narrating kayoz

By the time I'm forty...

Last week my mum reminded me that I don't have to do everything in life in the next few years. Or specifically that I don't have to work myself into a professional writing gig and out of the public service right now. Actually I think what she may have been thinking was that I could put off the hard work coming up in my Masters next year. This time, when my kids are small, is only short and maybe I should just focus on them for the time being, give the other stuff a rest for a few years*.

Of course, that's easier said than done - as I pointed out, I can't actually defer the masters any more, and the next two years, while I'm off work, is really the only chance I have to finish it. I can't go back to work *and* look after two small children *and* do 2/3 of a full time load of a post graduate work (and the part of the course I will be doing from mid 2007-mid 2008 can't be done as less than 2/3 of a full time load). Some people might be able to do it, but not me. I think I have that much self-knowledge.

So even if I could defer, I simply can't do it later on - not unless I have another baby and get more maternity leave, which would sort of defeat the purpose of putting it off.

And, if I don't use the work I am doing for this masters to push me into more writing - if I don't keep putting it into practice - then the chances of it actually moving me in the direction of quitting my day job are slim. I need to keep building on the learnings (to use some public service speak), if they are to be any use.

But. It is true that this intense time with my children will not come again. So the really important thing for me to remember, and which I honestly do forget sometimes, is that if I don't have a novel written (a publishable one) by the time I'm forty - well, so what? I have this arbitrary time in my hear (forty) when aparently everything must be done by. I'm guessing it will be easier to let go of that deadline as I approach it (I let go of the 35 deadline, which meant no Vogel Prize, pretty easily), but it might help my stress levels over the next few years if I could let go of it now. Maybe.

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*NB I may be misquoting my mother, but for the purposes of this post, it doesn't matter.

Congenital CMV (Cytomegalovirus)

We're off for another visit to the doctor this week, because a friend who was pregnant the same time as me as just found out her baby (who is now about 15 weeks old) has congenital CMV (Cytomegalovirus). And since I was looking after her children, and she was looking after mine - so they spent a lot of time together sharing germs - if she was had CMV during pregnancy then I was almost certainly exposed. It generally has no symptoms in healthy people.

So do you all even know what that is? Because I didn't. You don't really get told about it, like you do other pregnancy risks. But as it turns out it is the most common congenital infection that is passed from mother to unborn baby, and is a leading cause of disabilities. Over time it can lead to deafness, vision impairment, brain damage, organ failure (although *usually* not all these things). Needless to say, I am a little worried, although she has no sign of it at the moment (common newborn symptoms are small head size , small body size, little red spots under the skin, enlarged liver, enlarged spleen, and jaundice). It was picked up in O. because of an enlarged spleen.

The stats are that 40% of babies born to mothers who experience a primary infection during the first two trimesters of pregnancy will have congenital CMV. Ten percent of those will be born with some symptoms, and 90% of those will go on to have some form of disability (which my friend tells me show up some time in the first 5 years). Another 10-15% of those born infected will have disabilities which show up later - her pediatrician said mostly CMV is not picked up at birth and is not picked up till something is obviously wrong at around three. Which is an issue not in that they can do anything about it by earlier intervention, but that the earlier hearing loss etc is picked up the more you can adjust for it.

On the other hand, according to this site 55-85% of pregnant American women have already had it (and I'd guess Australia would be similar), and while you can have a recurrence, the risk to the baby is then much, much lower (both the chance of infection and the likely results from such an infection). And given that I am an older mother (for once it could be an advantage!) and have had years of bad hygiene habits (sharing food and such) hopefully I would already have had it.

But now that I know about it I am appalled that we don't hear about it. Why are pregnant women not tested as a matter of course with the standard blood test which tests for rubella etc? Then if you *don't* have the antibodies you could avoid sharing bodily fluids with your older child (don't shared food, drinks, or kiss on the lips or cheek, the site suggests). Apparently a toddler/preschooler who catches it (again, with no symptoms or problems) can shed the virus over a long period of time, and O. will probably be shedding it for *years*.

If Mikaela does turn out to have it I am going to be pretty angry about this lack of information.

The bittersweet aging of children

Having another baby with reflux is proving challenging (again), but somehow easier than it was last time, despite having a four year old to care for as well. I think Mikaela does still sleep better than Liam did at the same age, although maybe not so much better now. We've pretty much given up trying to put her down to sleep during the day, although most nights she does still sleep in the bassinette for anything from one to six hours (usually over two shifts - she's never done more than about four hours in the bassinette in one go, and rarely makes three now*).

I think the main reason that it's easier though, is perspective. When I remind myself that it will only be this way for a small period of time (whether it's three months or 18 or 24), it means something now. Because Liam sleeps through the night (often) and puts himself to sleep for both day and night sleeps. I just have to look at him and think, one day, Mikaela will be four. And it's going to seem incredible, when the time comes, that four years could have gone passed already.

Days like yesterday, when I had her in the sling all day and still she was unsettled, days when I spend hours and hours walking with a literal bounce in my step despite the exhaustion (my thighs and ankles are getting a real workout), and take care of Liam, and even get some housework done; those days they still leave me exhausted at the end, wondering how I will get through another night of only four or five hours of good sleep (in fact three and half, as it turned out), let alone six days a week of caring for the two of them on my own once Chris gets his Rolfing practice up to full strength.** But, looking at Liam, it does make it easier to handle the exhaustion. At least sometimes.

[Aside: We are starting to put away the newborn clothes, since most of them only just fit now over disposables, and wouldn't have a hope of fitting over cloth nappies. She'll be eight weeks old on Saturday, so that point when she puts herself to bed is eight weeks closer than it was when she was born. But boy it's bitter sweet.]

*This is probably at least partly because I started feeding only on one side at a time, on the basis that smaller feeds more often can be helpful for reflux - it definitely made a big difference, but it does mean feeding more often. Including at night. On the other hand fewer nights include a two hour screaming stint in the middle, so that's a bonus.

**Yes, I do realise this sentence is almost long enough to be worthy of Daniel Defoe. So sue me.

Four year age gap

Yesterday, after Liam's swimming lesson, I watched a (maybe) three-year-old girl interacting with her (maybe) seven-year-old brother. She was standing at the edge of the baby pool, just in the water, and he was playing in the water making her laugh and trying to tempt her to come in. Later she had a lesson and still didn't want to get in. Her Dad got in the water with her, but she got out and ran away, so her big brother went and picked her up and brought her back and climbed in with her.

She still didn't want to go in, but it was lovely to watch him looking after her, and earlier in the little pool to watch her laughing and enjoying his attention.

That could be Liam and Mikaela in 3 years time.