attending science conferences in early pregnancy

Traveling to neuroscience conferences has been such a major part of the last 7 years of my life that I now consider myself a pro. What I am absolutely not a pro at is traveling while pregnant.

This year on International Women's Day, I attended my first scientific conference as a pregnant woman.

This week, I am 16 weeks pregnant. I am starting to show. And I flew from California to Maryland for the first conference of my post doc. It was a long (fortunately non-stop) flight. It was a week of putting myself in front of new people and assertively introducing myself, and semi-hiding my condition.

Here is what I learned about flying during early pregnancy:

1. Nobody is going to offer to help you. I was able to lift my own carry-on into the overhead storage, but if you are not, find a nice looking person to ask for help. It's not worth the round ligament pain.

2. Whether it's to pee every 20 minutes (me) or just to get up every hour or so to stretch your legs and relieve your back (me) or belly cramps (me), you are likely to turn a few eyes. People are nosy on planes -- what else do they have to look at? What helped me was to make sure I got an aisle seat, and sit toward the middle/back of the plane where families tend to sit. Families will be moving around as much as you are. No one will judge you. If you strategically cradle your fledgling baby-bump, someone will likely even ask you how far along you are.

Here is what I learned about conference attendance during early pregnancy:

1. Stay hydrated. Most conferences provide water and chamomile tea for those stringently avoiding caffeine. Do not shy away from keeping hydrated in order to avoid getting up during one of the day's 22 seminars. Because I have Crohn's disease, I am comfortable going to the bathroom whenever I have to, sometimes wherever I have to. I have built up a mild immunity to people judging me for getting up to leave the room every 20 minutes. But if you are uncomfortable, sit in an outside edge seat or toward the back (I personally hate the back).

2. Bring snacks. Although continental breakfasts are typically safe (breads, fruit, yogurt), lunch is always a toss-up and dinner can be as well. Because I also have Crohn's disease, my diet excludes dairy and red meat. If the salad is pre-dressed, if the potatoes are doused in cream sauce, if the only protein is steak -- forget about it. With my personal pregnancy restrictions (no deli meat, no hotel fish, etc.) I am even more limited. I kept apples and carrot sticks in my bag throughout the conference. I splurged on room service so that Neonate and I could have late night nourishment when needed.

3. Not drinking coffee is really hard. I'm not normally a coffee drinker; tea is my hot beverage of choice. At conferences, however, I depend on 1-3 cups of coffee a day to keep me at attention and socially present. Since my body is not used to high input of caffeine, it's not something I'm about to test during my pregnancy so I've just avoided coffee altogether. I'm finding that this means that during my many walks to the restroom throughout the day, I quicken my pace and take a few stairs for stimulation. But I also skip out on a session here or there to lay down and relax (and again, to give my back some relief).


I ended up having a great time over my three day event. Have fun and put yourself out there. People are not nearly as observant as your nerves give them credit for.

on taking "time off"

Free time is a strange thing.

When I arranged the time interval graduation and beginning my postdoc, I was advised by several reputable and wide-ranging sources to take 2-3 months off if at all possible. It was, so I did.

I approached this time with dread, fearing that in three months away from the bench I would lose pipetting and critical thinking skills alike. That I would swiftly facilitate moving to New Job City and spend two months traveling but mostly bored out of my mind. That is not even remotely what happened.

It took two beastly months to move to New Job City, during which I also became H.K.'s interim administrative assistant as he generously moved his expanding Company to said city. When the dust began to settle, I worked furiously for weeks to transfer medical referrals and authorizations so that I would not miss my next treatment. A nightmare, which culminated yesterday in the most sketch and traumatizing infusion I have ever experienced [in 7 years, y'all].

The "to-read" tower beside my bed has been marginally reduced. Our new domicile now feels like a Home. I have taken up and played a substantial amount of Hearthstone. I've indulged in some delicious wine. Last week, our typical world travel logistics reversed as I followed H.K. to Europe for one of his conventions.

It's been time well-spent, and now that I have one week left before New Job begins, I am feeling a bit of panic. Because contrary to my early anticipation, I am not sure that I'm ready for it to be over. I'm mildly afraid to return to the bench, because although these last three months have been productive, I wanted to do so much more. And concern lingers that I may have forgotten how to pipet or design experiments.

Then, of course, there is the existential deliberation over whether the ability to refrain from reading literature for three months -- excepting the occasional abstract (which shocks me to my core, btw) -- means that I am not a serious scientist.

--

Through all of this, the Crohn's baby has been restless. Unleashing a roller coaster tantrum the likes of which I have not experienced in years. Although I have semi-successfully transitioned to a New Job City Gastroenterologist, and been "controlling" symptoms with diet, over-the-counter and donation-accepting remedies... let's just say I spent plenty of Euros visiting Europe's public toiletten/s.

Latency in Stress-Induced Crohn's Attacks

Folks, grad school is on hiatus for the next few weeks, so there is about to be a lot of straight up Crohn's talk up in hur.

Like most Crohn's (and IBS) attacks, mine have perpetually been the post hoc ergo propter hoc artifacts of stress.  As I have mentioned... somewhere... there is so much constitutively happening during grad school that what time one would ordinarily find to spend stressing out, one instead spends steeped in exhaustion-driven apathy.  While this is generally good for me -- as it would be for anyone with a type A personality in an incredibly demanding job -- there are residual consequences.

For instance, as soon as I stopped working in my new lab and traveled to my most dear childhood home, I was interrupted by a fairly large-scale attack.  Right in the middle of the restaurant.  Then right in the middle of the theater.  Then most of the rest of the evening when we arrived home accompanied by butylscopolamine, peppermint tea and a heating pad.  It was the worst episode I've had since the summer (non-opiate-grade).

It appears that now that I'm not in the midst of academic turbulence, I am beginning to feel the after-effects of the stress that was suppressed during the term.  There are some very serious defects in my program that were, naturally, not apparent until halfway through the term, and which cause a ridiculous amount of unnecessary stress in all of the students.  I had a nightmare last night that a department committee kicked me out of the program (despite the NSF grant, the Badass Student grant that they themselves bestowed upon me, the now five first-author publications, and the fact that three PI's are currently vying for me).  Yes, this is a real fear for most of the first-years in my department -- some of the brightest minds I have ever encountered.  It's why the program is so prestigious -- failing is less than an A-, for which one is put on academic probation and potentially booted from the program.  I never looked at the grades I got on finals because they are so arbitrary that they mean almost nothing and it was an unnecessary agony that I did not need hanging over my break.

These are the concerns that are suppressed during the ebb and flow of the active term, and which are now showing their might through latent Crohn's attacks so that I cannot fully relax during this brief and precious vacation.  Despite really not thinking about school.  I attribute the attack last night to having been asked "how school was going" and making the mistake of actually talking about it.

the traveling Crohn: displacement

Oh, hai.  Just checking in.  Not dead.  Still kickin'.

After a pleasant and leisurely road trip from the PNW, stopping pretty much everywhere in the Bay Area (BA) to see the in-laws and such delightful people as Kara from Sempre and some of H.K.'s childhood friends, and a quick stop in the BA ER for some I.V. and CT scan action (because who could resist?), we did eventually make it to our southern destination last week.  We dragged little bro-in-law down from the BA and unloaded in 1.3 days, and were completely unpacked and settled in after 5.  Relocation machines.

 Good bye PNW.

 

 BA R&R.

Apart from the disaster that was transferring my medical ID and records from PNW Kaiser to So. Cal Kaiser (now 1 week late for Remicade and nowhere near being ready to change treatments as planned, thank you), I am floating head above water in the sea of graduate school entrance paperwork.  No department can seem to agree on what I need to do and in which order... so I just kind of dowhatIwant, and lo' and behold, it's all getting done.  The nice thing about So. Cal is that none of the hassle is really too much of a bother, because, well, the sun is out.

Hullo desert.

H.K. and I bike somewhere new (or new-ish) every day, which is great for my mind and all-too-out-of-shape corpus.  And I fear we are in a never-ending feud as to whether I should drop my PNW roots and start wearing up-the-crack shorts (hoochy mama shorts, I believe they're called) like the rest of the New Home Base community.

Today is the first time I've sat down and really taken a breath.  And by taking a breath I mean worked on my conference poster and discussed experiments [in which I no longer have a hand] with Boss Man, naturally.

Best of all?  The ants know their place here.  They stay outside.  And.  The squirrels that run rampant in the PNW?  They're bunny rabbits here.  Everywhere.  As being displaced from the land and people you love goes, it's glorious.  Bring on the science.

rollin' in the deep

Is there ever a better time for your whole world to come crashing around you than three days before a move to a new life?  Nope.  The universe knows this and plans accordingly, I'm pretty sure.

In recent events, we have the following:
a) rotting sewage pipes and the stank from hell rising from the depths of our kitchen foundation for three months and the current stank-free-but-Frankensteinian state of my unusable kitchen,
b) coworker fiascos and consequences of arrogance in abundance,
c) three days left to pack a three-bdrm apt. to travel 1009 miles,
d) credit card fraud,
d) officially failed performance of Remicade and inability to make a treatment adjustment until after the move,
e) exponentially increased anxiety over the grad school decision and heavy sadness surrounding leaving Boss Man,
d) and a loved one's confession of narcotics addiction at t minus three days to departure.

Really?  Srsly?

The Crohn's is having a field day with this.  Nightly attacks, almost constant nausea, diet of primarily saltines, not much sleeping to speak of.

Almost on the beach... almost on the beach... almost on the beach...