I was talking to a co-worker today when another co-worker walked up and said something to him. He asked if she had a sore throat as her voice sounded scratchy. She answered, “Yes, I think I am coming down with something.”

And at that moment I thought, “Hmmm. My breast milk would probably knock that right out. I should offer her some.” This was quite thoughtful in my mind. Breast milk is the veritable elixir of life. Baby’s tear duct is blocked? Drop a bit of breast milk in it. Sore or cracked nipples or skin? Rub a little breast milk on it. Bug bites? Ear infections? Squirt a bit of breast milk on them. It heals what ails ya!

Nonetheless, my internal conversation continued and I thought, “Good God, woman, are you mad? You can’t offer your breast milk to a co-worker. If you do, she’ll look at you weirdly and never make eye contact with you again. She’ll talk about you behind your back and not even accept a cup of coffee from you lest it be tainted. Rumors will spread and the whole office will ostracize you. You’ll need to find another job. In another city.” And I walked away in a fog missing the rest of what was said between my two co-workers.

Am I the only breastfeeding mother this has ever happened to?

Years ago, I gave my husband a paperweight that said, “What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?” This was when he was still dissatisfied with work and trying to find his soul. He has since found it.

When I told a friend I was pregnant a year ago, she reminded me of this paperweight–that I had once answered it with, “I’d be a mom.” Being a mom was the scariest thought for me for so very long. I was worried I wouldn’t be maternal enough; that I’d be too tired all the time; that I’d put my career above my child; that we’d not have enough money to afford the “good things in life” and have a child, too. My list was endless.

But the yearning to want to be a mom grew within me. And then I was told it wouldn’t happen, which, of course, finally made me see how much I wanted it. And then I got pregnant. And a whole new set of worries kicked in: I worried about my pregnancy; about how things would work out with my job; about whether my relationship with my husband would suffer; about daycare; about having an only child. My new list was endless.

And then I had Sun. And the weirdest thing in the world happened. I stopped worrying. Really. Stopped. Yeah, sure. I worry about vaccinations and Sun’s hemangioma. But that’s normal. I find that I now worry far less about work and finances and the future, “the unknown,” and my ability at being a good mother now that I am a mother than I ever did thinking about being a mother.

Having Sun has so refocused my attention! It is amazing how so very little matters when she is in my presence. I’m all Bob Marley with her: “We’ll be together with a roof right over our heads. We’ll share the same room while Ja provides the bread.” Now that I have her in my life, I have this deep sense that the rest of things will fall into place just as they should. And I have confidence that I am a very good mother indeed.

Had I known having a child, the single thing I have worried most about in my life, was going to give me the gift of peace . . . well, let’s just say I am glad I didn’t let my worries stifle me.

So what’s that thing in your life that if you knew you could not fail at, you would do it? Or, like me, what was your biggest fear that you overcame and are the better for? Post about it, link back to me and add your permalink (for the post not your general website) to my Mr. Linky and then make the rounds and visit the listed posts.  And be sure to check back here often to see posts that were added since your last visit! Read! Comment!

Last night, we headed out for the annual Oktoberfest at the Deutschen Haus. I was in quite the foul mood on Thursday until I read the newspaper and was reminded of the fest. It is impossible for me to stay mad, I learned, with the chicken dance music playing in my head. I munched on my obligatory plate of German food (bratwurst, sauerkraut, stuffed cabbage roll, German mashed potatoes and pumpernickel bread with mustard):

and I drank the obligatory German beer (Warsteiner):

and it was all yum-tacular! Throw in some German desserts, the chicken dance and German music in the biergarten and color yourself one good time. See you next year, old friend.

Then this morning, I got up early and went to Yoga then came home and joined CS and Sun. We got the last of the fleurs (and discovered two more were stolen–one in Margaritaville, whose picture we had not taken yet, and the Saint’s one outside of Whitney National Bank on St. Charles–major bummer).

Then we ate lunch at La Peniche in the Faubourg Marigny. Love this place! Great bleu cheese burger and well needed bloody mary (why well needed? Because finding this place always drives me a bit batty. But it never fails to satisfy). We overheard an obvious tourist ask the waitress, “What exactly do you mean by ‘do I want my po-boy dressed?’” Tee hee.

Then off to something new: The Freret Market. There was food and live music and art. And there was also iced coffees and flea-market-type vendors and sellers of yarns and hand-knitted items! And adorable embroidered and tie-dyed onesies. We had a great time and are certain to be back (they will be there the first Saturday of every month).

1. There’s No TV in the Office.  Dammit if I have the willpower to not turn the dang thing on.  And then watch it.  Not good for getting work done.  Plus, working in an office makes watching “The Office” a lot funnier.
2. Sun isn’t in the Office.  Even during naptime, I find it very difficult to focus on work with the baby in the house.  And dirty dishes in the sink. 
3. If I Meet with Clients, I Much Prefer to Do It in My Office.  Without the baby.
4. I Need My Secretary!!!  I hate paginating documents.
5. I Need the Social Aspect the Office Provides.  I like doing lunch.  Plus, where else would I get my girl scout cookies and seasonal wrapping paper if not from staffers selling for their kids?  You don’t get those offers at my house.

I have been asked how it is that I managed to talk my employer into letting me work three days a week and how my return to work is actually going.

First let me say that I didn’t really talk my employer into it. When I told them I was pregnant, I was very nervous–they probably thought I was about to give notice that I was quitting. It seems it was more of an issue to me than to them.

I was concerned about taking three months for maternity leave as well as reducing my time in the office upon my return. It was stated to me that as attorneys we have the benefit of being able to work anywhere. So for all they were concerned, I could work from home anytime. That is what they said. And I appreciated the words. But I had my doubts.

I feared that “out of sight, out of mind” would occur and if I was not in the office, I would not be contacted at home by my fellow attorneys with assignments they may have for me–that they’d opt to give it to the guy in the office next to me since he would be there. But in my office, no such guy-next-door exists. What I offer the company is a bit unique. I am certainly replaceable. But I had hope that they’d rather work with me (even if I was home or in every other day than train a newbie or learn to work with someone else). Only time would show me that my concerns were unfounded. Attorneys (and clients) SO know how to call me at home if they need my help! Seems silly now that I even worried about that.

To prepare (them and me), I made sure all of my files were up to date and organized so that anyone could pick them up and work them. I did my best to get my files in a position that three months of down time would not matter. And I reminded my office often of how long I was taking and what my schedule would be upon my return. Thus, even having Sun five weeks early, my desk was ready. I was prepared at that point that any day I could leave the office and not be back the next day.

Then I delegated like a mad-woman while on leave. During my maternity leave, I did come into the office about six times total, but checked my voice-mail and e-mail everyday; I did not post an “I’m on leave; call someone else” message on either, and I maintained the management of my files and my clients.

The bottom line, and something I learned ten years ago, is that I am an attorney all the time. There is really no such thing as “maternity leave.” In the past, I have taken calls from clients in the evenings and on weekends; I dealt with clients’ calls outside my dying grandmother’s hospital room and on the airplane on the way to my wedding. You don’t just walk away and say, “oh, someone else can handle my files today.” I am not necessarily proud of or happy about this; it is just a fact of being an attorney. However, I was very lucky that I had very accommodating co-workers during my leave that jumped in and handled the actual work at hand (my clients were very patient and cooperative, too). But if I was needed, I heeded the call. If to do nothing more than get the right attorney with the right client.

And now that I am back working, it’s the same message: I am an attorney all the time. I work three days a week in the office. I do not say that I work part time. Because that isn’t exactly true. Every day, I respond to calls and e-mail (and do more on days when I am home when it is required). But I do my best to schedule meetings and get documents out on the days I am in the office and have the aid of my secretary. Do I work less when I am home with Sun? Absolutely. But I also work harder (and a bit longer) now when I am in the office. I strive to see that my turn-around time is the same whether I am in the office five days a week or only three.

And that is the beauty of my career choice–it affords me a lot of flexibility. And I work for a company that gets that my asset is my mind and I can operate that asset anywhere. In the end, it is my choice to come to the office (more on why I don’t telecommute exclusively, Bayou Belle, soon). And it is my choice to stay home twice a week (and CS’s choice to stay home two other days a week) and keep Sun out of daycare. Because, like being an attorney, I am a mother all the time.

When Sun was born, being early and small, they whisked her away from me before I could hold her. But before leaving the Delivery Room, my husband got a good look at her and held her. As the doctor was completing my caesarian section, and I was doing all I could not to panic about having major surgery while being wide awake, I focused all my attention on my daughter. As CS gazed at her for the first time, I heard him ask the nurse, “What’s that on her leg?” WHAT? I thought. What’s WHAT on her leg? Ohmygod! What’s wrong with her??? The nurse very calmly responded, “Oh, that’s just a birthmark.” I could breathe again.

Then the nurse handed Sun to my husband and he brought her to me to see. Then Sun was removed for testing for hours. We waited and waited to see her. When they finally wheeled her in and put her in my arms, the first thing I did was unwrap her and look at her leg. I wanted to be damned sure no one swapped babies on me. And maybe there was another one that looked as cute as her (although that is hard to imagine!), it would be rare for that baby to also have Sun’s unique birthmark. Her mark was there–dark red, almost purple, like a bruise, and smooth on her skin. I thought it’d clear up in a few days. Here’s what it looked like then:

It did not clear up. Instead, it turned from a deep red to a bright red and the skin raised and got bumpy. It is large and takes up a good bit of her left shin. It is technically called a hemangioma and is more commonly referred to as a strawberry mark due to its bright, angry red color and the raised texture of the skin. We were told that best case scenario it would grow and then slowly (over a period of years) disappear.

We were told to “keep an eye on it.” And we did keep an eye on it. It started to get scabby. Did this mean it was starting to “involute” or heal or did it indicate a sign of growth? The internet suggested either could be the case. So two weeks ago we took her to a pediatric dermatologist. The doctor informed us that the scabbing was a sign of growth, aggressive growth. Such scabbing could lead to serious scarring. In an attempt to prevent that, we took the doctor’s advice and allowed her to begin laser treatment and oral steroid treatment. Today was her second laser treatment. The idea is to first stunt the growth of the mark and to rush it into the involution phase. If thereafter it is not reducing in size and color, a second treatment of lasers would be used to diminish its appearance. Here’s (two overexposed pictures, sorry) what it looks like now:

I have a lot of mixed feelings on this whole thing. On the one hand, it is just a birthmark that is not expected to hinder her ability to crawl or walk. It is superficial and not likely to cause permanent injury. Well, other than that potential permanent scarring. In a world were appearances are everything, do I want to encourage that behavior by medically eliminating her negative features? It isn’t like she has a club foot or bow legs. It’s a mark on her skin. A mark that tells me and the world that she is uniquely herself. And do I want to expose her to laser treatment and steroids? No, I do not.

But on the other hand, it is a very large mark and the scabbing is not at all attractive. And there is that very real chance of serious scarring. CS and I have both been asked many times already by perfect strangers, “What’s THAT on her leg?” “Was she burned?” I want to answer these insensitive people, “That is from me smoking (and/or drinking) while pregnant.” But I always cower and find myself defensive and giving the person a crash course on hemangiomas. We cover her leg now in public as much as possible just to keep idiots from asking us dumb questions or giving us weird looks. It is nice that we do get an occasional person who will say, “Oh, look at her birthmark” in a matter-of-fact tone. But that is the exception.

And as bad as CS and I feel when asked these questions, how bad will Sun feel when teased by other children? Kids can be cruel. And as a parent, we all want to shelter our children from needless hardship.

So for us, as bad as I feel about taking action on a mark on Sun’s skin that is not likely to ever cause her a physical problem (well, other than that risk of scarring or not dissipating entirely on its own), the decision has been made and we have taken action (and to me, lasers and steroids are moderately aggressive) because we feel it is in her best interest. We are told that she is likely to have some residual mark on her leg at the end of treatment–the texture of the skin is likely to be wrinkly. But it still saddens me that those features that are unique in us are the ones we sometimes take action to eradicate.