Maternity Leave

As I mentioned in a previous post, my husband and I are thinking of having a second child.  It’s been coming up in conversation between us more and more lately, and we’ve both caught ourselves aww-ing over stranger’s babies a lot.  We even have an extra bedroom in our home that we refer to as the nursery or the “baby’s room” in anticipation of baby #2.  For various personal and professional reasons we aren’t planning to get pregnant until early 2017, but clearly we are thinking about it a lot.

On Friday I was discussing this a bit with a colleague and friend, who is also currently the only other female professor in my department.  I realized that since she doesn’t have kids, there was a good chance this department has never had a faculty member be pregnant and take maternity leave.  There have been other female faculty members in the past, but none was here more than a few years.  So I asked and yup, if I become pregnant it will be a department first.  There have been female grad students who had babies, but not faculty.

I don’t expect any issues surrounding this however.  The university has a good maternity leave policy for faculty, and our current department head is very supportive of work-family balance issues.  I am entitled to 12 weeks paid leave, and knowing my colleagues I don’t think anyone would really complain about it.  But it’s strange to think I would be something of a trailblazer just for having a baby.  Newsflash to science departments: young women can be science professors AND have babies too.

I already went through this with my first baby. I was a postdoc, one of very few women in that department.  They had never had a pregnant postdoc before.  I had a prestigious postdoctoral fellowship paid from an endowed fund.  I caused some headaches for the department and many meetings of committee that was in charge of the fund, which included the department head, just to discuss how to handle my case.  It apparently had never occurred to anyone that a postdoc brought in under this fund might become, gasppregnant!  In the end they decided to give me up to 4 months unpaid leave, since by university policy they had to.  Then they suggested I use my short-term disability insurance in order to get 55% pay for 6 weeks, and suggested I could take my 4 weeks of combined vacation and sick leave (paid at 100%) as well.  So no real maternity leave, but it was something anyway.  Luckily my postdoc advisor was also very understanding and supportive, and really didn’t mind if I needed to take a little bit of extra time off here and there.

All-in-all, my experiences haven’t been that bad.  Certainly it could have been much worse and likely is for many academic women.  But it’s just a bit mind-boggling that just having children causes me to set a bunch of new precedents within my departments.  Being a trailblazer in this area was never my intention, but if I’m the first, so be it.  Hopefully my forcing these departments to deal with this issue will help others who come along after me.

 

Advertisements

Probabilities

This post is going to be more philosophical.  I’ve been thinking a lot lately about probabilities and how it seems like a lot of events with a probability of roughly 1-3% keep happening.  For example, my daughter was born early due to PPROM (preterm premature rupture of membranes; my water broke at 33.5 weeks).  I had no risk factors or warning signs for this, making my risk for sudden PPROM roughly 2%.

My daughter has autism.  We have absolutely no family history of autism, and she is a girl (autism is much more common in boys).  The probability that she would have autism given this profile is roughly 1%.

A few other things I don’t want to write about have also happened recently with similar nominal odds attached to them.  It’s made me think that it isn’t so crazy to worry about things that have a 1% chance of occurring, since in my experience plenty of them occur.  A 99% chance no longer seems like a sure thing.

I realized though that we all take many, many 1% or less gambles every day and usually we win, meaning usually we are in the 99% (about, say, 99% of the time!).  Once I started thinking about all the thing that could have happened but didn’t, I realized that maybe it’s not that strange that I “lost” two 1-3% chances.  After all, there is probably at least a 1% chance that I would get in a car accident sometime in the last year.  Didn’t happen.  Many other pregnancy complications that didn’t happen to me had 1% or higher chances of occurring.  There’s probably a roughly 1-3% chance that my husband or I would have developed cancer by this time in our lives, and that hasn’t happened.

For every real-life gamble lost, every disaster or bad diagnosis, there are many more gambles won and disasters averted.  When something bad happens, it’s easy to ask “why me?” but maybe it’s better to remember the things that didn’t happen instead.  For every 100 1% chances you take, you should expect to lose one.  Most of the 1% chances we take we don’t even realize we’re taking, so it always seems like a shock when that 1% thing happens to us.  But we all have to lose sometime.  Really, these things should come as a shock, because if we spent all our time anticipating all the 1% gambles we could lose we’d all go crazy.  I guess we just have to expect the occasional shock in life.

When I look at things this way, having PPROM and a chid with high-functioning autism seems pretty good, compared to all the other disasters that could have happened.

Stimming

Stimming is autism terminology for self-stimulatory behavior, or anything that autistic people do to stimulate the senses that they find soothing or enjoyable.

My daughter has a number of stimming behaviors that we see on a daily basis.  For example, she often spins in circles reciting the alphabet, or bounces up and down on her heels while counting.  When excited, she rocks back and forth rapidly.  When sitting down, it looks like she is energetically rowing an invisible boat.

My husband and I very much subscribe to the idea that stimming is not to be discouraged, but rather accepted as part of who our daughter is and even celebrated.  Stimming helps her calm down when she is bombarded with too much sensory input.  A common misconception about ABA therapy is that the therapists will punish or prevent stimming, but our experience has been that the therapists accept and wait out stimming behaviors.  Her therapy team is completely on board with our attitude.

The exception to the rule is when stimming becomes self-harming, which is unfortunately common.  In my daughter’s case, she used to bang her head against the wall when she was tired.  We did discourage that behavior and it has since naturally stopped.  In the past few weeks, a new behavior has emerged.  She now smacks herself in the face, usually in the forehead area.  She even leans into the hits.  I am torn about this, because she doesn’t seem to be causing any viable damage (skin looks normal) and I doubt she is hitting herself hard enough to cause any internal injury.  But if I allow this to continue, who knows what it might turn into, plus it’s just disturbing to see your child repeatedly hit themselves.  She also has a very high pain tolerance, seeming to not even notice falls and scrapes that would have other toddlers bawling, so I worry she may hurt herself and not notice.  I’m going to ask her doctor about this at her next appointment, but it’s a month away.

Kiddo also enjoys makes lines out her toys, like many autistic children.  I’m not sure if this counts as stimming but I’m including it here because she made some nice lines this weekend and I thought it was cute.  Notice how the boats have been given their own line, and all the airplanes are sorted out in a pile at the back.

IMG_20160710_140021

Keeping it all going

No one expects that being a professor and a mom to an autistic toddler is easy.  It really isn’t, but not always in the ways people might expect.

Caring for the autistic kid is actually probably easier than most people think, at least in our case.  Our daughter is very high functioning, and other than some sensory related meltdowns, is a fairly happy kid.  She gets frustrated when she can’t communicate something she wants, but so does every toddler.  In fact, every weekday evening from 5:30-7:00 PM we have our ABA implementers around to help out.  Lately kiddo has wanted to do her ABA therapy in her basement playroom – which is wonderful.  She and the implementer stay down there and husband and I can make dinner and eat together in peace.  This is a recent development, it used to be that kiddo was constantly running away from therapy to me and demanding to be picked up.  So things on that front have gotten easier.

On the work front, it’s summer, so that means no teaching at the moment.  But stress levels are still very high.  As my mother keeps reminding me, I have a proposal deadline coming up. Seriously, when do parents stop nagging you about homework?  Apparently not when you become a professor, at least in my case.  Note to other profs: Do not tell your parents about impending proposal deadlines.  I don’t know why I ever did.

Of course I also have to prep my fall class, get a paper out, advise a student, and a few other things.  Oh, and I’ve recently had my own health scare that is most likely nothing, but has resulted in me having a TON of doctor’s appointments and tests.  Last week I had a cardiologist appointment, a kidney ultrasound, and a cardiac MRI, all of which showed me to be perfectly healthy.  But it’s an extra drain on my time and stress levels, and the docs want me to do more tests, ugh.

So with all this, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that some things slip through the cracks occasionally.  This week, I managed to annoy the front office staff of my department because I was supposed to sign a form by a specific date and I went to sign it the day after the deadline.  The deadline was pretty much the same day we got the forms because of the end of the fiscal year.  Apparently they were looking for me on Tuesday to get this signature, but I had some other stuff to take care of on Tuesday and wasn’t around.  So when I talked to them on Wednesday I got comments like “No one ever knows where you are, you’re not around.”  And other annoyed comments.  At first I was embarrassed but then I realized a few things: 1) I’m a professor.  I don’t work for or report to the office staff.  and 2) It’s summer, which means the university isn’t paying me for my time.  Many people may not know this, but professors actually aren’t paid for the summer months unless we find our own money through grants.  So I feel like they can’t really fault me for not being around for a day, after all, I’m still working for the university over the summer without pay from them.  (I did have 1 month of pay from a grant, but 2 months are completely unpaid for me).

Perhaps part of the problem is imposter syndrome, and I certainly have some of that.  It probably doesn’t help that I am female and younger than both of our front office employees, by a decent margin.  In fact I’m younger than some of the graduate students, which can make it a bit awkward if I try to exercise my professorial authority.  Also, I am someone who is very easily embarrassed and I suffer from a high level of anxiety, for which I take medication but it’s still a problem for me.  So for now, as silly as it is, I’m avoiding the front office completely.