Long overdue

It's been quite a long time since I've posted anything here.

I wanted any of you out there who still stop by to know that things are really good.

I've been working at fantastic industry for a while now, and although at first I was deleriously happy to jump off the academic ship, now that I've been here a significant amount of time, I get pangs of longing for what might have been. But then I remember all the more numerous reasons why I chose this path instead, and those pangs turn into simple fond memories of the good parts of my academic experience.

And really, some parts of my job are still very similar to what you'd expect in academia, but some parts are, thankfully, not :)

I think the most important thing is that I'm finally starting to feel "healed" enough from everything we've gone through (and continue to go through) with the Wee One, that my brain is starting to allow the creative thinking that is so vital for doing really great science.

For so long during my postdoc I just felt totally depleted, and I knew that trying to go the tenure track faculty route would have just made things worse. But I didn't want to just give up - I was hoping that the passion for research was still there.

And it is! I just needed time, and an environment that allowed me to still feel like I was contributing, without burning out. Fantastic industry nursed me back to health. That's not to say that I haven't been working hard. I have been working hard, but I haven't had to think up all the projects myself, and having such a great group of colleagues to lean on for creative juices has made such a difference. Now that my own creativity is returning, I can start playing that role again myself!

So things are good! I am really happy here - and starting to get really excited about being a scientist again :)

On being the parent of a special needs child

I can't tell you how many times I've been welcomed to "Holland".

The poem is about the shock, pain, and mourning that one goes through being the parent of a special needs child. It ends with the statement that if you spend your life mourning what you no longer have (a typical, healthy child), you'll never be free to enjoy the child you DO have.

For me, the mourning comes and goes. Some people try to point out that there are others out there in much worse situations than what my family goes through. I am always aware of this fact. But it does not ease or negate my own pain.

Some other parents of special needs children are so GRATEFUL for all the little achievements of their child. We learn to never take the little things for granted. We know how HARD we and our children work to achieve the things that come so easily to others.

But my joy over Wee One's achievements is often mixed with heartache. I wish the little things and milestones weren't such a struggle. And I don't understand why I can't be more like the moms who are just completely joyous when they bear witness to such things.

Some of them were told their child would be a vegetable (!), or wouldn't even survive. They are thrilled to prove the doctors wrong, and every little thing seems like a miracle. I don't know why I can't share the same untainted awe.

I am grateful that the doctors never had such grim prognoses for the Wee One. They were very upfront and honest - they didn't know what the future held for her, every case is different. She was a very sick baby.

But at the same time, maybe the hope that Wee One might come through all of this unscathed is what taints the joy I should feel with each of her achievements. When it IS such a struggle to reach milestones, I am reminded that we are not "typical".

Many other parents also have a sense of faith that I do not. I often think faith would be a handy thing to help get me through this. But it's difficult to reconcile my upset at the unfairness of it all with any sense of faith.

I do, however, take time to enjoy some aspects of Wee One's delays. I get to enjoy her stages for longer periods of time. She is still my baby in many ways, even though she's quickly approaching 2 years of age. Parents of typically developing children often tell me that as soon as they get used to the current stage their child is in, the child moves on to the next one. They're always playing catch-up. The slower pace of Wee One's development lets me relax in ways they can't.

Still, I struggle with the constant balancing act of joy and heartache. I will probably always long for things to be easier for Wee One. But I am starting to let go of the life I hoped we would have. It makes the pain sting a little less when we notice more issues or delays. Sometimes not having an idea of where you're headed is less stressful than having a roadmap, and realizing you're off course.

Relief and Joy!

Fantastic Industy People called me!

They'd LOVE to have me!

I am OVER THE MOON!

I knew it was a good fit for me. It's incredibly heartening to know the feeling was mutual!

I feel some perma-smile coming on!

Still here

I've missed writing posts for this space. I've been so busy and worried to write about things, but I think it's time to give you all an update.

I've mostly been busy with two things:

1. Job hunting

2. Wee One

Wee One is doing really great! She still has plenty of medical issues, and I'm still struggling to keep the heartache that goes with it in check, but really, considering everything she's gone through/is going through - she's absolutely phenomenal!

Job hunting has been a massive undertaking. I swear it feels like I'm working at least three full-time jobs! I often have to remind myself that once I finally land a more permanent position, I won't have this enormous work-load. Because otherwise, I feel like I'm about to crack. Seriously, I cannot maintain this pace. I find myself frequently feeling on the verge of a massive burn-out - but taking days off doesn't alleviate the problems. My anxiety doesn't go away.

BUT, I am hopeful! I've made some great strides in figuring out what I want to do, and where. I've submitted applications for jobs, and had a few interviews!

My interview with "Fantastic Industry People" was, well, fantastic! I'd be incredibly happy to receive an offer from them. In fact I'm REALLY hoping they'll give me one. I'll be a little crushed otherwise. I'll survive, but I just feel so exhausted from all of this, I'd really like for it to pay off now that I've found (and interviewed at) a place that seems like such a great fit.

Fantastic Industry is much farther away from "home" - and I felt pretty torn about that for a while. I interviewed at a pseudo-industry/research institute that was located in hometown. Friends and family back home were all really hoping this would be the one. Even I thought it would be pretty ideal if it were to work out that way. But sadly, it was not a good fit. And actually, I'm not that sad about it. I was actually a little happy. I was happy that I was able to recognize almost right away that it wasn't going to be a good place for me to work, and then happy that I wouldn't have had to make the choice of deciding between "home" and Fantastic Industry Place.

Of course, I've got no offers from anywhere yet. I'm expecting to hear news soon from Fantastic Industry Place. I REALLY hope it's good news.

In the meantime, I half-heartedly continue the job search, try to keep up with my own work, and try to be the best mama i can to Wee One. And I try not to break down when I feel like it's all about to fall apart.

Changes

There are changes on the horizon for the Daybyday household.

I don't feel broken anymore. I'm functional again, but a clunkier patchwork version of my previous self. I still have my moments of heartache and incapacitating meltdown. I still desperately need a true vacation from work. But I seem to have refueled enough to keep going. Miraculously.

Perhaps I feel rejuvenated because I can see the light at the end of this postdoc tunnel. I have such conflicting feelings about my time as a postdoc. I really haven't had a bad experience or advisor. But it hasn't been all that great either, at least not in an academic sense. I've met some truly wonderful people here, and maybe I really did need this experience to help me figure out what I want to do with my career.

But I still can't shake the feeling that I am learning this lesson the hard way. The lesson being that it's okay to leave academia.

It's actually kind of liberating to sit here and realize that the decision I have agonized over for the last few years, has now been made. I don't actually have another job lined up yet, but I have applications in the pipeline for several that I am really excited about, and none of them are in academia. I always thought I'd have to decide to leave academia, and THEN figure out what I want to do. But instead, I held onto my security blanket (you know, the one that made me feel like crap, like I'm always behind, and that was no longer fulfilling me? that one), and discovered other career opportunities that really appealed to me.

First I was taken by the prospect of guiding science "from above" (government science administration). The application for that position was a little overwhelming at first. I didn't think I was anywhere near qualified. But with some help from a fantastic friend, I started digging into my CV and past experiences, and as I began to flush out the application package, I was amazed to find that I really DO have some pretty awesome skills and experience!

This had a sort of snowball effect. I started feeling much better about myself, about my career prospects, and about life in general.

I've since discovered a position in industry that seems too good to be true. In fact, it has become my top choice. I never, ever, EVER, thought I'd consider industry. And I might not have, if it hadn't been for the journey of self discovery as a result of the government science administration career application process.

I know part of it is personal, not just about my scientific interests. In all honesty, I've had a pretty good run. Academia has been good to me (you know, aside from the not feeling good enough part). I've been fortunate enough to pursue my own interests. But that just doesn't cut it for me anymore.

My bottom line has changed. Wee One has some new medical issues (heartbreaking stuff that I don't want to get into in this post, but she still seems happy, so I take comfort in that), but even with just what she has been through already, I need my work to be more meaningful in order to justify time away from her.

This company that's got me all twitterpated seems to really make a difference. And I know the difference that Wee One's medications have made for her. Although I might not get to directly help Wee One with my work, the idea that I could still be helping someone else's child (we're all someone's child) is incredibly appealing.

However, the company is located even farther away from my family and friends back home. And when we found out the news about Wee One's newest medical issue, it was so hard not having them around for support. There is another company doing somewhat similar work, located very close to hometown. And it's an option I've been seriously considering.

But husband and I are both drawn to far away city as well. We like the idea of not having to deal with winter for a few years (or more, if we decided to stay there). And there is a great children's hospital there. It just seems so wonderful - if it weren't so far away.

But I think that's where we are headed. And I'm more excited than I am sad. That's a good sign, I think.

I've been in touch with some people at the company there, and things are progressing nicely. It makes me a little antsy about still being here in postdocville. It feels a little like finishing grad school did. I want to get this done already. But there isn't the stress of a defense, nor the satisfaction of that shiny new title.

It's hard to keep forging ahead on a project that is beginning to feel like a dead end, when I see so much excitement on the horizon. Sometimes change is good.

Absent

I've had a hard time bringing myself to post here (as evidenced by my lack of posts for about 4 months!). Part of it is realizing that I'm not nearly as anonymous as I had hoped to be, given everything I've talked about in this space. And part is just that I've been struggling to maintain productivity at work, and blogging takes time and mental energy that I guess I've just been short on.

Wee One is doing fantastic - I mean, considering her long list of medical conditions. She had the most fantastic first birthday party (can you believe it's been a year already?), and I often reflect on how just a year ago so much was different. We barely had her home, after a month of intensity in the NICU. We've had a few hospitalizations and surgeries since, a number of scares here and there... so much has changed - and yet, some things are still the same.

I thought I would feel normal again by now. But I think instead that I am broken.

Maybe there is still hope for repair, but I really don't think I'm ever going to be as functional as I was before.

I need to say that I never, ever have feelings of resentment towards Wee One - quite the opposite, actually. I adore her, and my fears about her health and development tend to be what consume me. So when I say that I feel broken, I don't intend for it to sound like Wee One is to blame in any way, except that I care about her so very much.

That being said, I feel completely inadequate at work most days. I can barely sit through 5 minutes of a seminar before I realize that instead of paying attention to the speaker, I'm fretting over the latest test results for Wee One, and the thought of another potential surgery. I am struggling to move my current research project forward, and can no longer fathom balancing multiple projects simultaneously. And I'm finding that I really don't give a crap about what I'm researching anymore. I seem to have lost my passion (if it ever really was there to begin with, I can't even remember anymore).

I just want to stop feeling like this.

I wonder if I just have to figure out a way to adapt to my new state of broken-ness. If my constant distractability, and poorer research performance can't really be overcome because of the chronic state of stress and worry in my personal life, then maybe I just need to accept that, and make appropriate changes in my career goals.

I feel like I'm burning out. But without the excess of productivity that usually precedes a burn out. I know it's because I've been busy in a different arena. I just feel like I'm expected to catch up from everything that's happened in the past year. But I haven't even fully healed yet (mentally, and somewhat physically), because it's ongoing.

Sigh.

Long time no write

Man, it's been crazy. And not the usual holiday crazies.

Wee One had to have another surgery. That makes the grand total 5 now. I'm very happy to report that she did GREAT, and is recovering like a champ (as she always seems to), and we really hope that this is the last one for a looooooong time.

She certainly deserves a break. And I'm looking forward to living in less "crisis mode" too.

Someone used our credit card number for thousands of dollars worth of purchases in another country. Husband discovered this on his birthday, and quickly called the credit card company. They were really great about removing the disputed charges and sending us new cards. But still, not the greatest birthday present to get. It was a fitting end to a terrible week and we decided to give him a do-over next year instead :)

I didn't even come close to finishing the manuscript for the InAdWriMo - but I had a really good meeting with Advisor yesterday about it, and I think it's still showing promise.

It's funny, you'd think after over a month of no posts because I was so strapped for time, that I'd have lots more to write about. You know, like writing about all the things that took up all my time... and yet, I'm drawing a blank. I think that having the Wee One do so well in surgery and recovery sort of makes me just content, and I don't feel like venting as I usually do here.

Getting over things

First off, thank you all for the birthday wishes! A friend of mine from grad school came to visit last weekend and brought some very delicious ice cream for me. She also instructed me NOT to share it with my lab. Who am I to disobey such an order? I gladly shared with her and then finished off the container myself the next day.

Wee One is doing incredibly well after this most recent surgery. I can hardly believe the difference it has made for her already! Now that she isn't struggling to breathe she is actually able to finish a bottle without exhausting herself! This means she's eating MORE than ever before - and that is fantastic news because we've always struggled getting her to eat enough and gain weight. Now she's eating closer to the maximum recommended for someone her size and age! Hurrah!!!

And her social development is just blossoming right now! I think not having to work so hard to breathe is just making everything else easier because she's got so much more energy to devote to other things now :)

It's just amazing, and fantastic, and I love her to pieces.

Work is going much better now - I'm still really hoping to get this manuscript done by the end of November (that's my InAdWriMo goal over on the right panel).

A little while ago (maybe it was last weekend?) I tried pumping again - someone had told me about hormones you can take to stimulate relactation, and with Wee One now feeding so well, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could start nursing her again, if I could start lactating again. Well the Wee One has completely forgotten what nipples are for and just sort of looked at me like "What ARE you doing? Are you trying to smother me???" And Mr. Daybyday just sort of raised his eyebrows when I dug out the manual breast pump and told him my plans. Pretty much all I got out of it was sore nipples.

However, I think it helped me become a little more okay with not being able to nurse Wee One. She's doing so great now that nursing would be more about me than her. And I've got enough other things to worry about that nursing, although it would have been nice, isn't such a big deal now as it was before.

And that's a good thing.

When I'm a PI

When I become a PI I will make sure that if we have cake and ice cream in lab meeting to celebrate anyone's birthday in the lab, then we will have cake and ice cream for everyone's birthday.

For the second year in a row, I've felt like a second rate lab member, ice cream and cake-less.

It's not about the birthday, or the cake and ice cream.

It's about being made to feel like an important part of the group. Worthy of being celebrated.

Some relief

Wee One is now out of surgery - both procedures went well! Hurrah!

Now we wait and see how she does recovering, and hopefully we'll get to take her home before the end of the weekend.

Thanks for all the well wishes!

Counting down

Okay i have two countdowns.

First, less than 24 hours until Wee One goes for surgery.

I'm coping, but obviously still worried. Please keep her in your thoughts over the next few days! I hope she'll be home and recovering by the end of the weekend.

Next, I've decided to join Brazen Hussy and participate in InaDWriMo 2008.

My goal is to have a rough draft of a manuscript for my current project by the end of November.

I really need to get this done so that I can feel like I was more than just re-productive in 2008!

And now, back to counting down the hours...

Figure 1. Quite possibly the strongest little Wee One around. I just wish we didn't ask her to demonstrate her fortitude so often.

In a funk

I've been in a pretty big funk lately. To pay the utmost respect to Dr. Isis in the form of flattery by way of imitation, please see the figure below depicting my recent state of mind:


Figure 1. How I've been feeling lately. Including the excess hair. Not nearly as hot as Dr. Isis.

I've been pretty worn down (a full nights sleep is still elusive, so I'm sure that is a major contributing factor), unmotivated (pretty science aside, I'm just not that into my current project), and uninspired (this is probably the most worrisome of all my feelings).

To maintain a career in academia, I'm pretty sure you have to maintain your inspiration and passion for research. Mines been wavering. I think it is a combination of frustration with my current project, and a lack of sufficient overlap between the science that excites ME and the science that excites my advisor.

But at least I can gleam some hope from this - maybe I can still fan the flames (cause I KNOW there are still embers and hot coals in my passion for science) if I get into a different state of mind, or find some way to rise above my advisor's luke warm reaction to my project ideas.

Still, it frustrates me to no end that I'm so easily influenced by advisor's lack of enthusiasm (he's been very supportive, he just gets more excited by things I'm not as terribly interested in - if only I'd realized this before joining the lab).

I'm also almost completely consumed by anxiety and worry over Wee One and her upcoming surgeries. With all the medical issues my poor little Wee One has, I have an even harder time imagining myself spending MORE time away from her as I pursue an academic career. I find myself thinking "What will happen if she's in the hospital for weeks on end? Will my employers be understanding of all the time off I will require? Will they hold it against me? Will I constantly feel like I'm falling behind in work, or not spending enough time with Wee One?"

I really do not feel ready to take on a faculty position. And yet, I can't fathom uprooting our family for a second postdoc (the thought of trying to find a whole new team of doctors and specialists - we're up to about 15 of them now! - is enough to bring me to tears). When we leave this postdoc, I REALLY want it to be something more long term. For all our sakes. Oh, and preferably close to somewhere with fantastic pediatric doctors.

Sigh.

It'd also be nice to be closer to friends and family once again. I get their support through email and occasional phone calls - but having them around in person would probably make a big difference. We've made some friends here in postdoc city, but like most academics, they are transient (except the profs who are more long term), and some have already moved on to other institutions.

There's just too damn much for me to juggle, and I'm getting tired of feeling sorry for myself. I want to snap out of this funk - but I really don't know how.

It's gotten so bad that sometimes when Wee One smiles and laughs, my smile and laughter in return ends in tears.

Figure 2. A face that should only bring a mama to happy tears.

But my worry and anxiety about Wee One's health brings this mama to tears... a lot.

I like it when science is pretty....

I FINALLY figured out how to get R to produce this plot. It took me way too long, but it is oh-so-satisfying to finally have it figured out.




Ahhh.... pretty.

(and significant too! look at those p-values!!)

A reminder

I used to feel like a big fish in a small pond. And I have a bad habit of downplaying my achievements because I felt that I was in a small pond (even though some of my academic achievements would have been big in a big pond too!)

Well now I'm in a pretty big pond. And I don't have the same relationship with my current advisor as I did with my PhD advisor. I feel like a pretty small fish most days - especially compared to some of the whoppers that have come out of this place.

So I decided to do something about it.

As a gift upon graduation, my PhD advisor gave me a book written by a scientist whose lab I considered joining for a postdoc. I was touched that he recognized how interested I was in this other area of research, despite the fact that it wasn't something he himself was terribly excited about. But what was more meaningful were the words he wrote at the top corner of the first page:

To Daybyday from Advisor

- my best student
- all my love and best wishes

So now I have that book sitting on the shelf right above my monitor at work - as a reminder that no matter what size pond I'm currently in, I can still feel like a big fish.

Second bit

As promised in my last post, I will now address point 2: Running towards...

There is a particularly nice blog that I read by another mommy whose daughter has multiple medical issues (in the interest of maintaining some sense of anonymity I won't link to it here, so you'll just have to trust that it is a great blog), and one of her posts was about a list of life goals she has for herself. On that list was being able to run a mile.

I'm very happy to report that she has now achieved and surpassed that goal!

It seems that a lot of my blog friends are becoming runners these days!

I think it's fantastic! I was never a runner until a few years ago when I decided to run a marathon to raise money for a charity. I still don't consider myself a runner (snails don't run) - though I do try to run a few times a week now. I've been lucky enough to find a friend to run with who doesn't mind running at my slooooow pace.

But all this has got me thinking about what my own goals are these days. I feel like I really should have some - even if it seems like I'll never have time right now to pursue them. I definitely won't pursue them if I don't know what they are!

So that's my homework, to figure out what I want to be running towards. Even if they're little things - cause I love checking things off my check-lists!

Do any of you have lists like that? What are on yours?

Bit by bit

Often I will come here with the intent to post, and then my mind will suddenly go blank. This is so very odd because my mind is usually SO jammed and packed full of thought fragments (and sometimes full coherent thoughts!) that I feel the only way to hear myself think is to SCREAM OUT LOUD.

For those of you who are computationally inclined, it's like my brain gets all frazzled and dumps a core. A great big, giant core dump. (those core files are really quite huge, and the combination of any word with dump makes my immature self giggle).

So anyway, I've decided to step over the core dump that I have neatly left on the floor that is my mind, and just write SOMETHING. Anything! I just need to keep writing.

So I have 2 items that I'd like to write about now that I've gotten the preliminaries out of the way.

1. Title of this post, and of this blog
2. Running towards ....

So for the first item, I recently (as in, within the last few weeks) found out that Wee One will be having another surgery, relatively soon (within the next few weeks). The day I found out, it was all I could do to hold the tears back. This will be surgery #3 for my baby, and the first surgery since coming home with us from the NICU. I've heard this is actually the hardest one, because it's the first one since she really became MINE (well, technically "ours" as Mr. Daybyday is an equal partner in all of this) and wasn't in the care of the skilled medical professionals in the NICU.

I've had, and continue to have, many days, and moments of utter despair. A great sadness just smothers me sometimes. I know that this surgery is necessary, and I know why they want to do it so soon, and I know that this should help her tremendously - but I'm still SO SCARED. I know she's come through 2 previous surgeries really well. But they still make you sign consent forms that spell out the possible risks. And in the back of my mind, I'm always scared I'll lose my baby under the knife. It is the most terrifying part of it all.

Short of refusing the surgery that I know should help her so much, there is absolutely nothing I can do to change this.

So where does this leave me? And knowing that with her other health issues, subsequent surgeries in the future are much more likely?

It leaves me in a constant state of stress. And I'm not talking about the stress I used to feel. I'm talking about that kind that can sneak up on you even on a good day, and leave you sitting in a puddle of tears. The kind that amplifies every little thing so that everything feels much bigger and heavier than it really is.

I end up spinning my wheels when I think of how I'm going to cope in the long run.

And then a friend said to me "You know, it's cliche, but A.A. does the 'one day at a time' thing because it works when things seem so insurmountable."

And I thought about the name of my blog, and how important it is, for my own sanity, and how I will have to more actively and purposefully think about things in a day by day fashion. If I don't, thinking about the future is just too overwhelming, that I can't get myself through today. And my baby needs her mama to get through today.

I can handle a day.

Point 2 will have to wait until the next post - because now I have to get back to work. So stay tuned!

Half a year

As promised, a post devoted to the Wee One and all that she is at her six month birthday:

• Your favorite activity these days is rolling from your back to your tummy (all on your own!)
• When you are on your tummy, you become frustrated because I think you are trying to crawl, but haven't quite figured out how to yet (you kick and push with all your might, but end up doing an impression of the cutest little flopping fish on land!)
• You've discovered your feet! You now have the flexibility to grasp your toes with your hands
• Sometimes when you toot, you startle yourself! (and it makes mommy and daddy laugh)
• Hearing the laughter of other children makes you giggle - and on occasion, mommy and daddy have been able to coax that same giggle out of you!
• Ms. Kitty is becoming your friend, as she now catches your eye, and you reach to pet her soft fur
• You try to help hold your bottle when we feed you
• You seem to like the pear and carrots+pear baby food that daddy makes for you
• You're not so fond of the baby cereals
• You've learned that if you pretend to cough when we try to feed you or make you do your physical therapy, we'll stop
• While you used to hate diaper time (especially when we first brought you home from the NICU), you now LOVE having your diaper changed, and even hold your feet with your hands to help
• Sometimes you pee in the bath (but so far, no poop!)
• You love talking when you are on the change-table more than anywhere else
• Your repertoire of sounds and vocalizations increases every day - with your latest sound being a comical grunt that you do only when on your tummy, and one that sounds like you're saying "ello"
  
• You still have some wisps of your newborn hair among all the newer growth - giving you longer hair around your ears and at the nape of your neck
• Your newer hair is much lighter than your newborn hair was (morphing from daddy's hair color to mama's)
• All three of your incisions from your surgeries have faded
• You sometimes sleep 7 or 8 hours through the night, but more often you still wake up after 4 or 5 hours to eat
• You are so bright eyed and bushy tailed in the wee hours of the morning when you wake up to start the day (a morning person like daddy!)
• I think you are about to cut your first tooth (bottom, right hand side)
• When you sit in your high chair (though it's not actually high), you look like such a big girl now!
• You love when we play "high-five" - you coo and make all sorts of excited sounds and facial expressions, and kick your feet excitedly too!
• You no longer try to stuff your entire fist in your mouth - instead you prefer your tiny little thumb, but with the rest of your fingers spread out, rather than in a fist (although we try to discourage this after you eat because you tend to gag yourself and that makes you throw up)
  
• You continue to win over all the people you encounter (and with all the specialists and therapist you see, that's a lot of people!)
• If I had to describe you in one word at this time in your life, it would be determined

I still can't believe you're already 6 months old! I remember when I thought this day was forever away. You've been through so much, and you've come so far! It's been a great big adventure for us all!

I feel so lucky to be your mama - I am SO proud of you!

Still here

I'm continually surprised to see ongoing traffic to this, my humble little blog - even when I've been away for long periods of time!

I was even more surprised when I saw that someone visited here from my hometown! (whoever you are from B-town, I'm talking about you!)

Anyway, the Wee One turned 6 months old (!), and when I get the chance, I plan on devoting a post to describe her at this age, so that months from now when memory has faded even more, I'll be able to remember the little things that make me smile so much right now.

But for now, I just wanted to say thank-you for your ongoing patronage, and encouraging words when I need cheering up. And now I must head off to meet my running partner and attempt to lose the left-over baby-belly I still fashion.

Life of a NICU mom - part 2

Astronomom describes a feeling of loss over the "normal" birth experience that could have been. Her words are so on the mark with how I feel, it is uncanny. It's been nearly six months (!) since my wee one was born, and reflecting on my birth experience still saddens me, despite that the wee one is a smiley, wonderful part of my world now.

And it makes me mad that I can't seem to let go of this pain. Why can't I just get over it? So what if there were no balloons, flowers or visitors when wee one was born? So what if the physical separation of mama and baby, along with a case of post partum pre-eclampsia (yes, it happens, apparently) meant I would only get to enjoy the bond of breast feeding so few times? So what if the wee one is now followed regularly by nine specialists and two therapists?

I can sort of understand why some of it is hard to get over. Some things, like the myriad of specialist appointments , tests and therapy sessions for the wee one are ongoing events in my life that completely fill our calendar. For selfish reasons, I wish for normalcy - just well visit check ups with the pediatrician would be such a relief to my worried brain, and my schedule. But most of all I just wish the wee one was healthy enough not to need all of this medical attention - she is such an amazing little person, I wish she didn't have to go through all of this. I wish she could have more time to just be herself. Less poking and prodding.

The lack of breastfeeding sometimes gets to me. I felt like such a failure when I finally gave up pumping. Upon leaving the NICU, the wee one was being breastfed, but I was just barely able to produce the amount she needed. I was put on lasix to manage a sudden sky rocket in my blood pressure postpartum (pre-eclamsia they suspect), and I think that had a negative effect on my milk supply. In any case, we soon discovered that the wee one had feeding difficulties in general (common with some of the medical issues she has), and was losing weight (this was after the initial weight loss after birth, and back up to her birth weight in the hospital - in other words, losing weight at that point was very scary!).

She was then diagnosed with "failure to thrive" - an umbrella term for all those who have difficulty gaining weight. So the doctors had us switch to formula to see if she could gain weight on a diet with known caloric input (can't do that even with breastmilk in the bottle). Of course that's when she started showing increased signs of reflux, so she had to be put on a hypoallergenic formula. Happily, however, she started gaining weight! And she was able to take larger volumes than she had even with breastmilk by bottle.

At the time I was still pumping and storing my milk in the hopes that once we had the reflux and weight gain under control, she might be able to resume breastfeeding. But my supply never increased. She was soon eating double what I could produce. And her feeding therapist said it was a miracle that we were able to get her to feed so well at all and gain any weight, considering all of the wee one's feeding and breathing difficulties. I was worn ragged from all the pumping (either both Mr. Daybyday and I were awake for every single feeding, or I was feeding her and then pumping afterwards which left me with less than 2 hours of sleep at a time between feedings).

I finally decided to stop pumping after my mother stayed with us to help, and I would be crying as I pumped and my mom (or Mr. Daybyday) fed the wee one. I wanted so bad to be holding the wee one instead of watching her while I pumped - and I didn't even know if she'd ever be able to use the breast milk anyway because at that time we didn't know what was causing her reflux (food allergy or physiological problem).

My mom said, "You can't keep this up. It is making you miserable, and I'm worried that it is going to make you sick. Wee one will be better off with a happy and healthy mama than a constantly exhausted and miserable mama with breastmilk." And I knew she was right. But it was still hard to finally decide to give up pumping. It was like I needed permission. I was so worried people would think I was being selfish.

Even now, when people ask me "Are you breastfeeding?" I get really tired of feeling like I have to tell the whole story of why we're not anymore.

Maybe I should change the title of this post to something about breastfeeding, as I've spent so much time here talking about it!

I'm starting to at least get over the sense of loss for the breastfeeding - there are definite perks, like more sleep when Mr. Daybyday handles a feeding through the night on his own. And I'm no longer feeling rushed when I do feed the wee one, because there is no pumping to get done afterwards. So I just get to enjoy feeding my baby. That's how it should be.

I do, however, still feel overwhelmed by all of the ongoing medical stuff. But that's a lot to get into all in one post, so I think I'll finish up here, and leave you, instead, with a recent picture of wee one.


It's hard to be too sad with that happy little face smiling back at me!

Names

And for my second post of the day, I'd like to talk about names.

Mr. Daybyday and I have different last names (despite my calling him Mr. Daybyday on this blog).

I am Dr. Daybyday, and he is Mr. NotDaybyday.

We were married when Wee One was born, and although we knew we would be challenging tradition, we decided to name Wee One: Wee One Daybyday. NOT Wee One NotDaybyday.

So she has MY last name, not his.

This, apparently, blows a lot of peoples' minds.

It didn't really matter to me what Wee One's last name would be (so long as it was one of our names, or a combination of the two). And I thought it was pretty sweet that Mr. Daybyday (I'm reverting to calling him what I always call him on this blog, but rest assured, his last name is still NotDaybyday) opted for Wee One having my last name. In fact, he even tossed around the idea of changing HIS last name to match ours because he thought it might be nice for us all to have the same last name, and I'm too much of a feminist to change mine (though I do always have the excuse that I've made a name for myself in my work). I was hesitant, because I didn't want people to think I made him change his name.

So far he has not changed his last name. But since he is the primary stay at home parent with Wee One, and she has multiple medical specialists who call about results and appointments, when the phone rings he often hears "Is this Mr. Daybyday?" To which he has found it easier to just reply "Yes" instead of "Actually, this is Mr. NotDaybyday, but I'm Dr. Daybyday's husband, and Wee One's father."

Strange how such a little thing can confuse SO many people.

I wonder how many other married couples with different last names give their children the mother's last name?

I've even had female labmates ask me for advice on convincing their husbands (or prospective husbands) to opt for this sort of naming scheme. I can definitely see the appeal of the whole family having the same last name - but why should husbands need convincing? Why would it hurt their egos to give their child the name of the woman they love? Or is it older family members they fear upsetting?

It's an odd situation. But in any case, I love that Wee One and I are Daybyday girls. And I love that Mr. NotDaybyday doesn't mind challenging tradition.