The Time I Cried To Get Into A Pool

Since I’m at the peak of my reproductive years, I always have about nine friends who are pregnant at any given time. No matter where I am, one of them is there. With her swollen belly, she insists she is the biggest pregnant woman to walk the earth. I smile. I promise her I was bigger…MUCH bigger. She smiles—sure I’m just trying to make her feel better.

Then, I pull up this picture on my phone.

I tell her about the time I cried due to my belly so I could swim in a hotel pool.

You see, a belly that size makes you do things you wouldn’t ordinarily do. My aunt used to insist Griffin was sitting with his back to my back and his feet sticking straight out. It was enormous. It was heavy. It was pushing me to my brink.

Towards the end of my first pregnancy, I knew I couldn’t carry that belly one step further (or for one more loop around Surplus City). Everyone had told me going swimming was the best. thing. ever. You felt weightless! You could actually breathe! It sounded like heaven.

The only problem was in early May it was too cold to swim outside. Even as miserable as I was, I wasn’t looking for the polar bear plunge. I knew an indoor pool was my only option. We had just moved back to Paducah and the only places I could think to go to in my hormone -induced stupor were hotels.

There were about five national chains lined up next to each other near my house so I picked an afternoon, put on a bikini (God save me, it was my only option!), and headed over. The first place I stopped was a huge hotel chain. To protect their reputation, let’s just say it rhymed with Rury Inn. (It was Drury Inn, y’all.)

I waddled inside and saw a nice, older lady behind the desk. Maybe I should have known that since a hair on her head didn’t budge, she probably wouldn’t either. I explained that I was very pregnant, very miserable, and I would be eternally grateful and pay whatever it costs to go for a swim in the hotel pool. She said she couldn’t help me. That hotel policy strictly forbid it and sent me on my way.

My eyes were filling with tears before I was through the revolving door.

I was already a hormonal mess. I was already frustrated and stressed and emotional. It didn’t take much. By the time I got to my car, I was sobbing. I drove to the next hotel and scoped out the entrance to the pool to see if I could just sneak in. I walked around and around and decided the only thing worse than being that pregnant was to be that pregnant and in jail.

I went to the front desk. I was still sniffling. I kept my sunglasses on but the young man behind the counter could tell I was upset. I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice as I asked if I could please, please, please swim in their indoor pool. He said they weren’t supposed to let anyone but guests swim in the pool but he would go get his manager. He seemed a bit panicked. I think the size of my belly freaked him out and he didn’t want a weeping pregnant lady on his hands. Smart kid.

His manager came out. It was a woman, only a few years older than myself and I was instantly relieved. The moment she saw me she picked up her pace and came quickly to my side. She put her hand on my shoulder, smiled at me, and said the words I will never forget.

“Oh honey, I’ve got three of my own. Go on in and take as long as you need.” 

Turns out that wasn’t the last time I would cry over my belly because her kindness in my moment of need still brings tears to my eyes. 

Baby Products: Fantasy v. Reality

I recently found some old imported Google Notebooks. When I was pregnant with Griffin, I used one of these notebooks to organize the baby products I wanted for my baby registry.

Wait, that’s a lie.

I used one of these notebooks to organize my desired baby products before I was pregnant with Griffin. That’s right. I had everything picked out for my registry before I was even pregnant. Yes, it is very, very sad. Yes, my obsession with baby products knows no end. Yes, I’m the person you go to if you are setting up your own registry. 

However, did I actually use any of these products? Heck, no!

I’ve written before about disappointing products, but as I read through the list I didn’t just see products that I never used.

I saw a woman with some serious fantasies about baby-dom and what it takes to survive it.

First of all, this document is 58 pages long. FIFTY-EIGHT PAGES LONG. Now, in my defense, there is a lot of space and a lot of photos but still. Do I have an equally long document filled with advice on how to raise this child? Nope. I guess I was just going to wing it.

I have seven different books and Web sites on recommended baby products. When, I ask, was I going to read said books? I sure I didn’t have any time after writing (and revising and revising) my baby products manifesto. That’s for sure. The best part? THIS is actually on the list! Oh, the irony!

Next up, I have four baby journals and several other keepsake ornaments/portraits/etc. Turns out, I just use Facebook. I’m assuming Zuckerberg sends you an edited full-color photo book when your kid turns 18. Right?

However, the section with the biggest disparity between what I expected and what actually happened is absolutely diaper bags. I have NINE different diaper bags picked out, which means I probably looked at ninety. They are all cute and highly functional and I even ended up with one of them…that I never, ever carry.

Because the best part of me being obsessed with baby products? I rarely, if ever, have a baby product on me. I would say 9 times out of 10 I take my kids somewhere I walk in with my kids, myself, and my purse. No diaper bag, much less diapers or some fancy shopping cart cover. Let me show you what replaced my diaper bag.

Noticed how I showed you a nice manufacturer picture and not my actual minivan. That’s because my van is one giant (very dirty) diaper bag filled with toys and books and sippy cups. (Maybe a diaper, too, if we didn’t steal the car diapers when we ran out inside…you know you’ve done it!) I guess I just figure if we really need something that bad we’ll just go out to the car and get it. Not to mention, a majority of the time I’m hanging out with my MUCH better prepared mommy friends who will always lend me a wet wipe. 

Mainly, when I scroll through the pages and pages of baby products, I just see a scared version of myself. I thought that having a mastery of baby products meant I had a mastery of motherhood and nothing could be further from the truth. Seeing long lists of products promising to make life with a baby easier made me feel more at ease. Sure, it was a fantasy but nothing really would have prepared me for the reality…and my diaper bag IS really cute. 

P.S. Here’s the link if you want to peruse my manifesto for your own personal enjoyment. There actually is some great stuff on there. ;)

Are you pregnant? This post is for you.

I get asked a lot of questions about parenting and birth. 5 pregnancies, 3 kids, 2 home births, 1 hospital birth, 1 miscarriage, and 1 pregnancy loss doesn't make me a doctor, but it does leave me with a special kind of expertise.

The kind of expertise that comes from having been there yourself!

So, if you're looking for answers or stories or someone to say, "Yep, that's normal!" Look no further! I've got over 22,000 hours of pregnancy experience. (Seriously, I did the math.)

To get you started, I've rounded up all my posts on my #1 favorite topic.

Pregnancy:

• Top 5 Pregnancy Must Haves
• My absolute favorite pregnancy book
• How to speak to a pregnant woman
• Second (or Third) Time Mommy Anxiety
• When are you done having kids?

Birth:

• I give birth at home.
• Griffin's Birth Story
• Amos's Birth Story
• Felix's Birth Story
• The Cost of a Home Birth
• Ashley Martin and "Picture Perfect Births"
• My Postpartum Paradise (or why you should always accept help after giving birth)

Struggling with gender disappointment?

• I am an urban legend.
• What having 3 boys means... and what it doesn't

Experiencing pregnancy after loss?

• Due Date
• I have an announcement.
• How I'm coping
• Litany of Remembrance
• Grief and the choices we make
• April 10-15, 2014

If you're overwhelmed or have already read yourself cross-eyed and just want to talk to an actual human being who's been there, then I'm offering up a new service. 

I'm all your's for a one-hour phone call or online chat. Ask me the questions you're too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends or mom or a parenting chat board! I've spent 1000 of hours researching the problems. I'm not going to tell you what to do. I'm going to help you find the solution!

Do you want to know more about my experience with home birth? (No, I didn't poop.) Do you want to know what baby products really belong on your registry? Do you want to know what I did to prepare for breastfeeding?

I'm not a doctor and (obviously) I won't be offering medical advice, but I do consider myself particularly good at practical help and emotional support.

And if I can't help you, I'll find someone or some resource that can!

For $100 investment (you cant barely get a stroller for that much!), I'm all your's. 

So, give me a call!

In defense of the fat baby

Fat Felix. 

"You poor thing!"

That's the response I get most often when I tell people how much my babies weighed.

Felix was 9lbs 6 oz. Amos was 9 lbs 11.5 oz. Griffin was 9lbs 7 oz.

That's over 28 pounds of baby!

People assume my boys were difficult births. I've even had a few people make references to tearing. But guess what? Don't feel sorry for me and my chunky monkeys. I'm hear to clear some things up, especially for all you preggos living in fear of anything over 8 lbs.

Fat babies are where it's at.

First of all, my births were not difficult. (Well, I wouldn't describe Amos's birth as easy but I don't ascribe that to his weight.) I progressed naturally, was able to manage the pain, and had minimal tearing. Now, I won't say their birth weights had anything to do with my easy births. However, I will argue that a high birth weight doesn't mean you will automatically have a difficult birth.

I'm not an Amazon. I'm only 5'5" and while I do have some pretty major birthing hips, you wouldn't look at me and assume I have huge babies. I simply don't think we give our bodies enough credit for what they can do. We would be a weak link in the evolutionary chain  if we regularly grew babies that we couldn't give birth to. Sure, we have better access to prenatal care (and McDonald's) but I know plenty of petite mommas who gave birth to anything but petite babies.

So, if you're pregnant, breathe easy. Big babies come out just like little babies. And believe me when you're pushing those little buggers out  you're not exactly thinking, "I bet this would feel SO much better if this baby weighed a few pounds less!" Giving birth hurts. Period. No matter the weight.

Second, in my experience, big babies are easier once they get here. My mother-in-law (and mother of five) has famously said that once a baby reaches 10 lbs they should be able to sleep through the night. And I have to say that has been my experience. Griffin was sleeping from 10pm to 7am at about one month old with one night time feeding about 3am. Now, you can't ask for much more when it comes to newborns. I thought maybe he was a fluke but Amos and Felix - although a very different babies - have  followed suit. 

And let me just state the obvious - when they come out weighing nine pounds, you get to ten pounds A LOT quicker.

I can't begin to imagine how often a five pound baby eats or as a result how little they sleep, but I'm pretty sure if I had one I would strap that little sucker (no pun intended of course) directly to my bare chest and leave them there.

Now, I have nothing against tiny babies...except the self-control it takes me not to gobble up their teeny little fingers and toes. In fact, I think I would really enjoy a newborn that actually cuddles as opposed to my boys who come out holding their heads up and ready for pre-school.

Alas, I think I am destined for giants. Although they DO SAY that girls are smaller...

Top 5 Pregnancy Must Haves

From podcasts to bras, these pregnancy products will help make your pregnancy easier and even fun.

We've spent a lot of time recently talking about baby products (the good and the bad) but I have a TON of pregnant friends right now so I thought I'd take a step back and talk about the products that helped me survive pregnancy.

1.  Leachco Back 'N Belly - Contoured Body Pillow  I could write this entire post about my pregnancy pillow - "Ode to a Pregnancy Pillow" by Sarah Stewart Holland. I LOVE this pillow. I'm convinced it is the reason I avoid 90% of the back and hip pain that plague my pregnant friends. I also think it's the reason I wake up only once a night (to pee, of course) until the baby's arrival. You might be tempted to get a body pillow that only supports one side of your body. DON'T. You want the full wrap around style. Your husband might regret it but you never will.

2. Pregtastic Podcasts  Pregnancy can sometimes be a lonely endeavor, especially if you don't have any close friends who are also pregnant. All you think about or want to talk about is being pregnant, which usually can't be said about your husband, childless friends, or coworkers. That is why I love Pregtastic. Every podcast features pregnant panelists who ask the questions you are wondering about and share the worries and anxieties all pregnant women face. They also all come back after their babies are born to share their birth stories.

Sadly the show stopped being produced in 2012 but that doesn't mean it's still not an excellent resource for all pregnancy, birth, and baby information. If you find yourself totally overwhelmed by the stack of baby books on your bedside table, this is an excellent (and less stressful) way to take in all that information. I still think their breastfeeding series is one of the most helpful resources out there for the new breastfeeding mom.

3. Baby Bargains  Oh, the dreaded baby registry. It seems like something that should be fun (picking out free stuff!). It's not. It's high pressure and overwhelming. Don't believe me? A simple search for "stroller" on Amazon turns up 8,550 results. How the hell is a hormonal pregnant woman supposed to decide? Because as much as you want to tell yourself it's just a stroller, in your weaker moments choosing between Chicco and Combi feels like choosing between Harvard and Yale. Your child's future is at stake here!

Well, Baby Bargains to the rescue! Most baby books offer generic (and less than helpful) advice like "Pick a stroller that fits your lifestyle." Gee, thanks. Baby Bargains provides actual reviews and ratings of the actual products. I haven't recommended this book to a single pregnant woman who didn't end up with a tabbed, dog-eared copy she described as her "Bible."

4. Sara Holliday: Prenatal Yoga Series   We all know how good prenatal yoga is for you. However, not everyone has access to good prenatal yoga classes or the motivation to add one more thing to her schedule. I also never liked how most prenatal yoga classes mixed women from all trimesters in the same class. My favorite thing about this DVD is each trimester has its own workout. They range in length from 35-45 minutes and are more than doable a couple times a week. I notice such a difference when I skip a week. When I practiced regularly, my body feels less sore and stiff and I feel more relaxed and less anxious overall.

5. Majamas Organic Easy Bra  There comes a point in most pregnancies where an underwire bra is simply no longer an option. I loved this bra because it is comfortable and super-soft. The best part is you can use it as a nursing bra after the baby arrives.

This post contains affiliate links.

What were your pregnancy essentials?

A Perfect Pair Baby Shower

Not only am I pregnant, but two of my closest friends from college are also due within weeks of me – one with twins! In an effort to save our friends multiple car trips, we scheduled both Aimee’s and Erin’s baby showers last weekend. It was a party planning bonanza and I thought I’d share some of the adorable details.

First up on Saturday was Aimee’s shower celebrating the arrival of twin boys – Noah and Charlie. Our theme was “A Perfect Pair.”

Brown and green were also the colors in her nursery and we tried to use baby items she could take and use in their room – blankets,  onesies, and a name banner. The adorable invitations above were from Paperlicious. We played a Twin Baby Babble Word Game that I designed to match the invitations. We also had a “Pear Tree” where everyone could write their hopes for the babies on little paper pears to hang on the tree. The momma-to-be took them all home in a little book at the end of the shower.

Everything went beautifully and we passed out Doublemint gum as party favors as everyone was leaving.

Just in case you have a twin shower around the corner – I’m sharing a free printable version of the Twin Baby Babble game with all of you!

Enjoy!

To Freeze or Not to Freeze

Photo Credit: CarbonNYC [in SF!] via Compfight cc

Over the Holidays my mom decided she wanted something extra special for Christmas. After watching an episode of Today Show, she shares with me the process of freezing eggs. Having received cartons full of her homegrown chicken eggs on a weekly basis for over 3 years now, I assumed she was telling how to freeze chicken eggs so they last longer. As someone who occasionally worries that I’ve had the eggs in my fridge too long, I thought she was on to something. I intently listened as she described the process of taking the eggs, storing and freezing them, until she got to this part in her story… “then you throw a party, like a baby shower, but for frozen eggs”.Then, I realized that she wasn’t talking about her chicken’s eggs, she was talking about MY eggs!  

I admit. I’m a junkie for ambition. I want to accomplish a great number of things. I’m 32, recently married and working to build a software company from the ground up. I have aspirations to get a doctorate degree, run for political office and continue to be active in my community. Many books have been written to help people like me realize that having children doesn’t mean you lose the opportunity to be an ambitious person. While I believe this in theory, I wonder how true it will really be for me and my husband. I’m grateful for the friends and mentors who have paved the way and continue to remind us that having children doesn’t really indicate “the end of your life”. 

And the classic “have fun while you can” advice isn’t always the case. You can have adventure and be ambitious while having children. But how does all of this really shake out? Are these frozen eggs the solution to following your dreams THEN having kids? 

Turns out the frozen egg cocktail party (what my mom describe as a baby shower) is either an informational gathering bringing together fertility doctors, egg storage companies, and women who are interested or who have experienced the process OR an event where you announce to your friends and family “don’t worry about my ambition, take the pressure off me, I’ve frozen my eggs”.  

Instead of the pressure to hurry up and have kids, I now have the pressure to freeze my eggs. But I’m only 32. Isn’t the 30’s the new 20’s when it comes to having children?  Can’t I just be 32without the pressure of having a kid or planning the future of having a kid by freezing it in a box until “I’m ready”. After all, most people, when giving life advice, also say, “You’ll never be ready”.  So who’s to say I won’t freeze my eggs then wake up when I’m 55 without children but with a container of my 32-year-old eggs that can’t be used?  

Can I not be ambitious while having children? Is this not possible? The assumption is that I will be the one to do the heavy lifting in our family when it comes to raising a child. What if my husband is willing to pick up that load so I can be ambitious and accomplish all of my goals without having to give them up? What if he is ok with being the one our kid runs to every time he/she gets hurt? This blurb from a Guardian article in response to Sheryl Sandburg’s approach in “Lean In” hits the nail on the head. 

“It’s a normal assumption that women will have kids, and that mothers will become the primary caretaker over the father. It’s also normal these days to modify “mother” into “working mother”. But “father” is also a “working father,” yet we don’t seem to use that term very often. It’s normal to see the well-worn media image of a tired, hard-working father loosening his tie as he walks through the door to greet his wife and kids late in the evening, but a woman coming home late from the office is more often a punchline. It’s normal to call a woman neglectful for hiring a nanny, or lazy for taking maternity leave. It’s normal to make wild assumptions about women as a whole, regardless of the wide variety of individuals that the female gender encompasses.

The assumptions must be absent from the beginning. It must be accepted that a woman’s place is wherever she wants to be. The final frontier of gender equality is individualism. Just as a man is allowed to decide where his happy balance of home and work life is, so should women. Women’s place is no longer in the home. We all need to stop assuming it is.”

— Sheryl Sandberg

I don’t have a profound solution on this topic. I’m still wading through the advice and options and deciding if I go with the “kids won’t ruin your life and ambition” or the “I better freeze my eggs in case they do” version. I welcome your thoughts.

My Postpartum Paradise (or why you should always accept help after giving birth)

Postpartum bliss after Griffin was born.

After Griffin was born, we stayed at my mom’s house for two weeks. At the time, it was a matter of necessity. We had been living with my parents for several months upon moving back to Paducah and had not yet moved in to our new home.

My mom is a public school librarian and she was off for the summer. So, I basically had around-the-clock care even after Nicholas went back to work. My mom brought me water while I breastfed, did the laundry, cooked our meals, and held the baby while we slept.

It was glorious. 

Two years later, as I prepared for the arrival of baby #2, I assumed I would give birth in my own home and maybe my mom would stay with us. My mom is notoriously protective of her space; so, imagine my surprise when she said it would be easier if I had the baby at her house again and moved back in for a couple weeks with our toddler in tow. 

Again, it was fantastic. My mother isn’t the grandmother signing up for babysitting at the drop of a hat but, let me tell you, when you actually NEED her, she’s a rock star. Her and my stepfather’s help was a godsend as we adjusted to caring for two children, especially since my journey as a mother of two got off to a rocky start. 

So, there was no hesitation once Felix was born. All FIVE of us moved right back in. Felix even had the good sense to arrive during a snow storm and my mom was off from school for over a week. We snuggled in with our precious new arrival, as amazing friends and family brought us food. My stepfather entertained Griffin and Amos, while my mom took care of me and the baby. 

I just kept thinking. This is a postpartum paradise. 

Adjusting as a family of four.

It is also a pretty exceptional experience.

The World Health Organization describes the six weeks after giving birth as the most critical and yet the most neglected phase in the lives of mothers and babies. Here in America we shove a newborn in the arms of some one who has just experienced a physical trauma, pat her on the back, and leave her to her own devices. 

It's not like that everywhere. In Southern India there's a practice known as jholabhari, in which the woman moves in with her mother before giving birth and returns home to her family several months after the child is born. In Mexico, the postpartum rest period, or the cuarentena, goes for 40 days. The same is true of China and other Asian countries. 

It wasn’t always like this here. My great-grandmother stayed in bed for several weeks after the birth of my uncle (her FOURTH child!) while female relatives cared for her other children and home. My great-grandmother did the same for my grandmother and great-aunts and my grandmother insists this care is the reason she and her sisters never had any reproductive problems.

However, her advice to “never lift anything heavier than your baby for six weeks” is pretty much impossible if you are left on your own to care for an infant. 

My mom introducing Griffin to baby Felix.

When I tell people I move in with my mom after giving birth, people generally have two distinct reactions.

1. You’re so lucky!
2. I could never do that!

Yes, I am incredibly, insanely, beyond belief blessed with this arrangement. Every time I've given birth I've been enveloped by my family and my community allowing me to heal, to bond, to adjust to one of the most transformative times in a woman's life. It truly has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. My heart breaks for any new momma who don’t have family close by or family at all to come help her during this important and intense time. 

What I hear from people who say they could “NEVER” live with their mothers is either they think the interactions between them and their mothers would be too stressful or they have an intense need for independence. It’s as if they have something to prove.

Imagine that! American mothers feeling they have something to prove! 

If only I could make all these new mommas understand, the most important thing you can prove as a new momma is that you are willing to ask for help and accept it when it is offered.

Maybe your mom does stress you out. But guess what? At 2 AM when your boobs hurt, you can’t stand up straight, and the baby won’t stop crying, you’d accept help from that bitch in middle school who called you fat to your face if she could get the baby to sleep. How much worse could your mother or mother-in-law or grandmother be?

It’s not as if I don’t understand the emotions behind choosing to go it on your own. EVEN in my postpartum paradise, I’ve struggled with asking for and accepting help. With all three boys, I’ve had trouble with passing them off to my mother while I got much needed rest, especially that first night. With Amos in particular, I pushed myself so hard to still do everything for Griffin AND take care of a newborn I teetered right on the edge of postpartum depression.

Luckily, I had wise and wonderful friends and family who put the smack down on my hormonal butt and sent me to bed.

We all want to believe that as mothers no one can meet our children’s needs the way we can and, in a certain way, that is true. However, the awe-inspiring nature of motherhood is not only found in the relationship with our children but also in joining the women who have come before us on this amazing journey.  

Not only joining them, but accepting their love and support and help as we take those first precious but difficult steps. 

What was your postpartum experience?