Six weeks into the big experiment, and I’m surfacing for a brief update.
There is nothing I can say about new motherhood that has not been rehashed a million times, so on the topic of sleepless nights, lunching frantically on handfuls of peanuts while shoving wet clothes into the dryer and slobbing around the house in a milk-stained unbuttoned man-shirt rescued from the charity bag, I shall remain silent. The experiment did get off to a rough start — I will probably blog later about the postpartum neurological complications that nearly killed me. But now, grateful to be alive and compos mentis once again, I am finally getting into a rhythm.
Joshua, my beloved F1, is a big fan of daytime napping, so I’ve been able to resume my intellectual life quite quickly. As he snores in his swing chair, I work on various tasks: three papers that need attention, a bit of grant reviewing for a study section I’m on, co-editing Occam’s Corner, and of course tending to LabLit.com, running as always in the background as it has faithfully for nearly nine years. While I was in hospital the second time, hooked up to drips and a catheter, I was fielding editor requests from The Journal of the Royal Society Interface on my iPhone about our recently accepted manuscript – we actually ended up getting the cover photo, which I’m really proud about. (Not bad for my first senior-author paper).
Back home and recuperating, I heard that a paper at PLoS One was accepted pending minor revisions, so I’ve been penning the rebuttal letter between feeds, and last week I ventured up to the university with the pram to meet with its first author to discuss the final changes. And I’m getting together the first draft of a big paper from my last position, which is exciting enough to find a decent home fairly soon, if all goes well.
I find that academic pursuits sit well in the maternity leave environment. Thinking about science makes for a nice change from the sheer physicality of nonstop childcare – which is also a joy but has its challenges. Not going into the lab every day has brought back echoes of my Amsterdam unemployment phase, when I’d come up for air from constant novel writing to wander the streets and canals, adrift and slightly melancholy as only an unemployed person can be. Now, as I push the pram with its chunky tires through the woods in the weak autumn sunshine on our daily walk, my mind is strangely blank, and I marvel at how the hours stretch when a day’s structure is removed. It’s as if I’ve stepped out of time altogether. But my intellectual life is a reassuring connection to the rest of the world that makes this strange new existence much less scary.
Sometimes I wonder if I am supposed to feel guilty for maintaining my enjoyment — and even my need — of life apart from motherhood. A certain school of thought says this divided focus could be damaging to a child. Comparing the two is an impossible experiment, but I like to think that my son would prefer me to be happy and multidimensional. One day I’ll ask him what he really thinks.
Keep on keeping on. Last night I was helping Crox Minor (15) with her maths homework. Rearranging equations to isolate that blessed ‘x’ – it brought it all back. She was banging on at this most of the evening (I remember when I did the same) and I was often called in to adjudicate. I restricted myself to the (very long) advert breaks in ‘Downton Abbey’, though. There has to be some ‘me’ time.
Ha! I’m hoping Richard will help with the maths homework when the time comes – I don’t remember most of what I learned, aside from the simple maths you need in the lab. I imagine it’s a humbling experience being confronted by how little one does recall.
heh. I got my mum to help me…
But this is what the internets is for, right?
Congrats on F1, paper with cover, more paper and most of all – feeling good and healthy of course! It sure sounds like quite the story with the rough start, I’m very happy you got better. Enjoy the time now, I’ve been told that there is no time like it 🙂
Fantastic post on so many levels. Something I’ve been reflecting on over the last week is the way childcare forces science to the margins (it’s difficult to think about over the crying or demands that beloved older daughter only be dressed in clothes that have stripes) but I reckon you find yourself thinking differently. Not better, but certainly you explore a little more of your headspace.
Which might be a polite way of saying you get driven a little insane. But heck
Chall, thanks for your good wishes.
Bill, long time no see! I chuckled when I read your comment, because about an hour ago I was proofreading the final rebuttal letter while Joshua howled and writhed on my lap. It certain did focus my mind about doing things in the quickest and most efficient way possible.
(He’s got colic, but hopefully this phase will pass one day soon…)
Congrats on F1! Sorry to hear about your rocky start.
Under no circumstances should you feel guilty. Being a parent is hard enough without that. I took my daughter off to her first international conference when she was 3 months old – hubby brought her over to me whenever she needed feeding 🙂 He loved spending the time with her. She’s 7 now and seems to have emerged unscathed, and with a love of science. I think it’s important for them to understand you are more than just their mum. Think of it as providing a good, well-balanced role model 🙂
Siouxsie – thank you so much for this. There is, I must admit, a little niggling of guilt every time I have to open the computer. We aren’t talking very much time, and usually he’s asleep, but still. When Joshua is 3 months old I need to be in Switzerland on an academic matter and husband and son are coming along. There are awkward logistics (express milk during the coffee breaks? Will the hotel have a minibar fridge to store it in?) but I am sure it’s all surmountable.
It can’t be as hard as probing the secrets of the biological universe. 🙂
Actually, my money is not on colic; rather the curry we had Saturday night.
I think there is something to be said for taking F1s with you on business, as it were. I would imagine that people are much more relaxed about this than they once were, especially in the enlightened milieu in which we mix, wherein no-one would (or should!) bat a pseudopod about such normal eructations of the human condition as breastfeeding in public or appearing at a panel discussion in a dishevelled state with one’s clothes stained in nameless effluvia and exuding the odor of some ichor of biological origin.
These days I find quite a few F1s at academic conferences, whom I sometimes initially mistake for either policemen or editors from inferior journals. They get younger every year.
It’s good to know you’re seeing more of this, Henry (she types, left-handed, at 2AM)!
Wonderful post, Jenny. Frightening to hear about your emergency re-visit to the hospital… glad all is well now!
I have two words for you on the topic of colic and/or curry-induced tummy troubles: Gripe Water. I have no idea what it is, but it works wonders. Trust me on this.
It seems from what you’ve written here that maybe the maternity leave is actually benefiting you by freeing up chunks of time for writing and editing papers – something that traditionally gets swallowed up by the day-to-day of experiments, administration, and the million other “office life” details (note to self – GET THAT BLOODY MANUSCRIPT FINISHED!).
As for divided focus… we all have to parent how we can. There is no ideal situation, so in my view, any discussion about whether it’s “right” to be a 100%-effort parent, or work a bit from home, or use childcare, or a nanny, or take the kid to the office, or whatever, can’t possibly be rooted in reality (except, perhaps, for the idle rich who can pick and choose from the laundry list of available options). Without discounting research into early childhood nurture, I think the time-worn phrase “look at us, we turned out all right” probably applies here. Or it will do, once little Joshua is old enough to tell you.
P.S. As for math homework… junior Wintle #2 is currently bringing home “problems of the week”, long-form written problems that are easily solved with basic algebra, but tedious to solve how she is expected to do them (estimation, trial and error based on logical assumptions, etc.). Being 11, she doesn’t know any algebra yet, so I can confidently whip off the answer by solving for x and/or y, to check if she’s done it right.
On the other hand, I dread the day they start bringing calculus, or functions and relations, home, because I don’t remember any of it. Perhaps I’d best invest in a textbook…!
Hi Jenny :).
Just found your blog by happenstance when I noticed its name, “Mind The Gap”…
I’m really curious as to the meaning behind your choice of title. I’m currently working on a book which leans heavily on an idea with the same name.
The idea is based on some broad scientific concepts, which makes me even *more* curious to find out the meaning of it!
Take care and hope to hear from you soon.
James