Contentment

Contentment.  To be satisfied and happy.  

Am I content?   I'm content with certain aspects of my life.  As a mother, I'm content.  As a wife, I'm content.  As a daughter in law, I'm content.  As a friend, I'm content.  But there are areas in my life I am not.  In fact, I'm so far from contentment in those areas its embarrassing.  I am thankful and GRATEFUL, but I am certainly not content.

As a perfectionist, oldest child, and relentless need for affirmation in my life, there are huge areas which elude all sense of satisfaction and happiness for long periods of time.  To name a few: appearance, career, and home. 

Most women (and men) are never satisfied with their appearance.  Oftentimes due to health or time constraints it is out of our control.   Career, is dictated by work experience and degrees of education.  Home, seriously.  What woman do you know keeps a perfect house? WITHOUT A MAID OR INTERIOR DESIGN BUSINESS. (Sorry Joanna Gaines and Martha Stewart...ya'll don't count as human here) News flash: they don't.

I struggle so much.  And my discontentment bleeds into those other areas of my life that are amazing and give me purpose and joy.  I don't want my bad attitude to poison the lovely things in my life.  When I'm home with the 2 most amazing people in my life,  I want to enjoy and encourage them.  Not complain and mope. 

Like I mentioned before, I am thankful- grateful for my overall health, job, and home.  Heck, we have a home! We have a roof that doesn't leak.  The AC and heat work wonderfully. There are no plumbing issues, mold, or infestations.  (I'm really jinxing myself here aren't I?)  I have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to complain about.  Yet all I can think of is ..."Man, I really need to empty and organize the spare room.  The shower needs scrubbing- BAD! The bedroom needs to be painted, the living room paint needs to be patched up- and the carpet is fraying where it meets the kitchen linoleum."  The list goes on.  I feel like a failure because I make significantly less than my husband even though we graduated from the same university with the same exact degree.  Maybe if I made more I could contribute to the house and actually make it more of a home.   As it is, I work 40 hours a week and some days making dinner is my one huge accomplishment.

Being a working mom means that your house, unless you have help, will not look like your Pinterest page.  Having a clean house, usually means that your kid wasn't there for the whole day.  

I love a clean house.  I actually enjoy cleaning.  Especially my kitchen.  Its a high effort, high reward kinda deal.  One of my favorite things to do is organize!  It kills me that my closet looks like Hurricane Ali ran through and then gusted through another 6 times.

There are so many excuses I could make.  I will eventually scrub my shower.  (read: this weekend) My closet will get organized. Or at least the clothes will be washed and folded into neat stacks.  The bathroom mirror will finally get that much needed wipe down.

I know I'm doing this out of order, but I really can't go too much into my discontentment at work for obvious reasons.  Some days are better than others.  I'm grateful for my job.  Quitting is not an option.  Losing it would terrify me.  And maybe that's the root of my discontentment: fear.

When we are discontent, we are living in fear.  Fear of other people's opinions.  Fear of our own personal expectations. (If you've read my other blog posts you realize how much expectations truly are your enemy!) Fear of the unknown.  Just writing this has helped me identify my fears and refocus. 

It's like seeing a huge shadow out the corner of your eye.  Terrifyingly huge and ominous, you ignore it but can't stop thinking about.  The anxiety builds up, feeding off our skewed perception.  The fear is suffocating, taking up so much room in our minds that it leaves no room for joy. I don't want to live like that anymore.

Writing helps me to turn around and look at what is making that huge, ominous shadow.   To identify it as the small thing it truly is and not the distorted image cast on the edges of my mind.  The house will be alright.  My job provides for my family.  I am not as ugly or out of shape as I think. I will no longer let fear rob me of my happiness and satisfaction in life!

What are you discontent with?  Is it something you can change?  Is it a change you fear? Identify it.  Allow yourself to cry.  Take the adrenaline from your frustration and go run, lift weights, or create something!  

I'm not a licensed anything. MY solutions may not be the ones you need.  This is simply me sharing my story, hoping that my brokenness leads to someone else's wholeness.

Mother's Day

First off: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!  To all mothers everywhere!

Here I continue the story of how I became a mother.

Everyone has expectations for labor.   Everyone has a different experience.   Lucky for you guys this tale is pretty G-rated.

There are several stages of labor and differing ways to "induce" labor.  I had already experienced Early Labor and some Active Labor by  the beginning of my third trimester.  Since I was already dilated to a 6 a month before my due date, my doctors warned me to come in once I experienced contractions less than 5 minutes apart.  They expected this baby to come FAST.

I made it up to the week of my due date, working up to the last week of my pregnancy.   At my final check up we made the decision to a membrane sweep 2 days before the "official" date to get things moving along and check on baby.  This was how that week went leading up to labor.

Monday: First day off work. Baby due Thursday.  I cleaned house, scrubbed floors, organized, and tried to stay busy.  I hated waiting and had binged my favorite Netflix already when I had been sick a few months back.  There was a lot of yoga ball time.  I also drank as much Raspberry Leaf tea as I could.

Tuesday: Second day off work.  Went to the OB's office.  Everything was good!  So dilated, I didn't feel the membrane sweep.  Doctor confirmed that she could feel the baby's head and we listened the the heartbeat.  Back at the house I found more stuff to clean, hung out on my yoga ball, and drank more tea!

Wednesday: Third day off work.  Got a bit stir crazy. Walked a lot.  Made sure the fridge and freezer were stocked and ready.  My house would be clean for the next month!  Sam and I made sure we enjoyed what time we had together as just the 2 of us.  We visited some family, listened to stories of Costa Rica, ate some VERY good dark chocolate, and went home.  Yes, Dark Chocolate is one of those things that are supposed to help induce labor.  The rest of the evening was nice and quiet.   I took a nice, long relaxing shower and took time with my hair afterwards.

Still Wednesday:  Have you ever heard of the Bloody Show?  or the Mucus Plug?  Well you should.  Because both things show up wayyyy before the infamous Water Break.  They compose the layers that separate the sack your baby is in from the opening the baby will come out.  They are removed when the baby is pushing downward because the uterus is constricting.  Their names are descriptive enough for you to figure out what to look for as a pregnant woman.  Mucus and light blood.  Most women don't even notice it since the blood is usually so light. Especially if they have already experience spotting throughout the pregnancy.

Welp, mine SHOWED that evening.   I took it easy and waited for noticeable/painful contractions.  Having already experienced them earlier in my pregnancy, it was pretty easy to identify the stronger ones when they came.  And did they!   Within an hour they were 5 min apart and as we drove to the hospital they got to less than 4 min apart.

We were admitted and shown to a room to monitor my contractions before being taken to Labor and Delivery.  It was probably around 11pm.  By then the contractions were steadily 3-4 min apart.  They hooked me up to a monitor and supplied me with a yoga ball in the Labor/Delivery room. They offered me an epidural when I was admitted, but I declined since the pain was still manageable and my water hadn't broke yet.

I was tired.  I kept moving about during the contractions, utilizing the ball and walking around.  At times I laid on my side.  For some reason, the contractions slowed down again.  This was frustrating since I had been hoping for a relatively fast labor.  BUT it was a blessing in disguise since it gave me the opportunity to rest, and catch my breath before the big show.

Thursday: By 7 am my water still had not broke on its own.  We decided my OB would go ahead and do the honors.  Again, no pain, just warm liquid running down my leg. (yup, ladies its just like wetting your pants) Once that was out of the way, the REALLY BIG ONES came.  Fast and furious.  The kind that have you arching your back and clinging to the bed rail. any movement at all that could distract. 

Unfortunately for me, the pain on my right side was unbearable.  I had been experiencing severe groin/pelvic pain near my right hip for the last month, chalking it up to the baby's position pinching a nerve.  During labor, there was pressure and pain on my left side, but it was not the blinding sharpness that I had on my right.  My body went into shock from the pain and I began to throw up, my body in tremors.  At this point I realized that I would probably blackout.  I had no control over my body and its reactions at this point.  It wasn't responding, just going into shock.

Since they already had to hook me up to an IV for penicillin because I was Strep B positive, I decided to go ahead and try an epidural.  What the heck?  I was already stuck with one needle and was having trouble not throwing up my guts.  The nurse (I loved her, still remember her name too!) had me sit on the edge of the bed and held me while the doctor administered the epidural.  I didn't see it, didn't even feel it.  They talked me through it and explained what I should be feeling and how it would work once in place and secured.  They even explained that they could go higher up my spine if  needed since for some people the epidural was less effective lower down.  They go lower initially so that the woman is able to be more aware of whats going on and push effectively without harming herself.  In my case, because apparently I have some scoliosis (which I wouldn't have found out without getting the epidural), I had to have them return to adjust the epidural.

I realize for some women at some hospitals this is traumatic.  My experience was far from traumatic.  The doctor and nurse were amazing.  The adjustment went exactly like the first, painless. No discomfort.  Seriously, I had the best team on the floor that morning. The only thing that hurt was the tape they had used to anchor the first needle and had to rip off in order to make the adjustment.  Once the epidural was in place, I had control of how much was administered.  The tremors went away, I was able to eat some Italian ice (lemonade flavored - YUM!!) and the parade began.

So, no one tells you this, but when you are the oldest children on both sides and your families both live in town EVERYONE SHOWS UP.  There was a constant parade of people coming in and out to check on me and how I was progressing.  The epidural didn't slow down my contractions too much since I was already well into Transition phase when I received it.  By then I was probably 12-14 hours into labor.  The doctor visited and checked the dilation every once in a while.

I was able to relax, my husband and his 2 youngest brothers came in and goofed off on the peanut ball (big yoga ball shaped like Mr. Peanut).  They put on a sock show, cracked jokes and kept me laughing.  I distinctly remember just wanting to watch old cartoons.  I had the Flintstones theme song running through my head and intermittently muttering "Yabadabadoo!"  It was a good time.

Eventually, sometime that afternoon it was show time.  For those wondering, yes, I hadn't eaten solid food since the day before.  I had been in labor over 12 hrs and been moving around or dozing for over half of that before I ever was attached to an IV, epidural, and catheter (which didn't register to me till later- that how good my nurse was).

To revisit the subject of family again- don't be afraid to kick people out.  The only people who need to be with you are the doctor and nurse and the father of your child.   Anyone else has no business there unless you specifically invited them to be present.  Part of the nurse's job is to make sure her workspace is cleared for her and the doctor to successfully and safely deliver your baby.   Let her kick anyone out that is not contributing to the delivery.  Mine did and I loved her for it.

There was only one person I hadn't planned on being there.  My sister. She 10 years younger than me, but happened to be on visiting rotation when the doctor said it was time.   I didn't think twice about letting her stay.  The nurse and doctor directed her and my husband as they coached me to push.  My sister was on my left and my husband was on my right.  Since my legs were numb from the epidural,  they held my legs and spoke encouragement as I curled up my torso and used the abdominal muscles I'd toned most my life.  I can't remember exactly how many it took, but it was around 3-5 pushes and Lucy was out.  Definitely 3 to get her head all the way out and a couple more for good measure.


She was ready and rarin' to go when she came.  The doctor had a bit of a shock when Lucy turned her head as sh4 left the birth canal.   Apparently new-borns don't typically have that type of muscle control.  (you know, the whole "they can't support their head" thing) She was wiped down, checked, and cord cut - not all in that order!  Almost immediately,  I was holding my baby girl in my arms, soothing her shocked newborn tears as she adjusted to her new environment.  I will never forget those moments.

As I wrap up this post on Mother's Day morning, I'm sitting on the floor in my pjs.  My daughter is clinging to my arm and crawling all over me.  And I couldn't be happier.

Birth Planning

In response to a request, I'm going to post my birth story.   Birth stories are very raw, emotional things.  I've been reading other mom's stories and have listened to most of my friends' experiences.

This is not a harrowing tale of an emergency c-section.  Nor is it an article praising the bravery of natural birth.  This is MY story.  No one else's.  

I had already experienced contractions prior to my due date.  So, during my last trimester I was dilated to 4 and spent the last month at 6.  By this point, we came to some decisions regarding the birth. You can't plan for everything, but its good to find out what you can plan for to make your first birth experience less intimidating.

As far as birth options and plans went I had done my research, met with mid-wives, looked at what my insurance covered and what I could afford.  I took into account the close relationship I had with my current OB.  She is AMAZING.  The type of doctor who is respectful of your choices and wants to hear your questions and concerns so she can help YOU.  No matter whether you choose a home birth or hospital- make sure you have a good relationship with you and your baby's caregiver.   They should be supportive, informative, and inquisitive.  You need to be comfortable asking them about everything and confident that they are doing more than just checking you off their list.

My Ob's office was always available to answer any questions or concerns I had throughout my pregnancy.  There were no stupid questions. I got to meet every doctor at the practice who may be on-call during my labor and delivery.  They all had real conversations with me leading up to the birth.

These conversations shaped my birth and delivery.

I highly recommend splurging for a 3D ultrasound. 
If you have a pregnant friend, consider giving one as a gift. 

From the start of my pregnancy, I knew I wanted as little intervention as possible.  I also knew that tearing was probably going to happen no matter what route I took. After  (probably too much) research and reading, I figured out that I needed to do what was best for me in the moment.  My doctors explained the difference pain-control methods, including natural. My goal was to try to do natural, but my doctors and family members assured me that using an epidural would do no harm, or make me any less a mother. 

Complications scared me.  I had read all the potential side effects and horror stories, but as mentioned before flexibility is your friend.  Seriously! Sometimes (read: most times) you need to listen to your body and go with the flow.  My biggest recommendation?  Do your research, by all means- scour the internet. BUT!

The most important research you could ever do is talking to family members.

Interrogate your mom. (if she is living and you guys are talking)  Talk with your aunts! Both sides if you have them. Last but not least,  if you have living grandparents, take the time to hear their birth accounts.  Ask the embarrassing and scary questions. When you're on the Labor and Delivery bed, in the birth tub, or where-ever, you are gonna wish you had. 

In the end, I told my team I wanted to try to go with natural, but would not rule out an epidural.  The other pain relievers I ruled out since they would enter my blood stream and make me drowsy.  I wanted to be as awake and alert as possible.

The rest of the "planning" was pretty simple.  I didn't have money for a birth photographer, or a doula, and my husband was better at playlists than I was.  The people allowed in the room during the birth was also easy- the moms were allowed, but other than that all I wanted was my husband next to me.  I opted for delayed cord clamping.  I wanted my baby to have all the nutrients they could!  Most importantly, the hospital we were going to practiced the Golden Hour.   An hour of skin to skin bonding for new parents and baby.  Hence, why I wasn't going to let any pain killers that would conk me out or make me fuzzy headed.

Raspberry Leaf Tea 

This is the first part of my birth story. I planned for a natural birth.  Did the pelvic floor exercises.  Drank the Raspberry Leaf tea.  Was already dilated to 6, and the week of my due date stayed home from work.   I cleaned, walked, re-packed my hospital bag and propped up my enormously swollen feet.  In addition to cleaning, I meal prepped- froze enough meals to last a month!  Everything was ready. At least I thought we were!