birthday). This pregnancy was only 3.5 months after the miscarriage. We were not expecting to become pregnant so soon after our loss.
This time, the baby was a keeper. But it wasn't long before another major unexpected blip occurred. I was just 6 months pregnant, and we were adjusting to our new home and J got laid off from work. This was not supposed to happen to an engineer. I thought only the line workers at his job were at risk, but apparently, since he was the lowest ranking engineer, despite working for them for 5 years, they still gave him to boot, ignoring the fact we had a baby on the way. I remember the day he called me on the phone at work to tell me the news. Not exactly what I wanted to hear by phone, and I was shaking afterwards. It was a bit of a shock when you realize that you are not only pregnant, you just bought a new house - in and of themselves wonderful news - but you come to find out you are now the major breadwinner for your family. Thankfully we chose a starter home, a modest house built in the 70s, and so the price tag was modest too. Even so, it was pretty stressful to think about. Only I didn't have long to stress about it. There were other things on the horizon that completely eclipsed the worries I had about being the breadwinner.
Less than one month after J got laid off work, 9/11 happened. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how life altering that event was. I didn't even know what was going on, as I was already at work. But J called me from home, fearing for my safety and that of our baby's. Because I was in Chicago at the time, it was thought that maybe there would be an attack in other major cities, and the Sears Tower was really not all that far away, and so J was really worried about us. For me, I was unexpectedly calm about the whole situation that day. I don't know what it was about being pregnant, but I was feeling grateful that should my life end, at least I knew what is was like to be pregnant, and I had been able to feel the life inside me. I was truly not alone, even if my life should end that day. It was a really strange feeling.
For months afterward, I realized that no problems were that serious that we couldn't work them out, even though it was a full year before J was gainfully employed again. His job loss actually turned out to be beneficial, as I was able to have him watch our daughter for 5 months while I worked. Ironically, I was keenly aware that I finally achieved my goal of making more money than him, but that wasn't quite the way I imagined it would go.
It turns out that this crazy turn of events was only the first of many, as I had this habit of getting pregnant just before the time the previous child turned 1. You'd think two educated adults would quickly figure out how to prevent pregnancy, but I guess we got lazy. After you have one child, the fear of getting pregnant sort of dissolves because you know what you get at the end.
And in fact, we did decide to only have two children, but as our luck would have it, J's doctor was on vacation the week his vasectomy was scheduled. Apparently there was a mix-up in scheduling. So instead of a vasectomy that day, we conceived baby girl number 3. I really kid you not. J already took the day off work and we managed to have some fun while the two older kids were busy watching Sesame Street.
Two weeks later, when we saw the big fat positive, J called the urologist to reschedule the appointment at the earliest possible time. He quipped with the doctor that he was going to send her a bill for the cost of raising a child to adulthood, as it was their office that created the mix up that resulted in our being pregnant.
So, in our case, I really understand the quote that life is what happens when you are busy doing something else. In retrospect, we should probably have had more serious discussions about children. But then again, re-telling our story has always made for interesting conversation. It wouldn't nearly be as funny if I actually carefully planned out our situation.
Prior to having children, we had really full lives. We both had jobs and we were making a decent salary. I made almost the same amount of money as he, but every time I got a raise, he did to, and so he was always about a grand or three ahead of me (it was kind of like a personal goal of mine to make even just a smidge more than him). I can't complain though, I was making decent money, even though I only had an undergraduate degree. Thankfully the clinical laboratory setting paid a lot more than most research positions would with only a bachelor's degree. I didn't have to worry about my lab losing funding as can happen in the world of research. I had a lot of job security.
My husband, J, and I enjoyed going having the freedom to go wherever we wanted. I had taken full advantage of working in the city and frequently went out to lunch - one of my favorite things to do was dine al fresco, and frequently joined my colleagues for dinner and drinks and plenty of dialog after work just because I could. I absolutely loved the city. It was so alive with excitement and there was so much to take in. It was a marvelous time of personal growth.
J and I also loved having the freedom to take weekend getaways. Nowhere fancy - we could care less about going to flashy places like Las Vegas. We just loved the opportunity to drive somewhere and spend time together. We spent a nice weekend in St. Louis once, taking in the sights of a relatively big city without the big expense. Lots of times we didn't even go anywhere, and spent long restful weekends just lovin' each other up. I bet you can figure out how we ended up with 3 children in 3.5 years.
I fully believe that if children hadn't happened to me, we would have postponed having children until it was too late because it wasn't a driving need for either of us. The conversation about when to have children got brought up from time to time, but essentially it was vague, and we both agreed we'd have children when we were more financially stable. Financial stability wasn't likely to happen for a long time based on our lack of savings.
Needless to say, we were very unprepared for kids when I did get pregnant. We were living in an apartment, spending more money than saving, and were quite shocked when we did get pregnant. You'd think at age 30, I'd have given some serious thought to children, right? Umm, nope. Furthest thought from my mind. At that age, I was too busy adjusting to my new job at a small clinical genetics laboratory - learning the procedures, figuring out my responsibilities, especially since my laboratory director was going to be gone for a month to go visit her family in India.
My last day as a forensic scientist was on October 6th of 2000 and I started the new job on October 9th. I was pregnant by November, and my boss left for India in December. To say that I was overwhelmed was an understatement. I was so NOT prepared for the prospect of motherhood. Bad timing. Very bad. As it turned out, the first week of January, on the way back from a Wolves hockey game dh and I went to (with former co-workers from the crime lab where I worked), our car spun off the road on the tollway and hit the median cement barrier on my side of the car. The following week, I had a miscarriage. At only 10 weeks, the doctor said it was improbable that the car accident caused the miscarriage, but I'm not sure I believe that. I don't think it caused physical trauma, but I think it caused enough emotional trauma to stir things up. That night as I sat in the emergency room, I had a strong feeling that if I sat still, I might pass out and never wake up. Physically I had no reason to feel like I was dying, but I certainly felt like that was a distinct possibility. Maybe I was almost scared to death? At any rate, I can't imagine that being good for the baby. Some say there is a definite mind-body connection. And to this day, I still link the two events together as more than just coincidental.
As I was recuperating from the loss of the baby, dh and I conceded it was time to get our ducks in a row, should we get pregnant again. Our apartment lease was just about up, and we made an offer on house. In April, we put an offer on a house, celebrated J's birthday, and two weeks later found out not only did we get the offer, but we were pregnant again (apparently a new video game wasn't the only present J got for his birthday). This pregnancy was only 3.5 months after the miscarriage. We were not expecting to become pregnant so soon after our loss.
This time, the baby was a keeper. But it wasn't long before another major unexpected blip occurred. I was just 6 months pregnant, and we were adjusting to our new home and J got laid off from work. This was not supposed to happen to an engineer. I thought only the line workers at his job were at risk, but apparently, since he was the lowest ranking engineer, despite working for them for 5 years, they still gave him to boot, ignoring the fact we had a baby on the way. I remember the day he called me on the phone at work to tell me the news. Not exactly what I wanted to hear by phone, and I was shaking afterwards. It was a bit of a shock when you realize that you are not only pregnant, you just bought a new house - in and of themselves wonderful news - but you come to find out you are now the major breadwinner for your family. Thankfully we chose a starter home, a modest house built in the 70s, and so the price tag was modest too. Even so, it was pretty stressful to think about. Only I didn't have long to stress about it. There were other things on the horizon that completely eclipsed the worries I had about being the breadwinner.
Less than one month after J got laid off work, 9/11 happened. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how life altering that event was. I didn't even know what was going on, as I was already at work. But J called me from home, fearing for my safety and that of our baby's. Because I was in Chicago at the time, it was thought that maybe there would be an attack in other major cities, and the Sears Tower was really not all that far away, and so J was really worried about us. For me, I was unexpectedly calm about the whole situation that day. I don't know what it was about being pregnant, but I was feeling grateful that should my life end, at least I knew what is was like to be pregnant, and I had been able to feel the life inside me. I was truly not alone, even if my life should end that day. It was a really strange feeling.
For months afterward, I realized that no problems were that serious that we couldn't work them out, even though it was a full year before J was gainfully employed again. His job loss actually turned out to be beneficial, as I was able to have him watch our daughter for 5 months while I worked. Ironically, I was keenly aware that I finally achieved my goal of making more money than him, but that wasn't quite the way I imagined it would go.
It turns out that this crazy turn of events was only the first of many, as I had this habit of getting pregnant just before the time the previous child turned 1. You'd think two educated adults would quickly figure out how to prevent pregnancy, but I guess we got lazy. After you have one child, the fear of getting pregnant sort of dissolves because you know what you get at the end.
And in fact, we did decide to only have two children, but as our luck would have it, J's doctor was on vacation the week his vasectomy was scheduled. Apparently there was a mix-up in scheduling. So instead of a vasectomy that day, we conceived baby girl number 3. I really kid you not. J already took the day off work and we managed to have some fun while the two older kids were busy watching Sesame Street.
Two weeks later, when we saw the big fat positive, J called the urologist to reschedule the appointment at the earliest possible time. He quipped with the doctor that he was going to send her a bill for the cost of raising a child to adulthood, as it was their office that created the mix up that resulted in our being pregnant.
So, in our case, I really understand the quote that life is what happens when you are busy doing something else. In retrospect, we should probably have had more serious discussions about children. But then again, re-telling our story has always made for interesting conversation. It wouldn't nearly be as funny if I actually carefully planned out our situation.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Who am I?
That's a good question. I've been finally taking the time to figure out who I am. My definition of myself has been evolving over the past 5 years.
I'm a 37 year old mom of three beautiful and smart young girls (aged 3, 4.5 and 6). Geniuses? No, but really amazing just the same.
I am a former scientist in the biotech field. I have 12 years of experience in the clinical laboratory setting in three different areas - food microbiology, forensic DNA, and medical genetics. After unexpectedly having 2 children in 2.5 years, both my work and home life suffered. I was gone 11 hours a day, and I had to come home and start my second-shift job - that of mother (my dh had shift work then and had been gone at night 2 weeks out of 3 and I had no help at home those nights). By the time my second daughter was 6 months old, and I had been back at work for 3 months, I assessed the situation: I was chronically tired, chronically late for work, and chronically distracted when I was at work. I rarely saw my husband because of his shift work (he was a displaced mechanical engineer forced to work shift work after being laid off in 2001's recession). My lab director was becoming increasingly irritated with me and I with her (a mother herself), and I just had enough of being passed over for additional job training opportunities.
I decided I had enough. I was done with being splintered, of being increasingly burnt out at work, and unhappy coming home to be "on" for my girls when I was exhausted. I dreaded coming home, and I frequently fell asleep reading them stories. Something was about to give, and it wasn't going to be my mental health. Fortunately, I was in a good financial position to come home without too much struggle, even though I was in a significant amount of emotional turmoil over the decision. I gave my lab director a generous three month notice so I could train my replacement while I adjusted to the concept of being jobless after 12 consecutive years of being employed.
I knew exactly what I was giving up: monetary compensation, intellectual stimulation, the prestige of working for a well-known private university, and essentially the whole pre-child identity that I worked so hard to create.
But I also knew exactly why it was important for me to walk away - I needed the chance to get to know my children deeply and be the one to directly influence their lives. I hated being on the fringe of their lives - even though my wonderful mother-in-law was more than an adequate substitute. She cared for them as if they were her own, and talked with them, played with them, lovingly cared for their needs.
I make no judgments on another mother's choices. But for me, the choice was easy. I needed to be with my children, as much as my children needed to be with me, and maybe even more so. I think much of this stems from a lot of my own childhood hurt with my own family. I was hurt because I was marginalized and unimportant to my own working mother, I had a distant step-father, and I was mercilessly taunted by my oldest sister. I was already on the road to healing from that damage on my own before I had kids, but I didn't realize how much further I was able to heal once I had my own and I could give everything I wanted to receive (emotionally, not matierally in case you were wondering). I also realized after becoming pregnant with baby girl #3 three months after I quit my job that there would be even less of me to go around between work and home. Even my wonderful mother-in-law, would have been hard pressed to juggle three of them under 3.5.
I have a lot of thoughts and I can be a pretty prolific writer. I'm really excited to have a place to journal. I've never really been able to finish pen-and-paper journals, because I get tired of writing by hand and critique my handwriting. Sad, isn't it. I've always been better using a computer.
I have another blog too, at Growing In Peace, where I journal the progress I make at teaching my girls lots of things, giving them a solid foundation in math, science, while also nurturing creativity.
As for how I will continue to evolve, well, I hope that's what I can figure out through journaling my thoughts. I have many interests, and I consider myself to be an autodidact, so I really have no idea at the moment what's to come next, but I am sure interested in finding out who I want to become.
I'm a 37 year old mom of three beautiful and smart young girls (aged 3, 4.5 and 6). Geniuses? No, but really amazing just the same.
I am a former scientist in the biotech field. I have 12 years of experience in the clinical laboratory setting in three different areas - food microbiology, forensic DNA, and medical genetics. After unexpectedly having 2 children in 2.5 years, both my work and home life suffered. I was gone 11 hours a day, and I had to come home and start my second-shift job - that of mother (my dh had shift work then and had been gone at night 2 weeks out of 3 and I had no help at home those nights). By the time my second daughter was 6 months old, and I had been back at work for 3 months, I assessed the situation: I was chronically tired, chronically late for work, and chronically distracted when I was at work. I rarely saw my husband because of his shift work (he was a displaced mechanical engineer forced to work shift work after being laid off in 2001's recession). My lab director was becoming increasingly irritated with me and I with her (a mother herself), and I just had enough of being passed over for additional job training opportunities.
I decided I had enough. I was done with being splintered, of being increasingly burnt out at work, and unhappy coming home to be "on" for my girls when I was exhausted. I dreaded coming home, and I frequently fell asleep reading them stories. Something was about to give, and it wasn't going to be my mental health. Fortunately, I was in a good financial position to come home without too much struggle, even though I was in a significant amount of emotional turmoil over the decision. I gave my lab director a generous three month notice so I could train my replacement while I adjusted to the concept of being jobless after 12 consecutive years of being employed.
I knew exactly what I was giving up: monetary compensation, intellectual stimulation, the prestige of working for a well-known private university, and essentially the whole pre-child identity that I worked so hard to create.
But I also knew exactly why it was important for me to walk away - I needed the chance to get to know my children deeply and be the one to directly influence their lives. I hated being on the fringe of their lives - even though my wonderful mother-in-law was more than an adequate substitute. She cared for them as if they were her own, and talked with them, played with them, lovingly cared for their needs.
I make no judgments on another mother's choices. But for me, the choice was easy. I needed to be with my children, as much as my children needed to be with me, and maybe even more so. I think much of this stems from a lot of my own childhood hurt with my own family. I was hurt because I was marginalized and unimportant to my own working mother, I had a distant step-father, and I was mercilessly taunted by my oldest sister. I was already on the road to healing from that damage on my own before I had kids, but I didn't realize how much further I was able to heal once I had my own and I could give everything I wanted to receive (emotionally, not matierally in case you were wondering). I also realized after becoming pregnant with baby girl #3 three months after I quit my job that there would be even less of me to go around between work and home. Even my wonderful mother-in-law, would have been hard pressed to juggle three of them under 3.5.
I have a lot of thoughts and I can be a pretty prolific writer. I'm really excited to have a place to journal. I've never really been able to finish pen-and-paper journals, because I get tired of writing by hand and critique my handwriting. Sad, isn't it. I've always been better using a computer.
I have another blog too, at Growing In Peace, where I journal the progress I make at teaching my girls lots of things, giving them a solid foundation in math, science, while also nurturing creativity.
As for how I will continue to evolve, well, I hope that's what I can figure out through journaling my thoughts. I have many interests, and I consider myself to be an autodidact, so I really have no idea at the moment what's to come next, but I am sure interested in finding out who I want to become.
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