And the thing about babies...

Babies smell so sweet and their warm, pliable bodies fit so snugly against our own.  My son's slobbery kisses and gummy smiles kept me going through tough times at work and at home.  I loved for the rare occasion when he would fall asleep in my arms.  Along with those fluffy pink clouds at sunrise came the suffocating grey fog brought on by lack of sleep, the transformation, body and mind, into a baby feeding/nurturing/cleaning machine, and the soul crushing guilt of not enjoying every second of this precious life. 

So, do I want to go through that again?  Do I want to experience the other worldliness of bringing home a tiny creature, completely dependant on me?  The panic moments after a soothing bed time bath (did I get his belly button too wet? Are his lips a little blue, was the water too cold?  Is the rash because I didn't buy the expensive organic baby wash?), the unexpected moment that feels like forever as I catch his fathomless hazy gaze (am I seeing my own eyes or his father's?).  Do I really want to experience that utter joy and complete terror a second time?

Well, my actions for the last three years would say I do want to do it again (better this time, of course). 

As you may know, but probably don't, my husband and I have been trying to have a second child.  We've been trying (on and off and on again) for the last three years. 

As I write this, it's the day after Valentine's Day 2013.  This time last year we were celebrating the beginning of a new family member.  We were finally at the end of the road.  Our family was complete.  She was the twinkle in her baba's eye, the rose in her brothers cheeks, and the extra inch in my waistband.  This time last year, after I read my son his bedtime ritual books, we would peer through the inky black, our hair entangled, at glowing images of what a developing human looks like when just the size of a grain of rice. We would whisper about our dreams of a little sister who swam in the ocean with the mermaid princes and princesses. 

This time this year, the mermaid princess has been tossed aside for superheroes dressed all in black.  This time this year, we don't have a new family member, but a hole in each of our hearts.  This time this year, the doctors say the next turn in the road is ivf.  This time this year, we are making some big decisions and sorting out a lot of deeply held beliefs about ourselves and our assumptions about what would, should, could happen.

Yes, we want a baby and we've already paid a steep price to achieve our desire.  Now we are deciding if we are willing or able to pay more.

So, I restart this blog to chronicle our process, both as a tool to sort through our journey in progress and a place to share with other struggling families our heart and our story.

The next post will be about how we got to teeter at this precipice.

Workplace Flexibility Part 2: Walk Tall

In this second installment of my exploration into the Focus on Workplace Flexibility Conference held at the end of November, I wanted to share part of first lady Michelle Obama's remarks.  Here's what the Washington Post reported that she said:

Have you ever proudly flaunted your kids at work?

"And I was lucky -- I had understanding bosses, I had very accommodating jobs. In fact, in the last job I had before coming to the White House -- I remember this clearly -- I was on maternity leave with Sasha, still trying to figure out what to do with my life, and I got a call for an interview for this position, a senior position at the hospitals. And I thought, okay, here we go. So I had to scramble to look for babysitting, and couldn't find one. So what did I do? I packed up that little infant, and I put her in the stroller, and I brought her with me. And I prayed that her presence wouldn't be an automatic disqualifier. And it was fortunate for me that, number one, she slept through the entire interview. (Laughter.) And I was still breastfeeding -- if that's not too much information. (Laughter.) And I got the job."

This hit home to me.  I have a meeting with a client scheduled for tomorrow. 

Tonight I decided we were all going to sit at the table - together - at the same time - for a family dinner.  Just after I called an end to the whining, endless "why?" questions and repeated attempts to leave the table (I won't name names, but I can say no one left the table with a clean conscience), my husband's phone rang.  It was a wonderful woman at our son's school giving us bad news.  His teacher was sick and they can not find a substitute, the classroom will be closed tomorrow. 

My first reaction was joy; an excuse to stay home with the most important person in the world. 

My next thought was: this is bad.  My boss will think that I'm irresponsible to cancel at the last minute and it will look very bad to the client who has probably already ordered my lunch. 

I started to figure how to get out of staying home.  Could my husband stay home instead?  No, he has sacrificed so often for my deadlines and now he has a deadline he has to meet.  Is there anyone who isn't working, out of town, sick or otherwise obligated that we could leave our son with, and be assured he woudl not cry for us the whole day?  No, no one fits that bill.  Could I bring him with me?  No, he has an attention span of a flea and the meeting involves a windowless room where we sit for a whole day reviewing a single project.  Could I be Michelle Obama and just ask the nanny to come over a little early and watch him a little later?  No, I'm not Michelle Obama, and apparently that's not her style either. 

After I went through this grieving process, I resigned myself to staying home with my son, making gingerbread cookies and maybe even hitting the Playground Gym, (okay now I'm back to my first reaction: YAY!  I get to stay home with the most important person in the whole world). I called my boss at dinner time to break the news.

It's incredible to me that the first lady once had to bring her young daughter with her to a job interview - and she GOT the job!  Now I've start imagining a sci-fi future world where women are dressed a little like Uhura, but can walk around the workplace, proud of being a mom.  They are unburdened by skirts that go below their upper thigh and the worry that THE phone call will come...

"Your son has a fever, our policy says you have to pick him up in half an hour and he can not return for 24 hours after his fever has gone away - without medication."

We can stand tall, knowing our coworkers dream of being as successful and upwardly mobile as we are.  Maybe this mom-topia exists in small bits and pieces in our world today.

Maybe a meeting over coffee, kiddo in tow?

According to this great article, at the Focus on Workplace Flexibility Cnference, Ted Childs talked about how he convinced IBM to provide a 3 year leave of absence to new moms, by pointing out that it cost the company upwards of $112,000 to recruit and train a new employee.  It is simply cheaper to keep these women around.  Now IBM boasts 1,200 women executives, 72% of which are mothers!

The Costco Connections magazine has another small snippet of mom-topia in the article Carrot or Stick by Karen Haywood Queen in the December 2010 issue.  The article points to a baby's clothing store named Zutano, where a new parent can bring her baby to work, finding that their employees are actually more productive.

So, I'm going to work on Monday with my head held high, wearing big hoop earrings and super shiny nude lip gloss.  I'm a proud working mom.  I'll be there to make our world better, one beautiful building and one cute kid at a time.  My coworkers will have to admire my guts, since there won't be any glory, and maybe even compliment me on my retro knee-high boots.

Workplace Flexibility Part 1: The Phone Story



Little did we know what was in store when
we would be introduced to the world of
smart phones almost 3 years later.

 Recently I lost my cell phone.  We had gone on a play date, my purse was overstuffed with snacks, little sweaters, wipes, pull ups, old receipts, lists, and my cell phone, precariously perched on top.  The next day when I wanted to make a call on the go, I spent the next hour in a fruitless search for the little red jewel that allowed me to keep my husband in the loops when things don't go as planned.  Instead of spending another 2 hours commuting to the park, searching and commuting back, all with the risk of returning with empty hands - though no risk of an empty purse - I started hatching a plan on how to replace it.  Fast forward to today, I have a fabulous pink window into the world that I can peer into whenever I have even the tiniest moment.  This has enabled me to start reading my first book, downloaded directly to my hot pink pocket sized marvel, since I gave birth 3 years ago.

I downloaded the app for Facebook to my phone.  I live for checking the "news feed".  I can check in on what my friends and family are experiencing, including a random nonsense phase posted by my husband - the most recent was "Uchi Muchi" - that while not expressly included in my marriage vows, I still feel obligate to "like".  I also love to hear about the Mother PAC.  Who knew this kind of thing existed.  It's a volunteer political action committee, originally hoping to promote mothers to participate directly in politics, and now more realistically focusing on supporting organizations, political issues and candidates that benefit mothers and families.  What an incredible idea!

So I tell you this long winding story because the Mother PAC posted on Facebook an article about the Workforce Flexibility Conference held in Washington DC at the end of November.  I'll tell you more about it in my next post.  Stay tuned!