What does Schroedinger's cat have to do with babies?

Fresh on the heels of the older fathers studies that I wrote about last time, out came a smaller, seemingly quieter piece of news about reproduction - a study that indicated multiple miscarriages may be caused by a woman's body's inability to reject unviable embyros. It hasn't shown up on the NYTimes Motherlode blog, where all the hottest topics and reports make a visit these days, but I hope it slaps on its best party dress and sparkles and starts making the rounds, because I think it will cause a lot of tears for a lot of women and then perhaps a huge, forgiving sigh.

The researchers claim that their research showed that some women's uteruses (uteri? uteroes? whatever, you know what I mean but can't spell) aren't that good at distinguishing between a viable and unviable embryo, and just go implant the hell out of anything passing through. Including embryos that wouldn't have resulted in a successful pregnancy. So instead of a "why is my body broken and not providing a loving, nurturing space for these embryos" kind of situation, which I think can lead to extreme feelings of failure, really, it is just a "oh, my uterus is just a bit too accepting of all embryos, and what other women's uteruses (it is English, so just let's pretend I can pluralize that way, ok?) wouldn't have even given another glance at, mine just got all "oooh, let's take them all home, and raise them". Like some of the characters...well, all of the characters, on Sex and the City and bad choices with guys. Your miscarriages weren't because you failed to provide a healthy place for a baby to grow, those embryos wouldn't have become babies in anyone's uterus.

It isn't you. At least not in that way that I think many of us who had a miscarriage and we didn't know the cause were thinking. It isn't your fault, you're not broken. You're probably an overachiever in life, actually. More than a little over-enthusiastic, perhaps? Especially if you're willing to keep trying for pregnancies after the harrowing experience that is a miscarriage. Turns out, so is your uterus.

Well, who knows what effect this has on women, but for me, I found it to be a strongly emotional result. Sure, perhaps it meant that I'd been producing damaged eggs or something, but at least it wasn't the case that my body was rejecting the baby that my brain and heart had been hoping and wishing for.

And it comes at a good time for me because I think I was pregnant again. Just for a few weeks. I didn't actually have the chance to take a second pregnancy test to confirm what I was feeling or the results of the first one. And while we've been having such long discussions about whether or not we want another child, and kind of settled one the "only one" side of the tracks, I seemed to have become pregnant again, and now not.  Or maybe it was a false positive and I wasn't.

Who'd have thought that pregnancy and quantum mechanics seem so related? Not this guy. Turns out, I disagree, and I think women who have been possibly pregnant, know exactly what this is like. Quantum weirdness has nothing on us. In that time before you can test for pregnancy, but think you may be pregnant, if you are being harshly realistic, you know things can go either way. You can be both pregnant and not pregnant at the same time. Your thoughts switch between, "I am, and what will that be like" and "Nope, I'm not and this is all just hopeful", and until you do that measurement, the system doesn't collapse into just "yes" or just "no."

Kids and art and such

In the previous month, we've started collecting craft supplies at our house, hoarding them for the impending cold, rainy, grey winter months when A and her friends will be spending more time inside than at the playground. We're going to need something to keep us occupied. And instead of buying new toys, M and I have decided to see what we can make with the empty water bottles, eggs cartons, tissue boxes and toilet paper rolls. While the other objects are all still waiting the arrival of enough peers to make a bowling alley/construction set, the toilet paper rolls have already made their debut. M draws little people on them. It may still be a bit early for A to appreciate the roll people.

A paper towel roll became a crocodile that could eat, and then poop, all manner of object. That one went over a bit better. I state for the record, that was not my idea.

It seems that other people also reuse toilet paper rolls for art projects. Just a little more highbrow and fricking amazing.

I found that artist's website while searching the internet for paper cutout patterns or designs I can use on some white contact paper I have, that I want to cover A's bathroom light (one of those soul sucking long fluorescent deals) with, to dim it a bit for evening tooth brushing time. I think that detail is out of my league. Perhaps a few stars or moons might be achievable with minimal self injury from the exacto knife.

A has just gotten over a long cold. Ok, not gotten over, but the fever and extreme cough are gone long enough that she can go back to school, we can all sleep through more hours of the night, and I can recover. And I know she's feeling better because she has her characteristic energy back. To jump and sing, to wail and cry on the floor, to say "NO!" over and over again, and to eat. All the raisins out of many slices of Panettone. I used butter on the remaining bread parts to get those in as part of yesterday's snack.

And just as parental exhaustion over a toddler illness gives way to parental exhaustion over a back-to-normal force of nature, I think again about the second child.

When you start dating someone your family likes, "when are you getting engaged?" seems to come up way earlier than you are ready to answer. This doesn't stop through "married", "having kids", all the way through "second kid." I think people who ask this have either lower-key kids, no kids, or lots of help with their kids.

Sure, I'm getting to the edge of my 30s, and it may take us a long time to conceive again, it may not even be possible. Who knows. And friends of mine whose first kids are about A's age are either pregnant or starting to talk about that next child. And I feel like I should to.

And then I find myself exhausted. One more great day, with so much to do and see, and some tantrums to calm, but a lot of wrangling and not a lot of down time, and I'm spent. It is time to put that question away for now. Because I can't plan on another child at this moment. Even the thought of being pregnant while I have such an active kid and such a weak back, is daunting. I still need 95% of what I bring to any given day, to mother, but also to get to where A and I are enjoying each other. It isn't time yet for us. I think it is just time to enjoy our crazy, laughing, screaming, singing, kissing, kicking, talking kid full on a while longer. The second child question will have to wait.

For now. I think I've found a cute pattern that is within my reach...using a hole punch. Wait, where am I going to get a hole punch?