Motivation

Running 

A lot of the time, that word invokes unpleasant feelings for people. Memories of high school gym class and the dreaded mile run, feelings of breathlessness and exhaustion, and feeling completely blobbish instead of healthy-and running is supposed to help you feel healthy! I am definitely included in this group that groans when thinking of running. So why bother even going?
Personally, I've wanted to like running for years, but I've never really worked to actually achieve that goal. I've always envied those who go for runs to clear their minds and actually enjoy it. The summer before I got married, a friend and I did Jillian Michaels DVDs pretty religiously. And while those whipped our butts, running is so much more intense. For real, I would almost rather do burpees. Actually, no, probably not. Those are awful. Effective, but awful. Like running!!

I guess a fairly obvious reason to get out and run, and one that many people use, is to lose weight. And while that would be nice, that isn't my main motivator to get moving. I admit I'm not too pleased with my post baby body, but most everyone tells me I've lost the baby weight, so I guess I'm the only one who really sees the differences. Either way, I'm not letting it consume my mind as the ultimate goal of running. I feel like if I do, I'll be setting myself up to be disappointed. Sure, it would be amazing to look like those long and lean women, but I just don't think that will ever happen for me. And I'm not making excuses here. I'm simply saying I don't think I have the genes to get that body type. And guess what? I'm okay with that. By now you're probably really wondering if I'm actually going to answer my question of why run. Here are my reasons: (And full disclosure, this post is mostly for me to refer to when I lack motivation)  

• For my future babies. This is my main motivator. I want to be healthier for better pregnancies, and to be an example to my little ones.
• That glorious warm shower or bath afterwards
• To eventually learn to like it. I'm determined, dang it!
• To look better in my workout clothes
• To not feel guilty about that extra brownie
• To keep up with Husband
• To not feel self conscious buying workout clothes
• To have a natural anti-depressant
• To be proud of myself

While I'd like to have a longer list, this is where I'm starting out. And while this list is mainly for me, if it helps anyone else who may be reading and struggling with motivation, great!!  

Through hell and back

Well, I'm back. I'm not going to give all the details of where I've been on here for the entire world to read at leisure and judge. I will say that I miscarried and lost our first sweet daughter at 22 weeks gestation in early February. I still get a very real pain in my chest as I read and reread that sentence. If you want more details than that, ask me personally. I'm happy to share privately. If anything I've learned from this horrid experience can help someone else, I am more than happy to do so. But now I find myself in the all too familiar predicament of what I am to do with my life. Everyone has been telling me to take this time to take care of myself, and do whatever I want. Well, that's just it. I don't know what I want to do. At this moment I do know I would like to send out some thank yous:

Thank you to all our family and friends who have been incredibly supportive through this ordeal. It really means the world to us.

Thank you Dr. C for absolutely everything. I didn't think I'd get to have you back, but I did. And I am tremendously grateful for that.

Thank you to all my amazing nurses. You all are incredible women.

Thank you Billy Idol for your recent single, Can't Break Me Down. It's been my power song lately to remind myself that I can do this. (Judge away....)

Thank you Disneyland for being our reset button vacation spot.

I'm sure that I've forgotten someone or something, my apologies. Throughout the past few months, I've been told time and time again that I am a strong woman. I'm doing my best to remind myself of that and focus on my inner strength. And I guess ultimately, that's what I want to do with my life. For others, not necessarily myself. I'm not sure how to go about doing that though. There are lots of different options out there. For now, I guess I'll use this blog.  

What I've learned from having a high risk pregnancy

Yes, it's true. This pregnancy is now considered high risk. Something I never expected to have to face, but I'm doing my best to navigate this completely new territory. In the process, I've learned a few things:

• When your doctor first says the phrase "high risk", a siren will sound in your head.
• You're going to go to the doctor A LOT. I will have seen a doctor every week this month by the end of Friday. 
• Those routine pregnancy tests you once worried about (ie the dreaded glucose test) will fall to the back burner of your mind.
• People will tell you to focus on taking care of yourself and the baby. This will feel weird. Really weird and slightly selfish at times.
• You'll quit your job in order to try to do this and you'll feel really conflicted about it.
• Some people will treat you like you're very fragile. Some people will act as if nothing about this pregnancy is different from a normal one. Whether or not either of these is intentional, I can't be sure.
• Having an MRI isn't as bad as you may have thought, but it's not something you'll want to do again. 
•  People will come out of the woodwork and continually amaze you with their support.
• There will be days when you're excited and feel everything will turn out beautifully. There will also be days when you're scared out of your mind.
• It will be a big challenge to decide who to tell what, if anything, about this journey. You'll want to talk, and yet at the same time, you'll want to be alone and distract yourself.
• You'll do everything in your power to make sure this little baby makes it into the world safely. 

A letter to my (former) OB

Dr. C,
Maybe it's weird for me to be doing this, maybe it happens more than I realize. But it doesn't matter. I want to say thank you.
Perhaps you don't remember me simply by hearing my name. I was the first time mom who got the news that her little daughter has something called a sacrococcygeal teratoma last week. I was the redhead who was vivacious and happy when you entered the room, and soon became very quiet and somber as you sat next to her and told her the news. I was the one who sat stunned faced while her husband asked loads of questions. You could probably tell I was in a state of shock. You could probably see the tears burning behind my eyes, wishing to fall. But I wouldn't let them, you didn't need that in your day. I know you've probably given many new moms diagnoses much worse than mine. I know it wasn't easy for you to burst our bubble, and I didn't want to make you feel worse by having to see my tears. Thank you for the way you did approach the situation, and your concern for me, my husband, and our baby. That concern was obvious from my first appointment.
 You smiled at me in the hall that first day, probably unaware that I was going to be your patient. When my husband told you I have a phobia of needles and your response was "Bless your heart!" instead of the snarky "Well, you'd better get used to them!" that I expected, I was surprised. When you came back to give me the standard pregnancy do's and don'ts during my blood draw in an attempt to distract me, I was surprised yet again. But it became clear to me very quickly that you saw me as a whole person, not just a patient. I had gotten used to the way you like to do things, and I felt so comfortable in your care.
Now here I am with an appointment to see a specialist you referred me to tomorrow afternoon. I'm sure this person will be competent and tell us the things you couldn't. I've been reassured plenty of times that they will be understanding and helpful and the best option for bringing our little girl into the world safely. And all that is probably true. But it won't be the same. I had complete faith and trust in you being the one to help our daughter come into this world. I was willing to have you see things that most people I care about shouldn't see. And now it won't be you. I can only hope I'll like this new specialist and they'll make me feel as comfortable as you did. Thank you for everything. I don't want to replace you, but I guess I have to. This letter isn't conveying my feelings adequately, but I'll just end it here. I'm truly grateful for the influence you've had on my first pregnancy. Thank you for making things easier and calming my nerves. I hope I can find another OB when the time comes who treats me as well as you have.        

Mommy shaming

After doing some reading today, something's stuck in my craw. Now I realize I'm not technically a mommy yet as my child is still in utero, but in a few months that will fly by faster than I'm ready for, this little peach will be in my arms. Here's what's been getting me. This phenomenon known as mommy shaming. I doubt I really need to describe exactly what it is. I figured I'd face plenty of unwanted advice when I found out I was pregnant, that's just part of becoming a parent, right? But now you're telling me I'm going to have other moms at the park look down on me for feeding my kid Goldfish crackers instead of some organic cheese snack from Trader Joe's? To try to implement a sleep schedule or not? Let baby cry it out or come running every time? And let's not even touch the breastfeeding argument. It's a total damned if you do, damned if you don't one in my book. People will be upset if I breastfeed in public, and yet other people will be offended if I choose to give my baby formula instead.

Good grief.

STOP.

Can we just...not? Can't we all just support each other in the incredibly difficult journey that is parenthood? I mean, I've already experienced some of this and I'm only four months pregnant!! Honestly, what good does it accomplish putting other people down just because they are doing this parenting thing differently than you? Different does not mean wrong. I feel like I need to repeat that. DIFFERENT DOES NOT MEAN WRONG. I feel like I'm going to need all the help I can get with Peach. The last thing I need when I ask for help is people telling me I'm doing things wrong. Luckily, Husband has been credibly supportive throughout all of this with my opinions about how to do handle certain things. And here I sit, typing this, antsy to actually voice my uncensored opinion about what will be best for us and Peach, as I don't want the backlash which I'm sure will come. Parents don't need to be told they're wrong or horrible people. Know why? Because they're doing the best they can with the situation that they are in. What parents need is support. Especially new and first time parents. We need support. We need people to tell us we're doing a good job, even when we're convinced we're not. And when we do ask for help, please listen to what we are saying and actually asking for.      

Wow

 I'm a bit in awe today. Lately I probably haven't been the most fun person to be around. No specific reason, really, I suppose I could blame it on pregnancy hormones, but I don't think that would be entirely fair. I had another doctor's appointment today and yesterday morning I had a bit of a meltdown because of how utterly terrified I am about everything pregnancy related. Having a tiny human completely dependent on me, all those lovely prenatal tests I'll have to go through, possibly finding out something is wrong at said doctor visit, the doctor not being able to find a heartbeat, labor, everything. (Major props to Husband for being so fantastic with me through all this.)
So this morning came despite my nerves, and I did my best to convince myself that everything was going to be fine. Really, there was no logical reason that it wouldn't be. Right? Right. One good thing about this office is I've never had to wait very long to be seen. Maybe 15 minutes at the most I'd guess. Of course with me being as nervous as I was, that wait seemed much longer than usual. But then the strangest thing happened. When the doctor did come in, I had to fight a huge grin. At first I figured it was because in my mind, he kind of looks like Martin Short. But now after having the majority of the day to reflect on the appointment, I'm thinking there was more to it than that. There was also this odd sense of relief, even though all he'd done so far was ask if I'd been having any problems.
Then it was time to try to hear peach's heartbeat for the first time on a doppler. Cue nerves again. Those first few moments while the doctor searched were spent with my eyes closed telling myself everything was okay. I guess peach was pretty wiggly. :) I wouldn't know, I'm not totally sure if the few little things I've felt here and there are peach yet.

And then there it was.  

It was amazing. I wish I had words for that feeling once there was no doubt in my mind what we were hearing was our little one; alive and strong. After that, I know I can handle this. Things are becoming more and more real. Answering one of my questions, the doctor mentioned when I'm in labor, and that was another moment of "holy crap this is really happening." For the rest of today, I've had this overwhelming sense of peace and confidence about the whole thing. Crazy how the thing that made me so nervous was exactly what I needed. And I am so so grateful that things have worked out with this doctor. Since we found out I was pregnant right after we moved, we didn't know how to find out about good doctors in the area. And we couldn't even keep my old one as she doesn't take the insurance offered by Husband's employer. So I printed off a list of providers in our area who take our insurance, did enough online research to make my head spin, and eventually just went with my gut, praying for the best. Thinking about it on my way home from work, we are putting an insane amount of trust in him. I mean, this is our first child, so we have no idea what we're doing. His hands are the first earthly ones that will touch peach, and do whatever may be needed if peach has some troubles getting here. And I've got to say, I am absolutely okay with that.
I can do this. I can have a good--no--a great pregnancy. I can have a baby and become a mommy.

Impressive

First of all, I can't believe it's already been another month. I have another doctor's appointment next week. My doctor's nice and I like him, and I like finding out everything really is okay with little peach, (that's what we're calling it for right now, I'll explain that in a minute) I still don't like doctor's appointments. Bleck. We're calling it peach because I sent Husband a screen shot of my What to Expect app earlier this week and it said our baby is the size of a peach. So Husband said he was going to start calling it baby peach. We still don't know if it's a boy or a girl, but the anticipation is making me nuts!! Gaaah!! We'll either find out sometime around Christmas or not until January-not sure I can wait that long.
Anyway! I do actually have something fairly intellectual to say this evening. I don't really want to get into specifics of what brought this to my mind, but I've been thinking about why we try so hard to impress others. Often it's people we've never even met. Now, I understand wanting to put your best foot forward, but to what extent? If we try too hard to put a great foot forward, do we eventually reach a point where we're not being ourselves?

I can't say I know the answer to that question, as it will likely vary from person to person. It's just something that's been on my mind lately. I wish I had some analytical thoughts as to the answer to this question, but honestly the original question I was going to write about isn't the one that came out as I sit here typing. I was originally going to write about why we feel the urge to do that, but even that was only a half baked idea. I guess at the end of the day, it's another example of how I really believe it is best to always just be yourself. Be real, and those who really deserve to be in your life will find a way to stay. And those who don't? Well, you'll find you're better off without them.