The last three months.

I was sitting in the NICU Facebook messaging with a friend when he asked me, "how do you feel after the last three months?" I didn't know how to answer that question. He volunteered a simple "well, you survived, right?" The conversation moved on and I'm sure he never thought about the conversation again but the question has been circling in my head since he asked it almost two months ago.

The "last three months" he was referring to were the wedding, cross-country move, and having a baby. I wasn't able to answer his question because I hadn't taken any time to sit down and decompress over the last three months. With so much happening at once, I had learned to look ahead rather than enjoy the moment. (You can verify this with my bridesmaids as my wedding was just a stressed, upset version of me all weekend.) I have started journal entries to turn into blogs about the last three months but only ever accomplished a sentence or two. I've never had the words and still don't.

I think the reason that the question of the last three months sticks in my head is because I don't think that I have answered the question "well, you survived, right?" I don't feel as though I have survived through those months. If you sat me down in June and asked me to describe myself it would include the words: single, runner, blogger, nanny, Buffalonian, health nut. If you asked me if any of those things held true now, the answer would be no.

I find myself completely changed by the last five months of my life. I can name the basics changes but I haven't figured out what is at the core of me. I am a mother, a wife, and a Washingtonian. I feed, change, rock to sleep and try, try, try to comfort a colicky baby. Although I wanted to stay home with Porter, I feel like I have accomplished nothing at the end of the day. I will admit to you that I spent almost 3 hours creating our Christmas cards today on Shutterfly because I knew that it is one of the only tasks that I can put a checkmark near and own as a completed project. Most days I have no doubt that I will find myself working outside the home within the year because I want to be helpful to others outside my home.

I can't rightfully say that I am a runner or even that health-minded anymore (unless you can include reading Runner's World). I look in the mirror and see stretch marks left from my sweet boy that and I can't help but be disgusted at myself. I hate the reminders on TimeHop of the healthy relationship I spent two years building with my body. I feel like I broke up with a great love of my life but with no remorse whatsoever. I can state the simple fact that I don't think I will ever run a race again. I don't know if it's the exhaustion or awkward pains from nursing, but it doesn't hurt me to say. What does hurt is the happiness that I once had at the end of a workout, or writing a blog about body image. For me, running and working out gave me obtainable goals (sure, it was wonderful getting killer abs and legs in the process). Right now, my goals are measured in getting the baby in to bed in less than an hour, taking a shower and finishing the laundry in one day.

I'll never say that I regret having a baby or that I regret moving. In the scheme of life choices, if I were to start again, I would not have chosen to do them at the same time. It hasn't left my identity much to hold on to. I used to have these dreams and desires, some were the reason that we moved out West, but I just don't find them calling to me any longer. Maybe God is preparing my heart for new dreams. I think it's okay to admit that for right now I am a little lost.

I keep wanting for a way to answer the question of "How are you feeling after all the changes in your life?" The truth is that life isn't like a book. There are no ends to chapters and neat little bows on the ends of stories. Life is a marathon with an undetermined end. Life will continue to throw changes my way. Life will continue to make me question who I am and what I stand for. My job is to live a life that is meaningful and glorifying of the one who made me. Right now, I don't know exactly what that looks like, but that doesn't mean I stop trying to figure it out.

Birth Story: Porter James Ulysses Simon.

There are a few things in life that we can fully predict or control no matter how much we try. No matter how detailed our "birth plan" is, we can not predict the time, the place, or the way a mommy or baby will respond to the experience of new life. I wish we all were able to walk away with the births that we had imagined in our minds and not the stories that many of us end up with.

Jim and I had originally chosen to go to an obstetrician and have a tradition hospital birth. After doing our research (most influential being the movie "The Business of Being Born" and book "The Thinking Woman's Guide to Better Birth") we quickly came to see hospital birth as a slippery slope of interventions. So what we decided in Buffalo was to have a home birth in order to avoid an unnecessary c-section, being induced and asking for an epidural. Women have been giving birth naturally since the beginning of time and it would not hurt me to do the same. When we moved to Spokane, we chose to use a birthing center instead of doing an at home birth (mostly to save our beautiful hardwood floors)

Our birth plan was simple. Birth in a birthing center so that there was no hope of unnecessary interventions unless absolutely emergent. Beyond that my only two wishes were not to birth in the tub and that Jim was able to catch the baby. We didn't go to birthing classes and we didn't stress ourselves out about unnecessary details about pregnancy and birth. We each picked one book, read it, and stuck with what it had taught us. At the end of the day our theory was that birth is natural and in the moment I would know what to do even if I didn't use a certain "method".

September 14 was our official due date. I was patient for the next few days after that but by 41 weeks, I was ready for our little man to join us. With family in town, Porter decided to be stubborn and come the morning my parents had left for Seattle. As a friend said, Porter knew that he wanted to arrive with just Mommy and Daddy around. The night before Porter joined us we tried Evening Primrose Oil and Red Raspberry tea. I will not be one of those people who says those made us go into labor but they may have sped along a process that had already began.

My contractions started at 7:30 am on the twenty-fourth. I was nervous for months about what a contraction would feel like and if I would notice it. People had described it to me as intense period cramps. Never having period cramps, or Braxton Hicks, this still left me completely in the dark. Jim spent the morning at home with me and only realized that I was having contractions around 12:30 pm because I had on headphones and was accidentally making small grunting noises. I had no early labor signs so I did not want to alarm Jim if I wasn't actually in labor. I sent him to work for his afternoon meetings and went next door to my neighbor's house. She happens to be a midwife so I thought that she would be able to tell me if these contractions were real or not. She confirmed that they were indeed contractions but that she did not think I would have the baby until the following day because of how little distress I seemed to be in. However, she still spent the next few hours counting my contractions with me and distracting me with conversation. She answered last minute questions I had and filled me in on all the things that no one tells you. I am so thankful for that because otherwise there would have been several things I was not truly prepared for post-birth.

Everyone told me to go for a walk and move through the contractions because that would help (I'm calling bullshit on that). I tried a hot bath but that did nothing to help. I just landed in bed with my pregnancy pillow for comfort. At some point I realized I couldn't go through the pain without a hand to hold or a familiar smile so at 3:30, I texted Jim and told him that I couldn't do it alone and I needed him to come home. Jim stopped to get me Gatorade and a bouquet of flowers to look at to keep me in a positive mindset (there may have been chocolate involved but I can't remember). In reality there is very little that anyone can do to make you feel better during contractions. Jim stayed in bed with me to time my contractions and hold my hand. At this point my contractions were 2 minutes apart and a minute in length (they never got any closer than this for the rest of labor) but I was able to sleep between them. Jim stayed in contact with our midwives as the contractions got more painful. I remember distinctly not wanting to be touched during this time period and even the hand I thought I wanted to hold, I absolutely did not.

Once 8 pm rolled around, it was impossible for me to sleep and we tried putting on the Blacklist as a distraction. At this point my foggy mind thought that Tylenol was some wonder drug that would numb all the pain like an epidural, so I hesitated to take it because I wanted to be able to give the midwife accurate information on how I felt. Jim talked me into taking one (and it was most definitely NOT a wonder drug). I started having the urge to push but my midwife said as a first time Mom that it was probably just my water membrane creating pressure and that I shouldn't push. I went into the bathroom and pushed, losing my mucus plug and having my bloody show. Now, I was absolutely insistent we were going to the Birth Center no matter what the midwife said. After 14 hours of contractions, I had already begun pushing against the midwife's recommendation.

The hours between 5:30 and 9:30 (when we arrived at the Birthing Center), were probably the most challenging of my whole life. Charting your contractions every few minutes for hours and hours makes you conscious of every single pain. Although you know the goal you are working towards, you don't know when the challenge ends and when the hardest parts are over. I assumed we would get to the birthing center and she would tell me that we only made it through one tradition time. The rule during transition times is that you often feel like you just want to give up and I had only had that thought once when I said to Jim "if this is the beginning of contractions, we are in for a long day".  For me, the hardest part ended as soon as I was able to push. The only way I survived the drive to the Birthing Center was by continuing to push, thinking that even though I was pushing I still had plenty of time.

When the midwife examined me upon arrival she told me that I was more than ready to push (yes, I said that about an hour ago when I started pushing).  I was already all the way dilated and Porter's head was only about a fingertip away from where it needed to be. Now that I was able to push, I was loving labor. I was able to joke between contractions and loved the challenge of seeing how much progress I could make with each push (must be the runner in me). Before we worked on pushing the baby out, I would have to break my water. After an hour of no progress the midwife decided this was the time to break my water. Unfortunately, I had to tell her that she had successful done this which means that she never had sight of the meconium in the membrane (which is what we've been told by nurse friends is when we should have called 911).

Shortly after my water was broke, Porter's heartbeat started to dip into the 70 and 80 range at which point it was made clear to me that there was an urgency to pushing him out. They did not know what was causing his distress, he had been fine only 10 minutes earlier. I remember the concern in both our midwife and birthing assistants voices as they told me directly with each push that I needed to get this baby out now but it was of course Jim's voice that I heard out of them all. I would later learn that Jim had seen the midwife and birthing assistant giving each other looks that spoke to the urgency of the situation without saying a word. He didn't let on to the concern but made sure to tell me I was doing a great job and that I needed to just push a little harder next time. By this time, I had tried 4 different positions to push the baby out. The position that I birthed in allowed Jim to be an active partner in the birth. Although he didn't get to catch the baby, he held me up for the final pushes that introduced Porter into this world. There is nothing more beautiful than feeling like we really did this as a family rather than Jim simply holding my hand.

I don't think there's really a description for the moments after a birth. At this point in Porter's birth story, Jim and I have completely different outtakes on what happened. I blame it on that happiness hormones. Porter arrived in this world a shade of blue that isn't often seen on humans. When you expect to hear crying but you don't even see a breathing baby within the first 90 seconds of his life, it is horrifying. Jim was cognizant of this but I was unworried, knowing we would just call a doctor and they would fix whatever was wrong need be. Once Porter was breathing, we still heard words like "respiratory distress". I can't explain the feeling of holding your baby skin-to-skin for the first time. The world seems to fall away and you know that you made this beautiful little guy out of love.

I quickly handed him over to Jim to hold skin-to-skin because frankly, there are parts of birth you just don't come prepared for and I needed a moment to collect myself. Jim's first reaction was that Porter's hands were blue. The midwife got some gloves for Porter's hands, although by this point I think we all knew that lack of warmth was not the cause of his blue hands. I tried to breastfeed Porter but he knew that his top priority was breathing and that he didn't have the lungs to eat and breath at the same time. They hooked Porter up to a machine that would tell how much oxygen he was breathing in and then keeping in his system. The number was only in the low 70s (usually an average human has a number between 90-100).

I think we felt somewhat lied to about the situation at hand. It took a period of 30 minutes to be explained what could possibly be wrong. At that point we were told that they delay sending babies to the hospital because if they are sent to the NICU they are held for a week even if there is no justification. It is possible that they would be able to keep him breathing and he would just clear up--it had happened to them before. At points during this process while they back charted, and on the way to the hospital, we were left to give oxygen to Porter. We were told that "they were not confident that their machine was working because of the numbers it was reading". Our midwife was called to a second, at-home birth, 20 minutes away while they were still trying to figure out if Porter would hold oxygen. At no point was it suggested that aspirational pneumonia was a possibility so I believe I stayed in blissful ignorance that maybe this was nothing and they just didn't have the machines and technology to help in the way that Porter needed.

I can not say enough about our birthing assistant, Brittany, who made sure that the midwife answered the questions that we had, brought us to the ER at Sacred Heart (where she also works) and talked us through what was happening. She stayed with us until the baby was fully admitted and walked us out when we went home for showers. She came back and visited us several days later with a blanket that she had made. If not for her, our experience would have been chaotic and more heartbreaking than necessary. We felt as though our midwife swung by the hospital to talk to the doctors on her way to the second delivery, not to give them the correct information but to justify that she had not done anything wrong. At this point, of course, we keep replaying in our mind what had went wrong and what wasn't handled to our liking. I will say that up until the point that Porter arrived, this was one of the most beautiful and empowering situations of my life. I've never been so proud of something that I have done.

We arrived at the emergency room exactly 2 hours after Porter was born. I have never been into an emergency room, let alone a pediatric emergency room. Within a minute, there were at least ten staff members, including several doctors, ready to help our little guy. We had answers and he had antibiotics within the hour. There are no words for going home without your baby. It is scary being sent home knowing that the problems reside in the heart and lungs, the two most necessary things for life. I don't think I knew to cry until I woke up the next morning to the perfect silence of our home rather than to the scream of a new baby. As the mother, the one who has spent 9+ months sacrificing to keep your baby safe, there is no way not to blame yourself. The "if only…" list runs through your head. I felt so guilty for waking at home the next morning while he was hooked up to countless machines, with tubes in his nose, down his throat and IVs poking into his arm. I always made Jim promise if something went wrong, it was baby before me and somehow, that protective system I felt I had set-up failed.

I wanted a natural birth and it was beautiful. Whether we were at a hospital or birthing center, we know that the result would have been the same with Porter, and don't regret our decision. I would even use a midwife again, if we choose to have another child. We've really learned the strength in our marriage this week. We were able to keep each other laughing in the NICU when we needed Porter to know that we were there, his pillars of hope and strength. We were able to go home and have honest discussions about what we felt about the day and just cry when it seemed so far from the plan we had made. We leaned on our faith and God met us with answers to each prayer, better than we would've known how to ask. Porter has made what seems like a miracle recovery. He was off of his oxygen by day 3 and off of his IV feeding tube at 5 days. There are 7, 10, and 21 day courses of antibiotics for aspirational pneumonia and we will be taking our happy, healthy boy home tomorrow after just 7 days. We will have just one follow up appointment with Cardiology for an abnormal EKG. We know that the adventure of parenting is just being, but we are glad that we were able to weather this storm.

baby update: 38 weeks.

How far along:  38 weeks (...and 2 days)

How big is the baby: Baby Simon is the size of a pumpkin. By both our midwives guesstimates (which I don't trust either), he is right around 8 lbs now and will make a delivery of somewhere around 9.3 lbs. He is also all limbs, so we will have a tall boy (Zag basketball, anyone?)

Total weight gain/loss: Holding steady.

Maternity clothes: I am still wearing a mix of maternity clothes and non-maternity clothes. This weekend with the labor day sales I went out and bought myself new, non-maternity clothes that I will be so excited to put on in a few weeks!

Stretch marks: I have finally hit the mark where I am getting a few stretch marks on the underside of my belly but Jim, the most caring husband, ordered me Frank (www.frankbody.com) so I can start getting rid of them now.

Sleep: 4:15 seems to be my new wake up time. I still get in a solid 6 hours but that seems to be as much as my body wants to give into. A friend sent me a Snoogle maternity pillow so my sleep is A LOT more comfortable (Jim may be jealous of it).

Exercise: I've been able to walk more (accidentally up the side of a mountain this weekend) and did some Pilates. 

Best moment last week: My friend, Hope, and I have pretty much gone through our whole pregnancy together, asking questions to each other and comparing notes. She has been one huge, fabulous support system for me. Last week she had her little baby boy, Maxwell. I seriously felt like I just had a kiddo, too! I am so over the moon happy for her and her husband.

My best personal moment last week? I don't think there are huge moments that stick out. I think that I just love when it's the end of the night and we're watching Grey's before bed and Jim has his hand on my belly and Baby Simon is kicking away (he loves to move between 8-9pm). Or I love when Jim calls midday and asks how I am AND how "our boy" is. It's beautiful how love starts before you ever meet your little one face-to-face.

Also, my midwife forced me to have a conversation with my mother about how her labors were. I would never ask my mom these kind of questions because I'm a pretty tight lipped person when it comes to anything too personal or health-related. It was interesting to know that all her kiddos labors were about 11 hours long, they never dropped before she gave birth, and I was a chunker at 9 lbs 6 oz (aka baby Simon will be big). It was good to give me some perspective on what to expect!

Movement: He's slowed down over the weekend but when he's moving in there it is much stronger than it has been. Just praying for the day he moves away from my ribs.

Food cravings/aversions: I was craving sweets for a very, VERY long time. Berries and fruit (and chocolate) by the handfuls but now it seems like I am craving salty foods, specifically chips. Thankfully we don't keep snack foods in our house and we will not be starting now so I just ignore those cravings.

Other symptoms: I get sick to my stomach often at night but since it's night, I roll over and ignore it. By the morning usually it has passed and if not then I generally just sleep a little longer until it does.

Gender: Baby boy… although we talk about what if it's a girl. This child will have no name and all boys clothes (okay, well her name would be Rudy in my head, I would just have to guilt Jim into it.) We have had 4 confirmations on it being a boy so I'm sure we're good here. I guess when you have nothing else to worry about these are the silly things that creep in.

Labor signs:  I've got a whole lot of nothing. This kiddo needs to make an appearance for Aunt Harper and my parents aka he has until the 19. I'm not anxious in the least for him to get here which is good because my midwives make it sound like he will be baking past his due date, for sure.

Belly button: Still not an outie…but not really an innie.

Weddings rings: Now that the weather has cooled, my rings are just fine.

What I miss: Running. Laying on my stomach. And for some reason this week I really want a beer. I walked by a brewery the other day and it smelled so, so good. Funny thing is I RARELY drink a beer.

What I am looking forward to: I am looking forward to the baby being here and family visiting. I keep putting off a few small things that need to get done before baby comes because I'm nervous that if I complete the whole list then maybe I will get impatient but the bags are packed and the car seat is in and those are the most important things.

Weekly Wisdom:  Build a support system of moms or moms-to-be to ask the "embarrassing" questions to. I am a very private person so it has been really important to me to have a few girlfriends who I can ask the questions I would never dream of asking ANYONE out loud. I think that this is a key not just in these pregnancy situations but in life in general.

baby update: 36 weeks.

How far along: 36 weeks

How big is the baby: P is the size of a large Cantaloupe, or around 6 pounds. 

Total weight gain/loss: I am officially up 28 pounds. I can still see my toes and miraculous can still shave my legs and paint my toe nails. Both exciting feats when I look down at the big bump that stands between me and my toes. 

Maternity clothes: Even some of my maternity clothes are having trouble covering the bump at this point. I have to say the most frustrating thing about my pregnancy is getting dressed. I don't have a lot to choose from and I definitely don't have anything that makes me feel "beautiful", mostly just like a whale. I have shed many tears over this. 

Stretch marks: Nope! And I still have an innie belly button--I was very freaked out about getting an outie from the beginning. 

Sleep: I had been sleeping 9 hours a night without interruption but the last few days I've only slept about 6. So although I don't have insomnia, I feel like I am not sleeping in as long of stretches. 

Excercise: Well...this one time last week I got off the couch. That's honestly what it feels like but I can barely make it from the bed to the bathroom my muscles are in so much pain so no, nothing more than maybe walking around the neighborhood at night. I know I'm going to be thankful for this Relaxin at some point but it's not right now. 

Best moment last week: I have an amazing support system of girlfriends who are were there to answer all my questions as the last week was a semi-tough one. Tomorrow starts a new week and so I'm going to hit the reset and just do as much as I can when I feel like I can. I go to the midwife on Tuesday and can't wait to hear the little ones heart beat, hopefully for one of the last times while he is still baking. 

Movement: We had good news at our last midwife appointment that baby P has moved into the position that he needs to be. Mostly I'm still feeling his movements through his hips that are going into my ribs, a few kicks on the opposite side and when his arms or head move at all, it feels like he is poking my bladder with his elbow. The sharp pains to the bladder are not my favorite but good to know he's there. 

Food cravings/aversions: m&ms--we keep a bag in the fridge now. also, cannellini beans and Campbell's tomato soup. 

Other symptoms: My whole lower body from my belly button to mid-thigh is in pain pretty much always. It's worst when I've been sitting or sleeping. It's very difficult to get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. The occasional heartburn, headache and nausea. Yay. 

Gender: Boy

Labor signs:  My body is definitely in beast mode preparing. I have left out lots of unlady-like details for your reading pleasure. I find even with Jim I am very vague about what "sick" and "pain" entails. I am very 1950s when it comes to sharing anything physical or medical, I have to keep a little mystery, right? 

Belly button: Innie! 

Weddings rings: Still fitting besides on days when it's 100+. 

What I miss: Laying on my stomach to read. Running. Champagne. Cigars (it is sweet that Jim "sneaks" his cigars while he does yard work so I don't have to feel like I'm missing out). 

What I am looking forward to: hearing his little heartbeat this week and him arriving soon. P arriving means my family will soon arrive as well!

Weekly Wisdom:  Mila Kunis did a skit a while back on the Jimmy Kimmel show where she went off on the phrase "we are pregnant" and how the guy is most definitely pregnant. I say this all the time to Jim. The truth is, I had 34 weeks of the most wonderful, easy, carefree pregnancy all for it to come to a screeching halt this week. It has been a difficult week where anything that can make me uncomfortable medically has happened. On top of it, I am just an emotional wreck every time I have to look in the mirror and get dressed knowing that I look blah and that I'm almost back up to my pre-workout weight. 

My point being, yes, Jim is not going through all these physical and mental changes but he is the one who makes dinner and does the dishes when I can imagine making it through the day, he picks up my mid-day phone calls and talks me down when I'm crying on the couch over basically nothing, he's the one who tucks me into bed for a nap or encourages me to just stop what I'm doing and take a bubble bath, he's the one who has to feel helpless when I can't seem to find any relief from pain. 

Sure, "we" aren't technically pregnant, but we're absolutely in this together. I think sometimes I forget to say that outloud and to thank him and I think all baby's fathers deserve at least that much, because I assume it can't be easy. So thank you, Simon. 

be curious, not judgmental.

"Be curious, not judgmental." -Walt Whitman

I remember a conversation between my sister and several of my close friends. The conversation was over a round of G&T's at a bar that hasn't existed in several years. My friends were curious about Sex between Lesbians and exactly how it "worked". None of us had experienced an open dialogue on the topic in our small hometowns (and this was still years before Cosmo would do an awful job of explaining it). 

I turned away from this conversation quickly to find some of our guy friends at the pool table. It wasn't because I wasn't interested, or because one of my siblings was about to talk about their sex life (my family is more than open with our personal lives), but rather because I had chosen to judge the topic before it even began. 

You see, I was raised in a church where judgment came before love. A church where prayer chains were nothing more than gossip circles. A church where we were taught "hate the sin and not the sinner" but were not taught how such a concept could actually be walked out in real life. I spent years turning away from conversations because I knew the only additions I would have were eye rolls or sighs of disgust. Faith to me was a relationship. A relationship that had an awful lot of "do nots" but a God who was their to catch you when you accidentally committed one of these "do nots". 

There is a point, usually in our late teens are early twenties where we lose the faith of a child and start to search all over again. I didn't want my faith to just be something I had because I was taught to. Several years later, I had a renewed faith. It had the same basis as the one in the church where I was raised but with the simple realization that I believe in a God whose name is Love. This single realization opened my eyes to the fact that if I judge than I cannot love.  One of my favorite quotes is by Francis Chan. He says "do you know that nothing you do in this life will ever matter, unless it is about loving God and loving the people he made?" This had become the model of my relationship with Christ and with the world as His light. That does not mean that overnight my Conservative social views evaporated.

The night gay marriage was passed in New York State I was out with a group of my sister's friends while she was out of town. I'm not sure why I found myself out with this particular group. I can't say that I was close to any of them. There was an excited energy that flowed through the group and instantly a feeling of celebration and camaraderie in the whole building. Even in 2011, long after I had changed my views of God in my life, I still couldn't process gay marriage as a victory. I didn't understand how that could possibly contribute to restoring positive values in our country. What I did understand at that moment is the massive significance that it held for my sister and many of her LGBT friends. But what exactly was that significance? 

What a law leaves out is the emotion of a situation. What a law can't change is people's perspective. What a law can't wash out is a stigma. What a law can't take away is my mother's grimace when she sees my sister kiss a girl. What a law can't stop is hate preaching in churches. What a law can't do is make it any easier for a person to "come out" to their loved ones. What a law can't do is teach parents to not pass on prejudice to their children. It's a start. It's a vague shadow of equality. At the end of the day, this law means nothing, if people aren't willing to put aside their judgements in order to stand besides someone they love who decides they will marry their partner? Can you realize that it is possible to keep your morals, your faith, in tact while continuing to support someone in love? 

When we make judgments without making an attempt to understand the person on the other side of any discussion, we lose the ability to love. We lose the ability to have compassion. Without love and compassion, at least in my life, it is impossible to find true joy. Opinions, Ideas, Differences--they are what make the world so beautifully and wonderfully interesting. I will never take my eyes from the morals and beliefs that I have, and I wouldn't expect someone on the other side of a debate to magically change theirs, but maybe I can help them love a little more and judge a little less. 

In each of us there should be a blaze of love and curiosity. 

In each of us there should be a spark of understanding.

If not, I'm afraid we may just be burning in a fire of ignorance and intolerance.

baby update: 31 weeks.

Pre-Pregnancy 

   (Well, technically a few weeks post pregnant)

                                                            31 weeks

How far along: 31 weeks

How big is the baby: P is the size of a pineapple. We had 3D sonograms done 2 weeks ago and he was almost 3 pounds.

Total weight gain/loss: I am officially up 25 pounds. A friend told me that my weight is distributed amazingly…or as me and Jim say my thighs and butt are stealing some weight from my baby bump.

I have finally let go of really caring about this weight gain number because I've lost it all once, I can do it again. I've perfected what makes my body it's absolute best--will I love cutting out carbs again? No, but I know I can and that I loved it when I did it for almost a year prior.

Maternity clothes: I’m still avoiding this besides in pants and even then I have some pairs that aren't. I'll give in to the maternity clothes some day but right now just wearing a size up when I can (Lululemon and Pierce Apparel have been the most comfortable Godsend.)

Stretch marks: Nope! Thank God for slow and steady weight gain.

Sleep: I have had a few days this week where my sleep was try disrupted but I don't feel like I normal would when I can't sleep. Instead I am wide awake at 3 am reading and full of energy, then after about twenty minutes I drift back off. 

Exercise: Last week I couldn't get enough of the gym. This week it's been a little more difficult waking up early to get there before Jim leaves for work but I've done yoga or pilates every day. 

Best moment last week: Being done with work and taking it slow. I'm so thankful I had two weeks to pack up the house because rather than being overwhelmed I just did an hour or two a day.

Movement: P is facing towards my spine and breech at the moment so I feel lots of movement where his head and arms are but no kicks that I feel. Jim feels a lot of movement that feel like kicks in the early morning--I call it Daddy and P time because I'm still sleeping away.

Food cravings/aversions: I have no real cravings or aversions. I wanted gummy bears the other night…much less satisfying in my stomach than in my head.

Other symptoms: I think we've finally hit the emotional part. I'm not a very emotional person so the fact that I've cried this week is odd especially since it was over the fact that I couldn't find the perfect muslin swaddle. 

Gender: Boy

Labor signs:  None. It was a good time at the Doctors yesterday being quizzed on what to do encase they pop-up. Everyone can just pray with me that the next 12 days are uneventful baby days and beautiful adventure days.

Belly button: Still avoiding the outie. Thank. God.

Weddings rings: Now that it's not as hot and humid on they slide on just fine. I only wear one of my three rings when I workout because I'm scared they'll swell on.

What I miss: Brie, Cigars, RUNNING, and getting a massage where they can actually apply pressure to my lower back.

What I am looking forward to: I cannot wait to get to Spokane and set up the nursery. We have already found the furniture we like but are waiting to order it until we get there. I know in reality I have plenty of time but feel rushed.

Weekly Wisdom:  I think I've finally realized you really have to give your body what it wants. Some days I crave working out and then other days I feel like sleeping in until 9:30. I've been stubborn about slowing down but I think I've finally given in to the fact that some days I can bike 10 miles and other days the coffee shop is the furthest walk I'm taking.

how to change negative self-talk.

Our worst enemies don't talk about us the way we talk to ourselves. You know, that inner dialogue which constantly seems to be going on in our head. It feeds on putting us down and strengthening our insecurities and doubts. They say that when you're in a toxic relationship it is a helpful exercise to write down the mean things you say to each other. Until you really see it on paper you don't realize just how mean-spirited some of the things you say to one another are. But what about doing this for the things that we say to ourselves?

I think we would find that the thing we would never say to our best friend if she asked us how she looked in this dress, or if she asked about a situation at work, is exactly the thing that we are saying to ourselves. I had a friend recently who was seeing a boy for several months and when he decided to cut it off he said simply that the reason was because "he didn't like her". This sounded so awful to me. Where was the sugar-coating that we put on these types of emotional situations. Who was he to not even take her feelings and self-esteem into account? Yet, how many times have you found yourself in the midst of a crowd, looking and comparing yourself to someone else and said the exact same harsh thing about "not liking" something about yourself? If we realized the power that this little voice in our heads had over us, we would realize how important it is to stop negative self-talk. Our brains are wired to see and think about negatives before positives (come on, people, you've seen your Facebook feeds). Our job is to rewire our brain to talk to and think about ourselves in a more positive way.

What makes it even more difficult to leave these voices behind is the information that is directed at women these days seems determined to make us feel that our lives are somehow lacking. We are constantly made to feel that we should be prettier, thinner, sexier, more successful, make more money, be better moms, better wives, better lovers... Though often wrapped in a "You go, girl!" message, the subtext is clear: We should feel bad because we have fallen short in so many ways from some imagined ideal - we have tummies, not abs; we are not trying hard enough because we are not occupying a corner office. I read a stack of women's health magazines each month and what I've found is there is a fine line between stories having an inspiring tone and having a judgmental tone. Sometimes I walk away thinking that I learned some new tips and other times I feel like I'm a bad person if I don't follow those tips because they are so simple. The phrase that gets me in any article, usually about a celebrity, is "having it all". Are you lacking because you don't have the exact same 4-unit family, fanatical stability, rock hard abs, and Gucci-filled closet as the person next door? Have we not passed by the age of keeping up with the Joneses?

It took me twenty-five years to learn to redirect my negative self-talk. It was not a magical transformation and I am certainly nowhere near perfect with it. I don't think it had anything to do with maturity or reading posts like this that made me more aware of the issue at hand. It was a process of forgetting about people's expectations of what I should do and start doing things that I truly loved and boasted my self-confidence. I direct a lot of my positive self-talk from my head to social media and that isn't to boost my ego but because I truly am proud of myself and my accomplishments. I spew them out in hope that someone else will realize that they can feel confident if they are doing something they love, not just fitness wise, but in their careers, their spare time, and with their families. When you find a passion that day in and day out satisfies you, that is when the switch in your head will be flipped from the negative to positive.

The most important thing we can do is decide how we define success. It will be different for each of us, according to our own values and goals (and not those imposed upon us by society). My two "big" goals that I have before I turn 30 are to start a modest vegetable farm with a little roadside stand and to run my first ultramarathon. I'm sure to most people those are beautiful ambitions but will never get me wealth, fortunes or fame. I decided long ago that those three things don't interest me and neither does the fleeting idea of happiness, but rather, I'm looking for fulfillment so that I can be the best version of me and by extension be in a position to help others. When you can identify your main values and motives, you can start to teach your inner voice to talk positively about where you are on your own ladder of success.

So I suggest, you start today by sending yourself a positive inner massage, or mantra. It is the truest sentence you will tell yourself and one that you can tell yourself every day when a negative thought pops into your head. I have several but a big one has always been, "I don't want to live a life, I want to live an adventure." As I watch friends go to school to be doctors and lawyers or others excel in their positions at work, it's my reminder that I'm a nanny because I want to go home and not think about work or constantly be checking my phone for work e-mails. It's my reminder as friends invest in homes, that I am not in that boat because I don't want to be tied down to one place right now. So for whatever situation it is that you hear that little voice filling your head with negativity, find your own message to slowly change that voice. And whatever you do don't let your constant critic get in the way of pursuing your version of success.