Of course I'd suddenly need to go on a business trip when Henry was teeny tiny. Of course.
So yeah, not long ago I hauled my hormonal post-partem butt out to LA for two days and faced something I've never had to deal with before: pumping breast milk at work.
Holy crap, what a pain in the ass.
And holy crap, do businesses *not get it.*
On the first day, not wanting to make a fuss (and, as an only-in-town-for-two-days-consultant, not really knowing anyone I could fuss to) I thought I could find a quiet room, sneak in, and do my business. So I took a lap around the office and looked for a room with a door that locked and found nothing. Instead I ended up ducking into the bathroom. But I had to do it a couple times during the day. This was problematic in a couple of ways: for one, the bathroom experience was just plain gross and awkward, and more importantly, it completely shut down my productivity. For a good 15-20 minutes I couldn't do anything except stand there (eeewwwh, I wasn't going to sit!) and pump.
My type A brain couldn't take it. Thanks to fancy pumping technology, if I had a decent set up, I could be checking email! I could be making phone calls! I could be WORKING.
So I went to my primary contact at the company (who happened to be the President) and I made my case. I explained that he was paying me by the hour, and when I had to duck away to the bathroom to pump he was losing time and money. If I had a room with a lock, and, even better - a computer, I could work while pumping. And doesn't he want that?
Once we got past the initial two minutes of awkwardness he actually listened, and get this -- seemed interested. We discussed the number of minutes it took and how many times a day I needed to do it, and then he asked me to guess how many women at the company were probably pumping in any given year. (With 60% of women breastfeeding these days, and much of his workforce in childbearing years, it was a decent amount.) You could see the numbers cranking away in his head.
There's a business case for everything, people.
They found me a room, and I worked and pumped. And I suspect (or at least hope) in the future other women at the company will now be encouraged to do the same thing.
By the way - hats off to you ladies who pump at work regularly. Warrior women, I tell you.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
The Business Case for a Mother's Room
Friday, August 06, 2010
No wonder she was so tired.
I haven't posted much lately because I'm getting my ass kicked by this whole two-kids-while-working thing. Or, to be more specific, the toddler-and-newborn-while-working thing. I remind myself all the time that many women do it, and do it without help. Like my mom.
I wish she was here so I could call and tell her how much I understand now. And how thankful I am.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Compartmentalization and Maternal Comfort
On Compartmentalization:
I just got back from my longest business trip since Aud was born. Four days away.
The first 3 days were actually pretty easy. I'm a pretty good compartmentalizer, my work was intense and distracting, the hours were long, plus I knew she was being well cared for by our absolutely-perfect nanny and near-perfect husband, so I actually managed to get through it pretty well. I even enjoyed a little wine and dinner out. Woo hoo!
On that last day though - good lord. My 'strong-working mom compartmentalization' strategy fell apart without warning at the Denver airport where I suddenly developed bionic hearing. Every baby's cry in the terminal sounded uncannily like Audrey. And I could see strollers and children everywhere. Throughout the hour or so I was there I fought the urge to grab random babies from unsuspecting mothers' arms and cuddle the bejesus out of them.
Even though she really didn't need it I snuck into her room that night and gently woke her up to give her an extra bottle. She didn't open her eyes. When she finished I rocked her back to sleep against my shoulder, rubbed her back, stroked her legs and inhaled her peaches and cream skin. In the dark of her room my eyes welled with tears. I don't think I've ever been so truly happy to be home.
The next morning when I went to get her from the crib I fully expected a big grin and flapping arms. Instead I was greeted by stone cold blinks and a pout. She didn't break into a smile all morning.
Until the nanny showed up. Then she giggled and squealed like someone just handed her a puppy.
Ouch.
So I had a pang of jealousy, and the classic guilt. But I shook it off quickly because I know motherhood is a marathon not a sprint. And this shit is going to happen and she's going to be OK. And so am I. And I had work to do.... so I couldn't sit there and feel bad about it.
On Maternal Comfort:
We're staying with my in-laws this week while some rather smelly and toxic work gets done in the house (more on that later.) Aud won't let me put her down for a second. I'm sure its her being out of her routine, or teething, or being in a new environment, but she bawls when any of my in-laws touch her. Or when I put her down to change her. Or when I try to make dinner. I keep wishing it would be so nice if she could just chill out. Both so she could bond with them, and so I could blow dry my hair. But this is the ebb and flow of things. Sometimes you get the silent treatment and sometimes your baby clings to you like Velcro.
I've been missing my mom a lot more this week as well. We're approaching the six month anniversary of her death which has been weighing in my mind lately. The actual time since I last talked to her is beginning to feel so achingly distant. Like an island sinking on the horizon as I float away into a life that moves forward. With the house project, our move out here, travel, and some stuff going on at work, I've been over-tired and overburdened too, which makes me yearn for someone who can just quiet me and make me feel better. A mom, say.
But, alas, my mom is gone. I'm the mom now.
Last night while I was winding down to sleep it occurred to me I was getting annoyed with Aud because she wanted the same thing I did.
Oh baby girl.
If she wants me to hold her this week while we're all out of whack, so be it.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Milestones
So not long ago I started the wretched evil process known as post-partum dieting. I cut out carbs, reduced wine consumption, and actually started working out. Blech. Hate it. But not as much as I hate hate hate being GINORMOUS. So there you go.
With that sort of positive outlook and energy you can imagine the sigh I let out when I hit the scale this morning and found that I have finally reached my pre-pregnancy *all time high* weight. Yeah. That. I’m now back to my pre-pregnancy range, which (I am trying to tell myself), is good. Unfortunately though it’s a number that represents the FATTEST I ever was before having a baby. A number that says I still have a way to go. A number that still sucks.
I remember passing that number (on the way up) when I was at the doctor’s last year. I had a flash of panic that went something like: “Whoa whoa! Red alert people! We are in a whole new territory here. We are experiencing numbers never seen before in LaPlante fat-ass history”, but then I remembered I was pregnant and promptly got myself a big ol’ chocolate chip muffin at the coffee shop downstairs.
Damn muffin. Now I’m paying.
Audrey recently hit a weight and height milestone as well. She’s outgrown most of her 3-6 month clothes. Putting away her little newborn and 3 month outfits made me so wistful. I already miss how snoozy and cuddly she was. I stood in front of her closet thinking, “I wonder what I can do to freeze her at this size.” Hmmm.
Then it occurred to me that I needed to save the outfits for… get this… the next baby.
Can I just skip the losing weight thing and jump right to the muffins again? Not a good reason to get pregnant, right?
Sunday, May 10, 2009
No thinking = Great Mother's Day. Who knew?
I was afraid to set up too many expectations for today. For one, obviously, because of my mom. But for another, because it was my first. So a few days back I let go and just decided to not worry about it and let the day roll. My goals were simple: enjoy my new family, cherish my daughter, see what Mother's Day feels like - for me.
We went to brunch down the street, swung in swings at the park and took several naps. It was wonderfully relaxing and felt so indulgent. (Important disclosure: the wickedly naughty cocktail at 10 am brunch didn't hurt.) And I liked how complete strangers and neighbors tell you "Happy Mothers Day". It's a unique and lovely recognition.
Just a really great day. And a great lesson. I didn't think about the past, I didn't worry about the future. No coulda/shoulda stuff. I just concentrated on the sweet smile of my baby girl, her peaches and cream breath, and the joy on the face of my husband as she grabbed at his scratchy beard while cuddled in his arms.
It's all good.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Mother's Day
Obviously I knew Mother's Day would be hard. I've been bracing myself, actually. But it comes at you from everywhere. One unavoidable reminder -- for the last few days I've been getting spam emails reminding me that I should tell my mom how much I love her, or should make sure to send her flowers, etc. So it's been a big week of wincing and unsubscribing.
I got a piece of great advice from my friend Heidi though. She suggested I take the money I would have spent on a gift for mom and buy myself something she would have wanted me to have. I still had the gift certificate she gave me for Christmas too, so I took that and combined it with the money I would have spent on her and bought an outrageously expensive pair of sunglasses with a little more glam than I normally would be into. (My mom LOVED glam. She was a Joan Collin's lovin' big gold wearing glam queen.) AND I got 25% off by charming the guy behind the counter, which she would have enjoyed. It was pretty fun.
So even though I was quite happy with my purchase, when I got to the car I burst into tears. Normally at that moment I would call her to tell her how I spent the gift card. But no.
It washes over you suddenly. You breathe and then you move on. Or in my case, I called my sister and she helped me breathe and move on.
I've been taking a lot of comfort in the fact that my last Mother's Day gift to my mom was (and this is her words) her "best ever". Last year on Mother's Day I told my mom I was pregnant. She was the happiest I've ever heard her.
So I'm just going to focus on that. Best ever.
Mom and Me. My last picture with her. My shower. October 2008.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
TMI warning. Discussion involving girly business.
Seriously. If you're a male (like my FIL or my dad) stop reading now. You won't like it.
Ah, who am I kidding? They never visit anyway. Ladies? Shall we...
So yesterday my body made it violently clear that its ready to have another baby. I'm sort of floored by this. Already? Really? I'm not breastfeeding, which I guess means this shouldn't have been a surprise, but REALLY? I just am feeling human again. And my body is... oh jesus... a DISASTER. I guess I'm somewhat horrified and amazed at the same time. It's a marvelous thing, the female body. It's breathtaking, really. But wow.
And here's a hilarious thought -- before I got pregnant and the whole back thing happened our plan was to actually pop two kids out one right after another. (I'm not getting any younger, remember?) So if I were to follow the plan now we'd be fine with this turn of events. Happy probably! Let me say today though --- OH NO. Whoa boy. Let's slow this down. Age be damned. I need a breather. At least a little one. And the back needs to heal.
In other TMI news. I paid $50 to find out when my mom went through menopause. Yea, that's a weird one, right? Recently it occurred to me I had no idea when my mom went through it and at some point down the road I think I'm going to want to know that sort of info. And probably lots of other medical history facts that I never bothered to ask her about (you know, because she was supposed to live a while.) And not just for me - for my sister and Aud... So I paid to get a copy of her medical records. It arrived -- all 64 pages of it -- with a huge thud. I could understand absolutely NOTHING from the doctors notes, but found myself sad looking at mom's writing. Each little check mark on a form (you know, "no, no history of seizures" etc.) felt oddly like a little piece of her. It was harder than I expected.
I got what I wanted though. In 2007 she wrote down her last cycle was 5 years prior. So she was 55. Now I know.
If anyone knows a doctor who would be willing to translate the rest, I'd be appreciative.
Monday, March 09, 2009
3 months
Milestones:
Audrey:
Me:
Mr. Anderson:
Friday, February 20, 2009
First Playdate
So she didn't get out of her carrier, but Audball went on her first playdate this week at our local library. New-to-this mom (that would be me) didn't even think to be on guard when a toddler rushed forward to put a toy in Audrey's mouth. In an instant another mother lept over an innocent bystander child to snatch the public library germ-filled object back, while all I could manage was a weak response of "Oh. That's nice that you'll share your plastic corn with Audrey."
The been-there-done-that-always-thinking mom (that would be Emily) captured the momentous event. Boy I look tired.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
It's a girl!!
Audrey Jane Anderson
December 7, 2008, 8:10 pm
8 lbs, 15 oz., 21.5 inches
Her Name:
Audrey after my great grandma. Jane after J's Grandmother.
Nicknames:
Audball. The A bomb. Little Monkey. Anderson Pooper.
Likes:
"Getting groceries" (aka nursing), plus sucking daddy's fingers, and the tip of his nose.
Dislikes:
Pacifiers. Sleeping.
Other Tricks:
Can scooch and crawl up daddy's chest if she's laying on top of him.
Can get her hands out of the tightest, most insanely snug swaddles.
Labor Details:
Not sure if it was the trip to Lowe's, acupuncture, the raspberry tea, or the curry dinner, or the combination of all of them but I started getting contractions on Saturday night around 10 pm or so. We called our doula at around 1 am.
Yup, I said doula. The first 7-8 hours of labor were at home with Mr. Anderson and our fantastic doula, Jen.
Now before you think I've gone all granola on you, the back story is this: My goal for labor was to put off medical intervention for as long as possible in order to protect my back. Sounds counter intuitive, but when you get an epidural you can't feel *anything*, which is problem because when you have a herniated disc, you only know if you're re-triggering the herniation by the type of pain you feel down your leg. If you can't feel any pain, you can't correct and realign. By pushing an epidural until as late as possible, I could move around and control my positioning, thereby protecting my lumbar area. (And as bonus, holding off on the epidural also reduced my chances of needing pitocin, thereby reducing my chances of c-section, which would have also put my back at risk, plus made recovery harder.) So there you go. Your type A working girl turns granola. Anything to never go through that back pain again.
Actually, I should say I was really happy with the experience I had during those first 8 hours. Not just because I successfully protected my back, but being at home was actually were a very special experience. Let me just say, my husband was an amazing support -- we really became a "team", and our doula kept us both calm. By the time we left to head downtown at sunrise, I was moving into active labor, but feeling confident and anxious to meet the baby.
At the hospital things got a little tougher. After the epidural, everything slowed down. I was really limited to just one position because of the pain meds and my back, which made dilation progress less quickly (freakin' 8 hours to go the last 3 cm!), and in the end pushing took 3 hours and yielded very little. We finally had to bring our baby into the world via "salad tongs" (Andersonese for Forceps).
In the end I was so exhausted I could barely see a foot in front of me, but when the baby actually came out Mr. Anderson lifted me up a little and in all the commotion, I only heard him. He said, "Look, it's Audrey!"
In that instant everything cleared away and we were a family. So here we are. She's perfect, healthy and feisty. We're very happy.
Give us a few more days to figure things out before you demand more pictures. (That means you, mom.) We truly appreciate all the good wishes and support.
