Small thoughts on a big day

"Children born today will grow up in a world without DOMA."  -Edie Windsor, 6/26/13

It was upon hearing plaintiff Edie Windsor say these ten words, as I stood in a conference room filled with my exuberant, proud colleagues this morning, that I finally teared up.  The Defense of Marriage Act - DOMA - has been taken down.  I am feeling such a mix of emotions.  It has been a whirlwind of a week, politically - between the Supreme Court gutting the Voting Rights Act and blatantly disregarding the Indian Child Welfare Act, and the ever ongoing fight to defend reproductive rights in the state of Texas - and now the end of DOMA and Prop 8.  We are living in complicated times - simultaneously disappointing and inspiring.

People have been calling Edie a "shero" and comparing her to Rosa Parks, Harvey Milk, and Martin Luther King, Jr.  And to me, those are short-sighted (even offensive) comparisons. Edie is a privileged, white, wealthy woman with access to incredible resources who maybe just happened to be in the right place at the right time.  She was a palatable icon for the marriage equality movement and was strategically employed by a huge movement of people working toward marriage equality for many years.  Her case was based on the fact that she had to pay more than $350K in estate taxes.  She is a charming, thoughtful person, and a great activist; but she did not single-handedly take down DOMA.   

But these ten words moved me.  When I think about little Peanut, and the world in which she will now grow up, I have to say I'm incredibly grateful that she will not have to know DOMA, or have the experience in which her parents' marriage is sort-of-but-not-really recognized (well, at least on the federal level).

Today, I was so grateful for my colleagues and thousands of people who have been tirelessly working to secure equal rights and protections for queer folks who choose to get legally married.  I am feeling lucky to be alive at this moment in queer history.

Now more resources, energy and attention should be directed into the immense work for equality and justice that remains.  Radicals and leftists to whom I look up, and for whom I have a great deal of respect, have done right to remind me today that marriage is the wrong goal in movements for equality and justice, and that there is much, much work to be done on many different priorities that affect the most vulnerable among us. 

My New Normal, Part II

It has been a month of half-written posts - about the election, about watching Ricki Lake's film The Business of Being Born and beginning to think about my own process of giving birth, about the baby shower my family threw for us, about taking a healthy pregnancy class.  It has been a very busy month and I've grown more tired with each passing week.  Most nights I don't feel like turning the computer on to write.  But I miss the process of writing, and there is so much I want to document for myself and for our little one as the weeks fly rapidly by.  Tomorrow I will be 32 weeks pregnant.  8 months along.  Our little one will be here unbelievably soon.

One of the most valuable tidbits I've picked up during this past month came from the aforementioned healthy pregnancy class.  The nurse leading the class started off by saying, "it's good to have a plan.  And a plan B.  And then, you need a backup plan, a contingency plan, and then you'll realize that many aspects of parenthood are totally unpredictable and all your plans will go out the window."

It was a direct reference to the fact that as a result of superstorm Sandy, the hospital where we plan to give birth is actually closed.  It could be weeks, it could be months, before the hospital re-opens.  When I spoke to my OB about the situation in mid-November, she said they were temporarily delivering at a hospital uptown.  I laughed to myself, realizing it was the same hospital with which we had originally considered working.  I began to prepare emotionally.  I needed to be flexible enough to deliver at either hospital, and to perhaps not know at which one we would actually end up until a week or two prior to giving birth.

Today, I had another visit with my OB.  She let me know that they are now delivering at a different hospital, located downtown.  While it's certainly closer to where we live, I don't know anything about their approaches or policies.  The news threw me for a loop.   It now seems our original plan to work with a hospital which is known for its newborn rooming-in policy, breastfeeding support, and allowing partners to stay overnight have indeed "gone out the window."  Rumors say our hospital may not open until February, if not later.

Between this news and the fact that my office building also may not re-open before it is time for me to go on parental leave, it has been an interesting few weeks.  I'm someone who relies heavily on planning and predictability for my personal wellness.  Yet life seems intent on teaching me that there isn't much in life that's actually in my control.  And while it's not entirely comfortable, I'm actually doing ok with the uncertainty in my life right now.  I'm just grateful that despite all the logistical challenges, I still have a job I love and an OB I trust to help us bring our little one into the world as safely as possible.  Perhaps there are important reasons for these changes in our plans.

My New Normal

It has been a weird couple of weeks.  My office building was impacted by superstorm Sandy and we haven't yet been able to return to the space.  So we've been working from home and in temporary offices scattered around the city, trying to piece together some semblance of routine despite not really being prepared with the tools we need to work remotely.    

For me, working from home has mostly been an great blessing during this third trimester.  I've never worked from home before, and always thought I would be someone who couldn't freelance or telecommute for lack of discipline.  What I've learned about myself during the past two weeks is that, in fact, I am really good at establishing boundaries and routines for myself when I'm held accountable to a job.  It's not like being in school, sitting at the library and procrastinating on writing a paper.  I've actually been waking up at a regular time, eating and taking breaks on a schedule, starting work earlier and focusing when I'm at my desk, and even finding time to exercise and take care of household tasks in ways that are much harder to do when I have to commute two hours each day.  Not having to take the crowded train and deal with the stress of being pushed around and finding a seat has been simply wonderful.  The few days I have had to go into the city I've realized how much I'm enjoying the escape from the rat race while pregnant.  Being home has vastly improved my quality of life.

I do miss being in an office and seeing my colleagues, and generally, I think I'm someone who thrives on being a part of an office culture.  I look forward to being back in our building at some point.  But for now, my new normal has left me more well-rested than I've been in a long time, something I've appreciated as I've been getting more achy and tired with each passing week.  The ability to feel, massage, and talk with our super active little one throughout each day has been a great perk of working from the privacy of home.

Entering the Third Trimester

A week has passed since the "superstorm" ravaged many areas of our city.  A long week.  While we have continually been giving thanks for our many blessings (housing, warmth, food, water, health, safe family and friends), it has been a time of intense reflection and bearing witness to the suffering of our neighbors.  A week of feeling angry and frustrated in the face of enormous economic and racial inequity.  A week of feeling heartbroken and sick when hearing about the injustices and inefficiencies propagated by our local governments and multinational corporations.  A week of feeling mostly helpless and trying to find small inroads into communities and networks from which we are ultimately so disconnected.  While I have been inspired by the remarkable grassroots efforts to support the recovery of the most devastated neighborhoods, no donation made or number of cans collected or volunteer shift served seems like enough.  In many ways I felt paralyzed and wasn't able to figure out how or where to meaningfully contribute to or participate in physical relief efforts while pregnant and without access to transportation.  So I mostly turned my focus inwards.

With unplanned time away from our jobs, S and I used last week to work on some of the household preparations for our little one that we had been hoping to get done during our limited weekend time; building storage closets, cleaning, sorting out and getting rid of clutter, planning and making the decor for the nursery corner of our bedroom.  We were able to find the space and time to connect with each other; to rest and relax and heal from the exhaustion, burnout and routine of our typically busy day-to-day lives.  We hosted a little brunch at our home over the weekend and enjoyed quality time with our queer neighbors.

We were unexpectedly "nesting" during the very week we began the third trimester of our pregnancy (28 weeks and counting...!)  As a result, my stress and anxiety about getting everything done before the little one arrives has significantly subsided; I feel SO much better and more prepared to manage the rest of this pregnancy.  I feel well-rested.  I've been trying to trust that this week was a gift of time that was okay for me to receive.  And yet heart still aches for those from whom time was the very least of what was ripped away. 

Counting Blessings

Every few hours during the past two days, I have heard the police car and fire truck sirens in the distance.  Such is typically life in a big city.  Except in our neighborhood, it's not the norm.  We live far from the hustle and bustle of the skyscrapers and more densely populated areas.  We are surrounded by houses and trees.  On most nights it's fairly quiet, save the occasional crying baby, arguing couple, or tv blaring the news from a neighbor's apartment.

But the past two days have been far from typical.  During the past 48 hours, Hurricane Sandy devastated parts of our city and neighboring states.  Hearing the news of subways flooding and fires raging, hospitals being evacuated and shelters struggling to make ends meet, neighbors losing their homes and being killed by falling trees... it has all been a lot to take in.  It has been a reminder about how delicate life is.  We are surrounded by much sadness and grief.  And we are also surrounded by many, many blessings.    

I am so grateful that the damage from this event wasn't more severe or widespread.  That plans were made to keep people as safe as possible.  I am grateful that people heeded the warnings.  That folks are reaching out to their communities and finding ways to connect and help.  That generosity abounds.  That my family, friends and loved ones are okay.  That S and I, our kitties and our little one, had - and continue to have - a warm place to sleep, access to food and clean water, and the resources to stay safe and well.

The sirens continue to wail tonight.  I'm sending a little prayer out into the universe that we all find the strength and resources we need to recover.  That those who are most vulnerable - the poor, the queers, the elderly, the sick, the disabled, the immigrants - are cared for and treated with the respect they deserve as we all work to heal during this difficult time.