Photo Friday: Play!

I have a thoughtful, possibly controversial post brewing. But in the meantime I'm participating in Cali's Photo Friday again. The theme this week is Play! As I said in my post about guilt, Sunshine's daycare is great. I love seeing her play with her little friends. She and her buddy (disguised in the photo) are always watching each other to see what the other is doing. They learned to clap hands within a week of each other. They were just so cute together this particular morning, I had to grab the camera.

Whatever You Can Spare

When I look at my happy, healthy daughter, sometimes my heart breaks for the children who are not healthy. And of course, for their parents. I read about Dominic Austin on another blog. Sometimes there is nothing we can do. Here is a case where every little bit can make a difference. Little Dominic's prognosis is not good (although, there is hope). Anything that can make this time a tiny bit less stressful for his parents is a good thing.

So please check out this link and give whatever you can. Whatever you spent on lunch yesterday, or maybe your last visit to Starbux. Thanks, peeps!

On Guilt

Much to my Jewish mother’s chagrin, I’ve never really done guilt well. I think I just don’t have the guilt gene. Much has been written about Mom Guilt, but I really have to say, I don’t suffer from it. I hear about it so much, that I occasionally wonder if I should be feeling it. But generally, I think it’s a waste of energy. As a single, working mom, my energy is a precious commodity.

Of course I want to be the best mom I can be. To me, that means not driving myself into the ground to do so. I truly believe happy mom equals happy baby.

I don’t feel guilty for not exclusively breastfeeding. Sunshine is 7 1/2 months old, and I am still nursing. But she has been getting formula in addition to mommy milk for quite a while. I pumped for a couple of months at work. It was awful. I don’t have an office where I can close the door, so I was pumping in an overheated utility room. I was stressed about the time it took (I never got the hang of double pumping), and getting my work done. All that stress meant I often didn’t produce much milk. So I gradually cut back on the amount of time I pumped, then the number of times per day, until my supply adjusted so I could go through the work day without pumping and nurse Sunshine at home. She has never had any problem going back and forth between boob and bottle. She’s very healthy, so what is there to be guilty about. (BTW, I also use “generic” formula and disposable diapers without guilt. Target rocks.)

We live in an apartment without a washer and dryer. The washer and dryer are in the basement. I have to go out of the building and around to the back for the basement door. Did I mention I work full time? So no guilt for me about disposables. (FYI, I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the Target brand diapers. They provide better coverage than the name brand ones, and are half the price.)

I miss my daughter like crazy when I’m at work, but I have no guilt about daycare. I looked into other childcare options, and am very happy with her daycare. As a single mother by choice, I am obviously the sole source of income for our family. In this economy, I’m lucky to have a good job with excellent benefits. Sunshine has been in daycare since she was 13 weeks old. She has gotten exactly ONE cold. She caught it when she was 5 months old, and knocked it out in 4 days. She was a trooper. I caught it from her, and felt like crap for a week and a half. I love that I can put her down of the floor of the infant room at her daycare and she can safely roll and scoot all over. I can’t say that about our apartment. They have loads of toys, they read books and listen to music, and in nice weather they go out to their private playground. Sunshine has no stranger anxiety at all. She’s curious about everyone, but when she sees someone she recognizes, she lights up. Big smiles and laughter. I think she also enjoys the other kids at daycare. She’s a social one, my girl. The staff has also succumbed to her charm. Last Friday, when I picked her up and was about to put her in the stroller, the pre-school teacher came over and asked if she could hold her for a minute. She often helps out in the infant room, and said, “I haven’t had any time with her for the last few days. I’ve missed her.” Why should I feel guilty about more people loving her?

I recently read a post on a message board by a mom who was feeling guilty about getting rid of some of her kid’s toys, as the child had so many. Oh, please … give a kid a pot and a wooden spoon. Some paper and crayons. More stuff does not equal a better childhood. When I was pregnant, a few people asked me about the nursery. What nursery? It’s a one bedroom apartment! It’s tight, but we’re fine. We will soon be moving to a bigger apartment. It will be great for us. But Sunshine will probably continue to sleep with me for a while. Yes, we cosleep. Without guilt, of course.

Then there are the big issues. Donor conceived and no daddy. Oh yeah, and older mom. We’ll just have to deal with these things as they come up. No matter how families are formed, there’s always something. Feeling guilty about these things will not make them easier. I think it would make them harder. Children sense their parent’s feelings. I hope that since I am more than okay with how our family came about, I’m proud of it, that she’ll be proud, too.

People constantly comment about how much she smiles and laughs. I figure I must be doing something right.

Cherished

Do infertiles cherish their children more than fertiles? Maybe. I don’t think anyone would disagree that baby-loss mamas have a particularly deep appreciation of their living children. Am I the only one who thinks about this when I check my daughter’s breathing at night? Or when I watch her sleep, in awe that she’s actually here?

I’ve been wanting to write a post about parenting after infertility for a while. I was spurred on by an incident I witnessed on the subway on my way home from work earlier this week. Now keep in mind that it has been about a gajillion degrees in NYC this week. A mother and her three children got on the train. Two girls, maybe twins, or maybe just very close in age. About 4-5 years old. And their big brother, who looked to be about 7. The mother looked irritated and distracted. She was on her cell phone. There were three seats available, so she sat down in one seat with one girl in her lap (who she ignored, even though she was holding her), and the boy sat next to her, with the other girl next to him. The girl on the end immediately cuddled up to her brother. He cuddled her back. She was all in his space, playing and grabbing and laughing. He was wonderful with her. Patient, loving and playful. My heart swelled watching this. Mom ignored it, continuing to talk on her phone. Seats opened up on the other side of her, so she put the other girl next to her. The children were energetic and not quiet. The mom snapped. She yelled at them and smacked the girl next to her. There were too many people between us for me to see exactly how and where she smacked the girl. It didn’t sound particularly hard, but still … there was no need for it. She started crying. Mom ignored her and continued her phone call. Her big brother went over and held her and comforted her.

It’s hard to know what, if anything, to say in these kind of situations. As I was about to get off the train I told the boy he was a great big brother and that I could tell his sisters loved him so much. I expect there will be times with Sunshine that I will lose my cool. My patience is not infinite. But I can not imagine behaving as this mother did. Yelling and hitting children because they were playing too loudly? That’s not discipline. That’s just fucked up.

Back to parenting after infertility. Well, I don’t have any other experience to compare it to. I just love her so much! Every day it seems like my heart expands a little more. She is such a happy baby, I want her to have the happiest childhood ever. I am always aware of what a miracle she is. There are still cycling reminders in my apartment. The last sharps container with the PIO needles in my linen closet that I can’t part with. The unused needles and syringes in my kitchen cabinet, next to the glasses. (I keep thinking I’ll use some of them one day to inject butter and drippings into a turkey breast, like I read in a NYT article about surrogacy, but I certainly don’t need to save as many as I have in there.) Then there’s Sunshine herself. As she gets older, it’s more and more obvious to others that she doesn’t look like me. (Except for the chubby thighs!) She really looks like her sibs, my donor’s children. Sometimes I explain her origins, and sometimes I don’t. For me, it’s cool that I get a bit of a preview of what she’ll look like as she gets older by looking at pictures of J and E. She’s gorgeous! When I come to get her after work, her face lights up when she sees me. I’m her mommy. The one who nurses her, who cuddles her, who wipes away her very occasional tears. I can only hope she won’t have any problems with the fact that we don’t look alike. I hope that she will be like this girl. Proud of who she is and how she came to be.

She is my precious gift. I wish all children were cherished that way.

Dear Mr. Jobs

Dear Mr. Jobs,

Saturday was my mommy’s birthday. We went to the Apple Store. We had fun! I wanted to buy mommy an iPad, but my dress didn’t have pockets, so I didn’t have any money. If you give my mommy an iPad, you can put my picture in a magazine. I’m also available for commercials, but mommy says I would need money for college. I could laugh at the funny PC man. He’s so silly!

Love and kisses,
Sunshine

P.S. Mommy says all her computers have been Macs, and they’ve never, ever gotten a computer virus. Whatever that is!

The BEST Birthday Present!

Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm going to be (GASP!) 47. I am so grateful for the medical advances that have enabled me to be a mother at my age. And the incredible gift of donor embryos that became my daughter. Waking up tomorrow with this joyful little person is the best birthday gift I can imagine. She slept through the night Wednesday night. It was divine! It was not repeated last night, so I'm not counting on it tonight. But regardless, she ALWAYS wakes up with a smile. She truly is my Sunshine.

So, because it pleases me, and I'm the birthday girl, here are a bunch of pictures from the past month.

Hahahahahaha! The world is just a funny place!

Cribs are for daycare, right? I love the blankie Aunt Kathy knitted for me. It's so soft.

Sometimes when mommy brings me to daycare she takes pictures.

She says I'm stylin' in these shorts.

Yeah, I'm tough! Whatcha got for me?

Peaches? Yup, I like 'em!

I like to chew on mommy's blankie. I don't know why she took a picture of it.

Photo Friday: Shoes

Since I have screwed up feet and wear ugly shoes and sandals most of the time, I thought I'd feature my little imp for Cali's Photo Friday. These shoes are one of the very few things I bought for her when I was pregnant. I put them on for the photo, then took them right off. They don't stay on very well, and I know they won't stay on at daycare. She doesn't manage to keep socks on while there. She's almost always barefoot when I pick her up. In my mind, one of the upsides of her being a donor embryo baby is that she will not inherit my bad feet (which I got from both parents).