7/23/19
It has been quite some time since I posted anything publicly.
SO. MUCH. HAS. CHANGED.
I have been on a peace journey. Since finding my way back to God, I have realized many things, not the least of which is I am not alone. If you are reading this, YOU are not alone either. Even if you haven't found your way back to God or if you have never found your way to Him at all, He is still there. He is still after you. Probably sounds creepy to those who don't believe. Like God is a crazy stalker...HA! Seriously though, you aren't alone.
On the journey these past nearly 3 years since I had my last child, I have been in a whirlwind. I have become all too friendly with the familiar postpartum ghost of anxiety and depression. I finally broke down and succumbed to the fact that it is okay to have Jesus and a therapist too. We all need help sometimes and we are all recovering from something. "It takes a village" isn't just a phrase regarding raising children, it's for surviving this earthly life. It takes a village and the village I have found has been a great help. Like most women, I have far too much trouble asking for help. I am much better at giving it than receiving it. I struggle daily with the notion that I just might not be Wonder Woman after all.
Depression is a beast. I had a suspicion though. Anxiety? Well that was a given. I didn't need the therapist for that. But no four letter combination has ever stung me like PTSD. Hearing it for the first time made it real. It made what I had been through real. The first time I had ever told my story was only a few months ago, to a room full of no one who knew me then. It's been over 15 years since and I have never talked about "it". Some may have suspected but never let on. Those who knew me during that time obviously had no idea. Surely they would have spoken up. Maybe they did and I just don't remember or didn't listen back then. So much was different 15 years ago. There was no #metoo. There was no social media presence or following (Thank God for that, by the way). The rules just seemed different. I knew nothing at 18/19/20 years old. Using the R word then would have been drastic. I didn't know then what I know now. Still, there it is. The PTSD culprit rears it ugly head and I am here dealing with it 15 years later. Thank God for His grace and redemption and for little mercies along the way.
Rachel Hollis's book, Girl Wash Your Face has been life-changing for me. Another of the many tools God has put into my tool box for me to use. He led me to partnering with a beautiful dear friend to get in front and lead an entire group of women in the message of this book. It has been the highlight of my summer. I am so thankful that I said Yes when I felt God push me to do it. I signed up to fill the cups of other women but ended up with my own overflowing. If it had not been for the group, I never would have found therapy or been brave enough to go. Life-changing. I never would have realized that there was the entire group of Christian women who felt the same things I have felt; who have been through the things I have been through; who walk the daily walk I walk. Life-changing.
If you find yourself reading this, God brought you to this post. I haven't written in years and am not sure when I will again. But just know you are not alone in your battles. Even if you have not yet found the amazing love, grace, and mercy of God, there are so many of His children around you that are battling the same thing you are. You probably have no idea that they are. If they are like me, they will never tell you until pushed to do so or given the right opportunity; but they are there. They exist They are very real. You are not alone.
Lauren Daigle - "Rescue"
Lyrics:
You are not hidden
There’s never been a moment
You were forgotten
You are not hopeless
Though you have been broken
Your innocence stolen
I hear you whisper underneath your breath
I hear your SOS, your SOS
I will send out an army
To find you in the middle of darkest night
It’s true
I will rescue you
There is no distance
That cannot be covered
Over and over
You’re not defenseless
I’ll be your shelter
I’ll be your armor
I hear you whisper underneath your breath
I hear your SOS, your SOS
I will send out an army
To find you in the middle of darkest night
It’s true
I will rescue you
I will never stop marching
To reach you in the middle of the hardest fight
It’s true
I will rescue you
I hear the whisper underneath your breath
I hear you whisper you have nothing left
Tuesday, July 23, 2019
Monday, May 20, 2013
A wee bit of morbidity
No really. I don't talk about it because I know it's morbid and would quite possibly unnerve even those who know me best. But if I don't get these thoughts out to someone else I'm going to end up so far inside my own head, I'll be having the kind of anxiety attack I haven't had since freshman year of college when I found out my high school sweetheart was gay. (Those of you who know that story, or were there for that matter, I beg you keep your comments on topic here...because it's only funny now. It definitely wasn't then)
I have always had this morbid preoccupation with death. (No, not in a serial killer sort of way, in a fearful sort of way). I use to distract myself with church and Jesus and hallelujah and all that jazz. And you know, maybe I should go to church more, I don't know. Haven't decided yet. But my fear of death extended even into my ability to have fun and typical teenage misadventures. "No drugs! Not unless it has my name on the pill bottle"...that was me. Just about everyone I knew wondered how I made it through 5 years of college and a theatre degree and had never once smoked pot. Meh. It CAN happen. It was like I was so afraid of ANYTHING happening that might lead to death. (and yet I smoked cigarettes from high school until I got pregnant.) If only I had known sooner that there are no known deaths from marijuana. HA! The short of it...I'm a pansy. I have no sense of adventure. No desire to sky dive or bungy jump. I lock my doors going through questionable neighborhoods (whether its at night or during the day). Bad weather of any kind puts my stomach in knots that are just unexplainable. I won't even let most of my friends or family drive me anywhere because I'm so afraid of car accidents. It took me until December 2011 to be able to fly alone. I'm like a target for a bad Alanis Morrisette song.
But now....now that I'm a parent...it's a million times worse! There is no realization of mortality like giving birth. Everything worries me now...coughs, sneezes, itches, runny noses, vaccinations, medications, dirty carpets, dusty fans, germy hands....EVERYTHING. And all those things that I already had anxiety about, especially the bad weather part, just beyond ridiculous.
Now...please understand that I recognize that these are things that sound insane. I don't sit around all day worrying that I'm going to die. It's nothing like that. But I just can't think about it. I can't think about death or get this sudden massive buildup of anxiety that is near uncontrollable. I can't watch the national news because it is just so depressing all the time it seems (Thank God I don't live in Nola anymore or I couldn't even watch the local news!) There are television shows I use to LOVE to watch that I can barely stomach to watch anymore because I'm in tears the whole time (Grey's Anatomy or The Big C, for instance). I make myself watch them still in an attempt to try to get over this feeling. And it's not like I can, or even want to, talk to anyone else about it because I mean, come on, it's depressing!
I just feel like I'm walking around waiting. It's like this feeling that something bad is going to happen that I just can't shake. I HATE this feeling! I don't know why I have it, but I HATE IT! I want to get rid of this stupid feeling so I can just enjoy each day as I should. So if you've not gotten too depressed reading this and made it this far, any suggestions you have for shaking this feeling would be great.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
adventures in parenthood...part deux
It's been a roller coaster past 6 months. Baby, engagement, planning a wedding in 100 days for under $5000....definitely a task. All of these things and living so far from family has been hard. Going from hard-ass, Type A, Young Management Professional, to Molly-Homemaker-Stay-At-Home-Mom has been a definite struggle for me. I know I have been so blessed and yet am still having such a hard time balancing and accepting.
I have never NOT worked before. I thought I'd enjoy it. All that "for the greater good" nonsense and all. I am thankful everyday that I do not have to pay the cost of childcare or subject Jr to oh so many runny noses and germy hands and truthfully, other people's way of caring for him really. So I found a way to keep working, but from home mostly. And when I go into the office, I usually get to (have to) take him with me. It is a freedom that I am also thankful for. Most moms do not get the luxury of being able to be BOTH stay-at-home-mom AND working mom.
I have this insane need to have my own money. I think S would absolutely be in support of me staying home and not working and him just giving me money as needed. But I mean, come on, that's crappy. I mean, we'd make it fine, but it's not like we're rolling so deep it wouldn't be on a pretty tight budget. Plus, I really like not having to ask him to put gas in my car or for anything else. I like being able to be the person who buys all the groceries, even if its the only thing I can afford to do.
My feeling on it is this, if you each have your own money and an understanding of how all the bills and household costs will be paid, then you won't fight about money because you won't have to ask or wonder how much people are spending and on what they are spending it. If I were to stop working or getting my own money all together, then he would have every right to ask me where the money he gave me was going, or vice versa. Not that I am spending money on frivolous things, and not that he is either, but see my point? When you feel like you have to justify your actions to your spouse, that's the first move on the defensive, which will almost always certainly lead to an argument. Nope....not gonna do it.
Still, I find myself with this aching need to be with Jr 24/7 and to make sure he is properly learning in all the ways he should, eating the way he should, sleeping the way he should, etc. I want to make sure he is raised exactly the way S and I want him raised. At the same time, it seems to be so alienating to be this fantasy image of June Clever, but I find myself getting really distraught when I have spent the entire day at home and have nothing productive done to show for it. And I kinda want to go back to work, but the money I would make at work would just be getting put right back into daycare, which makes it almost seem pointless.
So here I am, torn on whether or not to go back to work full-time. I miss theater. I miss socialization over things NOT child-related. I miss productivity. The problem is, on the random days that I get to go away for 6+ hours a day to work, I miss Jr.
I have never NOT worked before. I thought I'd enjoy it. All that "for the greater good" nonsense and all. I am thankful everyday that I do not have to pay the cost of childcare or subject Jr to oh so many runny noses and germy hands and truthfully, other people's way of caring for him really. So I found a way to keep working, but from home mostly. And when I go into the office, I usually get to (have to) take him with me. It is a freedom that I am also thankful for. Most moms do not get the luxury of being able to be BOTH stay-at-home-mom AND working mom.
I have this insane need to have my own money. I think S would absolutely be in support of me staying home and not working and him just giving me money as needed. But I mean, come on, that's crappy. I mean, we'd make it fine, but it's not like we're rolling so deep it wouldn't be on a pretty tight budget. Plus, I really like not having to ask him to put gas in my car or for anything else. I like being able to be the person who buys all the groceries, even if its the only thing I can afford to do.
My feeling on it is this, if you each have your own money and an understanding of how all the bills and household costs will be paid, then you won't fight about money because you won't have to ask or wonder how much people are spending and on what they are spending it. If I were to stop working or getting my own money all together, then he would have every right to ask me where the money he gave me was going, or vice versa. Not that I am spending money on frivolous things, and not that he is either, but see my point? When you feel like you have to justify your actions to your spouse, that's the first move on the defensive, which will almost always certainly lead to an argument. Nope....not gonna do it.
Still, I find myself with this aching need to be with Jr 24/7 and to make sure he is properly learning in all the ways he should, eating the way he should, sleeping the way he should, etc. I want to make sure he is raised exactly the way S and I want him raised. At the same time, it seems to be so alienating to be this fantasy image of June Clever, but I find myself getting really distraught when I have spent the entire day at home and have nothing productive done to show for it. And I kinda want to go back to work, but the money I would make at work would just be getting put right back into daycare, which makes it almost seem pointless.
So here I am, torn on whether or not to go back to work full-time. I miss theater. I miss socialization over things NOT child-related. I miss productivity. The problem is, on the random days that I get to go away for 6+ hours a day to work, I miss Jr.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Adventures in parenthood
But first the labor/nursing adventure....
The baby finally arrived!
....One week post-due date, after being induced, 30 hours of labor, 2 hours of pushing, and an emergency C-Section. I said I was waiting for the other shoe to drop because pregnancy had been so "normal" according to my doctor. Well it dropped during labor. But you know what, I tried. I wanted very badly to go natural with no drugs and I did for 24 of the 30 hours. The IV pain meds were like a joke after about 3 contractions. The epidural wasn't NEARLY as bad as I thought it would be and worked...mostly. Pushing was really where the pain was, so when the doctor (who was sweating bullets from pulling with forceps) said, "ok it's time to go get the baby out because this isn't working", I breathed a complete sigh of relief and just let them whisk me away into general anesthesia heaven. I was told that my mom and SK couldn't even get their scrubs on in time and they had the baby out. Pretty amazing stuff.
SK was amazing throughout the whole hospital stay. I don't think I changed but 1 diaper the entire first weeks of little SK's life. Of course that would be the one where he'd peed for the first time post-circumcision and peed all over me and the small corner of the room I was changing him in. I was also down with a spinal headache for that first week so I spent the majority of my time flat on my back. SK fed me breakfast in the mornings at the hospital because I wasn't eating enough. He kept me positive through the post-partum pain because he knew I didn't want the narcotics they wanted to give me. He walked me around the halls so that I wouldn't hurt from laying in the bed so much. He made certain my stress level stayed low. He was there for me. I barely remember nursing throughout that entire time in the hospital, but apparently I did because we didn't attempt formula until we were home that first week (which, by the way, was a disaster from what SK says because it hurt his stomach). The only time I remember nursing was when the lactation lady came in, basically whipped out my boobs in front of SK's mom and sister (remember, I'm flat on my back with the spinal issue) and showed me how to get the baby to latch on. Then right after the baby started eating, in walks the pediatrician. So lots of people have seen my boobs now that should never have. Hooray for modesty! SK's poor mom has seen ALOT more of me than I EVER wanted her to, but she was and has been the person there for me throughout this whole thing whenever I need something. She stayed throughout the labor and then for 5 days or so after the baby was born and has been here roughly once a week every week since to help. The woman is a saint. She has helped me keep my sanity and been more supportive than anyone could ever have been. Everyone should be so lucky as to have a mother-in-law like her.
The first 2 weeks were really rough because I was solely breastfeeding. Once I started pumping, it made it a little easier because then I could put it in a bottle and SK could have bonding time with little SK by feeding him. Once we got past the first 2-4 weeks of nursing, little SK and I had finally gotten use to each other, we fixed his latching issues, he finally got back to his birth weight, and it seemed like all was well in breastfeeding land. It took yet ANOTHER stranger seeing my boobs because I had to feed him in front of the lactation lady at the WIC office so she could see why he was eating for so long so often, but he finally seemed to "get right". Well that lasted about a week. He was suddenly taking 6 ounces of breastmilk from a bottle and I jut couldn't (and still can't) pump enough to keep up with him. And when I try to (by pumping every 2-3 hours), I get so dehydrated and feel like I'm going to pass out. Not to mention that it pulls so hard on my chest that it leaves me in pain. Then I just end up, not only without enough milk, but frustrated, dehydrated, and in pain. I have looked up everything I can think of, sought advice from friends and "experts", but I just am not making enough to keep up with him anymore and I feel disgusted by it. Both SK and I REALLY wanted to make sure little SK only got breastmilk at least until he had his 1st round of vaccines at 2 months old. But this past week, while SK's mom was here, she convinced me it would be ok to give him some formula and that it didn't make me a bad mother if we had to switch him to formula. So once we ran out of the freezer stash of pumped milk I had (because I couldn't keep up with him), we gave him a bottle of formula. I made her tell SK that we did it though because I knew he'd be kind of upset about the fact that we had to give it to him. Luckily, he's doing ok on it and double luck, we are able to get it from WIC so it doesn't cost us anything.
However, since then, it's like my boobs have given up. Every day there's less it seems. I still get the let-down reflex but I am only getting 4-6 ounces TOTAL if I pump and that's only like 3 times a day. Once I noticed the amount start to wane, I tried to furiously pump more often for a few days (like every 2 hours again) but only got around 2-3 ounces each time. But if pumping every 4 hours gets me 4-6 and he's eating 4-6 every 2-3 hours....you see where the math is a problem. So now he's getting formula every day. I'm pumping less but nursing more. I've been trying to give him only 4 ounces of formula and then nursing him for the rest until he's full. I've also been nursing him for that early morning wake up and then a night to go to sleep. Still, I haven't noticed any increase yet and it seems to still be tapering off. I've tried all the little "secrets", like eating oatmeal, drinking more water, looking at pictures of the baby while I'm pumping (although i could just look at the baby because he's kinda with me all the time), all the stuff they tell you, and guess what? It's NOT helping. It's NOT that I have just given up and don't want to breastfeed anymore, but he's GOT to be able to eat until he's full and if he's not going to get it from me, then he gets formula. Tons of babies start their life out on formula and are fine. I was a formula baby after 2 weeks. SK's mom said she breastfed all 3 of her kids, the 1st for 6 months, the 2nd (SK) for 3 months, and then the 3rd for 6 weeks. All of us are fine. Little SK is 6 weeks old now. Does any of this information make me feel any less like SK is completely disappointed and doesn't believe that I'm doing everything I can? NOPE. Do I feel like I a somehow failing my child? YEP. I know the time is coming soon where I'm going to have to go solely to formula because my production is going to be gone. Not because I'm not trying to be optimistic about it, but because I' trying to be realistic about it so I'm not do depressed about it later when it happens and feel like even MORE of a failure than I already do. It's unfortunate but true and I've accepted the fact that it's just not going to happen the way I wanted it to, much like labor didn't. All I want is for my baby to be healthy and happy. I know SK only wants the same thing. And I know he is just trying to make sure I stay positive, much like he did when I was in labor and in he hospital. So why then, do I feel like stopping breastfeeding is making me that depressed child disappointing their parent?
The baby finally arrived!
....One week post-due date, after being induced, 30 hours of labor, 2 hours of pushing, and an emergency C-Section. I said I was waiting for the other shoe to drop because pregnancy had been so "normal" according to my doctor. Well it dropped during labor. But you know what, I tried. I wanted very badly to go natural with no drugs and I did for 24 of the 30 hours. The IV pain meds were like a joke after about 3 contractions. The epidural wasn't NEARLY as bad as I thought it would be and worked...mostly. Pushing was really where the pain was, so when the doctor (who was sweating bullets from pulling with forceps) said, "ok it's time to go get the baby out because this isn't working", I breathed a complete sigh of relief and just let them whisk me away into general anesthesia heaven. I was told that my mom and SK couldn't even get their scrubs on in time and they had the baby out. Pretty amazing stuff.
SK was amazing throughout the whole hospital stay. I don't think I changed but 1 diaper the entire first weeks of little SK's life. Of course that would be the one where he'd peed for the first time post-circumcision and peed all over me and the small corner of the room I was changing him in. I was also down with a spinal headache for that first week so I spent the majority of my time flat on my back. SK fed me breakfast in the mornings at the hospital because I wasn't eating enough. He kept me positive through the post-partum pain because he knew I didn't want the narcotics they wanted to give me. He walked me around the halls so that I wouldn't hurt from laying in the bed so much. He made certain my stress level stayed low. He was there for me. I barely remember nursing throughout that entire time in the hospital, but apparently I did because we didn't attempt formula until we were home that first week (which, by the way, was a disaster from what SK says because it hurt his stomach). The only time I remember nursing was when the lactation lady came in, basically whipped out my boobs in front of SK's mom and sister (remember, I'm flat on my back with the spinal issue) and showed me how to get the baby to latch on. Then right after the baby started eating, in walks the pediatrician. So lots of people have seen my boobs now that should never have. Hooray for modesty! SK's poor mom has seen ALOT more of me than I EVER wanted her to, but she was and has been the person there for me throughout this whole thing whenever I need something. She stayed throughout the labor and then for 5 days or so after the baby was born and has been here roughly once a week every week since to help. The woman is a saint. She has helped me keep my sanity and been more supportive than anyone could ever have been. Everyone should be so lucky as to have a mother-in-law like her.
The first 2 weeks were really rough because I was solely breastfeeding. Once I started pumping, it made it a little easier because then I could put it in a bottle and SK could have bonding time with little SK by feeding him. Once we got past the first 2-4 weeks of nursing, little SK and I had finally gotten use to each other, we fixed his latching issues, he finally got back to his birth weight, and it seemed like all was well in breastfeeding land. It took yet ANOTHER stranger seeing my boobs because I had to feed him in front of the lactation lady at the WIC office so she could see why he was eating for so long so often, but he finally seemed to "get right". Well that lasted about a week. He was suddenly taking 6 ounces of breastmilk from a bottle and I jut couldn't (and still can't) pump enough to keep up with him. And when I try to (by pumping every 2-3 hours), I get so dehydrated and feel like I'm going to pass out. Not to mention that it pulls so hard on my chest that it leaves me in pain. Then I just end up, not only without enough milk, but frustrated, dehydrated, and in pain. I have looked up everything I can think of, sought advice from friends and "experts", but I just am not making enough to keep up with him anymore and I feel disgusted by it. Both SK and I REALLY wanted to make sure little SK only got breastmilk at least until he had his 1st round of vaccines at 2 months old. But this past week, while SK's mom was here, she convinced me it would be ok to give him some formula and that it didn't make me a bad mother if we had to switch him to formula. So once we ran out of the freezer stash of pumped milk I had (because I couldn't keep up with him), we gave him a bottle of formula. I made her tell SK that we did it though because I knew he'd be kind of upset about the fact that we had to give it to him. Luckily, he's doing ok on it and double luck, we are able to get it from WIC so it doesn't cost us anything.
However, since then, it's like my boobs have given up. Every day there's less it seems. I still get the let-down reflex but I am only getting 4-6 ounces TOTAL if I pump and that's only like 3 times a day. Once I noticed the amount start to wane, I tried to furiously pump more often for a few days (like every 2 hours again) but only got around 2-3 ounces each time. But if pumping every 4 hours gets me 4-6 and he's eating 4-6 every 2-3 hours....you see where the math is a problem. So now he's getting formula every day. I'm pumping less but nursing more. I've been trying to give him only 4 ounces of formula and then nursing him for the rest until he's full. I've also been nursing him for that early morning wake up and then a night to go to sleep. Still, I haven't noticed any increase yet and it seems to still be tapering off. I've tried all the little "secrets", like eating oatmeal, drinking more water, looking at pictures of the baby while I'm pumping (although i could just look at the baby because he's kinda with me all the time), all the stuff they tell you, and guess what? It's NOT helping. It's NOT that I have just given up and don't want to breastfeed anymore, but he's GOT to be able to eat until he's full and if he's not going to get it from me, then he gets formula. Tons of babies start their life out on formula and are fine. I was a formula baby after 2 weeks. SK's mom said she breastfed all 3 of her kids, the 1st for 6 months, the 2nd (SK) for 3 months, and then the 3rd for 6 weeks. All of us are fine. Little SK is 6 weeks old now. Does any of this information make me feel any less like SK is completely disappointed and doesn't believe that I'm doing everything I can? NOPE. Do I feel like I a somehow failing my child? YEP. I know the time is coming soon where I'm going to have to go solely to formula because my production is going to be gone. Not because I'm not trying to be optimistic about it, but because I' trying to be realistic about it so I'm not do depressed about it later when it happens and feel like even MORE of a failure than I already do. It's unfortunate but true and I've accepted the fact that it's just not going to happen the way I wanted it to, much like labor didn't. All I want is for my baby to be healthy and happy. I know SK only wants the same thing. And I know he is just trying to make sure I stay positive, much like he did when I was in labor and in he hospital. So why then, do I feel like stopping breastfeeding is making me that depressed child disappointing their parent?
Monday, September 17, 2012
Adventures in Pregnancy
**WARNING: THIS WILL CROSS THE T.M.I. LINE, SO PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE TO READ IF YOU THINK YOU MIGHT END UP COMMENTING, AT ANY POINT, WITH ANYTHING SIMILAR TO "WISH I DIDN'T KNOW THAT NOW". I AM NOT ASHAMED. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.**
There are many things that people don't tell you, this includes friends, family, websites, reference books....there are some things that I guess no one really wants to admit. They'll tell you all about morning sickness and back labor and tiredness and sore boobs and crazy constipation. Not that all of that information wasn't a good "forewarning" but it's nothing compared to the things I wish I would've known.
I've been lucky so far. I never had morning sickness. I've only gained 25 pounds and I've only got 5 more weeks to go. I haven't had any swelling. I tested great for iron levels and glucose levels, therefore avoiding the constipation issues from iron pills or other medication. I've had no issues with my pre-natal vitamins because they're the gummy ones. Back pain? Yeah. Boobs hurt? Yeah. Fatigue? Yeah. My back pain is mostly due to pre-pregnancy issues, though, because of scoliosis and bulging disc issues. My boobs hurting are just a natural part of them getting bigger, which SK would tell you is a positive more than a negative. The fatigue....well...the extra weight all in one place seems to be what does the trick there.
The things I wish I'd known:
- Shaving my legs would be as much of an adventure (chore) as it is
- Bending over, for no matter how long, sucks
- The image you get of a balloon blown up as far as it possibly could be, is how my belly feels at this point
- No matter what bra I'm wearing, after a couple of hours, I want to take it off. Then about 30 minutes later, my boobs hurt so bad from hanging down, I have to put a bra back on to hold them up.
- Breathing is REALLY hard most of the time and only gets more difficult the closer to the end I get
- No matter how I sit or lay or position myself, sometimes I just can't get comfortable
- No matter how I sit or lay or position myself, sometimes I just can't get comfortable
- When a girlfriend tells you a story about the baby being "in her ribcage" or "stomping on her bladder", it's NOT a figure of speech...that shits for real
- Pre-natal vitamins may make the hair on your head longer and healthier and grow faster, but it also makes the hair EVERYWHERE ELSE do the same. Ain't nothing sexy about belly hair and toe hair
- When boobs get bigger, nipples do too
- Your gums can bleed and bleed and bleed EVERY time you brush your teeth, and it's apparently "normal"
- Your intestines and stomach and other organs get pushed up to where your heart should be, so the things I thought were stomach pains or gas in the beginning, were actually the baby moving around because my organs were someplace else entirely.
- It's really hard to concentrate on anything when you feel like an alien is trying to escape through your belly button
- There is nothing cooler and/or creepier than watching your stomach move around by itself
- You may not feel excited about the baby right away or be able to picture yourself with a baby, and that's okay because eventually the feeling passes
No one wants to talk about what happens to your relationship either.
- Things like wearing makeup, plucking your eyebrows, shaving your legs, and 'maintaining' certain important areas become less likely to happen because you don't have the energy, can't reach, or can't see to do it. And yes, there is a certain point at which this becomes VERY depressing.
- There are times when, without warning, you become sad that you don't spend much time talking, but it's mostly because you're both brain dead from the day and just have to zone out
- Every speck of dirt on any inch of the house will annoy you and not him, or him and not you, regardless of how either of you deal with housework pre-pregnancy. Nesting instincts rears their ugly head and can cause a lot of discourse. There may or may not be anything you can do about it. Talking and trying to stay calm help...most of the time.
- Talking too much about the baby moving around and kicking you in the rib cage, is apparently a big turn off. However, apparently you can't help but talk about it out loud and will still get upset that it's a turn off, even when you know it is. It's like pregnant brain can't help itself.
- Even if you seemed like a perfectly sane female prior to being pregnant, you WILL become insane and emotional while you're pregnant. You will say and do things that you wouldn't normally and feel things that you wouldn't normally. It might manifest itself as anger, frustration, but most often, crying. I never knew I could cry so hard or so much about things that I would have never logically cared about before.
- Certain other hygienic things like bathing and brushing your teeth every day become less of a priority because you're just too damn tired to. Not bathing/brushing teeth = smelly = turn off = no sex. This is unfortunate for both of you because this leads the pregnant female brain to think that this behavior is tantamount to not caring enough to try to impress each other and manifests feelings of unattractiveness, which leads to more crying.
- The woman may be carrying the weight of the child, but the man (if he is a good one), is carrying the weight of the relationship. He has to know what the woman needs without her having to ask. He has to be willing to do everything with a smile or risk the previously mentioned "insanity". No matter how independent a woman is, having the father be there for every little thing she needs and to offer without her having to ask is the most important relationship saving thing there can be. This takes a very strong-willed man to stomach this and a strong-willed woman to be able to handle it when it just realistically can't happen. This is perhaps the hardest thing to get through.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Pardon the controversy
This will probably spark some debate, but I don't care. I love a healthy debate, so go for it.
I have to lay it on the line here though...What is it with this anti-vaccine movement? What is wrong with people? What in God's name is wrong with people that they think it is somehow better for their child to not vaccinate them?!? I mean, seriously. Connection to Autism? Bullshit. Look up the science.
Now I also researched some of the other "logic" behind the argument for being anti-vaccine and it just can't be backed up scientifically. It seems to me to be some sort of overgrown media blowout presented with a twisted process of association and built on nothing but a case of circumstantial evidence. The bear is big and brown and hairy and therefore if you are big and brown and hairy, you must be a bear. I realize how elementary that metaphor sounds, but you get what I mean. A media scare can have crazy effects on what people believe and how people think. It's truly amazing what one can do with the power of suggestion; and even more amazing how quickly people with throw common sense out of the window at the first hint of being able to "stick it to the man". Someone, somewhere, HAS to have considered that the level of autism awareness has increased and thusly the number of diagnoses. Here is what the Autism Science Foundation has to say:
I was watching an episode of "Pregnant in Heels" (don't judge me), and there was a woman on there talking about how she would not be vaccinating her child. When asked why, she indignantly made the following statement (paraphrased), "Why would my child need a Polio vaccine? When is the last time you heard of someone getting Polio? No one gets Polio anymore!"
BECAUSE IT'S VACCINATED FOR YOU IDIOT!!
Uggggghhhh.....*sigh*....in the words of my mother...some people's children!
I don't understand how people can be so illogical.
At the heart of the argument seems to be the MMR vaccine which is for Measles, Mumps, and Rubella. Now I have no idea what Rubella is (which I thank God for), but I had the mumps when I was a kid and it is AWFUL. As for Measles, this can kill children before the parent even realizes the child has the disease. So if you don't vaccinate your child and then put them in the same daycare with MY child and it's prior to the time they are old enough to even get the vaccine, you could, in fact, kill my child with your stupid decision. Sorry, but your freedom stops at the point at which it endangers the life of other free citizens. If you want to choose to not vaccinate your child, then you better make sure they live in a bubble. Chances are, YOU were given the vaccine you are choosing to not give them and you most likely DON'T have autism.
I don't know, maybe I'm being too hard on the wing-nuts that are choosing to not vaccinate. I, too, have my own views about the perversion of the relationship between health care providers and pharmaceutical companies. I do not like taking prescription medication of any kind really. However, most of the routine vaccines are as tested and proven as antibiotics. It's not like the medications that are advertised in magazines everywhere or on TV every other commercial. (But I'll save my pharmaceutical rant for another time.)
I guess my point is that there is nothing wrong with questioning "the man" in whatever capacity you see "the man" to be; but don't be ridiculous about it. Use your head and make decisions that are well informed and well researched. Be educated when you make decisions, especially when those decisions so clearly affect the health, safety and well being of your friends, family and those you come in contact with. Just because Dr. Oz says Almond Milk is some new holistic-cure-all-weight-loss miracle, doesn't mean you rush right out asking your local barista to suddenly start putting that in your latte instead of whole or skim milk. But who am I kidding? If you watch Dr. Oz and you're the kind of person that asks for almond milk (or even thinks almond milk is MILK...because it is NOT) then you're probably not even reading this blog anyway.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Having a hard time
Among the many choices you have to make when you get pregnant, the biggest one is "to stay at home or not stay at home". When I made the choice to quit my last job and sort of make a switch in career paths, I did so because it was financially feasible at the time and because the stress at work had become more than my rampant running pregnancy emotions could deal with. Thus a new predicament has arisen.
I have cried possibly more since becoming pregnant than I have ever before. The smallest things (even some commercials) have great tear-jerking potential. I have long heard stories of women who cry at commercials or become depressed during or after pregnancy. I never really understood it until now. It's just something that is inevitable it seems. If someone else cries, I'm going to, guaranteed...even if they are on TV or a movie. Once it starts, it becomes a crack in the dam, a force so unpredictable as to its next movement but still bound to cause flood or damage. Apparently, though, these things are completely expected during this stage of pregnancy.
The issue with this, is the stay at home part; because what this means is that you are typically alone when it happens. It takes one word, one thing going wrong, one small thing out of place, and the waterworks start. Being at home alone with no one to get you out of your own head is just recipe for disaster depression. One thought leads to another and you're just suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that you're going through it alone and no one has time to be there for you but you. It's like the sensible part of your brain just completely shuts down and all you are left with are these completely raw emotions that you just can't get away from. You're just alone and left to deal with it.
When you are the person who stays at home, that typically means you were lucky enough to have a partner that gave you the option and is working making enough money to cover it. But there are factors, I have learned, that affect the core of your sanity and eventually the core of your relationship with each other that are not typically at first considered when making this decision.
I never considered how lonely I would feel at home all the time. I felt like I would enjoy the freedom, and I did at first. It didn't matter when he was working or not working because I would always be off and we could spend time together then. I didn't consider how tired he would be when he got home and how much that would make me feel like a burden and a nag when I wanted to use his time off as time for us to spend together doing stuff. I never considered how he would feel obligated to save up all his time, money, and resources for when the baby arrived. He is trying so hard to do the right thing and work as much as he can now so that he can have time off when the baby arrives. I mean, that IS the logical thing to do. It's just so hard to spend all day away from him each day and only see him as he exhaustively eats dinner across from me. It puts a strain on my emotions even more because I DO understand how tired he is because I KNOW what he's been doing at work all day, and I don't want to bother him by telling him I miss him and what our relationship was like before I got pregnant.
We were together all the time it seemed, even when we weren't. He'd text me just whenever he was thinking about me. We worked down the street from each other so I could expect to see him pass by everyday around the same time on his way to the bank. We would meet up on Sundays at a certain restaurant every week. We would catch a happy hour beer together. It was like we had a routine that I could count on that has been completely disrupted by the outside force that has led to so much happiness for both of us. We have this beautiful house that is slowly becoming a home. I have a starter garden in the backyard. We bought furniture and other stuff together. It's like that same wonderful force has also led to so much stress and fear and uncertainty hidden beneath the happiness.
Of all the things I have found out on my own that no one told me was involved in having a child, the emotional strain it would have on our relationship is the thing I wish most that I could have prepared for.
I want to have more meaningful conversations. I want to plan the baby's nursery together. I want to create our baby website together. I want to go register for baby stuff together. I want to still hold each other on the sofa a we watch TV at night, even if we both fall asleep. I want him to research and ask me questions about the baby and baby stuff often. I want to budget our finances together. I want to work on the nursery together. I want to hang pictures around our house together. I want to know that he refers to me and the baby as his "family". I want to have pictures taken of us together with my big pregnant belly. I want to not be a burden or obligation. I want to talk about what we are scared of and overcome the fears together. I want to be there for him when he is sad as much as he is there for me. I want to celebrate together. I want him to know all these things without me having to tell him. I want him to know all of this and not feel guilty. He has been so much more supportive than I could ever have expected or imagined and I am grateful for everything he does.
So I decided I need to start working again, mostly as a distraction. It will keep me busy, earn money, and hopefully keep me more sane and out of his hair. Hopefully it helps.
I have cried possibly more since becoming pregnant than I have ever before. The smallest things (even some commercials) have great tear-jerking potential. I have long heard stories of women who cry at commercials or become depressed during or after pregnancy. I never really understood it until now. It's just something that is inevitable it seems. If someone else cries, I'm going to, guaranteed...even if they are on TV or a movie. Once it starts, it becomes a crack in the dam, a force so unpredictable as to its next movement but still bound to cause flood or damage. Apparently, though, these things are completely expected during this stage of pregnancy.
The issue with this, is the stay at home part; because what this means is that you are typically alone when it happens. It takes one word, one thing going wrong, one small thing out of place, and the waterworks start. Being at home alone with no one to get you out of your own head is just recipe for disaster depression. One thought leads to another and you're just suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that you're going through it alone and no one has time to be there for you but you. It's like the sensible part of your brain just completely shuts down and all you are left with are these completely raw emotions that you just can't get away from. You're just alone and left to deal with it.
When you are the person who stays at home, that typically means you were lucky enough to have a partner that gave you the option and is working making enough money to cover it. But there are factors, I have learned, that affect the core of your sanity and eventually the core of your relationship with each other that are not typically at first considered when making this decision.
I never considered how lonely I would feel at home all the time. I felt like I would enjoy the freedom, and I did at first. It didn't matter when he was working or not working because I would always be off and we could spend time together then. I didn't consider how tired he would be when he got home and how much that would make me feel like a burden and a nag when I wanted to use his time off as time for us to spend together doing stuff. I never considered how he would feel obligated to save up all his time, money, and resources for when the baby arrived. He is trying so hard to do the right thing and work as much as he can now so that he can have time off when the baby arrives. I mean, that IS the logical thing to do. It's just so hard to spend all day away from him each day and only see him as he exhaustively eats dinner across from me. It puts a strain on my emotions even more because I DO understand how tired he is because I KNOW what he's been doing at work all day, and I don't want to bother him by telling him I miss him and what our relationship was like before I got pregnant.
We were together all the time it seemed, even when we weren't. He'd text me just whenever he was thinking about me. We worked down the street from each other so I could expect to see him pass by everyday around the same time on his way to the bank. We would meet up on Sundays at a certain restaurant every week. We would catch a happy hour beer together. It was like we had a routine that I could count on that has been completely disrupted by the outside force that has led to so much happiness for both of us. We have this beautiful house that is slowly becoming a home. I have a starter garden in the backyard. We bought furniture and other stuff together. It's like that same wonderful force has also led to so much stress and fear and uncertainty hidden beneath the happiness.
Of all the things I have found out on my own that no one told me was involved in having a child, the emotional strain it would have on our relationship is the thing I wish most that I could have prepared for.
I want to have more meaningful conversations. I want to plan the baby's nursery together. I want to create our baby website together. I want to go register for baby stuff together. I want to still hold each other on the sofa a we watch TV at night, even if we both fall asleep. I want him to research and ask me questions about the baby and baby stuff often. I want to budget our finances together. I want to work on the nursery together. I want to hang pictures around our house together. I want to know that he refers to me and the baby as his "family". I want to have pictures taken of us together with my big pregnant belly. I want to not be a burden or obligation. I want to talk about what we are scared of and overcome the fears together. I want to be there for him when he is sad as much as he is there for me. I want to celebrate together. I want him to know all these things without me having to tell him. I want him to know all of this and not feel guilty. He has been so much more supportive than I could ever have expected or imagined and I am grateful for everything he does.
So I decided I need to start working again, mostly as a distraction. It will keep me busy, earn money, and hopefully keep me more sane and out of his hair. Hopefully it helps.
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