Symbiosis

In utero, the baby is more of a parasite, as defined in biology:

An organism that grows, feeds, and is sheltered on or in a different organism while contributing nothing to the survival of its host.

Now out and about for 4 months, our relationship has become more symbiotic. Our lives are intertwined in a curious dance, linked by our separate but closely related needs.

Take nutrition, for example. I have to eat not least to make milk these days, but rue the day I eat red cabbage, dairy, or any of the other foods that set off Freya's GI tract! The payback is immediate and vehement, her body arching in pain, accompanied by jags of crying, bursts of flatulence and foul diapers.

Closely related to that phenomenon is the whole matter of sleep. She needs to sleep but is just getting the hang of wanting comfort and attention more than rest, setting of a merry spiral of crying (she), comforting (we), thumbsucking (she), rocking her (we), flailing about (she), hair pulling (all), and bottle/boob deployment (we). Finally she tires out and goes back to sleep, while Steve and I debrief about how to do it better next time -- assuming we can remember at 3 a.m...

Off the chart

It's official, Freya is her parents' daughter. At the pediatrician's today she weighed in at 11 pds 3 oz, her head is 40 cm around -- both put her in the 50th percentile. She is 25 inches long -- literally off the chart for her age. That's my girl :-)

The Pump Files - Vol. 2

As it turns out, it's not that big a deal traveling with a breast pump, gel pack, various bottles, and a small cooler. Once I got over having to (remember to!) schlep all that stuff with me on a trip to the office and set aside regular half-hour intervals during which to pump, it turned out to be remarkably easy to get through airport security.

The TSA has new rules that allow you to bring pump and supplies, including ice, with you when not accompanied by the baby. Apparently that wasn't always the case, so I printed out the relevant pages on their site, ready to whip them out when/if confronted by a clueless TSA agent. But the folks at SFO and PDX were well trained, and all I had to say was that I am carrying medical equipment and supplies, and put the little cooler through separately, and that was that. No fuss, no delays, and very straightforward. We'll see how it goes when Freya, mother and I travel to Canada next month with our moderate heap of baby paraphernalia.

Working motherhood

There is working motherhood, and then there is working motherhood. For the first eight weeks, I was working motherhood, enjoying the bliss of nurturing a tiny baby, getting used to a new routine, and receiving oodles of good vibes from friends and strangers.

For the last two weeks, I have been easing into working motherhood. As expected, it's already proving to be a juggling act, even with my mother around to look after Freya while I work. Meetings with baby in tow work with a few indulgent business associates. Going to a work-related event with Freya in a sling worked until she started fussing during the second after dinner speech. Some meeting organizers are happy to accommodate the entourage I travel with. Two organizations even pay for my mom's travel expenses to accompany me to board meetings. I am learning interesting things about hotels and cribs.

Today I was comforted by these words of wisdom from another executive mom:

"When you figure out how to make the perfect balance between motherhood and work, do let me know. In my 11 year effort, I find it is a constant journey towards balance where you never arrive, but I have learned to sit back and appreciate and enjoy the journey."

I will be repeating this mantra-like in my mind as I embark on my first plane journey with breast pump paraphernalia in a couple of days -- by all accounts not a happy experience...