For years, I've admired colleagues and awesome vet mommas juggle motherhood and navigating conventions. I've watched them listen intently during sessions while breastfeeding, pump in women's restrooms, take calls in hallways with a baby on their hip, all while seeming put together with styled hair, makeup, and business casual attire. Watching these women rock motherhood was so encouraging to me in my first few years at conventions because I knew I wanted children someday. They made it look graceful and effortless. At this year's MVMA convention, it was my turn to attempt to be that put-together mom with a young baby at a convention. I had two things on my side this year. First, the convention was being held in Columbia, just thirty miles from where we live. I wouldn't have to spend money on a hotel room, even if that meant no cable TV. This also meant I wouldn't have to consider everything baby and I would possibly need for an entire weekend and load up the truck with tons of stuff. Second, I wouldn't be attending the full convention. My associate was off call during the convention, which meant I would float in and out of the convention when I wasn't working and attend the board meetings that I had to. This took some of the pressure off. I did have a bit more responsibility than normal. As Vice President of the MAVP (the continuing education arm of the MVMA), I was to give a presentation during the Mini Topics Thursday night. The smart thing to do would have been to write the presentation when I was still pregnant. It's surprisingly difficult to write even a 20-minute presentation with a young infant in your home. And I thought writing blog posts was tough! Type a few paragraphs, feed baby, type some more, change diaper, pray baby goes to sleep but play with him instead because he's feeling active, do some research, feed baby again, and the list goes on. You get the picture. As a mother, I feel like I have about 10-minute increments to perform any given task. I'm usually thankful if I can go for a 15 minute run and shower all in the same evening as my baby cluster feeds when I get home from work. Through it all, I finished my presentation with a few days to spare. The next challenge was practicing my presentation. Leland loves it when I read to him, so I thought he would love to hear me present my topic to him. Turns out Goodnight Moon and Ferdinand the Bull are infinitely more entertaining than “Life As A Young Practice Owner.” Turns out he doesn't like my presentation voice (or probably the content) and screamed every time I would practice. I had a little more luck when I used some higher pitched baby talk, but I thought my colleagues might think I was being condescending if it turned into a habit and boo me right out of the session. My first challenge of going to a convention, however, would be finding something to wear. At three months postpartum, the question wasn't whether most of them fit, but would it fit right. Breastfeeding moms know the struggle of dealing with a different shaped upper body. If you wear something too loose, it hangs off of you like a sack and you look bigger than reality. Wear something too tight and you look like a porn star. No longer could I just go through my closet and just assume things fit right, especially while limiting myself to the business casual style. Unfortunately, I couldn't use my go-to leggings with an oversized sweatshirt. After trying on about seven outfits, I finally found something that looked presentable for the first night of the convention. My husband accompanied me (with baby in tow) to the first night of the convention to hear my presentation. My baby didn't have a melt down during any of the talks (including my own), and I didn't get called out to pull a calf. Towards the end of the sessions, Leland woke up from his nap and started motorboating me (he's not very subtle), so that was our cue to leave. I considered it a success that we made it through 75% of the topics. My next go-round at the convention was Saturday, where I had to rush after work to make the MAVP Luncheon. As an officer, I had to make a few statements during the luncheon, but luckily I had a script. I recommend having a script when you have mom brain. At the conclusion of the meeting, a colleague pointed at my stomach and said, “I see congratulations are in order.” I then had a rep at a table also mistake me for still being pregnant. Ironically, I had seen both of these people a few months ago when I was VERY pregnant. Did I enter a time warp of some kind?! I'm pretty sure most women have had individuals mistake them as pregnant, many while pushing their baby in a stroller. I'm going to start a rant right here. I'm going to recommend that when it comes to commenting on a pregnancy, people (and I'm mainly directing this at men because let's face it, you're usually the ones idiotic enough to make such comments anyway) should hold their tongue unless 1) They have first-hand knowledge of the pregnancy, 2) The woman brings it up first (see rule number one), or 3) The baby is coming through the birth canal. Otherwise, bring up the weather, or anything really besides commenting on someone else's body. Just. Don't. For my fellow women out there, remember that some people do not think before they speak, so take it in stride and punch a wall when you get home. Okay, that concludes my rant. I feel much better now. On the bright side, I had another rep exclaim that I must be elastic after having a child. He probably just wanted to sell me something, but I'll take it nonetheless. One very positive thing I would like to bring up is the MVMA and Holiday Inn’s excellent support of lactating mothers. Despite not having a room at the hotel, I had access to a nursing room (basically a regular hotel room) for the days I attended the convention free of charge. I had envisioned trying to find an outlet to pump in a women's restroom and having to pack numerous disinfectant wipes. This was a wonderful, convenient accommodation for me (and Leland). After the luncheon, I chatted with some fellow classmates and headed to a talk on the economics of the beef cattle industry. I received a text about halfway through the session from my husband. He was rolling up to the hotel with a hungry baby. I snuck out of the session and headed to the nursing room. If I made it through 35 minutes of a session, does it still count as a full hour of CE. I looked at some of the older vets sleeping during the session and decided it did. I let my husband watch hockey while I fed the baby instead of making him sit through Real Housewives, a small reward for watching our baby all weekend. My husband and Leland headed home after a while, and I stuck around for a few more sessions and the pre-banquet socializing. My retired former partner, Dr. Vroman, was nice enough to buy me a glass of wine. Apparently, after almost a year of hardly drinking anything, my tolerance was quite low. After drinking one glass, I had to stick around the hotel for almost two hours before I felt comfortable driving home. I then realized that part of the problem was I hadn't eaten since lunch. So I hit up the Hyvee salad bar (*cough cough* the Taco Bell drive-thru) on the way home. I came home to my smiling baby and wonderful husband. I decided against attending sessions Sunday morning. After being gone all weekend, I needed some time with my little family. I consider my first convention as a new mom a success. I learned that session breaks aren't near long enough to pump, nursing rooms are the bomb, don't wear heels and drink wine (even just one glass), maternity dress pants are awesome, and it's actually okay to skip out on some things, or miss part of it, or sleep through it. I’ve always thought that when it comes to conventions, you learn more from talking to your colleagues than attending sessions anyway. So basically, if you can’t make it to a convention at all, then you should probably just plan a happy hour at the local Mexican restaurant and talk, complain, scheme, and let’s not forget, take over the world after a pitcher of margaritas has been emptied.
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Jessica Stroupe, DVM
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August 2017
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