Baby crazy

Apparently this baby obsession is contagious, as everyone in the Nest household has been affected with it to some extent.

I am very aware of the fact that had I conceived when I started trying last fall, I might already have a newborn at home. Even figuring from January, when I did get pregnant, I would be 5 1/2 months along if it had stuck.

The idea of a second baby is currently eating up a lot of my brain power. I have innumerable charts and calendars--What if my cycle is 26 days? 27 or 28? When might I ovulate? Under which conditions would that coincide with a day when I could actually get to Buffalo? If I did conceive on a particular date, when would I finish the first trimester? When would I deliver? I'm recording the most obsessive of my thoughts (because, seriously, it gets so much worse than this) in my journal... when I'm not drawing Trillian into the discussion.

Trillian is quieter in her thoughts on baby #2. But I know that the miscarriage was very hard on her too. She tends to tell me, when I debate about the timing of everything, that I need to do whatever will be best for me and she will support my decision. I called her out on this many months ago, asked if she was non-committal because she didn't really want to have another one. But she assured me that wasn't the case. In fact, her position is basically the sooner the better, but she doesn't want to push that to my detriment. And so I know that she is quietly rooting for the dates to fall just right and our timing to again be perfect.

Now we have been careful not to have these conversations in Scooter's hearing. He only recently stopped saying that I have a baby in my tummy (or telling his friends that--I won't soon forget the day one of the other kids at daycare came up to me and asked that!). We've decided not to start talking about it again until I get further along into the next pregnancy. But his doll, one that started life as a potty training aid since it can drink a bottle and pee, has now become his "little brother." It has slept with him and occasionally plays with him. On the way to school one morning, he started talking about how he has a little brother, though he eventually changed that to cousin (and got really mad at me when I tried to tell him his cousin is a girl--"No! He's a baby!" and, therefore, apparently genderless, "he" being Scooter's default pronoun.). While we're encouraging his play as big brother, we're also trying to avoid references to the eventual appearance of a real new baby.

So in the meantime, the adults will have their fingers figuratively crossed and Scooter will be carrying around his "little brother" (albeit by the legs). I will probably spare you the worst of the obsessions, but imagine it will occasionally leak over into this sphere.

Global Warming... Thursday

I started writing this as a response to comments on yesterday's post, but when I found myself flipping the page (I was proctoring an exam at the time, so it started just below my to-do list), I decided that maybe I should just turn it into a post.

Queen B picked up on the following line from my original post: "And I remain pretty convinced that my children will do more good than harm." I will concede her point that it's pretty much impossible for a human being to have no impact on the environment, but I think I meant this in less than absolute terms. In the grand scheme, I think that my children will be raised with a deep and abiding respect for nature and hope that they will inspire the same in others. I think that they will be raised in a household that makes many attempts beyond the average US household to conserve and pay attention to impact. I also consider "more good than harm" to include more than just a mathematical assessment of environmental impact.

I also think B&P is getting at one of my core assumptions: human existence will (and, to a large extent, should) continue. If I didn't believe that--in a very emotional way, I admit it--I certainly wouldn't have any children and would even question my own reasons for being here.

I also recognize the disparity of individual environmental footprints when comparing different parts of the world. But I stand by the bulk of what I said before, particularly when looking at trends:

• Western/developed nations are generally in a position to reduce their carbon output. Whether initially a result of government or citizen action, the two often end up building on each other.
• These nations also are the most likely to discover and develop technologies that will further alleviate humanity's burden on the planet.
• If we can adjust current market economies along the sort of model suggested by No Impact Man (in the post I linked to yesterday), it may be possible to get such technologies established in developing nations before they succumb or move more fully to the usual environmental destruction that accompanies industrialization in the current model. Want an example? Run a search on the increase in pollution in China.
• From an economic and political model, most developed nations cannot afford a significantly greater decrease in population than they are already projected to have (based on fertility rates) without some sort of collapse--and I have to think that a country in such trouble would probably be much harder on the environment.
• My desire to see smart development brought to developing nations also goes beyond purely environmental concerns. I would like to see environmentally sensitive development that allows such areas to improve inhabitants' lives in all respects. Smart development like this would help avoid increased pollution while improving health. And, generally speaking, women in such situations have more control over their fertility.
• I do recognize that the problem of an aging population outnumbering the young remains. It will end up being an issue at some point, and I don't entirely know how we will get over that. (Which makes me want to refer back to HBM's original proposal--in a totally tongue-in-cheek manner. But still...)

Even in writing the above, I recognize just how optimistic it sounds. And then I wonder what exactly is going on in my brain, because that's just not like me. I mean, let's face it, governments and most individuals aren't generally known for making the changes and sacrifices the world needs.

And yet...

I think that I need to believe the change can happen. Because otherwise I might as well give up.

I know that I believe that little changes made by a multitude can add up.

I have accepted that a certain amount of climate change is now inevitable. In my generation and my children's, probably my grandchildren's, we will experience profound changes. The causes of this have already been put into motion. It will get worse before it gets better.

But if we make changes now, if we can get things headed in the right direction, it will get better. And maybe then humans will better understand the concept of finding harmony with the world around them.

I know it's a pipe dream and that, even if the right changes occur, they will be slower and smaller than needed to turn things around in just a few generations. But I do believe it's possible.

Global Warming Wednesday: Are the children our future or will they destroy it?

In the mood for some satire? Go read Her Bad Mother's take on how we should deal with overpopulation and its strain on the environment. She links to a Globe and Mail article that profiles a number of people who have decided not to have children to lessen their environmental footprint. There's also a link to a blog entry that discusses the article--agreeing with it, as one might expect from "Childfree News."

Now this is an interesting and timely topic for me, seeing how I've been trying to return to my environmental roots but am also in the midst of trying for baby #2. And while I am aware that each human born will have an environmental impact on the world, I won't be stopping my efforts.

I have to admit that I do not, at this very moment, have a lot of research to cite here, and that this is an emotional enough issue for me that I'm pretty much going to lay my thoughts out here without too much shaping.

Reasons the article and post rub me the wrong way:

• The arrogant tone of those who have chosen not to have children. They are convinced that they are better than people with children and are incredibly condescending.
• The suggestion that my children are as likely to grow up to be "Hummer-driving jackasses" as not. While I can't rule that out completely, I think the better money's on them being environmentally concerned, possibly doing even better than I on reducing their footprints.
• If we pull back and consider other factors, there is a need to approximately replace the population. In many developed nations (gross generalization alert), the fertility rate is below the level needed to keep the population steady, which is going to mess with their economies as the burden of supporting an aging population falls on a smaller number of young workers. (A problem HBM's proposal would fix. But seriously, satire!)
• We need to be looking at the fertility rate on a global level. I don't think it's a bad idea if populations in the developed nations decrease a little, but even a large decrease in those areas wouldn't address the increases elsewhere. So maybe instead of casting insults at the neighbors' rug-rats, that energy would be better put towards improving international standards of living and improving access to birth control and the like.* For an interesting look at how capitalism might evolve into something more environmentally sustainable, have a look at this post from No Impact Man.

But here's the best way I have of explaining my annoyance with these articles. Trillian and I have been friends with a married couple for a very long time. They are childless and had made this decision even before they were married (a few months after Trillian and I got together). A big part of their reasoning was the issue of overpopulation and environmental impact. If one were to ask them about it, they would give an impassioned and convincing explanation of their decision--but they would never suggest that their decision is one that is necessarily right for others or better. The wife's sister has had three children, and our friend loves all of them and will even joke that her sister took care of her replacement. Because our friends do not have the expense of children, they have put aside savings to help pay for their nieces' and nephews' education.

As far as I can tell, more people are likely to be inspired to action by our friends' attitude than the people quoted in the article and post. They're not preachy, their arguments are more logical than emotional, and they recognize that there are as many answers as there are people.

Trillian and I decided a long time ago that 2 is our magic number, years before we took any action towards making children a reality for our family. Our concerns about overpopulation played a prominent role in the equation. Now that I know my youngest sister has absolutely no desire for children and that Trillian's brother is not enthusiastic about the proposition, I know that our extended family's net impact will be below the level of replacement (always a chance my other sister will have more than 2, but I definitely don't see her with 6, probably not more than 3!). And I remain pretty convinced that my children will do more good than harm. No I don't think they'll be discovering the cure for cancer or the renewable energy that will revolutionize life as we know it. But I do think that they will recycle, eat local and organic foods, maybe grow their own, and pay attention to the environmental impact of their lifestyles.

Can I guarantee that? No, but there's enough optimist in me to think it's worth a try.

*And no, this is not me supporting eugenics. I am not saying we sterilize all the adults in the third-world. I am saying that if better living conditions were the norm, if health care were available to all, if women had the opportunity to regulate their fertility, if women held a position beyond producers of heirs and cheap labor, I think that you'd see fertility rates drop and more children would be wanted children.

My piece of the pie

Knocked Up has now grossed more than $100 million. Given that it cost about $35 million to make and market, that's an impressive performance to date. So I've decided that maybe Eckler has a good idea, and I should find a way to cash in.

Now obviously this won't work with Knocked Up. No matter how I try to spin it, I just can't make "committed lesbian couple carefully plan for a child after almost a decade together" fit "stoner accidentally gets entertainment reporter pregnant and they stumble into making a go of it."

No worries, though, I'll just mine Judd Apatow's earlier work. And so I submit to you that Apatow blatantly plagiarized my high school experience in creating the character of Lindsay Weir for "Freaks and Geeks," specifically my time in Grades 10 and 11.

Here's the core of my case:

• Lindsay is a good-girl brainiac who attends high school in the 80s. I also was in high school in the 80s, at the top of my class, and considered a straight arrow.
  
• Then Lindsay gets tired of that identity and begins to hang out with the "freaks," or the burnout druggies, eventually dating one of them. My first "steady" boyfriend was one of the burnouts, and I definitely felt rebellious hanging out with him and his friends.

The minutiae:

• Lindsay's army surplus jacket. I wore one too, starting in about 8th grade.
• Long, wavy brown hair? Check--exact same style.
• Parents with no real clue. Mine either never suspected or purposely ignored their suspicions.

It's an airtight case!

If we gloss over just how Apatow got this intelligence on me. And that the show is set earlier in the 80s. And that my first boyfriend was more of a drunken burnout than a druggie burnout--though several of his friends match the latter description. And I never lied to my parents about going to math camp, but instead decided to follow the Grateful Dead. And that smart girls frequently get tired of the label and seek to shake things up. But those are immaterial points.

We'll just keep that information quiet, won't we? Play nice and I'll cut you in.

A mother of a phone call

My mother called this evening, which was quite the shock. I believe that our last phone call was when I called her in February to tell her I was pregnant. In March, I sent an email to let her and my sisters know about the miscarriage, and that was how we left things.

Trillian and I keep a family blog where we can post updates and pictures. Just about two weeks ago, Trillian wrote about the autism checklist and where things stood for Scooter. I was pretty sure that she had read the entry, but was actually relieved that I hadn't heard from her directly.

The conversation began with a discussion of the family reunion we're going to in August. She and at least one of my sisters will be heading down to see some family on the other side after the main event and wanted to see if I would want to join them. I'll still be teaching then, so I won't be able to extend the trip--something I actually regret since my favorite aunt is one of the people we'd be seeing.

Then she turned to the matter I would have expected to lead off. So we talked some about where we are in the process of getting Scooter evaluated. The role of genetics came up--when she mentioned that there are certain characteristics that run in our family. I agreed and mentioned that I'm pretty sure that, had the idea of high-functioning autism been the sort of thing tested for when I was a child, I probably would have fallen in the nebulous borders of such a diagnosis (more on that later). I decided not to point out that I'm pretty sure she would too, though I did mention that it tends to show up in children of engineers, computer experts, mathematicians, and the like. No need to remind her that her family is full of mathematicians, herself included.

And then I decided to slip in a subject I have avoided bringing up with her, our plans of moving closer to Trillian's parents. I started with the small town we're looking at, the high incidence of autism there, their public schools and incredibly well developed autism-support program, the public preschool for developmentally delayed children. And then I moved on to the possible job in the city where my in-laws live, but omitting all mention of said in-laws. No discernible reaction, something she'll probably meditate on for a while.

To my mother's credit, she was bearable, almost pleasant, nothing particular that rubbed me the wrong way. But I still wish it were more than that--more natural, less obligatory, a time when I didn't feel I need to guard my words. Luckily I have my aunt and mother-in-law, both of whom tend to say just the right thing or at least know when to just listen.

Girls' night out

What can you say about a night which included conversation that ranged from Hitchens, Machiavelli and religion (one conversation) to toddlers who won't sleep to the commodification of motherhood in academia to reality television? Must be a gathering of mommy bloggers!

Trillian came with me--she'd met HBM, Metro Mama, and Something Blue before, but this was her first chance to chat with MotherBumper and Kittenpie. McHotty, MM's husband, served as the bartender for the first couple of hours and held up very well in the midst of all that estrogen, even during all of the breastfeeding talk.

We left around midnight, reluctantly, but knew we needed to get some sleep before waking up early for Scooter's gymnastics class. Trillian said to me as we left, "I could easily have stayed a couple more hours." Which is really something for us old ladies--midnight's already incredibly late for us. I had stuck to lemonade, so only had sleepiness to contend with. Trillian lost count of just how many glasses of red wine she'd had--her glass was never allowed to go empty.

The day after... Well, let's just remark that I took Scooter to gymnastics on my own this morning. And we all napped for almost 3 hours this afternoon (working on my overall sleep deficit). But it was definitely worth it.

Getting back on the horse

As we drove home a couple weeks ago, trying to make individual sense of the sudden confirmation of what we had talked ourselves out of some time ago--that Scooter may be autistic--it became clear that Trillian and I were at the same stage in our thinking.

Scooter was asleep in the back seat, having missed his nap at school and worn out by the evaluation session. Trillian brought up the donor and the possibility of researching if any other offspring have problems. And while there are ways to do this and we probably will, I turned to her and said something along the lines of, "Seriously? It's my genetics. How can it not be?"

Now both of us have done the reading and know that there is a genetic component, but that there is no single gene that is responsible for autism. And even beyond genetics, there may be some environmental factors. And so I understand, intellectually, that this is not something where we can lay blame, that there are so many factors involved and, even though my genetics are most likely implicated, that I cannot be the sole source.

Another issue that came up around this time was how this might affect our attempts for baby #2. There was a part of me that wished I'd already had another kid or not had the miscarriage, just so I wouldn't have to question the wisdom of having another child. While the general incidence of autism is often put at around 1 in 150, the chances of having a second child with autism is estimated at 1 in 20. But interestingly, this has turned out to be a non-issue. I think that both Trillian and I were concerned that the other would want to back off, but a couple of conversations have proven the opposite.

As I said to Trillian during one of our discussions, I'd already thought about some of this, since it's not like I hadn't noticed that Scooter was not exactly like other kids. And I reasoned to myself that baby #2 would most likely be "normal," but even if baby #2 were a lot like Scooter, I could handle that. And if baby #2 has more severe problems? Well, I would let that play out as it might. Trillian and I formed a philosophy on this when I was pregnant with Scooter; by the time we were able to get blood work and ultrasounds that might indicate a problem, we knew that we were too attached to consider termination. And neither of us sees a reason to change our approach now.

My comfort with this decision grows as time passes and I get closer to returning to the craziness that is trying to get pregnant for me. Similarly, I find myself getting comfortable with the word "autism" and fitting it into my concept of my family. Hopefully things can continue in this vein.