Second Thoughts

I have so many thoughts that swirl around in my head lately. The vision of a two-kid family that had always been my ideal. The frustration and confusion of infertility before we got help. The pain and suffering of our family when I struggled with PPD. The insidious little thoughts that pop up when I'm having a bad parenting day.

What if it wasn't just PPD? Look at how I struggle still with parenting, with keeping my cool instead of raging against the inconsequential little battles of life with a small child. What if I'm depressed again, or maybe it never left? What if I'm really just a horrible, terrible person who isn't meant to be a mother?

Some people say it's the stress of school while working full time and parenting a little one. That it will go away with time, that toddlers and preschoolers are hardest because they're learning to push buttons. That she'll be less exhausting when she has the outlet of school and other people to be around with her boundless energy. I've heard too that sometimes our kids are too similar to us, and we see the worst part of ourselves reflecting back like an accusation of our faults.

I think about all the struggling and I can't possibly imagine how I could handle adding PPD and all the changes that come with another baby on top of that. And really, when it comes down to it, I don't feel the same pangs of longing when I see a baby. I don't have much nostalgia for having an infant, perhaps because I was too miserable to enjoy the small moments.

And yet, when I take a moment to reflect on that, I get angry. Resentful. Ashamed. And sad. It doesn't seem fair to have struggled to get pregnant and then to struggle with the reality of having that baby in my life. To feel that every cry and tantrum and whine is an indictment of my inability to care for her. To feel guilty for needing space and solitude so desperately. To be jealous of mothers who love their children so effortlessly that the tough moments flow over them like water.

A small part of my heart wishes for another baby so I could have another chance, to know that instant bonding and love without struggle. But I fear I'm too broken, that we'd be doomed to a repeat with even more on our plate this time around.

My PCOS symptoms have been so unpredictable since Brianna was born. I've gone through medication after medication, hoping to find the right fit that won't leave me with mood swings, acne, more facial hair, and low libido. I'm awaiting results on insulin testing to see if that's part of why nothing works very long. It's typical with PCOS, but I've never had issues with insulin or blood sugar over the last 15 years, so I doubt that's what's going on. If everything comes back normal, I'm planning to get an IUD and hope the consistent hormone levels help.

It's hard coming to terms with this being the new reality for me. Even as a teenager, I managed my PCOS from the perspective of wanting to have two kids eventually. The idea that I'll have to live with these symptoms as is until menopause hits in twenty years never really occurred to me. For some reason, the decision to have another child (or not) feels like a major event in my life, a dividing line for my experiences, and I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to get this one right so I don't look back with regret.

Wait, Why Did I Decide This Was A Good Idea?

Business school. Yeah. We have covered lots of great stuff. Some of it has reinforced things I learned through trial and (lots of) error on the job, some of it has given me new perspective on every day occurrences. And sometimes, I've even been able to apply stuff on the job, like nifty tricks in Excel and understanding how to break bad news and make it seem less sucky (yes, that's a technical term).

And then there are the classes that I doubt I'll ever apply. Pricing models? Bond valuations? Not so much my line of work.

But marketing is a particularly weird place for me. I find myself at odds with capitalism sometimes (wait, what? why did I decide to do business school again?), and that has become quite evident in marketing. It's hard to be a quasi-socialist feminist who questions the status quo when your class is designed around getting people to believe they need your product or message. Hey ladies, you need to be beautiful according to these strictly heterosexist, white-centric, fat-phobic ideals if you're going to get that man of your dreams so you can have kids and then either be horribly selfish for staying at home and not using that degree or horribly selfish leaving your kids so you can be in the workforce. Because your dreams obviously involve meeting a man, getting married, having kids, and then feeling guilty for every other choice you make as an adult.

Manipulation - it's what's for dinner.

Being a parent just reinforces how at odds I am with marketing and the way vulnerabilities are targeted. If you think your kids aren't being encouraged to want the most sugar-laden crap snacks whenever they watch Saturday morning cartoons, you are mistaken. I try my best to emphasize needs versus wants with Brianna, but there's only so much that sticks when we're out and about for regular grocery shopping and the like. We haven't discussed the ethics of marketing yet (that's the last week of this section), but I just know that will be the day I'll be asked to wrap it up so we can move on to other topics and I will go home and call my sister to vent about the oppression inherent in the system being perpetuated by watery tarts with swords and then quote some more Monty Python and Eddie Izzard. (Like you do.) (Sorry, I couldn't help it.) (If you are not confused by these random quotes, we need to have drinks together because you are AWESOME.) (Last parenthetical, I swear.) (Just kidding, there will probably be more.)

The other thing that bothers me about advertising is the perpetual creation and reinforcement of stereotypes. The information about me based on my web browsing and demographics say that yes, I am a mom, a working professional, interested in running. And I get inundated with so many messages that run utterly counter to my actual thoughts. The fact that I am a mom does not mean I stay at home. The fact that I'm in a career (versus a no-growth job) does not mean I am willing to spend my money on luxury items. The fact that I run does not mean I am interested in weight loss gimmicks or going hardcore with CrossFit. If you're going to insist on using a box to market to me, at least bother to use the right box.

Consumerism is pretty much the opposite of my philosophy in life. It's not to say I'm a minimalist or a martyr, but if I'm going to spend my money on something, I want to be DAMN sure it fits my needs and that I consider what all my needs are. Taking that moment to evaluate my needs means I don't do a lot of impulse shopping. Feeling manipulated, stereotyped, and exploited by an advertising campaign is just more likely to push me away.

So yeah. This is not my favorite section of business school thus far. But one of the two classes will be more relevant next time, and after that I get electives. So far, I'm one of three moms (and several dads of varying parenting involvement), and it hasn't been an issue. Andy has been amazing about giving me enough time to get all my stuff done and communicating with me about what help he needs so I can spend my family time well. It's starting to take its toll on Brianna, though. She got used to having me home more the last couple months because the classes were less involved and I was basically free over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. She asks me to stay home more, and looks so disappointed when I leave the house for a study group. The days I have class are pretty seamless for her, since I don't come home until class is over, but then she clings a bit more when she sees me again the next morning. I can't say I blame her. Sometimes when I get home from class, I check in on her before going to bed so I can tuck the blankets around her and kiss her cheek. I don't think she remembers it when she wakes up, but it's nice to have that moment.