A Rant About Gender and Pregnancy

First, some (much abbreviated) background, my apologies to those for whom this is a repeat.

I got married at 30. We started trying to have kids at 34, by 35 we were full into the ART (assisted reproductive therapy) swing. At 37, tired of all the hormones, tests, and procedures, we called it a day. At 38, we unexpectedly (very unexpectedly) had a baby girl. At 39, we lost a baby. At 40, we plunged back into the Clomid full force and, at 41, had another baby girl. Afterward, we decided that to just let fate do its thing. I wasn’t going back to hormones (either assistive or preventative), I wasn’t going to monitor for ovulation. After all, fertility has always been an issue for us and, of course, it declines as one gets older. Not to mention, with two kids under 3 and me working nights, how much, er, personal time do we get? As we now know, the Great Good Thing had different plans for us, of course.

Ok, on to today’s rant...

So, my boss calls this morning with some action items (I hate that term) from yesterday’s ExCom (I hate that term too - we’re not the military, for Pete’s sake) meeting. She wants me to make another presentation on why contracts and, more specifically, the language in our contracts is important and to go through our contract procedures with our PMs (project managers, not prime ministers though, of course, some of them think of themselves as the latter). They want me to make this presentation at one of the monthly staff meetings. Now, there’s really only one date that will work as July’s meeting is coming too quickly to put a presentation together on our currently shortened hours and still get the other work done and September is, well, occupied. So, August it is.

In the course of this discussion, she reveals that she’s told ExCom that we’re expecting. I have to say I’m a bit surprised. She was the one that wanted me to keep this quiet (because our COO was p-i-s-s-e-d that I got pregnant last time - that much was made very clear to me at the time: heaven forfend, I should put my personal life above the company) and, given that I work from home, it’s possible I might have kept it secret until well after the fact. (We don’t have maternity leave, per se, and, last time, I was working 10 hours a week within a week of getting home from the hospital.) But, ok, they know. And, she adds, “they’re all happy you’re expecting a boy.”

Ok, this I have a problem with. Like they wouldn’t be happy if it was a girl? Still, I’d think it was just a wording thing except that I’ve talked to several people for whom the only saving grace of this pregnancy is that the baby appears to be a boy.

The pregnancy was received poorly by many people until we/they found out the baby is a boy. From my parents to random acquaintances, people seem to think that we’re crazy/disobedient/inappropriately fecund to have a third but, oh, it’s ok because “John’s getting his boy”. So, WTF? How could our pregnancy possibly affect you? It’s not like my parents babysit or really have much to do with our children at all. It’s not like we’re imposing on friends to watch our kids or run errands, etc. We’re not on public support; we pay our taxes, Katie’s preschool tuition, and our bills. It’s not like I work fewer hours or ask for weird accommodations due to pregnancy... as I mentioned earlier, I was back in the saddle within a week, answering emails, and back at 10 hours a week the following week and back to my full 20 hours a week within 6 weeks. I took no unpaid time off. I took no paid time other than my normal sick leave and normal vacation time: time to which I would have been entitled whether or not I had a baby. So how could our pregnancy, the number of children we choose to have, possibly be any business of yours to judge?

Let me just say this publicly: we were thrilled about this pregnancy from the day we discovered it. We are happy it’s a boy; we would have been happy if it had been a girl - we just care that it’s healthy (which, thank God, he appears to be). Every child is a miracle, particularly when one has had such trouble conceiving... every child.

I guess I am grateful they don’t have to have the experience which leads them to understand how precious each chance to be a parent is. Fertility crap sucks - there’s only about 1 or 2 people in this world that I’d be tempted to wish that misery upon (and those people I wouldn’t want reproducing anyway so I suppose in the end I wouldn’t wish it upon them either).

But, I say again, WTF?!

Today

All went well, thank goodness, though I suspect Evie's enmity toward Dr. Valdez may be of the enduring variety. The nurse told me they do 50 ear tube surgeries a week - a week!! It was quick and the hardest part (for me) was restraining her little hands as she tried to pull the anesthesia mask off. But then she went to sleep and I trotted my tearful person out to the bathroom and it was over almost before I got back.

I really don't know how parents whose children have to have "real" surgery take it. LJ, my hat's off to you!!

So, there's a family waiting room where you're supposed to wait. And the waiting room has a monitor who checks you in. And the monitor has all the warm fuzzy demeanor of a middle school gym teacher. I swear, it felt more like detention than a place for anxious parents! (Though I don't suppose detention offers coffee and tea...) It just struck me kind of funny. Everyone else was so nice and friendly, including the nurses in recovery who have to listen to wailing children all day, and the waiting room monitor was as dour as a Scotsman who's had his golf clubs and whiskey taken away!

In other news... the concert tonight went well and I didn't make a fool of myself either in my aria or in the choral bits, fortunately. Always a good thing.

And for those who are curious, the new baby is a boy!

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, tomorrow, we'll start the day tomorrow
with a wail or two...

Well, it's scheduled. Little Miss Evie is having tubes put in her ears tomorrow morning. Now, as surgeries go, this is incredibly minor - the surgery itself takes only 10 minutes though she does get put out for it. BUT I have to take a year old baby to the hospital by myself, a baby that hasn't eaten or drunk in more than 12 hours, and that, I expect, will be the hard (and loud) part.

That and watching my baby get put under...

Still, hopefully this will resolve her hearing loss. We'll be seeing the audiologist again in a month to check back on that.

In other news, the *new* baby appears to be baking away quite nicely, my BP is remaining stable, and I'm not loading on the weight. Joined a gym and have made it a goal to swim twice a week for 1/2 hour. I know it's not all that much but it's what I can manage so I just try to keep my heartrate up for the whole time and enjoy the heck out of having a shower all by myself at the end.

Tomorrow's a busy day in a lot of ways. Anyone in Central CT is cordially invited to join us tomorrow evening for a concert of Mendelssohn works at Center Church at 7:30 p.m. I'll be doing "O Rest in the Lord"; it's low for me but the space isn't cavernous and the accompaniment is piano so hopefully it will go well.

Honestly though, I can't think that far ahead. Right now, I'm just focused on getting Katie to the sitter tomorrow before 9 so Evie and I can be to the hospital at 9:30. If you hear persistent wailing about that time, you'll know from whence it cometh.