My Dear Sweet Baby Boy,
One month ago today, you blessed your dad and I by coming into the world, a healthy, beautiful miracle of life. As I reflect on the last few weeks of my life, I am humbled by how much you have already taught me about myself, and about life in general. For 9 months, I carried you in my belly, and was pretty miserable the whole time with very uncomfortable pregnancy symptoms. Before you were in my belly I had always dreamed of having a big family. Though, during the last 9 months, I started to doubt my previous desires. However, the moment you came into the world, and were placed onto my chest, I realized why people have many children. During my whole pregnancy, people told me regularly, that "I would forget the pain, and the nausea…nature has a way of making us forget." You see, these people didn't know the first thing about me. I will never forget any of it. I will remember all the vomiting, and the intense pain of labor and delivery. I will remember how much physical sacrifice is necessary to make, in order to grow a human. And I will choose, consciously to do it again. And probably again after that. Because when I look at you, I feel more love in my entire being than I have ever felt in my life. I feel the deepest connection to God, to myself and to your amazing dad. I melt when you fall asleep on my chest in complete surrender and trust in the safety of my arms. Giving birth to you, has made me a better person, and has made me feel whole in a way that is indescribable until you experience it yourself.
If you saw my picture before I was pregnant, you'd probably think I was in pretty good shape…but if you talked with me about how I felt about myself, my thoughts and feelings really didn't line up with reality. I have never been someone who has felt comfortable in my own skin…I have always been looking to change or improve, or 'just lose 5 pounds.' For the last 9 months, I was so sick all the time, that I couldn't exercise and I craved many unhealthy foods, as they were the only ones that made me feel better. I watched myself gain 54 pounds as my belly grew and grew with you in there. But I didn the absolute best I could with every day that presented itself to me. Some days my best was better than other days…but I promised myself I would do my best, because that's all I could do. And this practice of surrender was very humbling. It helped me let go of a lot of judgment I had of myself and my continuously growing body.
Now that you have arrived into the world, I have entered my postpartum stage of recovery, and because of how miraculous you are, and how much I have been opened up and connected to your incredible arrival, I love myself more than I ever have. I stare in the mirror and see soft, droopy skin in places it has never been. I see stretch marks all over my legs, hips and belly. I see puffiness still present all over. And I see a vessel that brought life into this world. I see myself as the most beautiful version of me that I have ever been. I feel like an incredibly natural, beautiful woman with fierce strength that I never knew I had. I have compassion for my stretch marks and admiration for my flabbiness…because all of those things are evidence that I brought you into the world. I did it! I have never been so proud of myself for anything in my life.
In your short time on this earth, you have already taught me how to love myself in a way I never thought I could. You have taught me how strong I actually am, and how to have compassion and softness for the process of healing. I am incredibly grateful to you for choosing me as your mom. I think we will learn equal amounts of life lessons, eye and heart opening lessons, from each other, as we live and grow together.
Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for opening me up. Thank you for your presence, and the chance to slow down my life, re-examine what is important, and connect so deeply to the Spirit of life!
You are loved unconditionally, and in the truest way possible with all the parts of my heart and soul.
Love,
Mom
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
My Birth Story: Jacob Berman Kearns' Arrival
Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to be a mom. There has always been a something inside me that thrives at the thought of taking care of another life, let alone having the ability to create that life within my own body. So, this birth story starts from the moment that my incredible husband and I decided to create a life, and see where the journey would take us.
We were very lucky, and got pregnant right away. It happened so quickly that I kind of couldn't believe it, and even though we were so thrilled, it took a little bit to set in that it was real! However, it wasn't too long before I started to feel different. I started feeling sick pretty soon into my pregnancy, and that sickness did not leave my side for 9 long months. I had a lot of mental and emotional struggles throughout my pregnancy, because for so many years I had romanticized what I thought being pregnant would be like. It was nothing like I hoped. I was nauseous for 9 months. I gained 52 pounds no matter what I ate, or how much I tried to exercise (when I wasn't throwing up). I felt like I had to sacrifice way more of myself than I ever really thought would be necessary. I felt uncomfortable on a whole new level in my own body and my own company.
What did help me through these long 9 months, was the support of my incredible husband, as well as the support of fellow moms-to-be who could relate on many levels what I was experiencing. If it had not been for these support systems, I would have gone very crazy!
Part of my romanticized version of being pregnant, also included a beautiful, natural water birth to finish out what I thought was going to be a lovely, glowing journey. I was always actually less anxious about giving birth than about actually being pregnant. I truly believe that giving birth is such a natural part of life, that my body was capable, so I didn't have to worry. (at least I was right about one thing!)
Skipping ahead now to the final weeks of my pregnancy…I went in for my routine follow up, the day before I was 38 weeks along, which was Monday, August 25, 2014. For the first time in my life, I had pretty high blood pressure. So, my midwife had be also leave a urine sample to be safe. She listed off the symptoms of high blood pressure that I should be mindful of when I went home, and to call if I felt any of them. Sure enough, the next morning I had about 3 of the 5 symptoms she described. So I called the office to see what I should do. My urine came back with pretty high levels of protein in it, so they wanted me to come into the hospital to be monitored and discuss my options. So, Jesse took the day off from work and drove me in.
After running a few tests, the midwife on call that day came back with my options: be induced that afternoon, or the next day. On Monday, the word induction wasn't even mentioned, and here we were 24 hours later, with induction being our only option, the only variable being which day it would happen. I was incredibly emotional at this news, due to the fact that my dream of a water birth was no longer on the table, but also because it meant that our baby was coming SOON. Not like he wasn't going to come eventually, but this felt really quick all of a sudden!
We decided to take 24 hours to go home, sleep in our own bed, pack up our hospital bags, cuddle with Dixie and calmly return to the hospital the next day. This was the best decision we made. It gave us time to digest the information, have one last night together as a two-some, and also feel somewhat prepared for our drive in the next day.
There have been so many stories of women being induced, in a way that ends in cesarian section. This is what I was most anxious about at this point. I took the night to accept the fact that water birth was off the table, but I still really wanted a natural childbirth, however it was going to happen. So, I went to acupuncture the evening before, and the morning of the day of induction. I shared my concerns with my acupuncturist, and he gave me two very strong induction treatments, and helped me feel more mentally calm for how our lives were about to change forever.
We arrived at the hospital around 2:30pm on Wednesday, August 27. We had to sit around and wait for a bit, and once a labor room opened up, we were moved in there. Around 5:30pm they gave me my first induction treatment. I felt the effects of it right away. For my whole pregnancy, I had been experiencing braxton-hicks contractions…and after this first treatment, I felt them very regularly, accompanied with some light cramping. The nurses were happy with my response, as many women don't start to feel anything until the 3rd or 4th dose. They can give you another dose every 4-6 hours. So around 9:30pm, I had my second dose, and we finished watching The Lion King…because of course we watched that movie the night before having a baby!
I had to be hooked up to a monitor and not eat anything for the first two hours after the treatment, to monitor baby's heartbeat and my contractions. So we fell asleep from about 11:30pm-1am. I woke up to pee, and got right back into bed, feeling exhausted. Once I laid back down, Jesse and I heard this little "pop" from inside my belly. Then I felt like I had to pee again! Alas, my water broke. I went to the bathroom, and right away, had my first contraction. It was INTENSE. From that first contraction on, things progressed incredibly fast. By 2:30am, Jesse called my mom to let her know, she may wanna be on call, because I was cooking…I had no idea how fast things would move so I suggested she leave first thing in the morning. Thirty minutes later, he called her back and said, "you should get in your car now and come to the hospital."
At 3:30am, I was full on pushing. I pushed and pushed with every bit of strength I had in me. I had never felt so much pain in my life. For 38 weeks, my son was perfectly positioned for birth. Three days before I delivered him, he learned how to flip around, and had decided to take full advantage of this liberty. So, he was "sunny side up" during my labor, which puts an incredible amount of pain and pressure on the sacral bone. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, and this was way more than I ever imagined I could handle.
Somewhere around 4:45am, my mom arrived in the delivery room. When she walked in, and asked the midwives how far along things were, and I heard them say, "Oh she is 10 cm dilated. This baby is coming soon." This gave me more strength to keep pushing. I held on to Jesse and my mom for dear life, and pushed for 30 more minutes. At 5:16am on August 28th, Jacob Berman Kearns came into the world, and I have never felt so much pride, and exhilaration in my life. When they handed me our son, right onto my chest, I couldn't believe he came out of me. The past 9 months of sufferable days of vomiting, stretch marks, and exhaustion instantly felt completely worth it to see this absolutely perfect tiny human look into my eyes. It was in that moment that I understood why people have more than 1 children. In that moment, my life changed forever and nothing else mattered in the world except the immeasurable amount of love that filled the room. There is just nothing like it. It was all in that moment that I felt closest to God and more connected to life than ever before. Unfortunately, because my labor was so quick, and Jacob was not in an ideal position, i had A LOT of tearing and about 7 stitches :(. The first 8 days home from the hospital were incredibly challenging, because on top of major swelling, and stitches, I also got a severe UTI to the point where I was stuck in bed all day and all night. This was an incredibly challenging opportunity for me to practice the truth of understanding that everything is temporary and this phase of pain and necessity to completely surrender would pass. Since I have a rockstar husband, who is a rockstar dad, this process was made so much easier.
Becoming a mother is the best thing that has ever happened for me and my beautiful family. I am in awe of our son every moment, and so proud of myself for weathering this experience to the best of my ability. Thank you to our friends and family who have always supported us, and continue to support our growing family and our growing love.
We were very lucky, and got pregnant right away. It happened so quickly that I kind of couldn't believe it, and even though we were so thrilled, it took a little bit to set in that it was real! However, it wasn't too long before I started to feel different. I started feeling sick pretty soon into my pregnancy, and that sickness did not leave my side for 9 long months. I had a lot of mental and emotional struggles throughout my pregnancy, because for so many years I had romanticized what I thought being pregnant would be like. It was nothing like I hoped. I was nauseous for 9 months. I gained 52 pounds no matter what I ate, or how much I tried to exercise (when I wasn't throwing up). I felt like I had to sacrifice way more of myself than I ever really thought would be necessary. I felt uncomfortable on a whole new level in my own body and my own company.
What did help me through these long 9 months, was the support of my incredible husband, as well as the support of fellow moms-to-be who could relate on many levels what I was experiencing. If it had not been for these support systems, I would have gone very crazy!
Part of my romanticized version of being pregnant, also included a beautiful, natural water birth to finish out what I thought was going to be a lovely, glowing journey. I was always actually less anxious about giving birth than about actually being pregnant. I truly believe that giving birth is such a natural part of life, that my body was capable, so I didn't have to worry. (at least I was right about one thing!)
Skipping ahead now to the final weeks of my pregnancy…I went in for my routine follow up, the day before I was 38 weeks along, which was Monday, August 25, 2014. For the first time in my life, I had pretty high blood pressure. So, my midwife had be also leave a urine sample to be safe. She listed off the symptoms of high blood pressure that I should be mindful of when I went home, and to call if I felt any of them. Sure enough, the next morning I had about 3 of the 5 symptoms she described. So I called the office to see what I should do. My urine came back with pretty high levels of protein in it, so they wanted me to come into the hospital to be monitored and discuss my options. So, Jesse took the day off from work and drove me in.
After running a few tests, the midwife on call that day came back with my options: be induced that afternoon, or the next day. On Monday, the word induction wasn't even mentioned, and here we were 24 hours later, with induction being our only option, the only variable being which day it would happen. I was incredibly emotional at this news, due to the fact that my dream of a water birth was no longer on the table, but also because it meant that our baby was coming SOON. Not like he wasn't going to come eventually, but this felt really quick all of a sudden!
We decided to take 24 hours to go home, sleep in our own bed, pack up our hospital bags, cuddle with Dixie and calmly return to the hospital the next day. This was the best decision we made. It gave us time to digest the information, have one last night together as a two-some, and also feel somewhat prepared for our drive in the next day.
There have been so many stories of women being induced, in a way that ends in cesarian section. This is what I was most anxious about at this point. I took the night to accept the fact that water birth was off the table, but I still really wanted a natural childbirth, however it was going to happen. So, I went to acupuncture the evening before, and the morning of the day of induction. I shared my concerns with my acupuncturist, and he gave me two very strong induction treatments, and helped me feel more mentally calm for how our lives were about to change forever.
We arrived at the hospital around 2:30pm on Wednesday, August 27. We had to sit around and wait for a bit, and once a labor room opened up, we were moved in there. Around 5:30pm they gave me my first induction treatment. I felt the effects of it right away. For my whole pregnancy, I had been experiencing braxton-hicks contractions…and after this first treatment, I felt them very regularly, accompanied with some light cramping. The nurses were happy with my response, as many women don't start to feel anything until the 3rd or 4th dose. They can give you another dose every 4-6 hours. So around 9:30pm, I had my second dose, and we finished watching The Lion King…because of course we watched that movie the night before having a baby!
I had to be hooked up to a monitor and not eat anything for the first two hours after the treatment, to monitor baby's heartbeat and my contractions. So we fell asleep from about 11:30pm-1am. I woke up to pee, and got right back into bed, feeling exhausted. Once I laid back down, Jesse and I heard this little "pop" from inside my belly. Then I felt like I had to pee again! Alas, my water broke. I went to the bathroom, and right away, had my first contraction. It was INTENSE. From that first contraction on, things progressed incredibly fast. By 2:30am, Jesse called my mom to let her know, she may wanna be on call, because I was cooking…I had no idea how fast things would move so I suggested she leave first thing in the morning. Thirty minutes later, he called her back and said, "you should get in your car now and come to the hospital."
At 3:30am, I was full on pushing. I pushed and pushed with every bit of strength I had in me. I had never felt so much pain in my life. For 38 weeks, my son was perfectly positioned for birth. Three days before I delivered him, he learned how to flip around, and had decided to take full advantage of this liberty. So, he was "sunny side up" during my labor, which puts an incredible amount of pain and pressure on the sacral bone. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, and this was way more than I ever imagined I could handle.
Somewhere around 4:45am, my mom arrived in the delivery room. When she walked in, and asked the midwives how far along things were, and I heard them say, "Oh she is 10 cm dilated. This baby is coming soon." This gave me more strength to keep pushing. I held on to Jesse and my mom for dear life, and pushed for 30 more minutes. At 5:16am on August 28th, Jacob Berman Kearns came into the world, and I have never felt so much pride, and exhilaration in my life. When they handed me our son, right onto my chest, I couldn't believe he came out of me. The past 9 months of sufferable days of vomiting, stretch marks, and exhaustion instantly felt completely worth it to see this absolutely perfect tiny human look into my eyes. It was in that moment that I understood why people have more than 1 children. In that moment, my life changed forever and nothing else mattered in the world except the immeasurable amount of love that filled the room. There is just nothing like it. It was all in that moment that I felt closest to God and more connected to life than ever before. Unfortunately, because my labor was so quick, and Jacob was not in an ideal position, i had A LOT of tearing and about 7 stitches :(. The first 8 days home from the hospital were incredibly challenging, because on top of major swelling, and stitches, I also got a severe UTI to the point where I was stuck in bed all day and all night. This was an incredibly challenging opportunity for me to practice the truth of understanding that everything is temporary and this phase of pain and necessity to completely surrender would pass. Since I have a rockstar husband, who is a rockstar dad, this process was made so much easier.
Becoming a mother is the best thing that has ever happened for me and my beautiful family. I am in awe of our son every moment, and so proud of myself for weathering this experience to the best of my ability. Thank you to our friends and family who have always supported us, and continue to support our growing family and our growing love.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
No Deeper Love, Than the Love of a Parent (to be).
I am very aware of my intensity as a person, a friend, a lover, and a woman. I am very passionate about love, and certain beliefs I have. I am also open to hearing other people's opinions, beliefs and feelings. I don't expect everyone to agree with me, or like what I have to say, or understand how I feel. If I did expect that, I would be constantly disappointed!
However, I would be lying if I said I didn't have expectations of what my life would be like once I got pregnant. I would also be lying if I said part of those expectations included feeling beautiful, magical, and amazing for creating a life inside my own body. Not only did I expect that, I wanted it so bad. I wanted to feel like a goddess, and be graceful, in mind, body and spirit. I find myself still disappointed that I haven't been able to accept so many things about my experience so far. I feel bad about how much I complain, and how miserable I feel through most days. I feel like I am doing a bad job most of the time, because I haven't accepted so many of these difficult challenges that my pregnancy has presented me with. I feel bad that after a long day of work, my husband comes home to his wife lying on the couch, with swollen feet, a barfy tummy, and a general bad attitude. These past 8 months have been some of the hardest months of my life in many ways.
I will say though, that in many ways, I have also gained an even deeper appreciation for what true love really is in these last 8 months. I am still able to recall the extreme joy and gratitude I felt when my pregnancy test read "positive." I am still able to recall the very deep need to create a life with the man I couldn't imagine living in this world without…and being blessed enough for it to happen so easily. My need and desire to start adding to our family felt as necessary as breath, water and food is for us to survive. It's the only thing that made sense for us to do. And when faced with so many physical, mental and emotional challenges through these last 8 months of building this baby inside my body, I hold onto the fact that our love is what created this experience (along with biology, I know).
Love isn't always rainbows, and fairytale endings. Sometimes love is messy, and sometimes it's exhausting, and challenging. But the truest kind of love, I believe, is always constant, reliable, stable, and trustworthy. It reminds us to be kind, compassionate, and to soften. We are all searching for it in one way or another. Maybe we seek it in a life partner, or from a parent, or family member, a pet, or a friend. But we need it to survive. It's crucial for our existence as a human race to continue living and thriving.
These last eight months in some ways, have been a test of my relationship with my husband, but I think more so than anything, they have been a test to my relationship with myself. My husband has met every single challenge with incredible strength, grace, wisdom and support. He reminds me every day why we made this conscious decision to become parents together. When all I want to do is throw up, cry, and run away from my discomfort, he tells me I'm beautiful and that I'm doing a really good job. He tells me how much he appreciates the sacrifices I am making to create our family. And he actually means everything he says. So, no matter how negative I am, he always listens, he always finds a strength I have to point out to me.
So, why can't I believe him? Why can't I see what he sees? All I can seem to do is look ahead to a time where I have my body back, and don't feel so damn nauseous all the time. I doubt myself every day. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin, and don't like looking in the mirror. I haven't accepted this new body, or experience with any kind of grace. But then: then I think about holding our son for the first time, and everything seems to just melt into a puddle of neutral territory. I think about how much I already deeply love this child inside of me, and how I want to make sure nothing bad will ever happen to this incredible being that is growing as a result of the truest love I have ever known. And that thought is all it takes for me to know that all the struggle is worth it. My current particular struggles are all temporary. I will have future struggles. We all will. But the one thing that will always be constant, stable, comforting and trustworthy, is our love. Our love for each other. Our love for our family. Our love for the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. It's the most powerful feeling I have ever felt. It brings inspiring words, feelings and insights to the surface. It softens us, and makes us so human. It illuminates how truly vast our capacity is to heal, ourselves and one another.
The more love there is in the world, the more compassion, healing and acceptance naturally follows. So far, these last 8 months have sent my mind to places I never saw them going, and opened my heart even wider than I ever thought possible. So what will the next 8 months bring? And after that? The possibilities are endless, daunting, exciting, and incredibly vast.
My wish, is for all of you to feel the love in some aspect that I have been able to experience in these last 8 months. Sometimes that love is in the form of vomiting, screaming, crying, laughing, and simply just sitting. But its always there...
...and for that, I am truly grateful.
However, I would be lying if I said I didn't have expectations of what my life would be like once I got pregnant. I would also be lying if I said part of those expectations included feeling beautiful, magical, and amazing for creating a life inside my own body. Not only did I expect that, I wanted it so bad. I wanted to feel like a goddess, and be graceful, in mind, body and spirit. I find myself still disappointed that I haven't been able to accept so many things about my experience so far. I feel bad about how much I complain, and how miserable I feel through most days. I feel like I am doing a bad job most of the time, because I haven't accepted so many of these difficult challenges that my pregnancy has presented me with. I feel bad that after a long day of work, my husband comes home to his wife lying on the couch, with swollen feet, a barfy tummy, and a general bad attitude. These past 8 months have been some of the hardest months of my life in many ways.
I will say though, that in many ways, I have also gained an even deeper appreciation for what true love really is in these last 8 months. I am still able to recall the extreme joy and gratitude I felt when my pregnancy test read "positive." I am still able to recall the very deep need to create a life with the man I couldn't imagine living in this world without…and being blessed enough for it to happen so easily. My need and desire to start adding to our family felt as necessary as breath, water and food is for us to survive. It's the only thing that made sense for us to do. And when faced with so many physical, mental and emotional challenges through these last 8 months of building this baby inside my body, I hold onto the fact that our love is what created this experience (along with biology, I know).
Love isn't always rainbows, and fairytale endings. Sometimes love is messy, and sometimes it's exhausting, and challenging. But the truest kind of love, I believe, is always constant, reliable, stable, and trustworthy. It reminds us to be kind, compassionate, and to soften. We are all searching for it in one way or another. Maybe we seek it in a life partner, or from a parent, or family member, a pet, or a friend. But we need it to survive. It's crucial for our existence as a human race to continue living and thriving.
These last eight months in some ways, have been a test of my relationship with my husband, but I think more so than anything, they have been a test to my relationship with myself. My husband has met every single challenge with incredible strength, grace, wisdom and support. He reminds me every day why we made this conscious decision to become parents together. When all I want to do is throw up, cry, and run away from my discomfort, he tells me I'm beautiful and that I'm doing a really good job. He tells me how much he appreciates the sacrifices I am making to create our family. And he actually means everything he says. So, no matter how negative I am, he always listens, he always finds a strength I have to point out to me.
So, why can't I believe him? Why can't I see what he sees? All I can seem to do is look ahead to a time where I have my body back, and don't feel so damn nauseous all the time. I doubt myself every day. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin, and don't like looking in the mirror. I haven't accepted this new body, or experience with any kind of grace. But then: then I think about holding our son for the first time, and everything seems to just melt into a puddle of neutral territory. I think about how much I already deeply love this child inside of me, and how I want to make sure nothing bad will ever happen to this incredible being that is growing as a result of the truest love I have ever known. And that thought is all it takes for me to know that all the struggle is worth it. My current particular struggles are all temporary. I will have future struggles. We all will. But the one thing that will always be constant, stable, comforting and trustworthy, is our love. Our love for each other. Our love for our family. Our love for the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. It's the most powerful feeling I have ever felt. It brings inspiring words, feelings and insights to the surface. It softens us, and makes us so human. It illuminates how truly vast our capacity is to heal, ourselves and one another.
The more love there is in the world, the more compassion, healing and acceptance naturally follows. So far, these last 8 months have sent my mind to places I never saw them going, and opened my heart even wider than I ever thought possible. So what will the next 8 months bring? And after that? The possibilities are endless, daunting, exciting, and incredibly vast.
My wish, is for all of you to feel the love in some aspect that I have been able to experience in these last 8 months. Sometimes that love is in the form of vomiting, screaming, crying, laughing, and simply just sitting. But its always there...
...and for that, I am truly grateful.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Letting Go.
I feel like writing today. Like maybe it will help me release something that I'm unconsciously holding onto. Maybe because I have finally reached my final trimester of pregnancy, there is something inside me that knows when the day comes to deliver this baby, its going to be about letting go of so much. This whole pregnancy has been about letting go, and it's been the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I don't think I've done a very graceful job of it so far, but then again, we never are able to see ourselves accurately through our own eyes. Some days I feel so proud of myself for just getting out of bed, and doing the best I can do. Other days, I constantly think I can do better and can't stop beating myself up over so many little things. I know on some level that many of my ups and downs are very much connected to the insane pregnancy hormones, that feel like they control my life…but it doesn't make the feelings any less real. Generally in my life, I have felt that I am a very articulate person, and since I've been pregnant, I have felt like a blabbering ball of nonsense, which makes me cry a lot. I feel so much at once, all the time, it seems easier to just cry rather than try and explain what is going on. I think I feel a lot of resentment towards our culture in the sense that it feels like there really just is not a supportive community around pregnancy, and what really happens. I feel like I am constantly craving support and empathy from others, and when I don't get it, I feel like people are annoyed with how needy I seem to be. Of course much of this could just be in my head because I'm vulnerable and sensitive to everything right now…but again, does that make it any less real?
I pride myself on being a good friend. A friend who listens, who shows up when needed, and who is loyal and present. I have not been a good friend to anyone, especially myself lately, because I have been so consumed with feeling so sick during this pregnancy. So sick, and so incredibly uncomfortable in my changing body that I no longer seem to connect with on a regular basis. I don't feel sexy anymore, I don't feel comfortable in my own skin, and I certainly don't enjoy my own company because I'm never feeling healthy and well. I feel spiritually disconnected, which is bizarre to me, because I always thought that creating a life would make me the most connected I could ever be. I feel like this pregnancy has set the course for a whole new identity that I didn't really want, or think I needed…and it's so easy to feel lost and consumed by the whole experience. I haven't been able to sit down, and genuinely talk with someone about the deeper emotions and experiences of this pregnancy, and I don't know if I will be able to, because I don't know if that person exists. I don't think I have ever felt so spiritually lost or disconnected before, and it's very startling and scary to just feel like I'm moving through space each day, kind of going through the motions.
I find it therapeutic to laugh at many of the changes and challenges pregnancy brings, but I also feel like it protects me from digging deeper to the actual emotion behind the "funny anger" or "hilarious frustration" of this whole experience. I had no idea everything would feel so challenging. I had no idea I would feel sick the whole time. I really just had no idea how hard everything would be. And I think the reason letting go is the most challenging part of life for me right now, is because I am still so sad that I haven't enjoyed much of this pregnancy. I wanted to enjoy it, I wanted all my expectations to be accurate. I wanted to feel beautiful and full of life and joy. And all of my expectations have just been crushed one after another. It's like I have no time to grieve, and I just have to let go, but I can't. I feel stuck and incapable of moving forward, because I don't know how to just feel sick, and accept it. I don't know how to accept the discomfort in my own skin. I don't know how to not judge everything I do. And all of these things hold me back but I don't know how to let go.
I don't want to be fixed. I don't think I am broken. But I am going through a major life change, and I don't know how to deal with so many feelings and anxieties that accompany the whole transition. There are so many things I want to do, but simply don't have the energy or physical capability to do right now, and it's incredibly hard for me to accept that. It's isolating and frustrating and upsetting and makes me cry. Like everything else.
How do I find joy and acceptance in something so incredibly unexpectedly and fiercely challenging?
I pride myself on being a good friend. A friend who listens, who shows up when needed, and who is loyal and present. I have not been a good friend to anyone, especially myself lately, because I have been so consumed with feeling so sick during this pregnancy. So sick, and so incredibly uncomfortable in my changing body that I no longer seem to connect with on a regular basis. I don't feel sexy anymore, I don't feel comfortable in my own skin, and I certainly don't enjoy my own company because I'm never feeling healthy and well. I feel spiritually disconnected, which is bizarre to me, because I always thought that creating a life would make me the most connected I could ever be. I feel like this pregnancy has set the course for a whole new identity that I didn't really want, or think I needed…and it's so easy to feel lost and consumed by the whole experience. I haven't been able to sit down, and genuinely talk with someone about the deeper emotions and experiences of this pregnancy, and I don't know if I will be able to, because I don't know if that person exists. I don't think I have ever felt so spiritually lost or disconnected before, and it's very startling and scary to just feel like I'm moving through space each day, kind of going through the motions.
I find it therapeutic to laugh at many of the changes and challenges pregnancy brings, but I also feel like it protects me from digging deeper to the actual emotion behind the "funny anger" or "hilarious frustration" of this whole experience. I had no idea everything would feel so challenging. I had no idea I would feel sick the whole time. I really just had no idea how hard everything would be. And I think the reason letting go is the most challenging part of life for me right now, is because I am still so sad that I haven't enjoyed much of this pregnancy. I wanted to enjoy it, I wanted all my expectations to be accurate. I wanted to feel beautiful and full of life and joy. And all of my expectations have just been crushed one after another. It's like I have no time to grieve, and I just have to let go, but I can't. I feel stuck and incapable of moving forward, because I don't know how to just feel sick, and accept it. I don't know how to accept the discomfort in my own skin. I don't know how to not judge everything I do. And all of these things hold me back but I don't know how to let go.
I don't want to be fixed. I don't think I am broken. But I am going through a major life change, and I don't know how to deal with so many feelings and anxieties that accompany the whole transition. There are so many things I want to do, but simply don't have the energy or physical capability to do right now, and it's incredibly hard for me to accept that. It's isolating and frustrating and upsetting and makes me cry. Like everything else.
How do I find joy and acceptance in something so incredibly unexpectedly and fiercely challenging?
Thursday, March 20, 2014
A Few Realizations and Rants of a Pregnant Yogi...
I have always believed that being pregnant would be the best days of my life. I have always wanted to be a mother since I can remember. The thought of being able to grow a human inside of my own body, and birth it into this world, has always made me feel sort of magical on some level. Because when you get right down to it…it's pretty friggin AMAZING.
Then…I got pregnant. Talk about expectations! I am always trying to teach my students to let go of their expectations on their mats, so they can just enjoy the journey. Well, apparently taking my own advice on this route, is a hell of a lot easier said than done. Being pregnant (so far) has been the most challenging, uncomfortable, least glamorous experience of my life. I don't want to sugar coat things here. So, if you don't want the details, stop reading now.
Before I even knew, officially, that I was pregnant, my breasts started aching to the point of an untouchable caliber. I thought, meh, maybe it's just bad PMS, not wanting to get my hopes up that we got pregnant SO easily as I know it isn't as easy for everyone. The achy breasts? That wasn't so bad. But then there was the CONSTANT ravaging starvation, ALL DAY LONG. If I didn't eat, I felt like I might throw up, but if I made myself eat, then the urge to barf, was a bit less and in the background. So, I hoarded food like a chipmunk by my bedside and munched on crackers, fruit, and water ALL NIGHT LONG. It was like clockwork, every 90-120 minutes I would wake up feeling as thought I was literally dying of starvation. This phase lasted about 6 weeks. Once I started being able to get the food hoarding under control to only 1-2 times a night, the extreme nausea set in. And I'm talking, nausea ALL THE TIME. From weeks 9-13, I was running to the bathroom to typically dry heave my face off, or vomit up the last thing I ate (if I was lucky). The vomiting was actually better than the dry heaving, because when I finished vomiting, I actually felt better. With the dry heaving, the nausea never went away.
So, my trip to Nicaragua was right around the corner, and I was feeling just so incredibly terrible. I forgot to mention the migraines. The migraines that would be exacerbated by the dry heaving. And then the nausea that would be exacerbated by the migraines. Through all this misery and discomfort, I was also able to feel so guilty. Yup, guilty. "I'm supposed to be enjoying this…creating life and becoming a mom!" But to be honest, I just felt and still feel like, I kind of just suck at being pregnant. So to pile on top of the guilt, was disappointment in myself.
Right before my trip, my midwife (FINALLY) prescribed me a pregnancy-safe medicine to help fight the constant nausea. AND IT WORKED! So I had some temporary relief from wanting to barf my face off all the time. Finally, I was able to get psyched about my trip (2 days before I left). When I got there, I don't know if it was the warm weather, or new environment, but I felt like that "light switch" that moms have talked about before, just went off! I wasn't feeling crappy anymore! I had a week off from feeling terrible, dry heaving all the time, and feeling guilty. I thought I had turned the corner, and beat this morning (all day) sickness in the butt.
Within 2 minutes of coming back home from my trip, I was dry heaving in the bathroom again. The utter disappointment and pure frustration that overtook my entire body is pretty much indescribable. I had this surge of anger because the one week I felt good, I wasn't even able to share it with my husband, who has been putting up with my bad mood and constant sickness for 2 months now. I spent my first weekend home feeling terrible all over again. The guilt, disappointment and now added bonus of anger were so powerful and stifling.
I saw my midwife the following Monday and broke down in her office. Not only has this pregnancy taken a physical toll on me, but I felt officially defeated and emotionally beaten to the core. I just wanted to curl up and cry, and stay hibernating till summer…or maybe even till the baby is born.
Today, at 15 weeks and 2 days pregnant, I still feel awful. I have these brief moments of relief, and naively get my hopes up that I am turning this corner everyone talks about…and then I start dry heaving, or waking up in the middle of the night to run to the bathroom.
I have realized how incredibly challenging it is for me to feel so uncomfortable in my own body, and so out of control of everything my body is experiencing. Vomiting is one of the most vulnerable places to be, in my opinion. It feels like my body's rejection of something, and that's really hard. I have spent so much of my life striving to accept my body and feel comfortable with myself, and all of that just feels like it's been thrown out the window the moment I got pregnant. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
So, my lesson, that I am sure will continue to be a challenge throughout this whole experience, is to accept my lack of control. Accept my growing love handles that make it really awkward to do reverse warrior. To accept my now (already) DD breasts that feel like they get in the way even more than my growing belly. This is SO hard for me. And that has to be ok. Don't get me wrong,…I am INCREDIBLY grateful that I was able to conceive so easily, and that we have been given, what I still believe to be, the biggest honor and blessing in this life: to become parents. I will never take that for granted, because I still think it's magical on some level, what I am able to do with this body. But it has to be ok for me to bitch and moan about how crappy I feel ALL THE TIME. It is so hard to be positive and excited when all I want to do is throw up.
I feel like there is a really big stigma against pregnant women who complain, because men, and non-pregnant women simply CANNOT understand what it is like. Just as I'm sure it would be hard to understand what it is like to feel the baby kick for the first time from inside your own body. There seems to be a lack of compassion and understanding for the struggles involved with growing a human. I don't want to hear things like "oh well it will get better soon…it's all worth it." Or, "the harder the pregnancy, the stronger the baby!" I don't need you to justify my crappy feeling. But I wouldn't be upset if you said "I'm so sorry you are feeling this way. I hope you feel better soon." That's what you would say to someone with the flu, right?
Anyway, you may think this rant is selfish and terrible, that there it is: the truth about pregnancy for me is that I feel like I suck at it. It's hard, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually because of how blocked I feel on all those levels. Everything shuts down and is put on hold to grow this baby, and I am still expected to live my life like a regular person, working 6 days a week, and being positive. Maybe I will turn a corner soon. Maybe I won't. The hardest part for me is the not knowing when this unsettled feeling will go away. And what better way to face it, than articulate how I feel? Maybe I can start working things out that way.
I know I will be a wonderful mom. And I've heard that every pregnancy is different. But I want to be present, with this baby, with this pregnancy, and it's really hard to do that when I feel so down all the time. Can't that be ok right now?
Then…I got pregnant. Talk about expectations! I am always trying to teach my students to let go of their expectations on their mats, so they can just enjoy the journey. Well, apparently taking my own advice on this route, is a hell of a lot easier said than done. Being pregnant (so far) has been the most challenging, uncomfortable, least glamorous experience of my life. I don't want to sugar coat things here. So, if you don't want the details, stop reading now.
Before I even knew, officially, that I was pregnant, my breasts started aching to the point of an untouchable caliber. I thought, meh, maybe it's just bad PMS, not wanting to get my hopes up that we got pregnant SO easily as I know it isn't as easy for everyone. The achy breasts? That wasn't so bad. But then there was the CONSTANT ravaging starvation, ALL DAY LONG. If I didn't eat, I felt like I might throw up, but if I made myself eat, then the urge to barf, was a bit less and in the background. So, I hoarded food like a chipmunk by my bedside and munched on crackers, fruit, and water ALL NIGHT LONG. It was like clockwork, every 90-120 minutes I would wake up feeling as thought I was literally dying of starvation. This phase lasted about 6 weeks. Once I started being able to get the food hoarding under control to only 1-2 times a night, the extreme nausea set in. And I'm talking, nausea ALL THE TIME. From weeks 9-13, I was running to the bathroom to typically dry heave my face off, or vomit up the last thing I ate (if I was lucky). The vomiting was actually better than the dry heaving, because when I finished vomiting, I actually felt better. With the dry heaving, the nausea never went away.
So, my trip to Nicaragua was right around the corner, and I was feeling just so incredibly terrible. I forgot to mention the migraines. The migraines that would be exacerbated by the dry heaving. And then the nausea that would be exacerbated by the migraines. Through all this misery and discomfort, I was also able to feel so guilty. Yup, guilty. "I'm supposed to be enjoying this…creating life and becoming a mom!" But to be honest, I just felt and still feel like, I kind of just suck at being pregnant. So to pile on top of the guilt, was disappointment in myself.
Right before my trip, my midwife (FINALLY) prescribed me a pregnancy-safe medicine to help fight the constant nausea. AND IT WORKED! So I had some temporary relief from wanting to barf my face off all the time. Finally, I was able to get psyched about my trip (2 days before I left). When I got there, I don't know if it was the warm weather, or new environment, but I felt like that "light switch" that moms have talked about before, just went off! I wasn't feeling crappy anymore! I had a week off from feeling terrible, dry heaving all the time, and feeling guilty. I thought I had turned the corner, and beat this morning (all day) sickness in the butt.
Within 2 minutes of coming back home from my trip, I was dry heaving in the bathroom again. The utter disappointment and pure frustration that overtook my entire body is pretty much indescribable. I had this surge of anger because the one week I felt good, I wasn't even able to share it with my husband, who has been putting up with my bad mood and constant sickness for 2 months now. I spent my first weekend home feeling terrible all over again. The guilt, disappointment and now added bonus of anger were so powerful and stifling.
I saw my midwife the following Monday and broke down in her office. Not only has this pregnancy taken a physical toll on me, but I felt officially defeated and emotionally beaten to the core. I just wanted to curl up and cry, and stay hibernating till summer…or maybe even till the baby is born.
Today, at 15 weeks and 2 days pregnant, I still feel awful. I have these brief moments of relief, and naively get my hopes up that I am turning this corner everyone talks about…and then I start dry heaving, or waking up in the middle of the night to run to the bathroom.
I have realized how incredibly challenging it is for me to feel so uncomfortable in my own body, and so out of control of everything my body is experiencing. Vomiting is one of the most vulnerable places to be, in my opinion. It feels like my body's rejection of something, and that's really hard. I have spent so much of my life striving to accept my body and feel comfortable with myself, and all of that just feels like it's been thrown out the window the moment I got pregnant. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
So, my lesson, that I am sure will continue to be a challenge throughout this whole experience, is to accept my lack of control. Accept my growing love handles that make it really awkward to do reverse warrior. To accept my now (already) DD breasts that feel like they get in the way even more than my growing belly. This is SO hard for me. And that has to be ok. Don't get me wrong,…I am INCREDIBLY grateful that I was able to conceive so easily, and that we have been given, what I still believe to be, the biggest honor and blessing in this life: to become parents. I will never take that for granted, because I still think it's magical on some level, what I am able to do with this body. But it has to be ok for me to bitch and moan about how crappy I feel ALL THE TIME. It is so hard to be positive and excited when all I want to do is throw up.
I feel like there is a really big stigma against pregnant women who complain, because men, and non-pregnant women simply CANNOT understand what it is like. Just as I'm sure it would be hard to understand what it is like to feel the baby kick for the first time from inside your own body. There seems to be a lack of compassion and understanding for the struggles involved with growing a human. I don't want to hear things like "oh well it will get better soon…it's all worth it." Or, "the harder the pregnancy, the stronger the baby!" I don't need you to justify my crappy feeling. But I wouldn't be upset if you said "I'm so sorry you are feeling this way. I hope you feel better soon." That's what you would say to someone with the flu, right?
Anyway, you may think this rant is selfish and terrible, that there it is: the truth about pregnancy for me is that I feel like I suck at it. It's hard, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually because of how blocked I feel on all those levels. Everything shuts down and is put on hold to grow this baby, and I am still expected to live my life like a regular person, working 6 days a week, and being positive. Maybe I will turn a corner soon. Maybe I won't. The hardest part for me is the not knowing when this unsettled feeling will go away. And what better way to face it, than articulate how I feel? Maybe I can start working things out that way.
I know I will be a wonderful mom. And I've heard that every pregnancy is different. But I want to be present, with this baby, with this pregnancy, and it's really hard to do that when I feel so down all the time. Can't that be ok right now?
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