One year of Motherhood!

Photo credit: Robin Skievaski Photography

It is blowing my mind that I have been a mom for a whole year now! It is true what they say, that time flies when you have children/child. No other year in my life has flown by as fast. It has been a year of adjusting, learning, stressing, and growing. I have learned so much about myself this year. I can honestly say that Hazel has changed me, and for the better. I would never be who I am today if I had not had her.

Some things that I have learned in my first year of Motherhood:

Anxiety is real
I knew about anxiety and that I had it well before having a baby. (My story here.) BUT, anxiety became real in my every day life after having a baby, unlike it ever was before. Everyone talks about postpartum depression, but no one really talks about postpartum anxiety. I was prepared for depression. In fact, I had experienced a little pregnancy depression so I was on high alert for postpartum depression. It never hit though, instead, anxiety crept in and took over my life. I was so anxious that I struggled to leave the house for the first five months. Anxiety is SO REAL, and can be extremely debilitating.

Women friendships are huge
I feel so lucky to have given birth in my hometown. I had the support of childhood girlfriends, college girlfriends, and newer girlfriends from the last few years. The women in my life have been incredible and have shown me just how important it is to support each other. From meals, to long conversations, to rocking my screaming baby, to late night texting, to helping me get out of the house, to inviting me over for wine, I appreciate all of my women friendships 10x more now. I honestly could not have survived this first year without them.

Support is important
Yeah yeah, this one is a given, BUT REALLY, support from friends and family was/is so important. I was horrible at asking for help in the beginning, but I am getting better at it. What I am learning is that people want to help, it makes them feel good to help. So why not let them? They say it takes a village to raise a child and that is so true. I am happy to have our friends be such a big part of Hazel's and our life.

"Me" time is necessary
I'm not going to lie, I loooove "me" time. This was something that I worried about before having Hazel. The older I get, the more happy I am to do things by myself. In fact, it brings me joy and gives me energy to spend time on my own without other people. After having Hazel, my life was ruled by a baby hanging off of me that needed me 24/7. I quickly realized that in order to stay sane I would need to make time for me. It started slowly with 10 minutes here, then 30 minutes there, then an hour, a few hours, finally a whole day at daycare. I felt and still feel guilty about putting Hazel in daycare since she doesn't need to be there, but I am a better person for it. It allows me the much needed "me" time (even if I am just doing laundry and running errands) to regenerate energy, and it allows her time to be social and play with other kids. So really, "me" time is a win win situation for both Hazel and me.

Spouse admiration
This one is huge, whoa baby! I've known Andy since I was 13, and while we have both changed a lot through the years, I figured I knew everything about him. Not true though, I had no idea how he would be with a baby, but he has exceeded my expectations! I am learning just how great of a father he is. I love to hear him tell Hazel stories in different voices and rock her to sleep, I love that he airplane's her food to her mouth and plays with her toys. When I see Andy caring for Hazel and loving her it makes my heart grow for him in ways that I didn't think possible. Now more than ever, he is my partner and best friend. We are in this together and we are figuring out how to be good parents and how to support and love each other through it.

Flexibility is key 
Soo...I thought I was a pretty flexible person before having a baby, but I am discovering that is not so true after all. I am learning that I had a lot of expectations in my head about how having a baby would be. Then, things didn't go as planned (ahem, breastfeeding) and I fought the flow of things to the point of stressing myself out. So, now I am learning to go with the flow and be more flexible. Things will not always go as planned and in that case I just need to accept the change and move on or make adjustments. This is a work in progress. :)

Love is a learned thing
Being on facebook often, I see people announce the birth of their child by saying that they are already "so in love". This was not the case for me. Yes, I loved my baby, but I was not "in love" with her. In fact, I was not even attached to her. I had no problem handing her over to someone else for minutes or even hours. I also never worried about her until more recently. It was a huge concern to me that I was not "in love" with my daughter, but I learned that over time love grows. Despite the crying, the long nights, the frustration, I slowly began to love my daughter more and more. At about the 6-month mark I was happily (and finally) in love with my child. And that love just keeps on growing as our relationship as mother and daughter grows. I feel like our attachment is healthy and real, it just needed time.

Change is real
This is also a work in progress. Having a baby was the LARGEST life change that I have ever experienced. It was more of a change than I think I was ready for, but ready or not it happened. In a very naive way I figured life would go back to normal after Hazel was born. I figured my body would go back to normal, my social life would go back to normal, and I would just haul this little baby along in my normal life. NOPE, wrong. My body will never be the same again. While I have lost most of the baby weight, I am softer than before. This is a change that takes some getting used to. :) And as for social life, well that is constantly changing. When Hazel was a tiny baby we had about 1-2 hour increments to be social before she broke down and all hell let lose. As she gets older we have more time to be social, but now we work around nap and bed times. Going to restaurants is becoming difficult because she likes to throw food and make a huge mess. So I am learning that life with a baby (now toddler) is just constantly changing. As soon as we develop a routine it is changed because of teething or crawling or this or that. Bottom line, having a child means CONSTANT change.

All of these things I have learned and will continue to learn as I grow in Motherhood. But really, what a gift it is to be a mother!

My History with Anxiety

It seems like people are talking more and more about anxiety these days. I love it! It makes me so happy that issues kept quiet in the past are now common talk. I think it helps everyone to be able to openly discuss something like anxiety. I've said it before and I'll say it again, this blog has mostly become a place for me to process life and speak my truth. I am happy for other people to read it, and in doing so I hope that I can be helpful or even motivational.

So anxiety... I get a little anxious even just typing that out, ha! Anxiety can surface in a variety of ways. For me, it appears in jitters, stomach flips, vision loss, sometimes flushing of the skin, and last but not least, panic attacks. My anxiety didn't show up until my parents divorce when I was about 19 years old. Since then it has come and gone with the events that have happened in my life. Here is my story of anxiety thus far.

At 19 years old and a freshman in my second semester of college my parents decided to get a divorce. This divorce came out of NOWHERE! I had no idea my parents were having problems. My family was a solid missionary family, we were the model of the perfect Christian family. Seriously, I had often thought that my family was too perfect. Well, not so. I won't go into all the details, but long story short my parents got a divorce because my mom was gay and felt like she couldn't live the lie of a straight marriage anymore. Both of my brothers were upset so I felt like it was up to me to stay strong. I put on a happy face and pretended like everything was ok, but deep down everything was very very messed up. This is when the anxiety started.

I went to a small college in a small community where a lot of people knew me and my family. After the divorce I was afraid to look people in the face for fear that I would see pity in their eyes. I did NOT want to be pitied for the tragedy that my family had become. I also knew that people didn't approve of my mom's "gayness", so I also didn't want to see those looks of disapproval. (Though, I did see plenty of those looks.) Avoiding people that knew my family was impossible, so the anxiety began to creep in. Anytime I saw or spoke with someone that knew of my parents divorce I felt like my insides were rotting and on fire. My eyes would often blur or my vision just went black sometimes. It was an incredibly crippling feeling. So to get past it I just ignored as many people as I could. Or I drank, or smoked weed. Those helped for a short amount of time, but the relief was never long term.

The summer after my freshman year of college I moved to the beach. I had escaped! At first it felt really good. I didn't know anyone, the anxiety was gone, I felt like I could start over. As the summer went on though, I began to miss my family desperately. I felt like I had just abandoned them for my own sanity and it felt wrong. Then I had my first panic attack. I was driving and another car cut in front of me. It was nothing, no accident, not even close. But it set something off inside of me. I freaked out, then my vision began to go black, and all of a sudden my fists clenched. Luckily I was able to pull my car over and just barely got it into park before I lost all control of my body. From that point, my whole body seized up. It felt like every single muscle in my body was fully tensed. My fists were clenched so tight that my nails were digging into my skin. My chest was heavy and I couldn't breathe. I had to gasp for air. All the while my vision was blacked out and I couldn't see anything. I honestly thought I was dying. Everything inside of me felt like it was failing. Luckily a passing car stopped and called 911. An ambulance came and got me. They loaded me into the ambulance and calmed me down on the way to the hospital. Once my breathing was under control everything went back to normal in my body. I could see again and my fists unclenched. They told me I had a panic attack. After that, I moved back home for the rest of the summer.

Throughout that summer I had two more pretty sever panic attacks, both while I was driving. I began carrying a brown paper bag with me everywhere I went in case I needed to breathe into it to get my breath back to normal. It was a rough summer, especially as my parents finalized their divorce and put our house up for sale. I had anxiety for the rest of college, and a few more panic attacks. I figured out how to manage the panic attacks, but the anxiety never went away.

Since college I have worked SO HARD at managing my anxiety. It comes and goes. If there is a big event in my life it usually comes back pretty severely. When I got married, a wedding was out of the question for me. I knew it would bring on all sorts of anxiety, so Andy and I eloped. While I am sad that we never had a wedding, I do feel like I dodged a huge bullet and was able to escape a lot of anxiety and stress. Big family events still bring on a lot of anxiety, but at least I am not the center of attention, so the anxiety is manageable.

When I gave birth to Hazel I had an inkling that my anxiety may come back, and it sure did. After bringing Hazel home the anxiety settled in like a dark cloud. Not a depressing cloud, just an uptight anxious one. I was anxious about leaving the house, anxious about breastfeeding, anxious about visitors. Pretty much everything caused me severe anxiety, and I was so overwhelmed with having a newborn that I couldn't control the anxiety like I had in the past. When Andy had to go back to working out of town during the week, my anxiety would get so bad right before he left that I would vomit. It was embarrassing and I was so overwhelmed. I didn't even tell Andy at the time that I was anxious because I was embarrassed for feeling out of control of myself. While Andy was gone all week I would just hole up in the house with Hazel out of fear of leaving the house. If we needed something, too bad, I wasn't leaving.

I finally realized that my anxiety was taking over my life. I began setting small goals for myself to leave the house with Hazel. Slowly, little by little, I got out more. In the beginning it felt horrible and wrong, but I left the house anyway. Then I started to exercise and eat better. That's when I noticed a HUGE difference in my anxiety. I began feeling more confident, more healthy, and that helped with leaving the house. I didn't mind talking to strangers anymore, or doing multiple errands in one day. I still have anxiety, but I finally feel like it is under control again. I don't think my anxiety will ever completely go away, but I know how to control it for the most part. Now I also know that exercise helps with it, SO MUCH. I am happy to constantly be arming myself with little things to combat my anxiety.

Some things that I find are helpful when I am anxious:
-I have taken this before and helps calm me down in a very gradual way.
-I like to pop these (ha!) before a job interview. They really work with my stomach nerves!
-I've great things about Zenta, but I haven't tried it yet.
-I also like to put a penny or any other coin in my pocket and play with it as a distraction to whatever may be causing my anxiety.

Finally...A Birth Story

Now that I am 8 months past giving birth I finally feel like the trauma is gone! Since giving birth, many of my friends have had babies and I can now confidently say that I think the whole process is beautiful and magical. Looking back at my newly postpartum blog posts, I surely did NOT think anything about having a baby was beautiful. I have finally come around though!

I want to record the birth story of Hazel before it slips my memory too much. I know big parts of it have already dissolved from my memory, and I'm sure Andy would dispute the way I tell the story, but this is my birth story and how I remember it. Be forewarned, I wrote out the long version. :)

I was diagnosed with melanoma just a few weeks before my due date. It was a mole that had spread and become discolored. Luckily we caught it early, so all they would have to do was a minor surgery to remove the mole and a large area around it. The surgeon did not want to perform the surgery until I had delivered my baby though. I passed this news on to my midwife and OB who then consulted a variety of other doctors about this issue. They concluded that it would be best to induce me so that I could have the baby before the melanoma spread or got any worse. I was induced the same day they made that decision. Andy and I had approximately 5 hours to prepare our house and ourselves to welcome a new baby. Eeek!

So it was two and half weeks before my due date that I was induced. I had an appointment early afternoon where my midwife swept my membranes. (Don't ask what that is, because I really don't know.) It was uncomfortable and I actually felt contractions start immediately. She said that might happen. Then I went home to clean the house before heading into the hospital for my actual induction. All afternoon I had light contractions while I cleaned like a crazy person.

At 5pm Andy and I checked into the hospital and I was given Cervadil. I had already been having contractions, but the Cervadil was supposed to ease me into labor even more. That night I slept a few hours through light contractions. I woke around 5am pumped full of adrenaline because I knew we were going to have a baby that day. Unfortunately, my contractions were still very light, so they left the Cervadil in for another 6 hours. Since my labor was light we decided to let a few visitors stop by. We joked about painful labor and had a pretty good time despite my contractions slowly getting stronger. Once all the visitors had left, Andy and I decided to walk laps. We walked and walked and walked around the labor unit! This helped and definitely brought on stronger contractions to the point where I would have to stop walking, grasp the railing on the wall, and moan my way through the contraction. It was quite dramatic!

Around 4pm we went back to the laboring room because walking was too exhausting for me. At that point I bounced on a ball, rolled around the bed, moaned like a banshee, vomited, cried, rolled around the bed some more, and finally I got into the whirlpool. The whirlpool was pure bliss. I was able to relax, but unfortunately that just made my contractions come on even stronger. After an hour they forced me out of the whirlpool to check my progress. I was butt naked, dripping wet, shaking, crying, and moan-yelling. I was a complete mess!! When they checked me I was 6cm...only 6cm after 24 hours. This came as a huge disappointment to me, as I was in the most miserable pain I had ever been in.

 Andy thought this was funny and texted it to all of our friends...he didn't mention it until after I gave birth. (shame on him!)

 

Despite not wanting to get an epidural, I was at my wits end. On a pain scale of 1-10 I was a 12! I didn't know that kind of pain even existed. The pain was so bad that I was shaking uncontrollably and felt like I had zero control of myself. Through shaking and yell-moaning from pain I demanded an epidural. They said the anesthesiologist was with another patient and couldn't come for another 15-20 minutes. That was unacceptable to me. I told the nurse I would die if I had to wait that long, so she hooked me up to IV pain meds. The IV helped, though I just felt like I was high and in pain at the same time...definitely a strange experience.

A funny picture we took while friends were visiting, before my contractions were bad.

Around 6pm the anesthesiologist came in and politely explained the procedure to me while I balled my eyes out and vomited again. I was in immense pain, but I was also scared of getting an epidural. After some more drama from me, I finally sat still and got the epidural. It was a piece of cake and I really didn't feel anything. Very quickly my body numbed, the pain went away, and a feeling of peace flooded my exhausted body. It was like night and day. I fell into a deep sleep. Around 8pm I was 8cm dilated so they broke my water...I didn't feel a thing. Though apparently I pooped myself, lovely. I slept for a few more hours and around 10:45pm I woke up to the midwife checking my progress and saying, "Ohh, you are having this baby right now!"

A flood of nurses came into the room, two giant spotlights were turned on, my feet were placed in stirrups, and we were having a baby! I was not prepared at all. In fact I asked if it absolutely had to happen at that moment, ha. I had been sleeping and was out of it. I felt like I needed a good hour to process what was about to happen, but no such luck, they could already see the head! Everything was very frantic. Andy held my one leg, a nurse held the other, and the midwife was at the base of the bed. My body was still very numb, but I could feel a strange painful pressure in my lower abdomen. They had me hooked up to the monitor to see when my contractions were coming, and it felt like I had a contraction every 30 seconds, no lie. I pushed hard and strong and intensely while everyone yelled at me for a good 15 minutes. (Seriously, it felt like chaos.) Right before the last push I vomited one last time, just for good measure...and then, Hazel was born! Just like that. 11:07pm, 30 hours after my labor had started.

They put Hazel on my chest, but she wasn't crying so they gave her a good shake and sure enough she started wailing. Andy jumped into bed with me and we all had a good cry....and now I can see the beauty and magic in birth. The end. (Or rather beginning.) :)

Dealing with Baby Weight...

Bear with me while I rant about my weight...Or, skip to the bottom of the page for some humor.

I have been keeping track of my postpartum progress including the physical, mental/emotional aspects, and I seem to be improving everywhere except for the weight loss category. I am five months postpartum and something has got to give! My pregnancy weight gain was only 20 pounds, and while that isn't much, I haven't lost a single pound of it. About 1-week after giving birth I had lost half the weight and felt great. I was even doing yoga and taking walks around the neighborhood. Five weeks after giving birth though, I had gained all the pregnancy weight back. I am completely baffled by it! Why on earth am I still the same weight as I was at 9-months pregnant?! I guess I'll blame it on hormones, stress, less sleep...etc?

People like to say, "don't be so hard on yourself, you just had a baby", or "the weight will come off, just give it time", or "it took 9-months to put the weight on so it will take 9-months for it to come off". While I appreciate people being positive and supportive, those comments don't help. Instead, why don't you tell me about a great workout program, or a diet pill that works, maybe give me some healthy recipes to try, heck- why don't you just cook me a healthy meal? Unfortunately, those things are not happening, so it is in my hands to deal with this.

I am tired of not fitting into any of my clothes, I am tired of aches and pains most likely caused by extra weight that my body is not used to, and I am tired of feeling bad about my body. Before I got pregnant I loved my body, even the flaws. In fact, I really didn't care that much about how I looked. I felt good, and my clothes fit, so I was happy with my body. End of story. Now though, I am having body image feelings that I haven't had before! These are feelings that I can't turn off. I know that I grew a whole human and then pushed her out, but somehow in my head that doesn't justify the body that I currently have. It isn't so much the lumps and bumps that bother me, but the size that I am. It is a size I have never been and I don't like it! And my breasts...don't even get me started. I fear I may never see perky breasts again!

So now that I have gotten all my whining out of the way, here's what I am going to do about it. I am going to lose the weight! Maybe it will take me all of the 9-months, maybe it won't. I am tired of sitting on the sidelines "being a mom" and waiting for my body to go back to normal. This blog post is a motivation for me to get to work on losing the baby weight. It is my hope that by you reading it I will be held accountable to lose the weight.

Now for some humor...

A few days ago I went to the gym (go me!) and I jogged(!!) for the first time since having a baby and gaining 20 pounds. Let me tell you, I am not a runner. I struggle to run. I dislike running. However, I was invited to a "run 100 miles this year" group, so I joined and I started. Yikes, it was interesting... Let me just say, my breasts are currently NOT built for running...neither is my butt. I never could have dreamed that I would be one of those women jogging with bouncing boobs practically hitting me in the face. (Is that even possible?) Talk about uncomfortable. I may look into duck taping my bra before the next running attempt. But it wasn't just my boobs, it was my butt too!! Never, NEVER, have I felt my butt cheeks flop around while jogging! It was a strange sensation. At first, I thought it was my t-shirt hitting the backs of my legs. After a few shirt adjustments I quickly realized it was not a wardrobe malfunction, it was MY BUTT CHEEKS flopping around! Can you imagine the horror? No really? Never have I imagined such a sensation! I almost stopped right then and there, just got off the treadmill and walked away pretending like it never happened. -But I didn't! I ran the mile, and then walked a second mile after that.

So all of this to say: I had a baby, my body isn't the same, but I'm going to do something about it. If it takes flopping butt cheeks and bouncing boobs to get there, then so be it.

_________________________

Edit: A few months later and I finally found something that worked for losing the baby weight. I feel amazing and have lost 18 pounds, not to mention I am SO much more healthy now. Check out my story here.

A Breastfeeding Story

This is a story that I have tried to sit down and write numerous times. Each time it is too painful to get anything down, so I have successfully pushed it aside until now. It is a story about pain in my heart, guilt, and shame. I wasn't even going to write this story, but I feel that I should so that it can be a support to others who have had/are having the same issues.

Before giving birth...no, before even getting pregnant, I knew I would breastfeed. To me, breastfeeding was the most natural, beautiful thing that a mother and her new baby could do together. I dreamt about it and couldn't wait until I was able to breastfeed my own baby someday. When I got pregnant I was sick and uncomfortable and unsure about giving birth, but more than anything I was excited about breastfeeding. I was sure that breastfeeding was where I would find joy in this whole process of having a baby.

After giving birth they placed Hazel on my bare chest. I asked the nurse if I should try to breastfeed and she said "no, wait until the baby finds your breast and she will nurse on her own time". An hour passed and Hazel had not found her way to my breast. They took her to clean her, weigh her, get her vitals etc., then she came back to me and I put her to my breast. Nothing happened. All of the beauty and magic that I believed would surround Hazel and me during our first time breastfeeding was not there. With each try to get her to latch, then each fail, my heart broke.

Over the next few days in the hospital I continued to try to breastfeed Hazel. I had a variety of lactation specialists come in and help me. They said I had flat nipples, so I was given a nipple shield. That helped, but Hazel's latch wasn't very good and my milk wasn't coming in as quickly as I thought it would.

We took our new baby home and promptly had an appointment with the pediatrician. Hazel had lost about a pound since being born (down to 5 pounds!) and needed to gain weight. My milk still had not come in. I was given instructions to drink dark beer, take fenugreek, drink mother's milk tea, use brewers yeast in cooking etc. I tried it all...still, my milk didn't come in. Hazel was not gaining weight and screamed day and night, probably due to hunger.

Breastfeeding was becoming frustrating. Where was the magic, the feel-good-feelings, the bonding? None of that was happening. I was taken over with sadness and stress by the whole situation. We were at the pediatrician every other day weighing Hazel and trying to get her to feed properly so that my milk would come in. She was diagnosed with a tongue AND lip tie. We had the tongue-tie corrected and that helped with her latch, but she still was not nursing well. She would cry at my breast, then I would cry. My days were filled with trying to breastfeeding, then pumping about a 1/2 ounce, repeat...all-day-long.

After a month of very little weight gain for Hazel, my milk STILL not fully in, an emotionally drained me, and a very cranky baby, we resorted to formula. When I began to supplement breastfeeding with formula, Hazel started to gain weight. She didn't stop crying, but she was gaining weight. I had overwhelming feelings of guilt giving her formula, but at the same time relief because she was gaining weight. All the while I was still trying to increase my supply in the hopes that Hazel would exclusively breastfeed.

At month-two Hazel's weight was still very low. She was gaining, but not enough. So the pediatrician and I went back to the drawing board. I took Hazel to the hospital for lab work, it came back fine. The pediatrician suspected a milk allergy so I cut out all dairy from my diet and we changed her formula to a hypoallergenic brand. Finally, finally Hazel's weight gain picked up and she started crying less. Over the next month Hazel had packed on a few pounds and wasn't crying at all anymore. It truly felt like a miracle!

Through this whole process though, what little milk supply I had tanked. I started with very little supply which has slowly gone down to just a few drops. Hazel is 95% fed on hypoallergenic formula. She uses my breast mostly as comfort once a day, sometimes none. I am happy that she is fed, growing, and content now, but I still feel pangs of guilt and sadness that it is not my body feeding her. We have not been able to have the breastfeeding relationship that I so desperately hoped for. The only way I am getting through this is by telling myself that she is getting fed and that is what's important.

So here I am, five months after giving birth, mourning something that I never really had. I had hoped breastfeeding would be the joy that I was seeking in this whole process of having a baby, but it has been the opposite. I have never felt so hopeless, stressed, and sad about anything else in my life as I have felt about breastfeeding. And that, is my breastfeeding story. It may be the biggest heartbreak of my life thus far.

5-month Postpartum Truths

 

Wow, I haven't written a post like this since I was 6-weeks postpartum! I guess I haven't had time. I also haven't had the head-space to organize my thoughts. I have so many postpartum thoughts these days and this post hardly brushes the surface. Shew-whee, where to begin...

5 months ago I gave birth. I have since forgotten the pain, but there is still trauma. I have to admit though, I am more traumatized by being pregnant than giving birth. The birth came and went in 30 meager hours, done. Pregnancy however, seemed like it lasted half of my life! Thank.goodness.that.is.over!! Despite not being pregnant anymore, I am still horrified by the experience. That just goes to show how sick and uncomfortable I was. I am not a fan of surrendering my body to nine months of uncontrollable reactions and growth.

On to somewhat more pleasant things. Hazel, is a doll. No literally she looks like a doll. It's a good thing she is cute, because she definitely tried our patience those first three months. It is one thing to have a new baby and adjust to a different way of life. It's another story altogether to have a baby with colic...or whatever it is that makes them so cranky all the time. Hazel cried nonstop for the first three months. I often found myself crying along with her because I didn't know what else to do. We were/are regulars at the pediatrician's office, everyone knows us by name now because we were there (no-kidding) every other day for the first month, then twice a week after that. Only at month-three did we finally start tapering the visits to every other week. Most of Hazel's problems had to do with "colic", low weight gain, and breastfeeding, but I'll write another post about that later.

With Andy out of town for work most weeks and Hazel's nonstop crying, I was worn pretty ragged those first few months. I survived on showers at 2am, 1-minute breaks sitting on the back porch with the sun in my face, long cries into my coffee, granola bars, and netflix. I tell you, single/solo parenting is HARD. I don't wish it on anyone. If you know a single mom, or one whose husband works long hours (or out of town), help a mama out! I don't mean ask if she wants help, just show up and help. (I'm not gonna lie, I could have used a lot more help...I was just too proud to ask for it.)

So now that we are past the I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing-and-my-baby-won't-stop-crying phase, things finally feel good. Hazel is a completely different baby than she was those first few months. She laughs and smiles and we like each other. We are starting to get into some sort of routine and my anxiety about getting out of the house is almost all gone. Life is still challenging and I am often frustrated with my loss of independence (especially when Andy is not around to give me a break), but all in all I feel better about being a mom. It is crazy how much a little human can change your life. I love my child, but I truly don't understand how people can do this over and over again with multiple children. Mad respect to them! One-and-done will be my story. :)

Motherhood is Humbling

 

Yep, motherhood is humbling. Never before have I contradicted myself so much or been proven wrong time and time again. I went into this parenthood-gig with perfect ideals, saying I will 'never' do this or that...and then it came down to survival and I did just that thing I said I wouldn't do. I am learning, slowly but surely. There is usually a consistent feeling of guilt, especially when mentioning these things to other parents, but I am trying to get past that. We need to not guilt each other as parents, but support and lift each other up. So here are some of the things that have humbled me, these are my truths and realities:

-I use formula. *gasp!* Something that I always thought was the devil. When boobs aren't working though, and baby isn't thriving or gaining weight, you do what you need to do.

-I have and use cloth diapers (fuzzi bunz), but I really prefer the disposables. Cloth diapers seem like such a great idea. They really do save money at the end of the day and are a much cleaner option for the environment, but they are such a HASSLE. I do laundry every two days, they don't wick the moisture away from her as good as the disposables, they are more prone to leaking, I have to change them more often...and the list goes on. Each time I use a cloth diaper I quietly and guiltily tell myself this will be the last time.

-Even though I am not working I put my baby in daycare. *Another gasp!* "But you have the privilege of staying at home and spending the whole day with your beautiful child!" Yes, it may be a fantastic privilege that I don't have to go back to work, but mama needs a break. Especially when papa is out of town all week. Yes, I felt guilty at first, but then I started getting things done and taking care of myself and the guilt faded away. I love my child, but I can't spend every waking hour of my life with her or I will go crazy. (side note: she's only in daycare two days a week)

-I have always loathed those super colorful, eyesore floor gyms that babies can lay under. (see picture at top of page) Yeah...we have one of those now and she loves it.

-Before having a baby I swore we would only have natural wooden toys. Nope- we definitely have plastic toys covered in all the colors of the rainbow now.

-I like a good schedule and planned to put Hazel on a schedule right out of the womb, that didn't happen. She's almost 5 months old and we still don't have any type of schedule. Each day is different and that is fine.

-I promised myself that I wouldn't litter facebook and instagram with baby photos, but some days she is just so damn cute that I can't help myself!

-I always figured we would co-sleep. Andy and I even bought a bigger bed so that she could sleep in it with us. She sleeps in the crib though. I just can't sleep with her in bed. I tried and tried, but something in me would not turn off when she was in the bed. Now that she sleeps in the crib my body is able to shut off and I can sleep soundly! (Not a single bit of guilt there!)

-Before having a baby my dog was my baby. Now, I can't stand him! He smells, he barks, he annoys the crap out of me. I feel incredibly guilty that I don't love him anymore, but that's the reality of it. I am not openly trying to find another home for him, but I'm not going to deny that if someone wanted him I would totally give him away. (*Edit 5-months later: I am back to loving him, thank goodness!)

These are my truths. I have some guilt, but I also feel relief in areas. I am humbled everyday and life with a baby is definitely not what I expected it to be, but that's ok.

The real look of motherhood

My friend Mike just wrote about FOMO (fear of missing out) and how in our social media driven world we only post about the cool parts of our lives. His point was how we post the best parts of our lives to feel cooler than other people posting about the awesome things that they are doing. It is a vicious cycle. You are guilty of it, your hairdresser is guilty of it, and I am definitely guilty of it.

As a new mother I want to showcase how cute my baby is and what a perfect life we live. My daughter has a head full of hair and is pretty much adorable. I probably take upwards of 20 pictures of her a day. (I know!!) Then I scrutinize over which photo is the best to post. ...All the while struggling to breastfeed and dealing with a colicky baby who screams all day. But you don't see that part. You see the cute baby picture, or the "happy" mom on an adventure with her new baby picture.

Another thing I have been partaking in as a new mother is the posting of my baby's monthly milestones. This includes her weight, development progress, likes, and dislikes. I just finished posting my baby's 2-month stats and got to thinking that maybe I should do a milestones post for myself as a new mother, to measure how far I've come. Not a pretty post, but a real look at the beginning progress of motherhood. All of the attention is on the baby's progress, but what about poor mom? She is growing, learning, and progressing too.

So here is my non-FOMO post of REAL motherhood month by month. 

(My hope is to do all 12 months of my first year being a mom.)

Month-1

 Month-1 Outtakes:

Month-2

 Month-2 Outtakes:

Month-3

 Month-3 Outtakes:

  Month-4

Month-4 Outtakes:

Month-5

 Month-5 Outtakes: 

 Month-6

Month-6 Outtakes: 

Month-7

Month-7 Outtakes

Month-8

Month-8 Outtakes

Month-9

Month-9 Outtakes

Month-10

Month-10 Outtakes

 Month-11

Month-11 Outtakes

Month-12!! (Yay!)

Month-12 Outtakes 

 

6-week Postpartum Truths

Photo by Robin Skievaski Photography

Well here I am, 6-weeks after giving birth to our little Hazel. I have had a lot of half written posts in my head, but they have never made it to the computer. This was partially because taking care of a newborn has consumed all of my time, and partially because I had so much to say that I didn't know how to properly organize it. I still don't know how to organize it, but the time has come to try.

I've read a lot of baby blogs, thus a lot of birth stories. I always figured I would follow suit and post my birth story after it happened. Before giving birth, I was really excited to go into labor, experience giving birth, and then tell everyone my magical story. Then it happened. And let me tell you, there was NOTHING magical about it. In fact, it was the most traumatizing event that I have ever experienced. So traumatizing that I don't want to tell my birth story. You might be wondering, wow something serious must have happened. The truth is that nothing serious happened, it was a very average birth. I was just a huge wimp, I lost control, I freaked out, in the end I was extremely traumatized, end of story.

I don't understand how everyone can say that pregnancy is magical, giving birth is magical, newborns are magical...yata yata. Maybe it truly is magical for some people, but not for me. I would be more inclined to use the adjectives uncomfortable, painful, isolating. Before getting pregnant, I was under the illusion that everything involved with having a baby would be beautiful. I was so wrong. I hate to be a downer, but I have not enjoyed any of the process of getting pregnant and having a baby. (Except for feeling her kicks when she was inside me, and feeling like a mother goddess for a total of about one week when I was pregnant.) Overall, it has been hard and isolating.

Maybe I wasn't ready for a baby, maybe I don't do as well with change as I thought I did. Whatever it is, I have struggled. Yes, I wanted to experience pregnancy, I wanted to feel my body grow with life inside it, and then use my incredible body to push that new life out into the world. I did it, I experienced it, and now my life has changed forever. I now have to deal with the challenges of someone else needing me 24 hours a day, loss of independence, loss of body perkiness, loss of social life...I gave all of those up and I am struggling. Yes, I gained a beautiful and healthy daughter, but I have yet to truly appreciate her. So far, she is like a needy pet. She eats, sleeps, poops, and cries. That is my life now. I am trying hard to find joy in the little things, but some days this life change is just all too overwhelming. Thus the journey to motherhood begins!

(Don't get me wrong, this is not postpartum depression, I am just processing the whirlwind that this is. My spirits are upbeat, I am just dealing with change and trying to speak my truth. :)

The Waiting Game...

I had no idea that the end of pregnancy would be so agonizing! At the beginning of my pregnancy I told myself that I would try to enjoy every minute of the journey. That at the end, rather than hoping the baby would come quickly, instead I would live each day fully enjoying the last of my independence before becoming a parent. Well...somehow that idea didn't stick. I am over pregnancy, I just want baby girl to get here. I want my body back. I want to be able to eat and drink what I want. I want to be able to sleep comfortably. Darn it!

Each day that goes by the time ticks SO. SLOWLY. My sister-inlaw gave me some great advice saying that I should treat myself to a little something special each day and plan fun activities to look forward to. I have started to do this, but still, I am impatient. I guess this is just another lesson in life showing me that I need to surrender to what will happen. My baby will come when she is ready and I need to trust that my body knows what it is doing. Somehow this is easier said than done.

On top of all this waiting, my due date was also pushed back. Bah humbug! Seriously, really? The baby's measurements in my ultrasound showed a later due date, so my new due date is now August 2nd. My July baby just became an August baby according to technology. We shall see technology, we shall see!

So...I continue the wait. I continue to get contractions that randomly start and stop. I continue to wake up in the middle of the night to pee only a teaspoon because that seems to be the size of my bladder these days. I continue to speed-waddle around the neighborhood hoping to walk this baby out. I continue to drink so much red raspberry leaf tea that my bowels loosen, all in the hopes of ripening my cervix. I continue to hope and dream about having this baby. Patience, let me learn patience...

Pregnancy, Diabetes, Death of a Friend, & now... Melanoma

A friend of my recently posted this quote by anonymous:

"An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards. When life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that it is going to launch you into something great. Focus and keep aiming."

Pregnancy, Diabetes, Death of a Friend, AND now Melanoma. REALLY? Just really, I ask? Somehow it is all so much to take in that I just have to laugh. Thank goodness for a positive personality, because otherwise I may just be at the bottom of a lake somewhere...

Getting pregnant was exciting, and while we planned it, we didn't plan for it to happen immediately...like the first time we tried. (I was sure it would take at least 6-months.) So in our not-well-thought-through "planning" we found ourselves pregnant and in the middle of a house renovation.  Through horrible morning sickness, mood swings, and generally disliking being pregnant, I pushed through and we kept working on our house. Luckily, we were able to move into the house in February, and now we are 98% finished with it. We are currently tying up lose ends on the house as I wait to go into labor. We are cutting it close, but it has mostly worked out so I am not complaining. (I just really want air conditioning before the baby comes!)

At about 30-weeks into my pregnancy I was randomly diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I am not in any of the risk groups for getting it, it was just a random, freak diagnosis. Freak diagnosis or not, I have gestational diabetes and it has thrown me for a complete loop. It was weird and scary to get the news and I cried for a whole day. Since then, I have come to terms with it, learned how to take my blood sugar, and now I eat a super clean diet consisting of low carb and low sugar. While I have lost weight at the end of my pregnancy rather than gaining it, I feel healthy and more importantly the baby is healthy. All is well now in my diabetic life.

Just as I got over being pregnant while renovating our house, then got past horrible morning sickness, and adjusted to a diabetic lifestyle, I then had to lay a very close friend to rest. She fought cancer for 3-years and while the end was predictable, it was still horribly sad. It is hard to say goodbye to a friend at such a young age. It has also been extremely hard for me to process her death as I deal with pregnancy, house renovation, and diabetes. Prioritizing what to focus on and what to process when, is becoming increasingly difficult for me.

So to add a cherry on top of this mess-of-a-life-ice-cream sunday...I was just diagnosed with malignant melanoma. (*pause for loud laughter*) It was found in a mole above my left eye. They won't operate until the baby is born, but they are saying that they will have to take the majority of my eyebrow. (The dermatologist said, "plenty of people get tattooed eyebrows!")  Luckily, (which at this point, I'll take any kind of luck) they say that it is only stage-1 so I will not have to follow up with any kind of chemo or radiation. So now I wait for this baby to be born (any day!), so that I can get surgery to remove a chunk of my eyelid and eyebrow, so that hopefully I can be free of skin cancer and get on with my life with a newborn baby.

At this point I find life purely humorous. I no longer know how to process anything. Processing has gone out the window and it has been replaced with joking and laughter. I guess humor is how I deal with things...? Either way, I am focusing on the quote at the top of this page in hoping that even though I have been dragged back in life with these difficulties, hopefully my misfortunes will soon launch me forward into something great. "Focus and keep aiming." (It's ok, it's ok, it's ok)

Letters to a Pregnant Lady

Since getting pregnant I have received a few hand-written/handmade(!) letters from friends. I have found this gesture both surprising and extremely supportive. There is no other time in a woman's life (well, maybe menopause) that she needs solid support from her woman friends, than during pregnancy. I have always thought of pregnancy as a hugely defining time for a woman. You are more woman/feminine when you are with child, than any other time in your life. (In my opinion.)

During pregnancy, the woman's body does what it was made to do, it is real-life working biology. It is so incredible to think about! This real-life working biology can take a toll on the average woman though. Everything is changing: body, emotions, mental state... And really, the only other people that can truly understand this is other women. Yes, men can be empathetic and caring, but they don't truly understand what a woman goes through during pregnancy. Thus, the importance of women friends.

A lot of my pregnancy has felt lonely (especially the beginning). I didn't have any other close friends who were pregnant, and the majority of my friends just had no idea what I was going through. I have actually felt alienated by most of my friends due to not drinking anymore. As time has gone on though, special people have come out of the wood-work of life to show me support. Some of them are moms already, some are just intuitive friends who understand that a pregnant lady needs extra support and attention. Either way, I will take what I can get.

These special people that have reached out to me during such a big change in my life have made it worth all the while. I am sure that when I give birth and see my baby, I will say that she was worth it, but right now my lady friends are what make it worth all the tears, stress, and body changes. They have taught me the importance of woman-support. Not just through checking-in to see how I am or what I need, but through letters, both from near and far friends. Their letters and creative cards have gotten me through some trying times in my pregnancy. I cannot express enough gratitude to those supportive women in my life. They have shown me support, wisdom, and love in such a crazy time of womanhood.

Mother, Woman, Life Goddess! {empowerment that is pregnancy}

It has taken me 8 months to get to this stage, but I think I am finally there. I have fully accepted this pregnancy and I finally feel good about it and my body...well, mostly.

It is interesting to look at my pregnancy and see the stages that I have gone through. First there was shock, then shame, guilt, and secretiveness from keeping the news from close friends until the 3-month-now-you-can-tell-people mark. (Ridiculous!) Then I went through anger and denial. Anger over being so sick and not being able to hang out with friends or participate in holiday festivities. (Or drink a good stout beer.) Denial, because I wasn't showing yet so how could I actually be pregnant for real? Then, I experienced nervous excitement because I started to show a growing baby bump, but that meant that everything was in fact, real. After that came pure depression. It was something that I have experienced in small bouts before, so I sort of recognized it, but only now in hindsight do I really see that it was depression. It came out of nowhere and completely blindsided me for about a month and a half. I don't know why it came on, hormones (?), or maybe the fact that all of a sudden this pregnancy was real and I hadn't fully realized it until then. Either way, it came and then went. (Shew!) So now, for the first time in my pregnancy, I feel good (mentally, emotionally). I have worked so hard to get here, in all aspects, physically, emotionally, and mentally. I am in the final stretch and I know that I can do this!

I think it was a necessary process for me to go through all of those stages. This is why women are pregnant for 9 months. (Ah ha!) There is so much processing that goes into making a baby and bringing new life into this world that it can't be done overnight, or in a few weeks. I know that I am not at the end of my processing, but at least I am in a good place.

For the first time in my life I feel like a real woman, mother, and life goddess. My belly is swollen with life, flesh, a beating heart. My body supports my baby's body and together we are one. The baby kicks and I feel comfort. The baby rolls and I feel pure love and joy. Every day I see my round belly growing and feel my baby flutter inside me and I feel confident, empowered. I am a life goddess, I am doing something incredible!

Pregnancy Update: 30-weeks, 3rd trimester (7ish months)

Here are my 7-month stats: 

Feeling:
I am definitely feeling the weight of my belly these days. Until now, I haven't had too many issues and my energy has been great. With the growth of the baby and my belly though, I have begun to be physically tired more quickly. In fact, I was unloading the dishwasher the other night and was out of breath by the time I was finished. (Now that's just ridiculous!) My back also aches now, along with my ribs. Whoa, the rib pain is unreal! I assume my ribs are trying to expand along with the baby and that is causing me a LOT of uncomfortable pain. Sleeping is pretty much a joke at this point...in fact, I welcome the days when the baby is here and at least I can be comfortable in bed while I am sleep deprived. Body comfort is something I don't think I will have again until after the baby is here...ho-hum! I did have an awesome prenatal massage though. It was complete bliss and I definitely plan to get more of those in the following months. I have also started working out again. Ha, yes in my third trimester! I felt well enough to exercise in my second trimester, but didn't make it priority. So now that I have finally gotten around to it, I hope it is not too late. I try to get to the gym at least 3-5 times a week for a good hour of walking on the treadmill and even some light weight lifting. (Go me!) So far, it has been ok. I am slow, but at least I am doing something. Emotionally, I am still all over the place. I have good weeks and bad weeks. I think going to the gym is helping me to balance my emotions though. Yes, the power of exercise!

Bump:
The bump is GROWING. This lady is definitely pregnant, there is no more hiding it! In fact, the comments from strangers have begun. Now that people can see I am obviously pregnant they want to comment. For the most part I don't mind the comments and luckily I haven't had anyone be too grabby or touchy feely with my belly. (Though I don't mind that either. A pregnant belly is definitely something that begs to be rubbed. Even I as a pregnant lady myself, I want to grab every round pregnant belly that I see. So while I've got it, it may as well get the love from everyone else. So touch away, rub my belly for good luck! ...within moderation of course.)

Craving:
My cravings are still short lived. I think pregnancy cravings are a myth. I really haven't had any earth shattering absolute definite cravings this whole pregnancy. Cravings are normal for everyone, I think in pregnancy though, we just tend to satisfy the cravings more often. If any craving were to stand out to me these days it would be cantaloupe. I eat it every day and can't get enough of it. I've also been eating a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (still), along with fish, quinoa, baked oatmeal, trail mix, clementines, bananas, and salad. I've been eating some giant plates of salad!

Baby Stats:
Babycenter says the baby is the size of a large cauliflower and probably weighs about 3 pounds. She is now able to open and close her eyes and apparently she regularly tastes the amniotic fluid. She is also drinking it and peeing it out on a regular basis so that her organs get a jump start on learning to process liquids and food. The biggest thing for baby girl right now is her brain and fat growth. I also feel her whomping kicks on a regular basis now. If I lay down on my left side she starts kicking right away.

Awkward Dream:
Lately, my dreams have been filled with ex-boyfriends. So weird! The last time I dreamt excessively about ex-boyfriends was right after I got married. I can understand why I drempt of them then, it was my subconscious processing the fact that I was committed to one person for the rest of my life. I am not quite sure what it means this time... Either way, the most recent dream that I had of ex-boyfriends was set in an airport. I was pregnant and with ALL the ex-boyfriends together. One by one I said heartfelt goodbyes (and even kissed them) as they each boarded a separate plane. Once they were all gone I sat in the middle of the airport floor and ate a giant bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. The saying goodbye part as each of them boarded a plan and flew away was quite symbolic, but the spaghetti and meatballs part just has me confused...

30-week Pregnancy Food:

Cantaloupe and honeydew melon with popcorn

Blueberry banana baked oatmeal with cinnamon and almond milk

Quinoa with pesto, parmesean asparagus, and twice baked potatoes (both sweet potatoes and regular)

Chocolate covered frozen banana chunks