Online Grad School While Having a Newborn Baby

I wasn't married when I got to MIT, simply I had a boyfriend named Randy who moved up to Boston with me. Two years in, we discover that it is, in fact, possible to simultaneously plan a nuptials and write a master's thesis! Two years afterwards that? I'm sitting uncomfortably in a floppy hospital gown at Mt. Auburn Hospital using my husband's phone to forward the reviews I'd simply received on a recent journal paper submission, hoping labor doesn't kick in total force before I finish canceling all my meetings and telling people that I'll be taking maternity leave a month sooner than expected.

Babe Elian is born afterwards that dark, tiny and perfect. The adjacent three weeks are spent writing my PhD proposal from the waiting room while we wait for Elian to grow big enough to leave the hospital's nursery.

Our decision to accept a baby during grad school did not come lightly. For a lot of students, grad school falls smack in the middle of prime mate-finding and babe-making years. Only my husband and I knew nosotros wanted kids. We knew fertility decreases over time, and didn't want to wait besides long. In 2016, I was done with classes, on to the purely research role of the PhD program. My schedule was as flexible every bit information technology would ever exist. Plus, I work with computers and robots -- no cell cultures to go along alive, no chemicals I'd be concerned about while pregnant. Randy did applied science contract work (some for a professor at MIT) and was working on a small startup.

Was information technology the perfect fourth dimension? As a fellow grad mom told me once, there'south never a perfect fourth dimension. Have babies when you're ready. That's it.

Okay, we agreed, now's the time. It'd exist nifty, right? Nosotros'd take this adorable baby, then Randy would stay dwelling house near of the fourth dimension and play with the infant while I finished up schoolhouse. He'd even have fourth dimension in the evenings and on weekends to continue his piece of work.

Naiveté, hello.

Since my pregnancy was relatively easy (I got lucky -- fifty-fifty my officemate's pickled cabbage and fermented fish didn't turn my tum), nosotros were optimistic that everything else would go well, too. The preterm birth was a surprise, sure, but maybe that was a fluke in our perfectly planned family hazard. Then it came time for me to go back to the lab full time.

I'd read nigh attachment theory in psychology papers -- i.e., the idea that babies form deep emotional bonds to their caregivers, in particular, their mothers. Cool theory, interesting implications virtually social relationships based on the kind of bail babies formed, and all that. Information technology wasn't until the end of my maternity leave, when I handed our wailing three-calendar month-old male child to my husband before walking out the door that I internalized it: Elian wasn't just lamentable that I was going abroad. He needed me. I mean, looking at it from an evolutionary perspective, it fabricated perfect sense. There I was, his primary source of food, shelter, and condolement, walking in the opposite management. He had no idea where I was going or whether I'd be back. If I were him, I'd wail, besides.

United states: 0. Developmental psychology: 1.

This was going to be more hard than we'd thought. For various financial and personal reasons, we had already decided not to put the babe in daycare. Other people'southward stories ("when he started daycare, he cried for a month, but then he got used to it") weren't our loving cup of tea. Simply our plans of me spending my days in the lab while the infant was back at home? Not so much. In addition to Elian'southward distress at my absence, he generally refused pumped breast milk in favor of crying, hungry and sad.

So, nosotros fabricated new plans. These plans involved bringing Elian to the lab a lot (pretty easy at first: he'd happily wiggle on my desk for hours, entertained by his toes). Coincidentally, that's when I began to experience pressure to testify that what we're doing works. That I can exercise it. That I can be a woman, who has a babe, who'south getting a PhD at MIT, who's salubrious and happy and "having it all". "Having it all." No matter what I option, kids or piece of work or whatever, I'm making a choice about what'due south important. We all take limited time. What "all" do I want? What do I cull to practice with my time? And am I happy with that pick?

Randy, Elian at viii months (sporting his lab t-shirt!), and I.

Now, Elian's grown upwardly wearing a Media Arts & Sciences onesie and a Personal Robots Group t-shirt. I'm fortunate that I tin can do this -- I accept a super supportive lab group and I know this definitely wouldn't piece of work for everyone. Not simply does our group do a lot of research with young kids, but my counselor has three kids of her ain. My officemate has a six-year-old who I've watched grow up. Several other students have gotten married or had kids during their time here. As a bonus, the Media Lab has a pod for nursing mothers on the fifth floor, and a couple bathrooms even have changing tables. (That said, information technology's then much faster to just set the baby on the floor, whip off the old diaper, on with the new. If he tries to crawl abroad mid-change, every bit is his wont these days, he tin only get and then far as nether my desk.)

Randy comes to campus more than now, too. It's a common sight to see him from the Media Lab's drinking glass-walled conference rooms, pacing the hallway with a sleeping baby in a carry pack while he answers emails on his tablet. I feed the babe betwixt meetings, play for a while when Randy needs to run over to the Green Building for a contractor meeting, and it works out okay. We keep Elian from licking the robots and Elian makes friends from around the world, all of whom are fashion taller than he is. The best part? He's almost through the developmental phase in which he bursts into tears when he sees them!

I also take the luxury of working from dwelling a lot. That'south helped by two things: first, right now, I'1000 either writing lawmaking or writing papers -- i.eastward., laptop? check. Good to go. 2d, my lab has undergone structure multiple times the past year, so no 1 else wants to work there either with all the hammering and pigment fumes.

But it's not all sunshine, wobbly get-go steps, and happy baby coos.

I remember it's harder to be a parent in grad school as a woman. I know several guys who have kids; they can still manage a whole day -- or three -- of working non-stop, sleeping on a lab couch, all-night hacking sessions, attending conferences in Europe for a week while the infant stays home. Me? Sometimes, if I'm out of sight for v minutes, Elian loses information technology. Sometimes, we make it three hours. Some nights, waking up to breastfeed a distressing, grumpy, teething baby, information technology'due south like I'm also pulling all-nighters, simply without the getting work done office.

Times when I'1000 feeling overwhelmed, I call up a fictional girl named Keladry. The protagonist of Tamora Pierce's Protector of the Small-scale quartet, she was the commencement girl in the kingdom to openly try to go a knight -- traditionally a human being'south profession (run across the parallel to academia?) . She followed the footsteps of another girl, Alanna, who opened the ranks by pretending to be a boy throughout her training, revealing her identity simply when she was knighted. I recall Keladry considering of the discipline and perseverance she embodied.

I remember her feeling that she had to be stronger, faster, and better than all the boys, considering she wasn't only representing herself, she was representing all girls. Sometimes, I feel the aforementioned: That as a grad mom, I'm representing all grad moms. I take to exist a part model. I take to stick it out, show that not simply do I measure upwards, but that I can excel, despite being a female parent. Because of existence a mother. I have to bear witness that information technology'south a betoken in our favor, not a mark confronting us.

I think Keladry'southward discipline: getting upward early to train extra hard, working longer to make sure she exceeded the standard. I remember her standing alpine in the face of bullies, trying to stay potent when others told her she wasn't good enough and wouldn't make it.

So I get up earlier, writing paper drafts in the dawn low-cal with a sleeping baby nestled beside me. I debug code when he naps (even at fourteen months, he still naps twice a day, lucky me). I train UROPs, run experimental studies, analyze data, and publish papers. I push on. I don't take to face up down bullies similar Keladry, and I'm fortunate to have a lot of support at MIT. But sometimes, it's still a struggle.

When I was talking through my ideas for this blog with other writers, one person said, "I'chiliad not sure how you lot do it." I didn't have a adept answer then, but here'southward what I should have said: I practise it with the assistance of a super supportive married man, a potent commitment to the life choices I've made, and a large supply of earl grayness tea.

heinemanthros1965.blogspot.com

Source: https://gradadmissions.mit.edu/blog/phd-and-baby

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