I should start this post with all the disclaimers.
First and mostly importantly, this is more an uninformed wondering than any opinion based on solidly researched facts. I don't have a dog in this fight.
What am I talking about, you ask? Catholic Schools. I should probably save this post for Catholic Schools Week, but I don't have the first clue when that might be nor do I care.
I live an hour away from the closest Catholic school and I am never going to travel two hours daily to bring my kids to school, even if it were free. It's just not worth it for us. But I do wonder why the schools cost what they do.
The other day, in a thread, someone made reference to an old controversy involving the Nashville Dominicans. I didn't care much about the old issue, but it did prompt me to think about something about the Sisters that bothers me. More disclaimers: I love the Sisters. They are great to visit and do great work and I am proud that my hometown is so closely associated with them. End disclaimer
I have always heard the major problem with the cost of Catholic schools is that the ideal of educating every Catholic child hangs on the assumption that the teachers have vowed poverty and don't really have to be paid. This sounds like a reasonable supposition. And yet. And yet...
So the closest Catholic school to me is a diocesan school--50 minutes in traffic free driving. Most of the teachers are lay people. There might be a few religious on the staff. (Or more than a few? I don't know.) I don't know how much the diocese or the attached parish contributes to the upkeep of the school but I can tell you the tuition is $6410 a year per child. I assume this doesn't include books or uniforms or various fees. I could send all my currently school-aged children (that's three of them) to this Catholic school for $16317 a year because of a multi-child discount. That's a crazy amount of money. Most families can't begin to swing that kind of outlay.
Now let's compare that to the elementary school run and staffed by the Nashville Dominicans. Again, I don't know how this school is supported aside from the tuition, which commands $13690 a year per child. Again I assume this doesn't include books or uniforms or various fees. I do know the properties on which the schools sit are old. They also offer a multi-child discount so I could send my children to the Dominican school for the bargain basement price of $37650 a year. This is utterly insane.
Why does it cost so much?
I do know that both schools offer financial assistance. They all say that if you want your child in the schools, they will work to make it happen. I have also heard through the grapevine that in order to qualify, you have to send every single disposable dollar to the school. Rice, beans, and Catholic school. I don't know if this is true or not, but it is the general impression I have gotten from people who have gone through the process.
Since we are on the topic of the grapevine, it is also the general impression that the Motherhouse demands a premium salary for sending teachers to a school. Once more I'll say I don't know the facts, but people say it is in the neighborhood of 60K per year per teacher. That's a might fine salary for one who has taken a vow of poverty.
So I don't know how the economics of Catholic schools can possibly work. The diocesan schools charge more than most families can afford while the lay teachers live in actual poverty. The Sisters, who have taken poverty vows, charge an eye-popping amount more for their services. How is this sustainable?
Thursday, February 1, 2018
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Things That Annoy Me #6
Hey, I thought I'd bring back an oldie but goodie category!
These days my oldest child is involved in a few organizations and all of them seem very intent on improving her character and establishing good service habits in her. This is all well and good. She, being a fastidious child when it comes to the expectations of people not her mother, is very concerned with meeting all her requirements. Here's the problem: They all want her to either serve her family in a way that isn't helpful to me at all or don't want her to serve her family at all. This means I have a child anxiously worried over her impending failure and a fat load of homework for me.
The first source of angst is her Confirmation class. They have required service hours. I shall restrain my service hours to earn Confirmation rant except to note that the Apostles were not running a soup kitchen before Pentecost. She has hours required in service to church. These are hard to come by for reasons that can basically be summed up by saying it's a small parish and there isn't much going on for the 12yo set. She has hours required in service to community, which essentially means homework for me. What is explicitly prohibited is serving her family. Every service hour has to be signed off by 'not a parent.'
The second source of angst is her AHG troop. The older girls are working on a badge that require them to help their families in very specific ways, like say, cleaning out the garage. Our garage is not a job a 12yo can do. Heck, I am not old enough to handle cleaning out our garage. Almost every requirement is something that makes our home life harder not easier. I can tell her helping out in a different way is just as good except THAT'S NOT WHAT THE BOOK SAYS! If the book says clean the garage, then cleaning the garage is the only thing to be done. !!
If not daily, then three or four times a week, I am treated to an anxiety-filled interrogation of when she will be able to earn all these hours and perform all these chores as I doggedly try to reassure her while trying not to panic about how to get it all done.
I understand the main disconnect is the people who design and run these programs expect that by the time you have a 12yo, your household management has ceased being a hot mess and is now functional. And...that's not where I am. While it looks like I am 40, have five kids, and am old hat at all this, I actually have the management skills of a relatively new mother who just forgot everything she knew while pregnant with her second baby and chasing a toddler. So when the preteen comes home with instructions, they expect it to be an easy swap into an established household routine instead of it being a prelude to a crisis of inventing said routine so she can then "help" me with it.
That her most readily available form of service is to hold the baby does not seem to be on anyone's radar.
These days my oldest child is involved in a few organizations and all of them seem very intent on improving her character and establishing good service habits in her. This is all well and good. She, being a fastidious child when it comes to the expectations of people not her mother, is very concerned with meeting all her requirements. Here's the problem: They all want her to either serve her family in a way that isn't helpful to me at all or don't want her to serve her family at all. This means I have a child anxiously worried over her impending failure and a fat load of homework for me.
The first source of angst is her Confirmation class. They have required service hours. I shall restrain my service hours to earn Confirmation rant except to note that the Apostles were not running a soup kitchen before Pentecost. She has hours required in service to church. These are hard to come by for reasons that can basically be summed up by saying it's a small parish and there isn't much going on for the 12yo set. She has hours required in service to community, which essentially means homework for me. What is explicitly prohibited is serving her family. Every service hour has to be signed off by 'not a parent.'
The second source of angst is her AHG troop. The older girls are working on a badge that require them to help their families in very specific ways, like say, cleaning out the garage. Our garage is not a job a 12yo can do. Heck, I am not old enough to handle cleaning out our garage. Almost every requirement is something that makes our home life harder not easier. I can tell her helping out in a different way is just as good except THAT'S NOT WHAT THE BOOK SAYS! If the book says clean the garage, then cleaning the garage is the only thing to be done. !!
If not daily, then three or four times a week, I am treated to an anxiety-filled interrogation of when she will be able to earn all these hours and perform all these chores as I doggedly try to reassure her while trying not to panic about how to get it all done.
I understand the main disconnect is the people who design and run these programs expect that by the time you have a 12yo, your household management has ceased being a hot mess and is now functional. And...that's not where I am. While it looks like I am 40, have five kids, and am old hat at all this, I actually have the management skills of a relatively new mother who just forgot everything she knew while pregnant with her second baby and chasing a toddler. So when the preteen comes home with instructions, they expect it to be an easy swap into an established household routine instead of it being a prelude to a crisis of inventing said routine so she can then "help" me with it.
That her most readily available form of service is to hold the baby does not seem to be on anyone's radar.
Thursday, January 11, 2018
The Perfect Schedule
Continuing in the same vein from before Christmas about time and time management, manager and maker schedules, and whether I have Executive Function dysfunction or am just totally overwhelmed, I want to talk about a daily schedule. More specifically, my ideal daily schedule. Part of the trouble I have had over the years has to do with the fact that my daily rhythm is at odds with the rest of the world. I tend to claim to be a night owl, but that's not really true. I can't go all night, but the morning may as well not exist so I claim the night as default. I have an odd body clock that falls into neither camp and I spend the day fighting my natural inclinations.
If I had my druthers, here is my perfect schedule:
I would wake up between 8 and 830 and sit in bed reading, drinking coffee, chatting on FB, and related easy-going activities until around 930. I would get up and eat a bit of breakfast, yogurt or a croissant, perhaps. It would now be coming on towards 10. I would get dressed, maybe shower, make the bed, start a load of laundry. It's now around 11 or maybe 12. I probably want to do some low energy schooling. A little bit of Sam's work, maybe. After that, it's afternoon and I want a big meal. Dinner. Something very substantial. Eating and clean up and a little rest and it is coming up on 2 or 3 o'clock. Now I am ready to start the day! Here is where I hit my stride. I can do all the things. I can readaloud. I can patiently walk a child through math. I want to do household chores. I do not want to stop for supper. I want to work straight through until maybe 8pm when I might have a hot beverage. Then I'll hit another wave of energy and work until around 11pm. Honestly, 11pm is when my energy starts to wane. At 11, I would get ready for bed and relax in bed and turn the lights out at midnight.
It isn't a lazy schedule, but it is backwards from what is expected from me and nobody else seems to run on it. I can dream about it, though.
What would your perfect schedule be?
If I had my druthers, here is my perfect schedule:
I would wake up between 8 and 830 and sit in bed reading, drinking coffee, chatting on FB, and related easy-going activities until around 930. I would get up and eat a bit of breakfast, yogurt or a croissant, perhaps. It would now be coming on towards 10. I would get dressed, maybe shower, make the bed, start a load of laundry. It's now around 11 or maybe 12. I probably want to do some low energy schooling. A little bit of Sam's work, maybe. After that, it's afternoon and I want a big meal. Dinner. Something very substantial. Eating and clean up and a little rest and it is coming up on 2 or 3 o'clock. Now I am ready to start the day! Here is where I hit my stride. I can do all the things. I can readaloud. I can patiently walk a child through math. I want to do household chores. I do not want to stop for supper. I want to work straight through until maybe 8pm when I might have a hot beverage. Then I'll hit another wave of energy and work until around 11pm. Honestly, 11pm is when my energy starts to wane. At 11, I would get ready for bed and relax in bed and turn the lights out at midnight.
It isn't a lazy schedule, but it is backwards from what is expected from me and nobody else seems to run on it. I can dream about it, though.
What would your perfect schedule be?
Saturday, December 16, 2017
Time or Time Management Redux
Y no posts?
A few years ago, I lamented that I didn't have a time management problem, I had a time problem. That was the truth then. My schedule was dictated to me and I did not have much time available to manage. Now, I am firmly on the other side. I have loads of unstructured time and do a terrible job managing it.
You have probably heard of the four categories a task can fall into: Urgent and Important, Urgent But Not Important, Important But Not Urgent, and Neither Urgent Nor Important. I live most of my life in the Urgent and Important category. I am full-up on Urgent and Important. Tasks get ignored until they fall into Urgent and Important. It is not because I do it on purpose. It is because my calendar is filled with backlogged and new entries in the Urgent and Important category. Grocery shopping, school planning, bills, taxes, curriculum choices, doctor appointments, church, children's activities, combing hair for lice. My day is full of tasks that can't be ignored for another minute, as was the day before and the day before, stretching back as far as I can remember. Even when physically unable, as during pregnancy, there are tasks I should have been doing and I fall further and further behind. Tasks that I really want to do, but I cannot seem to get ahead of the curve.
If you have been around me for any length of time, you know the ongoing house purge is usually at the top of my list of tasks to complete, but sadly it falls into the Important But Not Urgent category. This is the category that haunts me. Blogging and exercise live here too. Christmas shopping goes here. I theoretically have time for all these things, but it keeps not happening. One of my top priorities when I quit my job was to totally purge and organize my house. It is amazing to me, and not in a good way, that over two years later, the job is only partially done. Like maybe almost a third, partially done.
Earlier this week, a friend on FB linked an article explaining the difference between a maker's schedule and a manager's schedule. It gives excellent insight into why my schedule and my goals are so incongruent. The life of a stay-at-home, homeschooling mother of a newborn is essentially a manager's life. I am managing people all day long. Constant questions and interruptions and redirections define my day.
<The hour of band practice is finished. Insert interruption here>
The problem is that for a manager's life to run smoothly, it needs an organizational structure on which to hang. The act of creating that structure requires some amount of time as a maker. My ability to procure enough maker's time to make the week flow properly is limited. I rarely get enough time to make the school checklists and make a grocery list and make a meal plan and pay the bills and write out a general to-do list, which are the bare minimum requirements for a smooth week. If I pay the bills, I am probably not making the school lists. If I make the school lists, I am probably not making a meal plan. We have been shopping by emergency for months. My last to-do list was written when Ella was three weeks old. No, I haven't finished it all yet.
<Time for supper. Band concert tonight. Insert interruption here>
<It's now Saturday>
My ability to procure enough maker's time to reorganize the house so we aren't flying from one crisis to another has proven nigh impossible.
<Oh wait. The baby decided to fill her diaper. Hold on.>
<Baby changed and nursed and napping. 30 minutes have elapsed.>
NB: The unrelenting schedule has prevented me from sitting down to plan what to buy for Christmas and then actually order all of it. But don't worry, it is fast moving into the Urgent category.
A few years ago, I lamented that I didn't have a time management problem, I had a time problem. That was the truth then. My schedule was dictated to me and I did not have much time available to manage. Now, I am firmly on the other side. I have loads of unstructured time and do a terrible job managing it.
You have probably heard of the four categories a task can fall into: Urgent and Important, Urgent But Not Important, Important But Not Urgent, and Neither Urgent Nor Important. I live most of my life in the Urgent and Important category. I am full-up on Urgent and Important. Tasks get ignored until they fall into Urgent and Important. It is not because I do it on purpose. It is because my calendar is filled with backlogged and new entries in the Urgent and Important category. Grocery shopping, school planning, bills, taxes, curriculum choices, doctor appointments, church, children's activities, combing hair for lice. My day is full of tasks that can't be ignored for another minute, as was the day before and the day before, stretching back as far as I can remember. Even when physically unable, as during pregnancy, there are tasks I should have been doing and I fall further and further behind. Tasks that I really want to do, but I cannot seem to get ahead of the curve.
If you have been around me for any length of time, you know the ongoing house purge is usually at the top of my list of tasks to complete, but sadly it falls into the Important But Not Urgent category. This is the category that haunts me. Blogging and exercise live here too. Christmas shopping goes here. I theoretically have time for all these things, but it keeps not happening. One of my top priorities when I quit my job was to totally purge and organize my house. It is amazing to me, and not in a good way, that over two years later, the job is only partially done. Like maybe almost a third, partially done.
Earlier this week, a friend on FB linked an article explaining the difference between a maker's schedule and a manager's schedule. It gives excellent insight into why my schedule and my goals are so incongruent. The life of a stay-at-home, homeschooling mother of a newborn is essentially a manager's life. I am managing people all day long. Constant questions and interruptions and redirections define my day.
<The hour of band practice is finished. Insert interruption here>
The problem is that for a manager's life to run smoothly, it needs an organizational structure on which to hang. The act of creating that structure requires some amount of time as a maker. My ability to procure enough maker's time to make the week flow properly is limited. I rarely get enough time to make the school checklists and make a grocery list and make a meal plan and pay the bills and write out a general to-do list, which are the bare minimum requirements for a smooth week. If I pay the bills, I am probably not making the school lists. If I make the school lists, I am probably not making a meal plan. We have been shopping by emergency for months. My last to-do list was written when Ella was three weeks old. No, I haven't finished it all yet.
<Time for supper. Band concert tonight. Insert interruption here>
<It's now Saturday>
My ability to procure enough maker's time to reorganize the house so we aren't flying from one crisis to another has proven nigh impossible.
<Baby changed and nursed and napping. 30 minutes have elapsed.>
The litany of reasons why I have not been able to get maker's time to purge and organized the house is long and would be comical if it weren't depressing. Shall we list a few? We shall, if only for my catharsis.
<Baby is fussing. I am ignoring. Shhh, Baby. Shhhh. Oh good. Sleep again.>
At first I thought I could homeschool in the morning and clean in the afternoon. You may stop laughing now. Then I thought I could clean over Christmas break. That time just happened to exactly coincide with Dave beginning a seven day a week work schedule and I had to take over cooking and shopping. So.
Then I thought I could clean over the summer after the spring semester was over, but Marian picked up the delightful habit as a 2.5yo of vacating the house whenever an exit was unguarded. Yes, she could unlock the doors. Yes, she could remove the childproof door handle things. No, I didn't install hooks out of her reach. No, she didn't care to watch the TV. I could not work on any project without someone keeping an active eye on Marian. Finding someone to do that on any kind of a regular basis turned out to be impossible. Why? I don't really know. I am still processing my feelings about all that and trying hard not to be angry about it. (I might be angry about it.)
Then I thought I could clean over the summer after the spring semester was over, but Marian picked up the delightful habit as a 2.5yo of vacating the house whenever an exit was unguarded. Yes, she could unlock the doors. Yes, she could remove the childproof door handle things. No, I didn't install hooks out of her reach. No, she didn't care to watch the TV. I could not work on any project without someone keeping an active eye on Marian. Finding someone to do that on any kind of a regular basis turned out to be impossible. Why? I don't really know. I am still processing my feelings about all that and trying hard not to be angry about it. (I might be angry about it.)
Then the school year began again and I thought I could do school four days a week and clean on the fifth day. I still needed someone to take Marian. I spent three months having this conversation:
"Do you think you could take Marian one day a week?"
"Absolutely. I'd be happy to do that."
"What day would be best for you?"
"I'm not sure. Let me check my calendar. I'll get back to you."
"Can you take her on Fridays?"
"I don't know. Let me check my calendar. I'll get back to you."
"Do you think you could take Marian one day a week?"
"Absolutely. I'd be happy to do that."
"What day would be best for you?"
"I'm not sure. Let me check my calendar. I'll get back to you."
"Can you take her on Fridays?"
"I don't know. Let me check my calendar. I'll get back to you."
Over and over and over.
I cannot begin to explain my frustration. The unwillingness of people in helping me out here is amazing. Again, amazing not a good way. If I had known, I might have investigated non-family help or, heck, put her in daycare for a month. But it is what it is.
I cannot begin to explain my frustration. The unwillingness of people in helping me out here is amazing. Again, amazing not a good way. If I had known, I might have investigated non-family help or, heck, put her in daycare for a month. But it is what it is.
It was at this point we decided to try for another baby. I knew pregnancy would delay my housekeeping plans, but I decided a baby was more important than a clean house. We conceived immediately. Then I was sick. For months, I was sick. Homeschooling was a joke more than an activity. Then I got pregnancy related anemia. Then the children got redacted lice. Then homeschooling started up again. Then I had a baby. Then I had a newborn. I still think it was the right choice, but that clean house would be awfully nice too.
So now I live in acceptance that time for a maker's project is probably not going to happen over Christmas--that's a lie. I am positive it will work out this time, right?--or during the school year. I think longingly about the upcoming summer now that Marian is no longer insane about randomly running away--I've given up on finding a babysitter--and Ella won't be mobile yet.
To me, the takeaway idea from the concepts of manager and maker schedules is realizing that it really isn't my personal failure that has prevented me from doing all I had hoped. I live almost exclusively in a manager's schedule and do not get enough maker's time to make the week run smoothly, much less to delve into large scale projects. This inability to cram maker projects into a manager's time schedule is not evidence of my being a freak for needing more time. My time requirements for these big creative projects aren't all that out of whack.
So now I live in acceptance that time for a maker's project is probably not going to happen over Christmas--that's a lie. I am positive it will work out this time, right?--or during the school year. I think longingly about the upcoming summer now that Marian is no longer insane about randomly running away--I've given up on finding a babysitter--and Ella won't be mobile yet.
To me, the takeaway idea from the concepts of manager and maker schedules is realizing that it really isn't my personal failure that has prevented me from doing all I had hoped. I live almost exclusively in a manager's schedule and do not get enough maker's time to make the week run smoothly, much less to delve into large scale projects. This inability to cram maker projects into a manager's time schedule is not evidence of my being a freak for needing more time. My time requirements for these big creative projects aren't all that out of whack.
I still want more maker's time, but I will resist the notion that the time is optional and, if I were more efficient, I should be able to work in spite of not getting the time. I will stop feeling bad about accomplishing exactly nothing maker related when I only have one free hour.
How do you carve out enough maker time? I need to figure this out.
<Dave says lunch is ready and he is waiting on me. I probably should have showered. I chose to write instead. Baby will probably be awake after I eat. I don't really have time to reread and edit. :/ >
<Dave says lunch is ready and he is waiting on me. I probably should have showered. I chose to write instead. Baby will probably be awake after I eat. I don't really have time to reread and edit. :/ >
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Random Observations
I was driving around here, there, and yonder yesterday with the kids when I glanced down at the gas gauge. I had three quarters of a tank. Then it occurred to me that I rarely think about the gas tank anymore.
When I was working and driving seventy-something miles a day, the gas tank was always on my mind. Every day I'd look at the gas gauge, figure out how long it would last, and try to time my fillup for when I had the time in the cheapest location. There could be a 20 or 30 cent differential in price, depending on where I was.
It was a continual source of low level stress that I could not allow to get away from me because I could get stranded. I thought about it every day. And now, I don't.
When I was working and driving seventy-something miles a day, the gas tank was always on my mind. Every day I'd look at the gas gauge, figure out how long it would last, and try to time my fillup for when I had the time in the cheapest location. There could be a 20 or 30 cent differential in price, depending on where I was.
It was a continual source of low level stress that I could not allow to get away from me because I could get stranded. I thought about it every day. And now, I don't.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Nursing Modesty The Fifth Time Around
I am happy to report that my health seems to be returned to normal. All the weird symptoms have mostly subsided and I am only tired in the sleep deprived way instead of the 'something is going awry' way. I am still trying to find the new normal and am most impatient with myself. I want to post more often and fail so here's a quick amusement.
Yesterday was Ella's one month appointment. I was running late because running late is my special charism. All my best efforts to the contrary, I will be late.
I drove into the parking lot and hurriedly pulled Ella out of her car seat. I put my purse on my shoulder, grabbed a burp cloth, and looked at her blanket. Do I need the blanket? In an instant I decided against it. It wasn't that cool, she had on long sleeves and pants, and it would be one more thing to carry. Off we go.
We are called into our room. The nurse tells me to take all her clothes off. Crud. I do need that blanket. How could I forget?
The nurses finishes and we are left to wait on the doctor. The naked Ella gets cold and fussy, and I have nothing to wrap her in except to awkwardly drape her discarded clothing over her. I set down to nurse her thinking warm milk and my warm body might make this wait a bit less uncomfortable.
Finally the doctor enters. "I have a blanket in the car that I should have brought in, but I just didn't think about it."
The doctor reassures me. "It's no big deal. Don't you worry about it."
"But I forgot she would have her clothes off and she is cold and I don't have anything to wrap her in."
"...Oh. You mean for the baby."
Half a beat passes. I look down. My shirt is hiked all the way up to my collarbone. It's all hanging out. All of it. It never crossed my mind.
Yesterday was Ella's one month appointment. I was running late because running late is my special charism. All my best efforts to the contrary, I will be late.
I drove into the parking lot and hurriedly pulled Ella out of her car seat. I put my purse on my shoulder, grabbed a burp cloth, and looked at her blanket. Do I need the blanket? In an instant I decided against it. It wasn't that cool, she had on long sleeves and pants, and it would be one more thing to carry. Off we go.
We are called into our room. The nurse tells me to take all her clothes off. Crud. I do need that blanket. How could I forget?
The nurses finishes and we are left to wait on the doctor. The naked Ella gets cold and fussy, and I have nothing to wrap her in except to awkwardly drape her discarded clothing over her. I set down to nurse her thinking warm milk and my warm body might make this wait a bit less uncomfortable.
Finally the doctor enters. "I have a blanket in the car that I should have brought in, but I just didn't think about it."
The doctor reassures me. "It's no big deal. Don't you worry about it."
"But I forgot she would have her clothes off and she is cold and I don't have anything to wrap her in."
"...Oh. You mean for the baby."
Half a beat passes. I look down. My shirt is hiked all the way up to my collarbone. It's all hanging out. All of it. It never crossed my mind.
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Postpartum Wonkiness
I have a birth story post brewing, but that has been put on hold by the demands of a newborn and the fog that still resides in my head.
Birth and its aftermath was fairly routine. In fact from a pain perspective, this delivery has been probably the easiest I have had. I finally found a pain medicine protocol that works for me; it only took five times. I had minor tearing and, I think, two stitches that healed very quickly. I was sore for a few days, but overall the aches and pains associated with post-pregnancy has been mild. If only that was the end of it.
During the pregnancy, I continued with my low blood pressure that I have always had. Normal readings for me stay around 100/70 and 90/60 is not alarming. I had an annoying high pulse, but was told repeatedly it wasn't high enough to be worrisome. It just pounded in the 90s most of the time.
Within a day after delivery, my pulse blessedly returned to normal.
Within five days of delivery, I had a continuous low grade headache. I first attributed the headache to too much screen scrolling while sitting with a baby. I was still basking in my non-pounding pulse. After several days of this dull headache, I decided to take my pulse to see where it was sitting. I was expecting something in the mid-70s. I got something in the mid-50s. Huh. That's weird. I immediately wondered what my blood pressure might be with such a pulse, and being the proud owner of a cuff, I went to find out. I had no idea what to expect. 135/85. What? That was somewhat alarming.
Over the next few days, I kept a steady eye on my blood pressure. While not technically actionable, it was a lot higher than my usual and my head was dull. I even had a migraine aura. Over the course of a few days, it stayed in that same range, and after I stupidly spent two hours in an unair-conditioned barn for a wedding reception, it got as high as 150/90. Officially concerning.
I consulted my doctor and started keeping a regular record. That high reading was as high as it got. Over the last week it has stabilized into a more normal range with my high readings being 120/80 and the others hanging around 110/75. So maybe I am not going to have a stroke.
My pulse has not recovered as nicely. It is still hovers in the 60s or 70s during the day and I am sure falls into the 50s (or 40s) while I sleep. This slow circulation does not help the dull headache. My brain is foggy and slow. I have to reach for words.
And! I am getting heart palpitations. I think I have figured out they are exacerbated by stress, low blood sugar, and the slow pulse. The palpitations are much fewer when I keep my blood sugar level. However, regular eating is not my strong suit. Regular eating with a newborn is really not my strong suit.
The fun thing about heart issues is that thinking about them can cause your body to react. I wonder about my pulse and can watch it slow down noticeably on the monitor. I think about a palpitation and then my heart starts flip-flopping. I have to keep up with what's happening while at the same time not dwell on it and make it worse.
I have an appointment on Monday for vitals and bloodwork to make sure all this is on the side of annoying, but harmless postpartum complications and not something more ominous. In my saner moments, I feel confident all this falls under annoying but harmless, but this hasn't been enjoyable either. Half the time I wonder if I shall have a stroke or if my heart is just going to quit beating.
Hopefully soon the fog will lift and I will be able to tell you about my 7.5 hour labor. 7.5 hours!?! All the others combined were only 10.5 hours. Stay tuned...
Birth and its aftermath was fairly routine. In fact from a pain perspective, this delivery has been probably the easiest I have had. I finally found a pain medicine protocol that works for me; it only took five times. I had minor tearing and, I think, two stitches that healed very quickly. I was sore for a few days, but overall the aches and pains associated with post-pregnancy has been mild. If only that was the end of it.
During the pregnancy, I continued with my low blood pressure that I have always had. Normal readings for me stay around 100/70 and 90/60 is not alarming. I had an annoying high pulse, but was told repeatedly it wasn't high enough to be worrisome. It just pounded in the 90s most of the time.
Within a day after delivery, my pulse blessedly returned to normal.
Within five days of delivery, I had a continuous low grade headache. I first attributed the headache to too much screen scrolling while sitting with a baby. I was still basking in my non-pounding pulse. After several days of this dull headache, I decided to take my pulse to see where it was sitting. I was expecting something in the mid-70s. I got something in the mid-50s. Huh. That's weird. I immediately wondered what my blood pressure might be with such a pulse, and being the proud owner of a cuff, I went to find out. I had no idea what to expect. 135/85. What? That was somewhat alarming.
Over the next few days, I kept a steady eye on my blood pressure. While not technically actionable, it was a lot higher than my usual and my head was dull. I even had a migraine aura. Over the course of a few days, it stayed in that same range, and after I stupidly spent two hours in an unair-conditioned barn for a wedding reception, it got as high as 150/90. Officially concerning.
I consulted my doctor and started keeping a regular record. That high reading was as high as it got. Over the last week it has stabilized into a more normal range with my high readings being 120/80 and the others hanging around 110/75. So maybe I am not going to have a stroke.
My pulse has not recovered as nicely. It is still hovers in the 60s or 70s during the day and I am sure falls into the 50s (or 40s) while I sleep. This slow circulation does not help the dull headache. My brain is foggy and slow. I have to reach for words.
And! I am getting heart palpitations. I think I have figured out they are exacerbated by stress, low blood sugar, and the slow pulse. The palpitations are much fewer when I keep my blood sugar level. However, regular eating is not my strong suit. Regular eating with a newborn is really not my strong suit.
The fun thing about heart issues is that thinking about them can cause your body to react. I wonder about my pulse and can watch it slow down noticeably on the monitor. I think about a palpitation and then my heart starts flip-flopping. I have to keep up with what's happening while at the same time not dwell on it and make it worse.
I have an appointment on Monday for vitals and bloodwork to make sure all this is on the side of annoying, but harmless postpartum complications and not something more ominous. In my saner moments, I feel confident all this falls under annoying but harmless, but this hasn't been enjoyable either. Half the time I wonder if I shall have a stroke or if my heart is just going to quit beating.
Hopefully soon the fog will lift and I will be able to tell you about my 7.5 hour labor. 7.5 hours!?! All the others combined were only 10.5 hours. Stay tuned...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)