Every Wednesday I reach a mini milestone in my pregnancy by beginning a new week - I'm now 15 weeks into a supposedly 39-week pregnancy. At the beginning of each week Chris logs into a website called Baby Center and likes to read to me the baby's developments for that week. For those who are curious, the baby is already four inches long from "crown to rump," is the size of an apple, and can sense light. The entry always concludes with a suggested activity like signing up for a prenatal class (check), budgeting for the new baby (check) and talking to the baby to help the bonding process...
I'm a talker, but I don't see myself as the type to walk around talking to the baby or one who attaches headphones to my stomach in the hopes the baby will develop a taste for classical music. Chris, on the other hand, immediately tried taking advantage of the opportunity to influence the baby by talking to my stomach. I assume all the baby can hear are garbled sounds in a language it doesn't understand yet, because otherwise, it would have heard things like "Grow a wiener," "Your mom said if you're a girl you can't wear pink, but if you're a boy you can," and "You are now a Vikings fan. You can never like the Packers." He was kidding of course...except for the last bit. Although I assumed it's a given that the baby will be a Vikings fan, Chris pointed out that with all the talk on Sports Center about the draft, the baby could be forming its own ideas about which football team to support. If that's really the case, I'll gladly leave the room when anything football related is on TV.
Kiera, Matteo, Oliver and Soren
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Eener's Farm
My life has been spent bouncing between the suburbs and the city. I grew up in suburban New Jersey where corn fields gave way to developments in the span of my childhood. I've lived in a Mietskaserne in Berlin, an attic bedroom in the working class neighborhood of Brighton in Boston, and more recently, Uptown, in Minneapolis, which for Minnesotans is dense, but for me was still an urban oasis with its chain of lakes in walking distance from my brick oven of an apartment. Even though I now live in a suburban "townhouse' (they're rowhouses where I'm from) on a cul-de-sac, I still harbor a fascination for farm life, or at least a romantic view of it.
So that I could live my fantasy life, Chris and I bought a farm - well, kind of. We bought a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) share. In short, we pay for a subscription upfront, which helps the farmer support farming operations for the coming season, and in return, we receive a weekly share of the crops throughout the growing season. The risk we take is that weather, pests or some other disaster could ruin the crop or at least diminish the amount of food we receive each week. More information on the concept of CSA's can be found at http://www.localharvest.org/csa/ or http://www.nal.usda.gov/afsic/pubs/csa/csa.shtml. Given that I know nothing about farming and couldn't even keep the herbs alive that I bought at the St. Paul Farmer's Market last year, belonging to a CSA is actually the perfect set-up - someone else owns the farm and is responsible for growing the food, and I receive a box each week with the bounty. And I still get to visit the farm whenever I want to.
I'm really looking forward to being a part of Eener's Farm located in Boyceville, Wisconsin, a hour and a half drive from our home. I had the opportunity to meet Renee and other farmers a few weeks ago at the River Market Coop in downtown Stillwater at the CSA Fair and Farmer Panel. Renee was the only female farmer there and is the fourth generation to farm her family's land. She's roughly my age, has a young son, a husband and a black Labrador Retriever, and except for that fact that her life growing up on the Wisconsin farm must have been vastly different from my life in suburban Philadelphia, I felt like we could relate.
I have wanted to join a CSA for awhile, but this is the first time Chris and I have felt comfortable committing to something because we know we're not moving anywhere. Eener's allowed us to purchase a half share at half the price, which means we'll get a more manageable half a bushel box worth of produce, and it will be dropped off every Wednesday at the coop and stored in a refrigerator until one of us can pick it up. Since we don't live close to the St. Paul Farmer's Market anymore and our deck isn't conducive to gardening, the CSA is the closest I'll get to farm life for the time-being.
My reasons for joining a CSA extend beyond wanting a piece of farm life without actually having to physically grow the food myself. It's the next step in continuing a healthy lifestyle and my understanding of where our food comes from. I look at how far-removed my generation is from food - when it's grown, how it's grown and how it's cooked - and I've decided I want something different for my children. But how will they learn if I don't know either?
Changes in the way I thought about food began by becoming vegetarian my freshman year of college. This was before I'd ever even heard the word organic (as it relates to food) or the words "local," "food" and "grown" in the same sentence. I naively thought that the only way my decision would effect me would be that meat would be eliminated from from my diet, but was just the beginning of a series of lifestyle transformations. Since arranging a meal based around meat was no longer applicable, I discovered lentils, chickpeas and tofu and new cuisines like Indian, Thai and Mexican (believe it or not, I don't think I'd ever eaten Mexican until I went to college). When I no longer had Bowdoin's award-winning dining hall to eat at, I learned to cook. Dinner parties became one of my favorite entertainments. I went to Germany and discovered (surprise!) a bunch of vegetarians in my dorm. They were equally surprised to meet an American who knew how to cook (or at least tried to cook - spaghetti was still one of the few dishes in my repertoire)and defied their stereotypes. I loved shopping for fresh vegatables and cheese at the Marktplatz, I back in the States I discovered farmer's markets and coops. I began to care about nutrition and understand what constitutes a balanced meal, whether you're a meat-eater or not. While I remained a vegetarian, my diet radically changed over time as I made small changes to eat more healthfully. Then concern about where and how our food is grown reached mainstream America and I began to think more seriously about not only what was good for my health, but the health of the environment. Yes, I'd jumped on the local-is-better-than-organic bandwagon, even if I haven't gone as far as subscribing to the 100-mile diet - a superhero-like challenge in winter in Minnesota.
So when people ask me why I'm vegetarian, it's not such a simple, short or obvious answer anymore. Growing up with a meat-and-potatoes diet, living abroad and then making friends with my "earthy crunchy" classmates in college pushed me in the direction of adopting a vegetarian diet, but now it's become a way of life and has lead to me to new ways of thinking about our food culture, food itself, and how it's produced. The CSA allows me to go back to the basics and learn about Minnesota produce and when it's in season and how it can be used.
I anticipate belonging to a CSA to be a culinary adventure. A few days after we joined, I stumbled upon an article on www.slate.com - "The Locavore's Dilemma: What to do with the kale, turnips, and parsley that overwhelm your CSA bin," (http://www.slate.com/id/2214524/) which gave me a good laugh because I already knew this is totally what I'd be getting myself into. One of Chris's friends says he can't wait until I'm overwhelmed with beets and wants to see if I'll be able to come up with anything. The beets will be a challenge, but I hope there'll also be tons of bell peppers and tomatoes and Chris and I can finally make our own salsa since the jars Chris's Uncle Pat brings at Christmas last our household until about New Year's Day.
So that I could live my fantasy life, Chris and I bought a farm - well, kind of. We bought a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) share. In short, we pay for a subscription upfront, which helps the farmer support farming operations for the coming season, and in return, we receive a weekly share of the crops throughout the growing season. The risk we take is that weather, pests or some other disaster could ruin the crop or at least diminish the amount of food we receive each week. More information on the concept of CSA's can be found at http://www.localharvest.org/csa/ or http://www.nal.usda.gov/afsic/pubs/csa/csa.shtml. Given that I know nothing about farming and couldn't even keep the herbs alive that I bought at the St. Paul Farmer's Market last year, belonging to a CSA is actually the perfect set-up - someone else owns the farm and is responsible for growing the food, and I receive a box each week with the bounty. And I still get to visit the farm whenever I want to.
I'm really looking forward to being a part of Eener's Farm located in Boyceville, Wisconsin, a hour and a half drive from our home. I had the opportunity to meet Renee and other farmers a few weeks ago at the River Market Coop in downtown Stillwater at the CSA Fair and Farmer Panel. Renee was the only female farmer there and is the fourth generation to farm her family's land. She's roughly my age, has a young son, a husband and a black Labrador Retriever, and except for that fact that her life growing up on the Wisconsin farm must have been vastly different from my life in suburban Philadelphia, I felt like we could relate.
I have wanted to join a CSA for awhile, but this is the first time Chris and I have felt comfortable committing to something because we know we're not moving anywhere. Eener's allowed us to purchase a half share at half the price, which means we'll get a more manageable half a bushel box worth of produce, and it will be dropped off every Wednesday at the coop and stored in a refrigerator until one of us can pick it up. Since we don't live close to the St. Paul Farmer's Market anymore and our deck isn't conducive to gardening, the CSA is the closest I'll get to farm life for the time-being.
My reasons for joining a CSA extend beyond wanting a piece of farm life without actually having to physically grow the food myself. It's the next step in continuing a healthy lifestyle and my understanding of where our food comes from. I look at how far-removed my generation is from food - when it's grown, how it's grown and how it's cooked - and I've decided I want something different for my children. But how will they learn if I don't know either?
Changes in the way I thought about food began by becoming vegetarian my freshman year of college. This was before I'd ever even heard the word organic (as it relates to food) or the words "local," "food" and "grown" in the same sentence. I naively thought that the only way my decision would effect me would be that meat would be eliminated from from my diet, but was just the beginning of a series of lifestyle transformations. Since arranging a meal based around meat was no longer applicable, I discovered lentils, chickpeas and tofu and new cuisines like Indian, Thai and Mexican (believe it or not, I don't think I'd ever eaten Mexican until I went to college). When I no longer had Bowdoin's award-winning dining hall to eat at, I learned to cook. Dinner parties became one of my favorite entertainments. I went to Germany and discovered (surprise!) a bunch of vegetarians in my dorm. They were equally surprised to meet an American who knew how to cook (or at least tried to cook - spaghetti was still one of the few dishes in my repertoire)and defied their stereotypes. I loved shopping for fresh vegatables and cheese at the Marktplatz, I back in the States I discovered farmer's markets and coops. I began to care about nutrition and understand what constitutes a balanced meal, whether you're a meat-eater or not. While I remained a vegetarian, my diet radically changed over time as I made small changes to eat more healthfully. Then concern about where and how our food is grown reached mainstream America and I began to think more seriously about not only what was good for my health, but the health of the environment. Yes, I'd jumped on the local-is-better-than-organic bandwagon, even if I haven't gone as far as subscribing to the 100-mile diet - a superhero-like challenge in winter in Minnesota.
So when people ask me why I'm vegetarian, it's not such a simple, short or obvious answer anymore. Growing up with a meat-and-potatoes diet, living abroad and then making friends with my "earthy crunchy" classmates in college pushed me in the direction of adopting a vegetarian diet, but now it's become a way of life and has lead to me to new ways of thinking about our food culture, food itself, and how it's produced. The CSA allows me to go back to the basics and learn about Minnesota produce and when it's in season and how it can be used.
I anticipate belonging to a CSA to be a culinary adventure. A few days after we joined, I stumbled upon an article on www.slate.com - "The Locavore's Dilemma: What to do with the kale, turnips, and parsley that overwhelm your CSA bin," (http://www.slate.com/id/2214524/) which gave me a good laugh because I already knew this is totally what I'd be getting myself into. One of Chris's friends says he can't wait until I'm overwhelmed with beets and wants to see if I'll be able to come up with anything. The beets will be a challenge, but I hope there'll also be tons of bell peppers and tomatoes and Chris and I can finally make our own salsa since the jars Chris's Uncle Pat brings at Christmas last our household until about New Year's Day.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
12-Week Doctor's Appointment
These two pieces of advice came from the staff at my obstetrician's office: (1)" Babies are resilient. I mean, as long as you're not doing meth, the baby will be fine." (2) "You can throw out the book (as in the baby book). People love to torture pregnant women." Good thing I gave up that costly meth habit when Chris and I started paring down our household expenses and most of those things I'd heard pregnant women can't do is apparently just a bunch of baloney.
When you read up on the subject of pregnancy as much as I have, it's easy to stress yourself out about all the things you have to change about your life or do to create this perfect environment for your baby-to-be. Every activity or bite of food must be pre-approved by that little voice in the back of your head that's evaluated the action based on how likely it will be to doom your baby. The basis for this evaluation ranges from information you actually read in a book written by a credible source, an urban myth, something you heard from a friend about her friend's sister's co-worker who had a baby, or common practice that may or may not be based on up-to-date scientific knowledge.
It was my obstetrician, Dr. Toppin, who I met for the first time at yesterday's 12-week appointment, who advised me to throw out the baby book. (Funny, it was the clinic who gave me the book Your Pregnancy & Birth as a gift - but I'll keep it since it serves as a good reference.) She continued by telling me that people, women and men, like to torture pregnant women and make comments about anything to a pregnant woman, and they will make assessments just by looking at you that a doctor wouldn't be able to make until looking at an ultrasound. Despite what I will hear, she assured me that I can continue to eat what I want, do what I want and basically, live my life as I have been. She said this, of course, after having reviewed my health history, so she knew I wasn't a drinker or a drug-user, (I was joking about that meth habit Grandmother) didn't have a dangerous job, was taking a multi-vitamin and was active and in good health. The results of my tests from the nine-week appointment and the ultrasound I'd had shortly before meeting with Dr. Toppin, didn't show anything to be concerned about. My baby and I are healthy.
I learned that I'm allowed to sleep on my back, (another one of those myths - one I'd believed since women on my Pregtastic podcast had been advised by their doctors not to sleep on their backs later in the pregnancy) which is important since I'm a back-sleeper. I can continue my regular exercise routine, (except for soccer, of course) including weight-lifting, for which Dr. Toppin gave some general pointers.
Dr. Toppin explained the nuchal translucency test I had preformed. The test involves an ultrasound and a blood test performed between approximately 11 and 14 weeks (despite it being my "12-week" appointment," I was actually at 13 weeks and two days yesterday). During the ultrasound, the technician measures the fetal heart rate, estimates the gestational age and measures the amount of fluid accumulation (nuchal translucency) behind the neck of the baby. Blood droplets were collected from a prick in my finger to measure certain chemicals and proteins found in the blood of pregnant women. Compared with amniocentesis or CVS, it's non-invasive and it only determines my risk factor for carrying a baby with Down Syndrome and trisomies 18 and 13. It does not determine whether my baby will have Down Syndrome; it only determines whether further testing can be suggested.
She also explained common ultrasound findings, such as cysts on the baby's brain, which do not necessarily mean anything is wrong with the baby. Dr. Toppin said that our ability to interpret technology's findings can't keep up with the technology itself. With the example of ultrasound technology, major improvements are made to the equipment every two or three years, so the tiny laptop ultrasound system used in her practice is leaps and bounds more powerful than the equipment used when she was in residency. Now doctors can pick up things like cysts on the brain, but haven't yet figured out what risk is associated with them. In the example of the cysts, they usually resolve themselves by the third trimester, so the fact that we know they ever even existed doesn't improve or affect prenatal care.
Although the average healthy pregnancy may only result in one ultrasound at 20 weeks, I've had two so far. Yesterday's, because I chose to have the nuchal translucency test, and the other at five weeks to determine how far along I was so I could have my first couple of routine appointments scheduled. I think the technology of being able to see inside my stomach is pretty cool, but the sight wasn't all that impressive the first time around. I couldn't figure out what there was even to look at. Now, at the last week of my first trimester, my baby is starting to look like a real baby and not just a blob on the screen. Although I'm self-conscious that I'm showing, I know that I don't yet look pregnant to the person I pass on the street. Instead, I just feel fat, and the ultrasound was a welcomed reminder that I'm pregnant and progressing healthfully. I thought it was cool when the technician pressed down on my abdomen with the ultrasound "wand" and got the baby to roll over into a position better for taking measurements. Then we were sent out the door with our first strip of ultrasound pictures just in time for a Chesla get-together for Easter.
When you read up on the subject of pregnancy as much as I have, it's easy to stress yourself out about all the things you have to change about your life or do to create this perfect environment for your baby-to-be. Every activity or bite of food must be pre-approved by that little voice in the back of your head that's evaluated the action based on how likely it will be to doom your baby. The basis for this evaluation ranges from information you actually read in a book written by a credible source, an urban myth, something you heard from a friend about her friend's sister's co-worker who had a baby, or common practice that may or may not be based on up-to-date scientific knowledge.
It was my obstetrician, Dr. Toppin, who I met for the first time at yesterday's 12-week appointment, who advised me to throw out the baby book. (Funny, it was the clinic who gave me the book Your Pregnancy & Birth as a gift - but I'll keep it since it serves as a good reference.) She continued by telling me that people, women and men, like to torture pregnant women and make comments about anything to a pregnant woman, and they will make assessments just by looking at you that a doctor wouldn't be able to make until looking at an ultrasound. Despite what I will hear, she assured me that I can continue to eat what I want, do what I want and basically, live my life as I have been. She said this, of course, after having reviewed my health history, so she knew I wasn't a drinker or a drug-user, (I was joking about that meth habit Grandmother) didn't have a dangerous job, was taking a multi-vitamin and was active and in good health. The results of my tests from the nine-week appointment and the ultrasound I'd had shortly before meeting with Dr. Toppin, didn't show anything to be concerned about. My baby and I are healthy.
I learned that I'm allowed to sleep on my back, (another one of those myths - one I'd believed since women on my Pregtastic podcast had been advised by their doctors not to sleep on their backs later in the pregnancy) which is important since I'm a back-sleeper. I can continue my regular exercise routine, (except for soccer, of course) including weight-lifting, for which Dr. Toppin gave some general pointers.
Dr. Toppin explained the nuchal translucency test I had preformed. The test involves an ultrasound and a blood test performed between approximately 11 and 14 weeks (despite it being my "12-week" appointment," I was actually at 13 weeks and two days yesterday). During the ultrasound, the technician measures the fetal heart rate, estimates the gestational age and measures the amount of fluid accumulation (nuchal translucency) behind the neck of the baby. Blood droplets were collected from a prick in my finger to measure certain chemicals and proteins found in the blood of pregnant women. Compared with amniocentesis or CVS, it's non-invasive and it only determines my risk factor for carrying a baby with Down Syndrome and trisomies 18 and 13. It does not determine whether my baby will have Down Syndrome; it only determines whether further testing can be suggested.
She also explained common ultrasound findings, such as cysts on the baby's brain, which do not necessarily mean anything is wrong with the baby. Dr. Toppin said that our ability to interpret technology's findings can't keep up with the technology itself. With the example of ultrasound technology, major improvements are made to the equipment every two or three years, so the tiny laptop ultrasound system used in her practice is leaps and bounds more powerful than the equipment used when she was in residency. Now doctors can pick up things like cysts on the brain, but haven't yet figured out what risk is associated with them. In the example of the cysts, they usually resolve themselves by the third trimester, so the fact that we know they ever even existed doesn't improve or affect prenatal care.
Although the average healthy pregnancy may only result in one ultrasound at 20 weeks, I've had two so far. Yesterday's, because I chose to have the nuchal translucency test, and the other at five weeks to determine how far along I was so I could have my first couple of routine appointments scheduled. I think the technology of being able to see inside my stomach is pretty cool, but the sight wasn't all that impressive the first time around. I couldn't figure out what there was even to look at. Now, at the last week of my first trimester, my baby is starting to look like a real baby and not just a blob on the screen. Although I'm self-conscious that I'm showing, I know that I don't yet look pregnant to the person I pass on the street. Instead, I just feel fat, and the ultrasound was a welcomed reminder that I'm pregnant and progressing healthfully. I thought it was cool when the technician pressed down on my abdomen with the ultrasound "wand" and got the baby to roll over into a position better for taking measurements. Then we were sent out the door with our first strip of ultrasound pictures just in time for a Chesla get-together for Easter.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Week 12: Ups and Downs
Ups
1. Sensing I was a little cranky on Friday, and having missed seeing me when he left to go out with friends before I came home from work, Chris left me the sweetest voice mail message. He reminded me of how excited he is for the baby and thanked me in essence for taking one for the team. It may be an uncomfortable couple of months for me, but he's so convinced the outcome will be awesome. When you're in the early stage of a relationship, you put so much energy (and usually money) into wowing the other person and trying to make each anniversary or Valentine's Day more memorable than the last. Why does it take us so long to realize that something as simple as a voice mail message, or an e-mail sent during the work day to say "I love you," can be the most meaningful?
Downs
1. I've heard the term "nesting", where (usually) women go into the hyper organizational phase and go all out in preparing the house for the baby. Contrary, I feel like I'm more in the phase one experiences right before marrying, where one tries to revel in every last bit of freedom. I didn't actually go through this phase before I married, but I'm starting to feel the need to do all these things I don't think I'll be able to do, or at least as easily, once I have a kid. I don't know if this is necessarily a down, because the positive side is I'm forcing myself to be more social, even when it's a challenge to muster the energy. Although my parents traveled a lot with me when I was a baby, I'm trying to plan a trip out East this summer to visit friends and family, not only because it's about time I visit some friends I haven't seen in ages, but because I have this underlying fear that this is the last time I'll be able to do a trip like this. Meanwhile, when a friend invited me to a party last night - in St. Cloud - I went. I laughed at the irony of worrying that once I have a kid, I won't be able to jump at the opportunity to go to St. Cloud.
2. When I lived in Minneapolis, the woman across the hall from me was a kettle ball instructor, and she was ripped. I thought that if I could look half as good as she did when I'm 50, I'd be satisfied. I finally got to try an introductory kettle ball class at Chris's gym on Saturday. I really liked it, and would recommend it to any women who are interested in weight lifting, but are intimited by the weight room (it's the same type of workout, and the class I attended happened to be all women). Unfortunately, I'm so sore that I can barely walk! On one hand, it's nice to have been able to do something while pregnant that actually gave me that good of a workout, but on the other hand, I'm just painfully sore right now.
1. Sensing I was a little cranky on Friday, and having missed seeing me when he left to go out with friends before I came home from work, Chris left me the sweetest voice mail message. He reminded me of how excited he is for the baby and thanked me in essence for taking one for the team. It may be an uncomfortable couple of months for me, but he's so convinced the outcome will be awesome. When you're in the early stage of a relationship, you put so much energy (and usually money) into wowing the other person and trying to make each anniversary or Valentine's Day more memorable than the last. Why does it take us so long to realize that something as simple as a voice mail message, or an e-mail sent during the work day to say "I love you," can be the most meaningful?
Downs
1. I've heard the term "nesting", where (usually) women go into the hyper organizational phase and go all out in preparing the house for the baby. Contrary, I feel like I'm more in the phase one experiences right before marrying, where one tries to revel in every last bit of freedom. I didn't actually go through this phase before I married, but I'm starting to feel the need to do all these things I don't think I'll be able to do, or at least as easily, once I have a kid. I don't know if this is necessarily a down, because the positive side is I'm forcing myself to be more social, even when it's a challenge to muster the energy. Although my parents traveled a lot with me when I was a baby, I'm trying to plan a trip out East this summer to visit friends and family, not only because it's about time I visit some friends I haven't seen in ages, but because I have this underlying fear that this is the last time I'll be able to do a trip like this. Meanwhile, when a friend invited me to a party last night - in St. Cloud - I went. I laughed at the irony of worrying that once I have a kid, I won't be able to jump at the opportunity to go to St. Cloud.
2. When I lived in Minneapolis, the woman across the hall from me was a kettle ball instructor, and she was ripped. I thought that if I could look half as good as she did when I'm 50, I'd be satisfied. I finally got to try an introductory kettle ball class at Chris's gym on Saturday. I really liked it, and would recommend it to any women who are interested in weight lifting, but are intimited by the weight room (it's the same type of workout, and the class I attended happened to be all women). Unfortunately, I'm so sore that I can barely walk! On one hand, it's nice to have been able to do something while pregnant that actually gave me that good of a workout, but on the other hand, I'm just painfully sore right now.
Pink is for Boys, Blue is for Girls?
Chris, who got me into podcasts, stumbled upon one he insisted I had to listen to - "What's the deal with pink and blue?" from the podcast Stuff Mom Never Told You. Seriously, what is the deal with everything for girls having to be pink and everything for boys having to be blue? Do we not have more imagination than that?
The podcasters' research couldn't find definitive explanations for why we associate these colors with certain sexes, but they did reveal a surprise for me that in the 1920s, boys wore pink, which was considered a masculine color, and girls wore blue, which was considered a dainty and delicate color. Before that, boys and girls wore white dresses. For an unexplained reason, the colors flip-flopped in the 1940s and since then, pink has been a sign of femininity in Western culture. And pink isn't going away even as girls grow into adulthood. We wear pink (or buy pink) to support breast cancer research, marketers use pink to try to lure female customers (Blackberries, once used exclusively by male professionals, shot up in sales when pink was introduced to get interested in what was considered the ultimate male gadget), and stores like Victoria's Secret have a whole clothing line based around pink.
Is the pink/blue dichotomy a complete social construct or is it rooted in biology? There hasn't been a lot of research on the subject, but the podcasters did point out a study where different colors were shown to groups of British and Chinese women and the majority chose colors from the red spectrum, which suggests that a preference for pink (or red) is not a social construct, but a universal biological trait. However, the podcasters brought up the fact that red is associated with luck in China, and suggested that more research is needed. The few studies completed do suggest that women are biologically drawn to red and hypothesize that in hunter-gather times, women needed to evolve to see the red in ripe berries or recognize the flush cheeks of a sick child.
Regardless of any supposed biological roots in color preferences, we're no longer hunter gatherers and in my opinion, color preferences are now entirely social constructs. I wish the podcasters had been able to answer the question of why when babies were dressed in white dresses for so long, we suddenly switched to pink for boys and blue for girls (which is contrary to the studies about women being biologically attracted to reds) and then in the course of a generation completely reversed practices.
I've had a difficult relationship with the color pink. I don't know if it was the way my parents raised me, but I was never a girly-girl. I despised pink and dresses clear into young adulthood (I have since discovered that skirts can actually be quite practical and when the only petite extra small shirt left is in the color pink, I'm just excited to find something that fits.) When my mom decided she was going to paint all our bedrooms, she let me choose my bedroom color and I chose blue, which is still my favorite color. She thought my brother was too young to pick a color for himself, so he would be getting whatever color my mom choose for her and my dad's room. She called it peach, but as we all know, the paint color always looks different on the wall than it does on the card at the hardware store. My brother ended up with a pink bedroom.
With the need to be able to have hand-me-downs for my brother, I often didn't have a choice in things like bikes, where I always had to have a boys bike. In fifth grade, my mom finally let me choose any bike I wanted and immediately choose not only a girl's bike, but a pink one. (In actuality, there probably wasn't any other choice of color.) After having so many boys things, it was the only way I could reclaim any semblance of girlyness, even if that's not who I was.
It's not a surprise to me that everyone inevitably asks me whether I'm going to find out the sex of the baby. Chris hates surprises and really wants to know, while I think it takes the fun out of it. I look forward to the surprise. Regardless of what our society does with the information on the sex of the baby, I really just don't feel the need to find out.
When I joked with my boss that as a planner, I can't help get started early in planning for the baby, she exclaimed, "Except you don't want to know the sex the of the baby?!" How on earth does knowing the sex of the baby help us better plan? So we can repaint the dark grey future baby's room in Pepto-Bismol pink and give it a ballerina theme, or repaint in baby blue with a sports or race car theme. I find it an advantage to not knowing (or not telling if I do end up finding out), because it saves my kid from being born into a gender stereotype. Whether my son becomes a guy's guy or wants to wear a tutu, or my daughter loves the outdoors and getting dirty, or gasp, wants to be a cheerleader, that's for them to decide. Society will influence much of their taste in colors, activities or interests, but I'd rather try to give him or her a neutral start.
The podcasters' research couldn't find definitive explanations for why we associate these colors with certain sexes, but they did reveal a surprise for me that in the 1920s, boys wore pink, which was considered a masculine color, and girls wore blue, which was considered a dainty and delicate color. Before that, boys and girls wore white dresses. For an unexplained reason, the colors flip-flopped in the 1940s and since then, pink has been a sign of femininity in Western culture. And pink isn't going away even as girls grow into adulthood. We wear pink (or buy pink) to support breast cancer research, marketers use pink to try to lure female customers (Blackberries, once used exclusively by male professionals, shot up in sales when pink was introduced to get interested in what was considered the ultimate male gadget), and stores like Victoria's Secret have a whole clothing line based around pink.
Is the pink/blue dichotomy a complete social construct or is it rooted in biology? There hasn't been a lot of research on the subject, but the podcasters did point out a study where different colors were shown to groups of British and Chinese women and the majority chose colors from the red spectrum, which suggests that a preference for pink (or red) is not a social construct, but a universal biological trait. However, the podcasters brought up the fact that red is associated with luck in China, and suggested that more research is needed. The few studies completed do suggest that women are biologically drawn to red and hypothesize that in hunter-gather times, women needed to evolve to see the red in ripe berries or recognize the flush cheeks of a sick child.
Regardless of any supposed biological roots in color preferences, we're no longer hunter gatherers and in my opinion, color preferences are now entirely social constructs. I wish the podcasters had been able to answer the question of why when babies were dressed in white dresses for so long, we suddenly switched to pink for boys and blue for girls (which is contrary to the studies about women being biologically attracted to reds) and then in the course of a generation completely reversed practices.
I've had a difficult relationship with the color pink. I don't know if it was the way my parents raised me, but I was never a girly-girl. I despised pink and dresses clear into young adulthood (I have since discovered that skirts can actually be quite practical and when the only petite extra small shirt left is in the color pink, I'm just excited to find something that fits.) When my mom decided she was going to paint all our bedrooms, she let me choose my bedroom color and I chose blue, which is still my favorite color. She thought my brother was too young to pick a color for himself, so he would be getting whatever color my mom choose for her and my dad's room. She called it peach, but as we all know, the paint color always looks different on the wall than it does on the card at the hardware store. My brother ended up with a pink bedroom.
With the need to be able to have hand-me-downs for my brother, I often didn't have a choice in things like bikes, where I always had to have a boys bike. In fifth grade, my mom finally let me choose any bike I wanted and immediately choose not only a girl's bike, but a pink one. (In actuality, there probably wasn't any other choice of color.) After having so many boys things, it was the only way I could reclaim any semblance of girlyness, even if that's not who I was.
It's not a surprise to me that everyone inevitably asks me whether I'm going to find out the sex of the baby. Chris hates surprises and really wants to know, while I think it takes the fun out of it. I look forward to the surprise. Regardless of what our society does with the information on the sex of the baby, I really just don't feel the need to find out.
When I joked with my boss that as a planner, I can't help get started early in planning for the baby, she exclaimed, "Except you don't want to know the sex the of the baby?!" How on earth does knowing the sex of the baby help us better plan? So we can repaint the dark grey future baby's room in Pepto-Bismol pink and give it a ballerina theme, or repaint in baby blue with a sports or race car theme. I find it an advantage to not knowing (or not telling if I do end up finding out), because it saves my kid from being born into a gender stereotype. Whether my son becomes a guy's guy or wants to wear a tutu, or my daughter loves the outdoors and getting dirty, or gasp, wants to be a cheerleader, that's for them to decide. Society will influence much of their taste in colors, activities or interests, but I'd rather try to give him or her a neutral start.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Outfitting the Baby
This is less of a story and more a request to keep your eyes and ears open for any “gently used” baby stuff your friends, co-workers or neighbors may be selling over the next couple of months. Chris went to tackle organizing what will become the baby’s room, but realized since we have nothing yet – no crib, dresser, clothing, toys or decorations – he wasn’t sure what needed to be moved out and what we need to make room for.
We’re trying to be friendly to the environment, and we’re well, frugal, and would rather buy used to save money. But we’re also looking for quality, because we plan to get as much mileage out of this stuff as possible. We hope to use any baby equipment for future children and would rather buy furniture that can be repurposed as toddler furniture and even teenage furniture way down the line.
As parents-to-be, we’re haven’t quite figured out exactly what we’ll need, but we’re starting our search for certain items:
• crib (in white to contrast the dark grey walls we don’t want to repaint; preferably one that converts to a toddler bed)
• crib bedding
• mattress
• dresser and/or changing table (also in white and doesn’t have to be a true changing table, but a piece of furniture we can put a changing pad on top of and then repurpose as a regular dresser as the baby grows older)
• book shelves (in white)
• toy chest
• stroller (preferably one with a matching car seat)
• car seat (we know car seats come with expiration dates and we’ve been told this is the one thing you should buy new, but if we know the seller and know the seat wasn’t used in a car involved in an accident, we’ll consider it)
• 2 car seat bases
• baby sling (along the lines of a Baby Bjorn)
• child carrier (a backpack you can plop your baby into and go for a hike, run errands, or mow the lawn; I tried on packs made by Deuter, Kelty, and REI that fit well on my small frame)
• cloth diapers
We’re open to advice on what brands you trust or what gadgets you found you can’t live without. We know the above list is quite short, but it’s just what we’re starting with. If you hear about anything else for sale, please let us know.
We’re trying to be friendly to the environment, and we’re well, frugal, and would rather buy used to save money. But we’re also looking for quality, because we plan to get as much mileage out of this stuff as possible. We hope to use any baby equipment for future children and would rather buy furniture that can be repurposed as toddler furniture and even teenage furniture way down the line.
As parents-to-be, we’re haven’t quite figured out exactly what we’ll need, but we’re starting our search for certain items:
• crib (in white to contrast the dark grey walls we don’t want to repaint; preferably one that converts to a toddler bed)
• crib bedding
• mattress
• dresser and/or changing table (also in white and doesn’t have to be a true changing table, but a piece of furniture we can put a changing pad on top of and then repurpose as a regular dresser as the baby grows older)
• book shelves (in white)
• toy chest
• stroller (preferably one with a matching car seat)
• car seat (we know car seats come with expiration dates and we’ve been told this is the one thing you should buy new, but if we know the seller and know the seat wasn’t used in a car involved in an accident, we’ll consider it)
• 2 car seat bases
• baby sling (along the lines of a Baby Bjorn)
• child carrier (a backpack you can plop your baby into and go for a hike, run errands, or mow the lawn; I tried on packs made by Deuter, Kelty, and REI that fit well on my small frame)
• cloth diapers
We’re open to advice on what brands you trust or what gadgets you found you can’t live without. We know the above list is quite short, but it’s just what we’re starting with. If you hear about anything else for sale, please let us know.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The word is out at work
Up until now, work had been an oasis from baby talk since no one knew. I had been holding off breaking the news primarily because a co-worker just gave birth less than two weeks ago and I didn't want to steal the spotlight from her. I felt like it was akin to announcing my engagement at someone else's wedding.
My reasons for delaying the news ran a little deeper though. While Chris has already told some co-workers he's particularly close with, I feel that as the one who is actually carrying the baby, the situation is different and the stakes are higher. Although everyone was thrilled for me when I announced it at this morning's weekly staff meeting (after they were sure it wasn't an April Fool's joke), I was still nervous about how the news would really be taken by my bosses. My position has been a revolving door for women who've left when they've gotten pregnant. In fact, one of the first things my female boss said to me when showing me my desk on my first day is that I can't get pregnant. What a welcome. I had my job, because the woman before me went on maternity leave with the plan to return after three months, but never did. Sure the subsequent jokes about me not being allowed to have children were surely meant in jest, but the office culture left me dodging innocent questions from co-workers about plans for children.
Although everything turned out well, as I really did expect, only when I became pregnant myself did the notion that pregnancy could effect a woman's job security, even in 2009, finally seem real. And the current state of the economy has only helped full my paranoia. A friend of mine, who recently gave birth, was fired from her job when she was five months pregnant. She believed her pregnancy was the primary reason for her termination and the attorney she consulted thought she had a good case. I was roiled over the injustice, but now I really understand the hopelessness she must have felt about even interviewing for a new job when she's visibly pregnant. As my office went through layoffs recently, I did wonder what my options would be if I were to be laid off. I'd been thinking a lot about all this even before I saw the article "When the Stork Carries a Pink Slip" in today's New York Times.
Luckily, the experience my friend had seems to be the exception and my pregnancy has just given me more food for thought about workplace issues for pregnant woman. As it was to be able to tell my friends and family that I'm pregnant, I was really happy to finally be able to tell my co-workers and it feels good to have the secret out.
My reasons for delaying the news ran a little deeper though. While Chris has already told some co-workers he's particularly close with, I feel that as the one who is actually carrying the baby, the situation is different and the stakes are higher. Although everyone was thrilled for me when I announced it at this morning's weekly staff meeting (after they were sure it wasn't an April Fool's joke), I was still nervous about how the news would really be taken by my bosses. My position has been a revolving door for women who've left when they've gotten pregnant. In fact, one of the first things my female boss said to me when showing me my desk on my first day is that I can't get pregnant. What a welcome. I had my job, because the woman before me went on maternity leave with the plan to return after three months, but never did. Sure the subsequent jokes about me not being allowed to have children were surely meant in jest, but the office culture left me dodging innocent questions from co-workers about plans for children.
Although everything turned out well, as I really did expect, only when I became pregnant myself did the notion that pregnancy could effect a woman's job security, even in 2009, finally seem real. And the current state of the economy has only helped full my paranoia. A friend of mine, who recently gave birth, was fired from her job when she was five months pregnant. She believed her pregnancy was the primary reason for her termination and the attorney she consulted thought she had a good case. I was roiled over the injustice, but now I really understand the hopelessness she must have felt about even interviewing for a new job when she's visibly pregnant. As my office went through layoffs recently, I did wonder what my options would be if I were to be laid off. I'd been thinking a lot about all this even before I saw the article "When the Stork Carries a Pink Slip" in today's New York Times.
Luckily, the experience my friend had seems to be the exception and my pregnancy has just given me more food for thought about workplace issues for pregnant woman. As it was to be able to tell my friends and family that I'm pregnant, I was really happy to finally be able to tell my co-workers and it feels good to have the secret out.
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