All this talk about the new Republican Vice Presidential nominee, Sarah Palin, had me thinking about this today.
I REALLY hate the term, "Advanced Maternal Age."! It's as if we're saying that women have an expiration date of 35 (or younger!) if they're to be able to have a child. That is just nonsense to me! We live in a society where people are living longer and delaying marriage and childbirth. As a result, we see women- like a good friend of mine- who are having their first children at the age of 43. Yeah, I know all about diminished ovarian reserve and the higher incidences of chromosomal abnormalities such as Down's Syndrome, but still-- we are hearing more and more often about women extending childbirth years well into their fifties. Heck, a couple have even been upwards of 70! (Although, that is taking it waaaay too far, in my opinion).
No, I'm not looking at trying for just one more. There will be no more for us, at least not of the biological variety! I have several friends who are or will soon be cycling (two are doing IVF and one is doing a medicated IUI right now). Plus, one friend is talking about doing another cycle within the year to add a sibling, and one of my partner teachers has suffered many losses and is looking at having a child. Each of the people I'm thinking of are considered advanced maternal age in medical terms, although to know them would suggest no such thing.
Traditionally, a woman is labeled AMA when she becomes pregnant at the age of 35 or older. However, when I (finally!) became pregnant with my twins, I was sent to see a maternal-fetal medicine specialist, or perinatologist, because I was considered high risk for several reasons. I do suffer from hypertension and knew that would be an issue in addition to my carrying multiples, but the doctor put AMA on my chart as well.
Oh, hell no! Pump the brakes!
Me (oh, so sweetly): Excuse me, Doctor, but you put 'AMA ' on my chart, but I am only 33. When I have the babies I will only be 34.
Doctor: Yes, that's true for a singleton, but with multiples, we consider people AMA at the age of 33.
Well, I'll be damned! Women are in the news often these days for having babies at 58, 62, and even 70. So, how did I get to be considered "Advanced Maternal Age" at 33? They offered me an amniocentesis and everything! I declined that, though, because the results had no bearing whatsoever on whether or no we would keep the babies, and the pregnancy proceeded pretty well. It's just that that label stuck in my craw the entire time. Humph! Advanced maternal age my eye! Some days I'm a bigger kid than my (now) toddlers!
Of course, I usually have to take a long soak in a hot bath of lavender-scented epsom salts after all that youthful exuberance, but still...
Sunday, August 31, 2008
It's High School Football Time!
I went to Ryan's football game on Friday night. Greg decided to stay home with the girls because he was really exhausted from his day and wasn't feeling too well. I was tired, too, but one of us has to go to support Ryan's team, so it was me. To my surprise, my mom also wanted to go!
The atmosphere was great! Mama and I excitedly made our way through the crush of bodies and the sea of chatter all around. All traces of the fatigue I felt on the way there melted away and I was ready to be loud, rowdy, and proud! (Okay, not too rowdy 'cause I don't really 'get down like that', but you get the picture). It was almost time for the teams to burst onto the field when they showed up! Think of the tightest, shortest outfits you can and you'll begin to get an idea of what some of the hot mamas at the high school wore. All I could see was BANG! POW! and BOOM! I really wondered if their mothers saw them before they left the house. They could not possibly have allowed this. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, the unthinkable happened-- the group of young "ladies" opened their mouths to speak.
In the words of Florida Evans, "Damn, damn, DAMN!"
I saw flashes of gold teeth (who still does that?), and heard cussing and ebonics (and not all of them were Black) until I felt my ears would bleed. A couple of the girls looked behind them, saw my teacher badge, and shushed the others. Surprisingly, they looked back and one even apologized. I was shocked and then embarrassed about pre-judging them by their appearance. After all, they seemed to have some redeeming qualities. In the end, I decided that they were probably good kids who either acted like that to fit in, or they'd learned these patterns of behavior from their parents. I wanted to grab them up, one by one, and hug those babies and tell them I'd be glad to mentor them or pair them up with mentors who will show them the good parts of life, but then...
But then...
the boys burst onto the field! Hell, I'm a mama and my baby was on the field. I'd have to think of ways to help those girls later. Yep, it's high school football time, Folks! I'm a mama with a son who plays on his varsity team. He's really good, too.
But I am also a teacher... and a woman... and a part of this community that we often refer to as the village it takes to raise a child. I think of those young ladies, and my heart hurts; and I am so ashamed because I dismissed them from my mind until just this moment...
The atmosphere was great! Mama and I excitedly made our way through the crush of bodies and the sea of chatter all around. All traces of the fatigue I felt on the way there melted away and I was ready to be loud, rowdy, and proud! (Okay, not too rowdy 'cause I don't really 'get down like that', but you get the picture). It was almost time for the teams to burst onto the field when they showed up! Think of the tightest, shortest outfits you can and you'll begin to get an idea of what some of the hot mamas at the high school wore. All I could see was BANG! POW! and BOOM! I really wondered if their mothers saw them before they left the house. They could not possibly have allowed this. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, the unthinkable happened-- the group of young "ladies" opened their mouths to speak.
In the words of Florida Evans, "Damn, damn, DAMN!"
I saw flashes of gold teeth (who still does that?), and heard cussing and ebonics (and not all of them were Black) until I felt my ears would bleed. A couple of the girls looked behind them, saw my teacher badge, and shushed the others. Surprisingly, they looked back and one even apologized. I was shocked and then embarrassed about pre-judging them by their appearance. After all, they seemed to have some redeeming qualities. In the end, I decided that they were probably good kids who either acted like that to fit in, or they'd learned these patterns of behavior from their parents. I wanted to grab them up, one by one, and hug those babies and tell them I'd be glad to mentor them or pair them up with mentors who will show them the good parts of life, but then...
But then...
the boys burst onto the field! Hell, I'm a mama and my baby was on the field. I'd have to think of ways to help those girls later. Yep, it's high school football time, Folks! I'm a mama with a son who plays on his varsity team. He's really good, too.
But I am also a teacher... and a woman... and a part of this community that we often refer to as the village it takes to raise a child. I think of those young ladies, and my heart hurts; and I am so ashamed because I dismissed them from my mind until just this moment...
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Reminiscent
I received an email yesterday. Normally, I would delete a forward without reading it, but this one caught my attention and I read it. In it was a simple, yet profound lesson: do not spend a great deal of time wondering about people from your past and pondering what might have been. There is a reason those people didn't make it to your present.
Now, I have been fortunate enough to have loved and been loved very deeply in my lifetime. I think my first real love was a guy I dated while living in California. His name was David. He taught me how I was supposed to be treated by a man and set the bar for any coming after him very high. I am eternally grateful to him for that because it kept me from having to kiss a lot of extra frogs in search of my prince charming! I have thought of David over the years and wondered how his life turned out. I'm sure it's a good one because he was a good guy, but I don't dwell on it because I recognize that people come into our lives but for a season. Once the intended lesson is learned, we move on to the next life's lesson.
Fast forward to today. In a couple of weeks, my husband, Gregory, and I will celebrate our 10 year anniversary! I'll be honest and tell you that I was not so sure about years 2-3! But GOD said differently and here we are. I cannot imagine being anywhere else. You see, our love has moved away from the eros kind of love, although the physical is important and has a place. We also have the phileo, or good friend kind of love, because we genuinely like each other (most days!) Above that, though, we daily find a renewed sense of agape love that is unconditional, tried, true, and in spite of, rather than because of.
Baby-- Thanks for loving me "in spite of" so many things...
Now, I have been fortunate enough to have loved and been loved very deeply in my lifetime. I think my first real love was a guy I dated while living in California. His name was David. He taught me how I was supposed to be treated by a man and set the bar for any coming after him very high. I am eternally grateful to him for that because it kept me from having to kiss a lot of extra frogs in search of my prince charming! I have thought of David over the years and wondered how his life turned out. I'm sure it's a good one because he was a good guy, but I don't dwell on it because I recognize that people come into our lives but for a season. Once the intended lesson is learned, we move on to the next life's lesson.
Fast forward to today. In a couple of weeks, my husband, Gregory, and I will celebrate our 10 year anniversary! I'll be honest and tell you that I was not so sure about years 2-3! But GOD said differently and here we are. I cannot imagine being anywhere else. You see, our love has moved away from the eros kind of love, although the physical is important and has a place. We also have the phileo, or good friend kind of love, because we genuinely like each other (most days!) Above that, though, we daily find a renewed sense of agape love that is unconditional, tried, true, and in spite of, rather than because of.
Baby-- Thanks for loving me "in spite of" so many things...
I'm baaaack!
It has been a month since I posted something. Actually, I had several items prepared in draft form, but I got so busy preparing for the new school year that I forgot to post them. They're old news now, so I'm starting over today.
It's funny because I get like this during the summer. Almost tunnel vision to where I see nothing but themes and laminate and school ideas. I'm a little obsessive about it, but once I'm done I'm ready for the year.
I'll keep you posted!
It's funny because I get like this during the summer. Almost tunnel vision to where I see nothing but themes and laminate and school ideas. I'm a little obsessive about it, but once I'm done I'm ready for the year.
I'll keep you posted!
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