Graem - Pictures

Graem's Birth Story

It was about 2:30 am on a Tuesday morning.  I was sleeping.  I awoke to feel something trickling  down my leg.  I prayed it was not blood.

I got up, and water started gushing. I knew what this was.  Same thing happened with Sienna. 

But, I was not prepared for this. I still had almost exactly one month to go (35 weeks/5 days).

I woke up Tygh.  Calm and collected, he told me to call the dr.  The dr. told me to go to the hospital. 

I wandered aimlessly around the house, waiting for Tygh's mother to arrive to watch Brae and Sienna.  I had nothing packed.  I didn't even know where to begin.

I finally managed to throw some stuff in a backpack, and we were out the door.

We headed to the best NICU hospital in the area, just in case.

When we arrived in triage, the nurses weren't sure it was really my amniotic fluid.  I assured them it was.  Nonetheless, it took about 45 minutes for a positive test to come back, and they admitted me.  We were going to have this baby, early or not.  I was 3 cm and 80%.

Contractions started pretty soon after that, but then died down.  We started Pitocin.  That was slow to kick in.  I walked around the hospital, bounced on a yoga ball, and they kept upping the Pitocin. 

I labored without drugs until I was about 8 cm.  Then, I got them.  As an aside, I continue to admire moms who labor without any drugs (like Brae's birthmom).  I feel I could have done it, physically, but mentally, not so sure.

I got the epidural just in time.  An hour and three pushes later, we were surprised and blessed with a baby boy.  He is the only genetic link to Tygh's side of the family that will carry on the family name.  I know that is special for Tygh.  Hence, it was important to him that he have a Gaelic/Irish name, like Brae.  Thus, Graem was born.  5:16 p.m.  Tuesday, July 1, 2014.  He was 6 lbs., 7 oz.  18 inches long. 

NICU staff was present for his birth, just in case.  However, when he came out crying, they left. 

Graem did great for about the first hour.  Then, he started grunting when he was breathing.  Slowly, the grunting increased in intensity and was constant.  The nurses said that was a sign he was struggling to breathe. 

Around 10 p.m., the nurses took him to NICU for observation.  At 2 a.m. the next day, he was put on CPAP (a breathing assistance machine), a feeding tube, and hooked up to all kinds of monitors.

I broke down in the nurse's arms when I saw him for the first time like that.  It was so... unexpected.  All of it. 

And, there he stayed, under 24 hour NICU supervision for the next 4 days.  I visited every day, multiple times a day, even after I was discharged just two days after he was born.  It was excruciating leaving the hospital without him. 

On the fifth day in NICU, the doctor thought he was improving enough to be taken off CPAP.  So, he was, and never looked back.  Although he kept losing weight, his breathing was getting stronger.  Finally, a day shy of 1-week old, we were able to bring Graem home.  It was one of the biggest reliefs of my life. 

Graem's birth story is unique, like every child's.  I'm so grateful for the NICU staff.  I'm so grateful Graem was as big as he was, one month early.  The doctor said that is the single biggest factor in why he was likely discharged sooner than expected.  Apparently, most 35-weekers that have breathing problems are in the NICU for weeks.   So, I now look back at the last several months, particularly, where I seemed to be gaining weight so rapidly.  Everyone commented about how large I was getting, for still having so far to go.

Well, now we know.  God was preparing his little body to be better equipped to enter this world sooner than we all expected. 

Graem was the biggest baby in the NICU, by far.  He was also the latest term baby.  Most of his neighbors were born around 31 weeks, weighing just a pound or two.  And yet, by the grace of God and modern medicine, each of them will likely be just fine.  (There's a NICU reunion every year.  A club I never thought I'd be a part of). 

I'm surprised to have a genetic child, period.  I'm surprised it's a boy.  It is all surreal.  I have a picture of Graem as a 4-day old morula.  And now, he lays before me, today, on what would have been his 37th week in utero. 

It's magical.

"Some babies are born in nine months, by the clock.  Some babies are born, and they sit up and talk.  Some babies are born, and no doctor is there.  But some babies come in on a wing and a prayer."

- Garrison Keillor.

An unexpected delivery

On Tuesday, July 1, at about 2:30 am, my water broke.  Exactly one month early.

We went to the hospital, it took them a while to confirm it was in fact my water, and then I was admitted.  I started contracting on my own, and eventually got Pitocin.  I was able to labor to about 8cm until I got the epidural.  About an hour after that, our son was born, at 5:16 p.m. 

He weighed 6 lbs., 7 oz., and was 18 inches long.

He did well for about the first hour and then we could tell he was laboring to breathe.  They monitored him for several hours and then took him to the NICU around 10 p.m.  Around 2 am, he was placed on the CPAP machine to help him breathe easier, and was given a feeding tube.

Last night, he graduated to the next level at NICU, but remains on CPAP and a feeding tube.  I was discharged yesterday, and it was heart wrenching leaving him behind.  I plan on visiting him 3x/day until we can bring him home.  At this point, we are hoping that will be sometime next week.

So many feelings, thoughts, etc. running through me right now.  But this is all I can manage to write at the moment.

Praise God our son, Graem Owen George Colton, is here.

35 week appointment and Sienna's 3-year stats

I turned 35 weeks yesterday.  I'm so ready to be done with this pregnancy (and yet, trying to be so grateful at the same time for this amazing miracle).

I was able to get a 3-D ultrasound yesterday (babies still look a little odd at this stage, IMO), but it was still super cute.  Some pictures looked like it could be a girl, and some looked like it could be a boy.  So, I remain blissfully clueless about this little one's gender.

Baby is weighing 5 lbs., 7 oz.  That is right about 50%, and the nurse said I should be on track to have a 7-8 lb baby (which would be the smallest baby ever born to my husband's side of the family).  Baby's heart rate fluctuated between 139-155 bpm.  It's head down (I don't think it's ever been head up), and looks mighty squished in there.

We've settled on names (finally) for this little one.  Hannah if it is a girl.  There is a lot of meaning associated with that name, for us.  It would have been Brae's name if he had been a girl.  It's Brae's birthmom's last name.  It's the woman in the Bible who struggled with infertility.  It goes really well with Sienna.  And, my middle name and my sister's middle name is each Ann.

If it's a boy, I'm leaning towards Drew.  Tygh is very picky when it comes to boy names, and on his list, this is my favorite.

***
Last week, Sienna had her 3 year check up.  She is still off the charts for height at 39 1/2 inches.  She's 90th percentile for weight at 36 lbs.  She's just a tall, sturdy little girl.

The doctor noted that she seemed quite sassy (that's not hard to pick up), but that she otherwise is a healthy little girl.  She prefers water over any other beverage. She loves salads with ranch dressing.  She's a champion sleeper.  She's been potty-trained for 6 months.  She is a fish in the water.  She loves playing dress up.  And she loves animals.  If I were to predict, this girl will be a vet or do something with animals.

She seems generally unaware of the fact that she's going to be a big sister soon, although she's got all the right lingo down.  She has started wanting to try the baby's pacifiers, and crawling into the crib.  I'm trying to prepare for some regression in her.

All in all, life is good.  We feel extremely blessed with how God has shaped our family. 

And I just cannot wait for this next month to be over.

Sienna's 3rd birthday party

Last weekend, we held a joint birthday party for Sienna and a friend of hers from preschool.  They both turned 3 within days of each other.

The theme was puppies.  Sienna loves dogs. 

The other mom graciously took on the task of planning the entire party.  I just helped fund it.  She went all out with the puppy theme, including serving hot dogs, puppy chow, and "ruff"age.

She made dog ears for the kids, dog collars with their names on them, had dog bone water bottles, and each kid got to adopt a stuffed puppy to take home.

All in all, a great success!

A Hard Week

This last week has been hard.  Three members of our family were hospitalized.  One just got out.  One remains.  One died.

Even one of these events is enough to cause you to pause, and put life in perspective.  All three at once is enough to paralyze you. 

Someone very smart once said that life is but a series of trials.  We are all either in a trial, just leaving one, or about to enter into one. 

I don't feel that I'm currently in a trial (although one could argue everyday life is a trial).  I also don't feel that I've just left a trial.  So, that must mean I'm about to go into one.

I could take that and become paranoid about it, or I could choose instead to relish every single morsel of time until then.  I could become obsessed with the eventuality of the next trial, or I could choose to be grateful for the moment, and not let the little things in my life swell into a fabricated trial (e.g., not let the fact that Brae has broken the blinds in his room become the central thought of  my day).

I know that the next trial is coming.  I don't know when, or what it will be.  But, I commit to entering it with grace, enduring it with thanksgiving, and leaving it with a lesson to tell and a helping hand to deliver.

Family Photos 2014

A few weeks ago, we had our annual "family photo session."  The weather was amazing, and the kids were (relatively) cooperative.  Enjoy!

Scenes from our last Kid-less vacation

Last week, we took (sniff, sniff) our last kid-less vacation, at least for a while.  With baby #3 on the way, our families (who have so wonderfully watched Brae and Sienna while we've galavanted on other trips), have admitted that three little ones is simply too much to take on.  We understand. 

So, with heavy hearts, we flew off to Mexico for one last trip sans kids.  Some friends joined us, and it was an amazing trip. 

We talked to the kids every night, and I'm thoroughly convinced we missed them way more than they missed us. 

But, when we arrived at the airport, they were there (surprise!) waiting for us.  Sienna nearly teared up when she saw me.  They both looked so much older - after only a week.  Each was a little clingy for the first few days, but we've now settled back into normal life routine. 

It is such a cliche, but as much as we love vacations, we also love being back home.

I returned and had a belated 28-week appointment.  I passed my glucose test, but learned that I'm slightly anemic.  More beans and legumes for me.  But, that does explain some lightheadedness and fatigue I've been feeling. 

I'm thrilled to be in the third trimester, and heading downhill, and just cannot wait to meet this little one - and figure out what the heck to call it.

Brae-isms

Some recent favorites from my favorite 5-year-old:

1) "Mommy, is God preparing a house for me in heaven?"

"Yes."

"And is He preparing a house for you?"
 
"Yes."

"When I get to heaven, I want to be your neighbor."

2) Our beloved sister-in-law endured a miscarriage earlier this year.  Since we had told Brae about the baby before the miscarriage, we had to tell him the baby had not survived further. 

"Mommy, is the baby in Auntie's tummy in heaven?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well, that's where God wanted it."

"Because God doesn't have a baby of His own?"

3) "Brae, did you go to timeout today?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

(Shrugging).  "Mommy, I can't remember how to stay out of timeout."

4) We tell Brae it's important to eat all his food so he grows up big and strong.  After throwing up, Brae one morning, Brae turned to me and said, "Mom, I'm a little bit smaller today."

Spring Photos

                                         Playing in spring mud puddles.

                                       A wedding date night.  25 weeks preggo.

                                           Cousins painting Easter eggs.

                    Trying to capture the elusive perfect cousin-grandparent Easter photo.

                Trying to grab an Easter photo as we rush out the door in the morning.  Always an exercise in futility.


Hope you had a Happy Easter!

24 week appointment and an Unexpected Encounter

Last week, I had my 24 week appointment.  It was the kind you dream of as a pregnant woman, and yet are also a little disappointed by.  It was completely uneventful.  Good, in so many ways.  But then it also makes me kick myself for spending 1.5 hours out of my day driving to and from the appointment, waiting in the lobby, peeing in a cup, etc.

I'm measuring on track, and may even be slightly ahead of the game in the weight gain department (hey, I have some catching up to do after all that nausea/vomiting!).  Baby's heartbeat was 150sh.

Baby is moving feverishly.  Watching my belly move is like watching a popcorn bag pop in the microwave.

I continue to feel extremely grateful for this opportunity, and yet am so excited to just get to D-day!

Also last week, I had an unexpected encounter.  A friend asked me to meet a friend of hers for coffee to discuss a possible career change.  As we were talking, the conversation turned to families.  She indicated she had adopted a son, who was now 16 months old.  No stranger to conversations like this - and clearly no shame, either -- I politely inquired as to why she had adopted.  Infertility, she said.

I immediately felt a little saddened by this response, and yet, know it was also the reason we initially turned to adoption.  It is too bad that for so many of us, adoption is our "Plan B," when it turns out it was God's "Plan A" for us all along.

In any event, we continued to talk about infertility and adoption.  I then asked her about embryo adoption.  Her eyes widened.  She'd never heard of such a thing.  So, I told her all about it.  I could see the intrigue brewing in her eyes.  

Later, I emailed her information about NEDC, and told her to keep in touch.

It felt so good to, if nothing else, bring the possibility of some additional hope to someone who thought that pregnancy was a lost cause for them.  Sure, she could do embryo adoption and never get pregnant.  And, if that's the case, then if nothing else, she may herself have an unexpected encounter where she can pass that hope like a torch on to someone else. 

Birth orders

This week, I got curious about what it supposedly means to be at a certain spot in the birth order.  This fascinates me because none of my children will be where they were "supposed" to be.  Brae is the oldest in our family, and yet, he has an older half-sister.  Sienna will be the middle child in our family, and yet she is the youngest in her genetic family, with two older siblings.  This next Colton baby will be the youngest, and yet, if we had gone about creating a family in the "traditional" sense, he/she would have been the oldest. 

According to some sites, this is what birth order means, and whether it rings true with my kiddos:

Oldest (Brae) -- These siblings tend to:

1) Take responsibility for siblings (yes)
2) Get along with authority figures (does Mom and Dad count?)
3) Be high achievers (yes)
4) Need to feel right, perfect, or superior (yes)
5) Be the "good" kids who follow the rules and set examples for siblings (debatable)


Middle (Sienna) (this is a little unfair to her, because she doesn't know yet she will soon be the middle child) -- These siblings tend to:

1) Try to catch up to older child's achievements (not really)
2) Try to be opposite of older child (yes)
3) Rebel to find their own place (yes)
4) Have the ability to get along with almost anyone (mostly, yes)
5) Have an easy going approach to life (yes)

Youngest (Colton baby) (perhaps a look into the future) -- These siblings tend to:

1) Be spoiled (probably)
2) Be clever, self indulgent, and highly creative (sounds like Brae)
3) Be treated as the baby (oh, joy)
4) Suffer from low self esteem (oh, no)


An interesting caution I've seen given to parents is that when the second, third, etc. child comes along, there doesn't seem to be as many pictures taken, videos, etc.  I raise my hand shamefully on this one.  I haven't even taken a belly picture with this precious baby yet.  I know Sienna's photos are also woefully behind her brothers (and yet, she's also lived half a lifetime less than he has, so I can't be too hard on myself).

I'm excited to see how our family takes shape and how each child's personality develops. 

The Invitation.

The wedding invitation is in the mail to us.

It is from our birthmother.  She is inviting us to her wedding.

I just cannot get over how cool it is to have this special relationship with the woman who bore my son. 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  Open adoption - in all its forms - is an invitation.  It's a gift.  The opportunity to have a tangible relationship with the woman (and man) who helped breathe life into our son is beyond humbling. 

Apart from its metaphysical beauty, it also has incredible application.  Case in point: Sienna has been getting strange blotchy spots on her face and has had a cough for a while.  I reached out to our donor family and they told me of the family history of eczema, allergies, and asthma.  Armed with this information, I knew what medical course of action to take, and Sienna is healing.

I feel so blessed at the way God has created our family.

And, just because it's been a while, here are some recent (cute) pictures of the Colton kids, introducing the newest member in his/her photographic debut:

21 week: Questionnaire

At the urging of my sister-in-law (who is also pregnant, with twins - and donating the remaining embryos!), here is my "Pregnancy Update Questionnaire" (probably more for my own posterity than anything else):

How far along: 20.5 weeks (21 weeks on Thursday).  Halfway through the second trimester!

Current symptoms: So much better than even a month ago.  I threw up every day, and was nauseated all day, from weeks 7-16.  At my 15 week appointment, I had gained zero pounds.  A week later, after feeling better, I'd gained 6(!).  I still have waves of nausea, and still occasionally toss my cookies, but at least it's not at the same level of frequency or intensity.

Total weight gain: I'm not entirely sure since I don't really know where I started at, but I think it's between 10-15 lbs.  At my last appointment, the doctor said I was on track to gain 25-30 for this pregnancy.  

Maternity clothes: Yes, since about week 7.  I popped very early on this one. 

Stretch marks: Thank goodness, no.  Doesn't run in my family.

Sleep: Very difficult to come by. I take Unisom on occasion to help me sleep.

Best moment of this week: Getting to see the baby on the 20-week ultrasound, sucking its thumb and rubbing its feet together.

Miss anything: RUNNING!

Movement: All the time.  My placenta is high and in the back, so I've actually felt this one move since probably week 12.

Food cravings: I go through waves of salty vs. sugar.  Nothing consistent, though.

Anything making you queasy or sick: I get more nauseated in the evening, or when I'm very fatigued.  I have to eat very slowly.

Have you started to show yet: My co-worker just told me that if I told her I was due in a month, she'd believe me.  So, yes.

Gender: It's a surprise! We have no idea. I want a girl.  Tygh, Brae, and Sienna each want a boy. 

20-Week Ultrasound and Appointment

If I was a more tech-savvy person, I'd post a picture from our 20-week ultrasound.

Since I'm not, I'll have to just paint it with words.

Everything looked great.  There were "absolutely no" (quoting tech and dr) abnormal markers or measurements at all.  Given what we've been through our entire infertility journey, and the "scare" we got last week, this came as a bit of a surprise. 

God knows what He's doing.

Baby was generally cooperative.  Not too much wiggling around.  We saw baby suck its thumb and rub its feet.

Tech kept commenting on "how beautiful" our baby was.  I liked her instantly.

We resisted the urge to find out gender.  So the tech told us to look away when she got to that part.  I can tell already that it's going to be hard for the medical team to keep this a secret.  Not because they don't want to, but because it's so natural to use a pronoun when you know the gender.  The doctor talked to me very cautiously after the ultrasound, just trying to keep referring to the baby as "baby" and not "he" or "she." 

It is very exciting to not know the gender.  It makes the next 20 weeks that much more anticipation-filled, for me. 

I will say, though, the baby's profile did look an awful lot like Tygh.  Or, at least Tygh's sisters.  The baby even had Tygh's "Barney Rubble" feet.  This baby, so far, has no obvious indication it looks like me. 

It's no matter.  I'm completely smitten with this little creature inside of me, and can't wait to meet him or her this summer.

Down Syndrome

We did the sequential blood screening for Down Syndrome and some other diseases and chromosomal abnormalities.

The first test came back normal.  "Average" reading for risk of Down Syndrome for someone my age.

The second test came back abnormal, for Down Syndrome.  My risk, for my age, should be 1:250.  It had jumped to 1:39.  All other results normal.

That is still only a 2.5% chance, but it got my attention.  I spoke several times with the genetics counselor, and eventually ended up meeting with her and a perinatologist.  Even if the test came back positive, there has to be an explanation for the hormone levels in my blood, they said.  The other explanation is how my placenta is functioning.  It may be "leaking," which puts me at greater risk for pre-term labor.

No, I said.  I will not do an amnio.  I didn't have to, they said.  There is a new blood test that is 99% accurate at detecting Down Syndrome.  It will tell me yes or no.  No probabilities. 

I'll do it.

That was last week.  Over the last week, I've had a lot of time to process this.  And, I've come to the conclusion that if this baby has Down Syndrome, it is a blessing.  We will have been chosen to care for a very special child.  It's an honor.

To my surprise, not everyone feels that way.  In fact, over 80% of women who learn their child has Down Syndrome terminate the pregnancy.

That was not going to be us.  We would love this baby.  This baby would be perfect in God's sight, and it would be a gift. 

I just got the call.

99% this baby does not have Down Syndrome.

It's strange to describe how I feel right now.  For the last week, I had pictured life with a child who has Down Syndrome.  And I had come to love this baby I feel kicking inside of me, picturing a baby with Down Syndrome. 

Now, that's gone.  I feel like there is this new or different baby inside of me now.  I don't know what it looks like.  I don't know if it's a boy or girl (I was so tempted to ask, because they know from the blood results, but we're keeping this a surprise to the end).  I know it does not (likely) have Down Syndrome, but I don't know anything else.

I want to cry.  And I'm not sure why.

I won the Lottery!

Ok, so not that lottery.  But I won the kindergarten lottery!  Simply, this means that Brae got his first-choice for kindergarten next year.  He will be able to continue his Spanish immersion education (that he's been in since he was 3 months old) by enrolling into our elementary school's Spanish immersion program.  The kids stay together from K-5.  Instruction is 50% Spanish and 50% English.

We are thrilled. This also means that Sienna has priority when she's ready for kindergarten.

As you probably know, Spanish is the second most used language in the United States.  There are more Spanish speakers in the US than of Chinese, French, German, Italian, Hawaiian, and all the Native American languages, combined.   According to the 2012 US Census, Spanish is the primary language spoken at home by nearly 40 million people.  That is double what it was in 1990.

Spanish speakers are the fastest growing linguistic group in the US.  By 2050 (Brae will be 41; Sienna will be 38; baby in the oven will be 36), the US will become the largest Spanish-speaking country in the world, and Spanish will be the second-most-spoken language in the world, surpassed only by Chinese.  That means that English will be spoken less than Spanish. 

More and more businesses are requiring bilingual employees.  Bilingual employees can earn $20,000 more per year simply by being bilingual. 

With all this data (and believe me, there's more), you may see why it is so important for us that our children speak another language, particularly Spanish.  But, it's more than just all these figures.  I began learning Spanish when I was in 7th grade, and continued formal education of the language through college.  It has helped me immensely in my personal and professional life.  My sister is a Spanish high school teacher.  My mom speaks Spanish and is able to use her medical degree to travel the world with "Doctors without Borders." 

Tygh, well, el no habla espanol.  Que lamenta.

There's also another reason why it was so important for our kids to get a Spanish education early, particularly for Brae.  Brae is a quarter Peruvian.  We wanted him to be able to connect to his Latin roots and have the opportunity, if he wanted, to travel the world with the ability to converse easily with native speakers. 

Even today, when Brae speaks Spanish with native speakers, the native speakers (and others watching) are absolutely dumbfounded.  This 5-year-old, pale-skinned, skinny "white" boy is talking fluently in Spanish with them.  They get a tickle out of it. 

And I just have to smile at this gift he's been given.

Posts.

When I was pregnant with Sienna, I never posted anything about it on any social media site.  In fact, after she was born, and I did post pictures of her, many acquaintances sent me messages, marveling about how they didn't even know I was pregnant.

With this pregnancy, I've pretty much done the same thing.  I have never posted anything about being pregnant, and don't plan to.

This is deliberate.  For me, I remember the pain each time someone I knew posted about being pregnant, and showed off their growing belly.  It killed me inside. 

Perhaps I'm more sensitive than most, but when I see posts about someone announcing their engagement, I immediately think of all the girls crying because they just broke up with their boyfriend.  When I see posts about someone announcing their cool new job, I think of all the people who have just lost theirs.  When I see posts about someone's awesome vacation, I think of all the people who can't afford to take one. 

Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy seeing all these happy posts, and like to celebrate with others in their joy.  There is nothing malicious in posting stuff like this.  But my heart goes out to all of those who have been marginalized by this same celebration and joy. 

With everything we've been through, I just cannot bring myself to announce this pregnancy or post belly pics on social media.  Instead of basking in all of the uplifting messages I'm sure we'd get, I will be obsessed with the one girl whose day got a little darker because of that news. 

Because I had many of those dark days, too. 

Sibling Love... is driving me Crazy

Brae and Sienna love each other.  A lot.  And trust me, this warms a mother's heart.  I remain in awe about their close bond, despite not sharing a gene between them.  Again, love makes a family, not genetics.

But... sometimes, their bond drives me up the wall.  A few cases in point:

1) One minute, they are on the floor tickling one another, laughing hysterically.  The next, Sienna is running to me, bawling, and she has a scratch on her cheek.  Brae isn't far behind, screaming, with bite marks on his shoulder.

2) Brae brushes her hair in the morning, putting barrettes in her hair.  When I come in, she has blue, sticky hair.  Toothpaste.

3) When Sienna runs out of underwear, Brae gives her his.

4) Brae has no problem giving Sienna some "tough physical love."  But he will not stand for anyone else treating her that way.  I've had to explain to more than one mother that when Brae screamed, red-faced at her child for even touching Sienna, Brae was really just defending her honor. 

... And this one really sticks in my craw....

5) I put the kids to bed, in their separate rooms, around 8 p.m.  And sometimes, in the middle of the night (e.g., 1 a.m.), I hear noises upstairs.  Brae has sneaked into Sienna's room, pulled her out of bed, and they've tiptoed into his room, where he reads to her.  Sienna now has a bell on her door. 

Being a Minority

 A friend of mine recently posted a very insightful blog on her site, and with her permission, I'm duplicating some of it here....

 

The US Bureau of Labor Statistics reported that that in 2012 there were 9,134,000 women with children under the age of three.  6,334,000 of those women work and 2,595,000 of those women work 35 or more hours a week.  These are my peeps, other full time working moms.  What do these numbers tell me?  They tell me that only 1/3 women with itty bitty kiddos work and that only 2/5 women with itty bitty kiddos who do work, work full time.  What this also means is that I am squarely a minority.  Being a minority doesn’t bother me per se and it  isn’t necessarily a negative, but what it does mean is that social policy and culture in the US often does not cater to my needs (or desires, dreams or hopes for that matter).

Being a minority in this context feels lonely sometimes.  Trying to navigate a world that feels like it is designed for non-working moms (people really) is frustrating.  Juggling full time work with itty bitty people is HARD, and unless you do it yourself, you have NO CLUE just how HARD.  2/3 of moms get the luxury of more time with their babies that I do.  2/3 of moms don’t have to squish their life into a box built for non-working moms.  I am reminded of this reality every time I try to sign [Brae/Sienna] up for preschool, music, swimming, visit a museum, go to the library, etc.  Most preschools are designed around a 9-11:30 timeframe, swim class is offered at 10am on Tuesday, music is offered at 1:15 on Wednesdays, mommy matinees are offered during the classic work day, story times at the library are the during the traditional work day, DMV, DEQ and SSA close at 5, doctor and dentist offices operate M-F, banks are only open 9-5 etc.  Sure, there are a few evening and weekend options, which I try (and must for lack of other options) to take advantage of, and there are few preschools that have caught onto the fact some moms have to work BEFORE 9am, but the slots are limited, the facilities are limited, the opportunities are limited.  I have to get in line with the other 2,595,000 full time working moms struggling with the same limitations.  It is frustrating to always be subjected to waitlists, long lines, early enrollment deadlines, asking for favors, all because I work full time.  No one really talks about these challenges when you are in graduate school, embarking on a profession.  No one prepares women for the sacrifices they will have to make if they choose the daunting task of being a mom and a full time professional.  I desperately hope that by the time my children begin to start and grow their families that our country will embrace social policy and cultural change in a family-centric direction.  Countries, such as Sweden, that have gone through what I will call “mini revolutions” in this respect find people are happier, production increases, and divorce rates decrease.  These seem like things ALL people can support (regardless of marital or child status), not just working moms.