a feminist resource on pregnancy, birth, & parenting

Two years ago yesterday, I transitioned from my old URL on Blogger to this space, with a new title and a stronger sense of what I wanted to do online. I’ve written over 230 posts here and met a lot of wonderful folks through their comments and links to their own online spaces.

Here’s a graphic representations of what I’ve been talking about all this time:

Thanks for reading! I like being here, talking with all of you.

6 things I’ve experienced during the past week:

• two more bouts of visual disturbances, rather like the beginnings of an optical migraine (white dazzling lights creating blind spots, no funsies and very awkward when you’re meeting a group of students on the very first day of classes, let me tell you!)
• serious ramping-up of Braxton Hicks contractions (mostly a neat thing, though the ones that are uncomfortable/painful enough to wake me up in the middle of the night are not so charming)
• one evening of hope (from my journal on 3 Feb.: “I’m having a much easier time with food than even a month or two ago. [...] Maybe I’m having slightly less queasiness some days? And maybe slightly less reflux stuff than at its worst?”)
• immediately followed by a dramatic increase in vomiting, nausea, and heartburn that’s been much longer-lasting than the foolish hope
• first sensation of fetal hiccups during this pregnancy (so neat!)
• hours of agonizing, classic heartburn

2 things that have amazed me about other people’s responses to this pregnancy:

• How near-universally asking about the fetus’s sex is people’s immediate reaction to noticing that I’m pregnant. “What are you having?” is perhaps my least favorite manifestation of this knee-jerk curiosity, although I have to admit I’m a little fond of it because it allows me to respond with a deadpan “a human baby, we hope” and then watch the person be confused. There’s also a lot of “Do you know the gender?” (um, can’t really attribute a gender identity to the fetus, sorry: I think this is people being eeked out about saying “sex” and “baby” in the same sentence?) and the less-bizarre “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” I want to know: do people really care that much? It seems so insignificant to me.
• How easily I’ve gotten away with not having a ‘due date,’ at least so far. Whenever anyone asks when I’m due, I say “in the spring” (for strangers and work people) or “April or May” (for friends and family, or when I’m just feeling more specific). This is because I literally do not know my EDD and conceptualize myself as ‘due’ sometime in April or May. It’s also, admittedly, because I have huge philosophical problems with how EDDs are regarded in our culture and medical establishment. And because Noah’s ‘due date’ was a load of crap that caused us no end of stress and annoyance. I figured I’d get some kickback on this issue—‘no, really, when are you due?’ But everybody’s just rolled with it, at least so far. It’s like they don’t even notice that they’re getting a season or two-month range rather than a date.

7 things that wake me up in the night and/or prevent me from getting back to sleep:

• The fetus: Generally a not-getting-back-to-sleep (or not-getting-to-sleep-in-the-first-place) thing, rather than actually waking me up from sleep, but this thing is active and strong and makes sudden, startling movements.
• My uterus: I’ve been waking up with strong Braxton Hicks contractions a few times a night for the past few nights. Then I have to pee, then the fetus wakes up, etc.
• The fetus and my uterus impinging upon my bladder: This week marked a shift from a generally once-nightly trip to the bathroom to waking at least three times a night needing to pee.
• Hips, belly, and general difficulty being comfortable in one position for long: Wake up uncomfortable, struggle with the king-sized pillow that lies alongside me to prop me up in a non-painful position in an effort to move it to my other side, turn over (spine crackling as I go), rearrange self around pillow, possibly decide I have to pee or get bopped by now-awake fetus. Repeat every hour or two.
• Bizarre, vivid dreams: Some weird shit’s going down in my subconscious. And sometimes it wakes me up, and sometimes it’s hard to get back to sleep if that particular batch of weird shit was scary or especially disorienting. Or I notice I need to pee, or the fetus starts having a dance party, or …
• An even more extreme oversensitivity to noises than usual: I’m always bad at sleeping, and I guess I’m just an extra-light sleeper right now because of all the other crap. If our noise machine or fan goes into a slightly odd pattern, or Eric flosses his teeth or gets a snack, or our dog stands up and turns around or scratches herself, I seem to notice.
• Eric leaving or coming to bed. And, occasionally, Eric turning over or snoring, Noah coughing or crying, etc. But they’re definitely the least of my worries.

2 random things I’m grateful for:

• I have not yet woken up because of reflux. That sounds totally awful.
• I have a private office with a real door. If you’re going to be exhausted and sick at work, having your own office with a comfy chair is a huge luxury, and I know I’m lucky to have it.

from Alice Bradley at Finslippy, “On Being an Object, and Then Not Being an Object”

There were other incidents, too; so many incidents. Every one underscored the message that I wasn’t safe, that I deserved whatever was coming to me, because I was young and a woman and that was how it was and also I should appreciate it. I tried to look unapproachable, but I don’t think my face works that way; I just looked sad and then men barked at me to cheer up, to give them a smile. I wanted to look hard and angry. Lord knows I wanted to be intimidating. It just didn’t work.

from Natalie Slaughter at Fatshionelle, “Bodies as Property”

I eventually learned to love my fat body. To learn that I don’t have to settle for someone just because they’re one of the rare creatures on this earth to find mine attractive. That yes, I can wait for someone I’m interested in as well and I don’t have to take whatever bones are thrown at me. But sadly this doesn’t keep my body from being treated like stranger’s property on a regular basis. Whether it’s someone heckling me on the streets for having thunder thighs or having a man stop me on the stairs to say he likes my ass, and by the way am I married? I get daily reminders that my body isn’t mine. That my body exists for the pleasure of other people.

from Holly at The Pervocracy, “Rescripting Sex”

People seem to imagine that talking about sex means talking in the dorkiest possible way, and I honestly don’t know why.  Personally, I’ve never seen the romance in no-talking sex.  I know it’s supposed to be all “swept off your feet by the heat of the moment” and shit, but in practice it always seems more clumsy and oafish, like trying to convey the concept of “Deleuze’s Plane of Immanence” in Pictionary.  With your feet.  There’s shit you can’t just convey, you know?  Even in long-standing relationships, it’s pretty goddamn hard to say “I want to gently pull your hair while we fuck and whisper sweet dirty things in your ear” with raised eyebrows and meaningful looks.

And then you end up taking a chance and just grabbing their hair when it seems like a look has been meaningful enough, and then they stop everything and go “what the hell are you doing?”, and boy, you think you’ve seen awkward.  Even the most stilted negotiation has nothing on the awkwardness of that crushing moment when you’re forced to admit you don’t have Sexy ESP after all.

from Margot Magowan at ReelGirl, “Hey Republicans, Choice is an Economic Issue”

Years ago, Rep. Barney Frank, D-Mass, said that pro-life politicians believe “life begins at conception and ends at birth,” meaning pro-life politicians are adamant about protecting the fetus but don’t care much about protecting the child once its born. I can’t think of a more obvious proof of this short-sightedness than the current Republican presidential candidates who pledge to get Americans out of financial crisis while simultaneously promising to deny women their reproductive rights.

Frank’s statement is also strongly supported by the work of Jean Schroedel, a professor and dean of the School of Politics and Economics at Claremont Graduate University, who examined the relationship between state abortion laws and spending on children. Her research revealed that the states that most severely limit abortion are the same ones that spend the least on foster care, parents who adopt special needs children, and poor women with dependent children. States with strict abortion laws consistently accorded lower political, economic and social status to women. For example, Louisiana had some of the toughest abortion laws and spent $602 per child. Hawaii had some of the most liberal laws and spent $4,648 per child.

Schroedel also discovered that states with restricted abortion laws consistently accorded lower political, economic and social status to women.

I’m psyched to have a guest post at Birthing Beautiful Ideas, perhaps my favorite blog of all time, as part of Kristen’s series of posts on the postpartum period. (Because she had her third baby!) My post’s title is “Helping from Afar: After the Baby’s Birth,” and … that’s what it’s about … so please scoot over there and read it.

from Nancy Carter and Christine Silver in The Washington Post, “For women in business, the squeaky wheel doesn’t get the grease”

Catalyst found that, among those who had moved on from their first post-MBA job, there was no significant difference in the proportion of women and men who asked for increased compensation or a higher position.

Yet the rewards were different.

Women who initiated such conversations and changed jobs post MBA experiencedslower compensation growth than the women who stayed put. For men, on the other hand, it paid off to change jobs and negotiate for higher salaries—they earned more than men who stayed did. And we saw that as both men’s and women’s careers progress, the gender gap in level and pay gets even wider.

from The Economist, “Thanks, Mum: Governments find reason to regulate the names of children”

Few decisions are more personal than the naming of offspring. Yet laws regulating the choice of both first names and surnames are common around the world. Denmark expects new parents to choose from a register of acceptable names; Portugal lists banned and approved ones. In Iceland a committee of language specialists must rule on any unusual name. German registrars prohibit the use of most nouns and place-names, and also frown upon any that do not clearly imply a gender: bad luck, Kim. Experts at a German-language society run a helpline offering advice to puzzled parents (at a cost).

from Rixa Freeze at Stand and Deliver, “Home School or Public School: What if You Don’t Like Either Option?” (lots of great comments, too)–a refreshingly open and conflicted take on figuring out what to do about education

from Dina Bakst in The New York Times, ”Pregnant, and Pushed out of a Job”

As a result, thousands of pregnant women are pushed out of jobs that they are perfectly capable of performing — either put on unpaid leave or simply fired — when they request an accommodation to help maintain a healthy pregnancy. Many are single mothers or a family’s primary breadwinner. They are disproportionately low-income women, often in physically demanding jobs with little flexibility.