NYC Moms

My Pregnancy Diet

Many women would confess that part of the fun of pregnancy is the accompanying excuse to be able to eat anything you want. Now, I am not saying that carrying a child is a reason to go on a nine-month binge. However, it is the single time in your life when you can get whipped cream on a decaf (okay, there are some sacrifices) mocha frappucinno, eat an entire dessert after dinner instead of the usual "just one bite" routine, or indulge in a few Godforsaken carbs now and again without a tremendous amount of guilt (or the fear that your pants will not button in the morning - thankfully they don't make those stretchy tummy panels in regular jeans or my daily accountability would be gone). You don't even have to worry that some skinny bitch will look you up and down at your favorite take out spot with that "it's heading right to your thighs" look after you order your sinful treat because her eyes won't have to travel that far from your face to understand that you get a "free pass".

Don't get me wrong, trying to eat healthfully during pregnancy is important, but it is an unspoken rule that you have the right to loosen up a little about how many calories and carbs you consume when you have a bun in the oven. In fact, dieting, in the strict sense, is frowned upon while expecting. That is, unless you are diagnosed with gestational diabetes and all of that relaxed fun comes to a screeching halt.

I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes during my first pregnancy. I had no idea what it was and no idea what it meant when the doctor first told me that I failed my preliminary glucose test. I had to sit through a longer 3 hour glucose test to confirm my doctor's suspicion and then when I failed that test I was instructed

The Strength of Women Shines Through in One African Nation

I cannot remember a time when motherhood was not in my life plan. I do, however, remember the first moment that I experienced real maternal instinct. I was in Zimbabwe for a month with a college program on International Development. During our stay I visited an orphanage in the town of Mutare where I met about 25 children without parents to care for them. Many of them lost their parents to AIDS and several were visibly suffering from HIV. Their bright faces are ingrained in my memory and the bone-chilling wisdom in their little eyes haunts me to this day. I wanted to scoop them all up and take them home with me. I fell in love with those young souls during my time there and leaving absolutely broke my heart. I do believe that as women there is something deep within us that longs to take care of those around us when we see them suffering.

Zimbabwe has long been a nation struggling with many social, economic, and political issues. The President, Robert Mugabe, has been in power for over 25 years and the violence and corruption surrounding his regime is often blamed for the poor conditions that exist in the country today. The HIV and AIDS epidemic has had a staggering effect on the country, where nearly twenty percent of the population is

Parenting Without Our Parents

When my husband and I learned that we were pregnant with our first child we immediately headed to the bookstore and purchased the required reading: What to Expect, Your Pregnancy Week by Week, etc. We also sat down to our computer and signed up for various weekly baby update emails from websites like babycenter.com and ivillage.com. Whenever a question arose about the pregnancy (assuming it wasn't a doctor-worthy query) or what life after the birth might be like we turned to these resources first. I also consulted my best friend, who had recently given birth to her first child, on a regular basis. She was my own personal Consumer Reports, offering opinions about her experience with various strollers, swings, bottles, etc.

After our son was born there was a whole new set of books (The Happiest Baby on the Block, Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, etc.) and some new websites that we referred to almost daily. I joined a Yahoo Group for moms in my area and found that message board to be a lifesaver. It was a forum for women to share their experiences on everything from teething to the best music class in town. I loved that I could log on any time of day and write about my fears, concerns, or frustrations and inevitably someone would respond saying they had been through something very similar. What I didn't realize was that by seeking advice from peers, the internet, and books my husband and I were sending an unintentional message to our parents and their generation: we don't need your help.

Going Green Without the Guilt

I have always been concerned about preserving nature and the delicate balance of our global ecology. Becoming a mother has only magnified those feelings and I have certainly tried to do my part. My husband and I have always been responsible recyclers, but more recently we bought the energy efficient lightbulbs and power strips, I bring a reusable bag with me when pushing the stroller to the organic market in town, and we fully intend to buy a hybrid car when making our next auto purchase. However, it never feels like we do enough. I will always be thinking about how the beautiful Brazilian cherry wood floors in apartment contributed to deforestation, how every online purchase means more of those horrible little plastic peanuts will be used, and how during the summer our building issued air conditioner will run almost constantly (we live on the 22nd floor and I can attest to the fact that heat does rise). I recently read an article in the New York Times that referred to this feeling as "ecoguilt."

The article was about a group of women called EcoMoms who gather for green parties to swap ideas of how to be more environmentally conscious at home. At the end of the article they mention how the hostess of the party was chided for her interior paint, carpeting, and even the fresh cut flowers she put out for the event. It was so sad to me that this woman opened her home to others in an effort to raise awareness about this important issue and became a target of the group's criticism. Was she supposed to completely renovate her home when she decided to become a supporter of environmental causes?

Big Brother in Training

Preparing for baby #2 is a lot different than I had anticipated. With my first pregnancy the focus was on the "stuff": the crib, the car seat, the breast pump, etc. I knew that once the baby arrived I would be terrified and completely unsure of myself, but as long as I had the right equipment I could get through it. Strangely I am no more confident this time that I will be able to handle all that this new life will bring with it, but I am less worried about the stuff to help me survive and much more concerned about my 18 month old son.

I don't have many friends with children and very few live nearby, so the only kids my son interacts with are the ones at the playground, in music class, and in playgroups - all around his age. His exposure to babies is extremely limited and very much in passing. A few months ago we went to visit a friend who had recently given birth and when I held the baby my son lost it. I could see the hurt in his eyes that I was holding this other little person instead of him. Just yesterday a neighbor asked me to hold her baby for a moment while she helped her older child with something and it happened again. I am painfully aware that this time around the "stuff" isn't going to be much help.

I know that I am not the first, nor will I be the last, to deal with this predicament. I also know that there is no one solution that works for every family. I have successfully convinced my husband that a baby doll