Discussing Abortion

I read an article today about a woman's experience of getting pregnant unexpectedly (while using an IUD), and her decision to have an abortion to terminate her pregnancy.

Abortion is typically talked about in the terms 'pro-life' or 'pro-choice,' and we forget about the stories of women, those who decide to go through with the pregnancy, and those that don't. I've never personally heard anyone talk about an abortion that they, or even a friend, went through, and I appreciated this personal account.

Like many women, I'm pro-choice (and support Planned Parenthood), but I would have a difficult time going through with an abortion myself. At this point that's probably because I'm pretty okay with having another baby (though don't want one right now), and know that I would get a tubal immediately after the birth.

But there was a time, when I was pregnant with Felicity and was suffering from PUPPPs (pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy, fun name, right?), that Ian and I talked about it. I'm not sure if I wrote much about this experience, so I'll do it now:

When I was three months pregnant, my body broke out in an unbelievably itchy, awful rash, that supposedly occurs in about about 0.05% of pregnancies (1 in 200). It's also supposed to only be bad for about a week (not true), occur in the last few weeks of pregnancy (SO NOT TRUE), and will persist until after the birth of your child (this is true).

The itching is akin to nothing I've ever experienced before, and I'm a Minnesota girl that has had her fair share of misquito bites and was susceptible to impetigo as child. The itching of PUPPPs drives you insane. You can't do anything - you can't concentrate, can't complete your sentences, and can't sleep. I went the emergency room at one point because the itching was so awful, we didn't know what else to do. I was put on oral steroids, a dermatology student with poor stitching skills gave me a skin biopsy in my hip, which will forever have a crazy scar, and then I was put on topical steroids. I had to take benedryl to try to sleep at all. When I was able to sleep, I'd wake up repeatedly in the night, having scratched myself to bleeding on my arms, legs, belly, and hips.

We tried all sorts of things. We heard that something called Grandpa's Pine Tar Soap helped, so I started using that (it smells like a wood fire with a hint of... tar). I was taking cool oatmeal baths several times a day, taking cold showers several times in the night when the itching got bad, slathering on pure aloe vera (which smells exactly like a hardware store), and doing a lot of crying.

So we talked about terminating, because both Ian and I felt that I would not physically be able to handle the insane itching for six months (or more, if it continued into nursing, as it does in rare cases). At this point, both Ian and I were barely sleeping, and I had to basically be drugged every night (it got much worse at night), and he would have to hold me, spooning me tightly, while watching the trashiest TV possible we could find online.

Then I found something online called nettle leaf tea, something pregnant women have been drinking for centuries to help with allergies and itching during pregnancy. I was strongly urged by the University of Michigan medical staff not to drink it (not tested by the FDA, anything could happen, they apparently would prefer it if I was taking category-C drugs instead during two-thirds of the pregnancy). I didn't listen. And I'm glad.

I started drinking this grassy-tasting tea 3+ times a day. Within several days the itching had improved, and within a week that actual rash itself was almost gone. I still had flare ups when the weather was hot and humid, and admittedly spent many nights in the sixth and seventh months of pregnancy splayed naked on my bed with a giant fan blowing cold air on my giant belly, slathered in cooling aloe vera, but this amazing tea eliminated about 95% of my symptoms and made pregnancy doable for me.

I'm glad that we didn't have to talk very long about whether or not to keep our baby - she was wanted, and now that we have her, we're so glad we do. But I also don't know if I could have possibly gone through an entire 6+ months of that insane, awful itching - a couple of weeks of it felt suffocating and infuriating, unbearable. I would not have been able to do my graduate work, excel at my job (earn money), interact with Ian in a loving manner, and focus on doing what I needed to do to grow a healthy baby.

Review: Life's Work: Confessions of an Unbalanced Mom

Life's Work: Confessions of an Unbalanced Mom by Lisa Belkin

My rating: 2 of 5 stars



I picked this up in the feminist-mothering section of the library at Columbia. I gave it a good shot of about fifty pages, but there just isn't anything great here. I feel like maybe I should read more, but I'm bored and I don't feel like I'm going to read anything that will speak to me or enhance my understanding of the challenges and moments of grace in mothering.

I'm annoyed that there doesn't seem to be any depth here. It's like I'm reading small blog posts, and the themes are loose at best. Yes, the writing is clear, but it just isn't interesting. I probably would keep reading if I didn't have all of these other amazing books on mothering at home right now (go thesis project!).



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The Baby is One

Two days ago, Felicity turned one. I loved it, I hated it.

I adore birthdays. I will even try to celebrate your half-birthday, if you let me (with a half of a cake, naturally!). I want Flick's birthdays to be special, full of tradition, and memorable, even if she isn't the one keeping the memories at first.

I made lots of trial cupcakes, and settled on two recipes for her party. I took time thoughtfully selecting gifts that her little baby self would love, bought a bouquet of flowers for her (mixed in variety and color, because I don't know her favorite flower or color(s) yet), and found a very sweet card for her. She even got a balloon, though she's not really into balloons yet, we found out. My mom and I made a birthday banner for her during Hurricane Sandy, which Ian and I hung with great care, using a ruler and everything.

We went out for breakfast on her birthday. I took a picture and avoided crying. Then Ian left for an all-day conference an hour and half out of the city, and Felicity's babysitter came and took her for five hours so I could clean the house for her party the next day.

I tried really hard not to feel guilty about this (like I try really hard not to feel guilty about so many things): Ian had had a crazy week at work and did not have time to contribute to the housework during that week, I have been prioritizing my own research and writing (yay), and the party was scheduled for the next day, and the apartment needed a little TLC. Plus I had to buy groceries and start cooking. Also, Felicity is too young to understand the concept of a birthday, and what the day is.

I was able to accomplish an amazing lot in the five hours, and Felicity loves E., her sitter. Afterwards, I took her on a long walk, and ate bits of dried fruit and animal crackers with her at the cafe in Whole Foods. She napped in her stroller, and we did an extra-long story time before bed, with lots of cuddles and kisses. She fell into a really good, deep sleep. The sleep of a baby that has been active, laughing, reading, and interacting with someone else almost the whole day, the restful sleep of a baby that has a relaxed mother, a happy mother.

I am increasingly aware of my need to be accepted and to live up to the expectations I perceive others have for me. This whole birthday experience further highlighted this. Maybe it's because birthdays were treated a certain way in our household, with a certain sort of reverence and tradition, and that is what I want to pass on. Maybe it is because I feel the "perfect mother" would have had the house clean in the first place and would be able to handle getting ready for a party while taking care of and pleasing a baby, and that this wouldn't upset her child and exhaust her beyond her limits. I'm not sure who this perfect mother is, but she sure isn't me.

So I didn't let myself feel guilty. At the end of the day, the baby was happy, and I was happy, and she had a really lovely party yesterday afternoon.

I do believe I achieved some sort of balance. A feat, ladies and gentlemen, a feat!

Now I just have to come to grips with my baby not really being a baby anymore. 

Review: Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World: 75 Dairy-Free Recipes for Cupcakes that Rule

Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World: 75 Dairy-Free Recipes for Cupcakes that Rule by Isa Chandra Moskowitz

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



Let me first admit that I have held on to my library copy of VCTOTW for far too long. In fact, the library doesn't even seem to think that I have it, despite not accruing any fines. I feel equal amounts of shame and glee, and do plan on returning it. Soon, I swear. As soon as I try every single recipe... (of my husband buys this for me for Christmas because he is ashamed of my dishonest ways, and wants the cupcakes to keep coming).

This is a goldmine for the vegan that bakes, even if that vegan has never baked before. The ingredients aren't strange and use things out of your vegan pantry (I spent $75 purchasing crazy ingredients at Whole Foods for one recipe in Babycakes that was mediocre at best), the instructions are easy to follow, and, best of all, these cook up into amazing cupcakes - and I am freaking FUSSY about my cupcakes (and other baked goods).

My two favorite recipes are for the chocolate cupcakes (Your Basic Chocolate Cupcake), with a little extra vanilla extract, and some coconut extract for good measure, with the Chocolate Buttercream Frosting (ditto with the vanilla and coconut here too), and the Carrot Cake Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting. So. Amazing.

I made both of these recipes in mini form for my daughter's first birthday party, and they were a hit with all of my non-vegan friends (I kept hearing, "And can you believe they're vegan?!" around the room).

The only thing I've made so far that I haven't cared for was the batch of Thick Chocolate Fudgey Frostin'. I suspect this has more to do with my lack of good-quality soy milk powder that the actual recipe.



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Is PMS a Hoax?

Ever follow a link of a link of a link in an interesting story? I did today. I started at Nursing Clio and ended up at an article that cites a recent study by the University of Toronto that found PMS may not be related to any lady mood swings.

As a teenager, I was convinced that I became actually depressed a week or two before my period, a condition called PMDD. Looking back, I think maybe I was just in a mild depression during my teens and into my last year of college, and I think the science is a bit shaky on PMDD being an actual thing or not.

I am in the camp that believes that there is a whole lot more attributed to PMS than there should be. I think that some women use it as an excuse for bad behavior, and men often use it to write off women's valid concerns/feelings as crazy and illogical.

Food for thought on a Sunday. What do you think? 

Review: Bender: New and Selected Poems

Bender: New and Selected Poems by Dean Young

My rating: 1 of 5 stars



I rarely give one stars, and maybe I should've given these poems more of a chance, but ugh.

Let me explain: I like to read my baby poetry while I nurse her; relaxing to her, relaxing to me. I saw this book in my local library's featured new books and picked it up, seemed promising. I read five or six of the gazillion poems. Thinking maybe things got better towards the middle, I randomly flipped to a page and started reading. My husband walked in and literally though I was stringing random words together. He flipped to another page, had me read that, and by the end we were in hysterics, it was so bad.

Maybe this guy is genius and it's just not my kind of poetry, and maybe it's meant to be digested slowly. In any case, I'd much rather read Anne Carson any day.



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On a Thursday Night

I can't believe it's been over a month since I've written, especially when I used to make a point of posting daily. But you don't really want to hear about that, and I really don't want to write about it.

Today Ian and I hired someone to watch Felicity for 10+ hours a week, at least until the end of the semester. My work has been spotty at best (seems to be a theme), but I'm happy to report I've actually started writing (yay!). It's been a long time of trudging through books and taking a ridiculous amount of notes. Ian, in his wisdom, sat me down a couple of weeks ago and told me that I'm taking too many notes and spending way too much time in the research phase, not enough time writing. He was right, of course.

During Hurricane Sandy

So there's that. I'm excited to be making forward progress.

Other than the thesis/research, we've had a couple of things happen. Of course, Hurricane Sandy happened. It didn't seem like much as the storm was actually taking place, and we were all bundled in the apartment, safe and warm. We even went and took a picture outside, and this was during the worst storm surge.  It was only until we started looking online the next day, watching news reports and seeing pictures, that we really understood the horrific nature of the storm.

We were impacted in three ways from the storm.

First, my mom, who was supposed to be visiting for four days, had an extended visit of ten days. Thankfully we all have a wonderful relationship. Ian and I have offered to let her move in with us multiple times(she can sleep on the pull-out couch in the living room!), but she never takes us up on the offer...

Second, there was some local damage in Riverside Park, as you can see in the picture below. Mom and I went on a walk the day after and took some pictures - what was most striking were all of the leaves on the ground. So many colors and textures, all mixed together. The park staff has done an amazing job cleaning up, although much of this downed tree is still there, weeks later.

Third, the subways were, of course, closed for several days, and then re-opened with limited service. This wasn't too big of a deal for us as we don't depend on the MTA on a regular basis to get where we need to go. but it was a reminder that our family was priveleged and lucky to have suffered so little, while millions were without power for days (many over a week), clean water, or cell phone service.

Save the storm, my mom's visit was an incredible amount of fun. We did some jigsaw puzzles (I'm not embarrassed to say that I do love a good puzzle), made some wonderful cupcakes (which I'll blog about on Plant Matters in the next day or two), spent lots of time playing with Felicity, cooked, drank lots of tea, and played some Scrabble and Bananagrams. My mom also took some great photos of Felicity (thank you Mom!), which of course I feel obligated to share with anyone who will look. I mean, she's adorable, isn't she?

Below are some of my favorites.

 I can't believe small Flick-a-Dee is almost one! Here she is, in all of her splendor, on the once-white chaise in our living room, dressed of course in some very cute clothes. This child may only speak in raspberries, but she will be dressed well while doing so!


















Felicity was dressed a monarch butterfly for her first Halloween. Apparently one of Mitt Romney's grandchildren also wore the same costume, or so I'm told. 




The last two pictures are of us looking at the dog run in Riverside Park the day after Hurricane Sandy. Felicity is incessantly fond of looking at dogs, and talking about/to dogs. And this is what I mean about the crazy leaves. It's a small detail, but it is probably what I will remember most about Hurricane Sandy, how the green leaves looked on the ground next to the brown, red, and gold leaves, and what it felt like trying to walk through the park, pushing a stroller after the storm.

Review: Broken Harbor

Broken Harbor by Tana French

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



I don't have a lot to say, so I'll make it brief:

Tana French is an amazing author.
I couldn't put this book down.
Most enjoyable thing I've read since The Hunger Games series.




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Review: Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, And Hope In A Mumbai Undercity

Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, And Hope In A Mumbai Undercity by Katherine Boo

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



I wasn't terribly excited when my book club chose Behind the Beautiful Forevers and, truth be told, I hated the first two-thirds of it. I felt that Boo was being dishonest - it read too much like fiction to be real - how could one woman account for so much happening at the same time, report what multiple peoples' thoughts were at one moment?

My journalist neighbor and friend gently rebuffed me in our building's laundry room as being a bit ungracious. She gave me some background on Katherine Boo, and what actually went into writing the book. I decided to keep reading it and gave her another chance. That said, when picking this up (and you should!), read the afterward first. It will enhance your reading experience, I promise!

This is not an enjoyable read. It is depressing and will make you feel terrible. Reading it reminded me of going on "missions trips" to Mexico in the junior high - you see and hear such terrible things, make absolutely no difference in the lives of people you are supposed to be helping, and the whole experience makes you incessantly grateful for what you have that for a week or two that you stumble around, not being bothered by minor inconveniences that would normally irritate, happy to have the possibility of being happy.

The very fact that slums still exist is awful, and Behind the Beautiful Forevers truly takes it to another level. Boo spent years with her subjects. The accounts of squalor are astounding, and even more troubling is the complete and absolute corruption in India. Reading about this corruption made me feel hopeless; what can possibly be done?

This is journalism at its best, raw and true and awful. I wish there had been some analysis at the end, perhaps some recommendations for further research or reading.



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Review: The Marriage Plot

The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides

My rating: 3 of 5 stars



It feels strange to only give The Marriage Plot three stars - I had a difficult time putting it down, especially the last half, which I finished in the last 24 hours. It was a good read, but I didn't actually enjoy the story itself.

Eugenides is a wonderful writer. I have yet to read The Virgin Suicides, but I recall Middlesex with fondness. Eugenides has a particular way of planting the reader in an environment with his subjects, letting the reader feel and think with his characters. His books are carefully and thoughtfully plotted. Yet The Marriage Plot was too raw, too vivid, too personal, and too intense. The characters were deeply unlikeable and did not develop as much as they could have, should have. It felt like I was watching three fish splash around each other in a too-small bucket while the water slowly drained out, and for what purpose?

I suppose this book is timely, what with the current recession and this generation's (my generation's) lack of direction and perceived ability to successfully and intentionally work hard. There is real anguish here - that even if we do our very best, it may not, will not bring us what we want, perhaps what we need.

My husband also made a humorous point. After over-exposure to my current obsession with the Gilmore Girls, he said he couldn't help but see and hear Phyllida and Alton as Emily and Richard Gilmore. Of course once he told me though, I did the same.



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