Thoughts on August 4th, 2023…

I’m not really sure what I am trying to accomplish by putting these thoughts out into the world. Often I get the tug to write these kinds of things down and cannot shake that tug until I do. I continue to share about this time in my life because I am in awe of how my understanding of it continues to become more clear with every year that passes. So many of you have commented that you have found belonging in the words that I share. I hope that someone out there reading this finds some comfort in knowing they are not alone. I also know that not everyone appreciates this kind of honesty. If it makes you uncomfortable, I would challenge you to really explore why. I suspect there may be something that hits just a little too close to a nerve for you. I feel like there is a lot out there about the beauty of the recovery of addicts. In no way do I want to lessen the incredible accomplishment that maintaining sobriety really is. I could not be more proud of the work my partner has done and continues to do every day to fuel his recovery and grow as a person.  I am so in love with the person he has become as a result of sobriety; I hope he knows that. That being said, I think less available are the stories of the families that are behind those addicts. The people who have been in the thick and thin of it. The people who have continued to show up even when they get burned. The people who despite not wanting to (100% me), have committed to learning what their part is in the disease of addiction and are practicing their own recovery actively. To you, all who are standing behind those who suffer from the disease of addiction, I see you. I know this is hard and I am so proud of you. Keep going, I promise it is worth it. Know that there are others that know EXACTLY what you are going through and they want to help you become whole again. Please reach out if you need to talk about your journey. I know a place we can go that is brimming with experience, strength, hope, and wonderful people to support you. I will meet you there.

6 years and 1 day ago I got off the couch I was “sleeping” on at a friend’s house, jumped in my car without waking my friends, and drove back from Ft. Collins home. I hadn’t slept all night after dropping my best friend, my partner, and my lover off at rehab the night before. I had several hours to sit with my own thoughts on the way home. There was an overwhelming sense of relief on that ride. Relief that I had been excused from the duty of keeping him safe from himself. Relief that if he finally got well that I could break away, start my own life by myself. Relief that my kids may have the chance at a healthy upbringing even though we were starting late and likely soon splitting for good. Relief that someone else would be able to see how sick he was and would figure out how to fix him. Relief that all the years that I struggled to get him to understand, I wasn’t overreacting, I wasn’t a crazy person as I had been made to believe, I was right. I know now that addiction is a family disease but I had no idea that day. I left thinking that everything would change when he got well. I knew that I had my own issues but I never even considered that addiction was the cause of my own brokenness too.

6 years and 1 day ago, I had zero hope for reconciling my marriage. 6 years and 1 day ago, I barely had the gas money to drive 6 hours away to take him to rehab. I was late on rent and had to ask my landlord if he would let me pay part of my rent with the next paycheck.  6 years and 1 day ago, I was explosive, reactive and angry. 6 years and 1 day ago, I had no understanding of who I was as a person. My entire personality had become centered on how to fix someone else. 6 years and 1 day ago, I was anxious if there wasn’t some kind of crisis happening around me. That was my baseline. 6 years and 1 day ago, what I thought would make my future brighter ended up pushing me farther into the darkness. 6 years and 1 day ago, I had many well-meaning friends and family express their condolences for the end of my partnership and their support of my breaking away from that partnership forever. 6 years and 1 day ago, my children asked me if their father and I would be getting a divorce and my answer was “Yes, I think so.” Gratefully, 6 years and 1 day ago, I was reborn.

I had no idea that I had been birthed into a whole new, amazing life but I would find out over the next few months. It took a long time for me to really admit just how broken I was and how deeply it ran in my past. Just how addicted I had been to “fixing” my partner and how angry I had become at his unwillingness to just do what I said to get better. I had resolved that I couldn’t be with someone who refused to change for me and his children, I was done. It was the most stereotypical, untreated Al-Anon, stinking thinking that I had poisoned myself with.

I used to be embarrassed and secretive about the active addiction days. Now I am mostly embarrassed at my own behavior in that time. I think about some of the things I said in the first few of my Al-Anon meetings and I cringe. I think about my utter heartlessness when trying to “help” my partner during his active illness and I am heartbroken. I also have much regret for the choices I made in that time. While he was in treatment, we would be separated for 65 days but also separated by the near impermeable walls I had put up. I was so guarded in the beginning of his recovery, so bitter. To my credit, I had been lied to, manipulated, and burned so many times in the previous years that I made the choice to protect myself. I finally decided to put myself first but in the most unhealthy way possible. In guarding my heart, I missed so much beauty in those first few weeks that he was home. I missed the opportunity to fall completely in love with him again while he was actively courting me the way I had always wanted. I missed many opportunities to tell him just how proud I was of him for all the work he had accomplished and the milestones he was reaching every day. I missed watching my kids see their dad come alive again and their relief that the chaos had subsided. Today, I still have a longing to have a “do-over” for those early days. I wish I had been well enough to have been vulnerable to accept the kind of love my partner was trying so hard to give me. I have sadness over knowing I will never have that specific time and opportunity again. I have since forgiven myself for my cold behavior and I know my partner has never held that against me.

Al-Anon taught me how to soften again. How to be vulnerable with boundaries, I had NO IDEA that was a thing. It taught me how to focus on my own shortcomings and allow him to heal himself. Or fail. Either way, I would not be responsible for that. 6 years later, I still find myself in active recovery from this disease. I still find myself trying to see if I can detect alcohol on his breath when he kisses me after he’s spent a night away from home. I know this is absolutely insane and I can immediately recognize the toxic nature of these thoughts. That is the first step though, admitting that you have a problem. I have a problem and will continue to go back to that first step for as long as it takes to break this awful cycle. And I will be grateful for every lesson it has given me and continues to give me along the way.

Thoughts on 40….

These have been brewing for a few weeks leading up to this milestone birthday; I am just sitting down on this day of my birth to scribble them down. They likely aren’t going to be anything special, definitely not linear, just scrambled thoughts on a page. So much has changed in the 10 years since my last milestone birthday. These thoughts are just a handful of the meaningful times I want to reflect on. If you don’t believe that the briefest of moments change our lives, keep reading. These are just a few of the moments I know have provided turning points for me.

Birthdays naturally lend themselves to life review but milestone birthdays seem to magnify that. I had a hospice patient once tell me that she never felt bad about getting older, that if you are lucky enough to continue to have birthdays you are winning. She also died young. I have never forgotten to be grateful for continuing to have birthdays. I also can’t help but think of all my beautiful friends who will stay the same age forever, will never have another birthday. Who now have a different birthday, the one in which they transitioned into whatever comes next, one that isn’t celebrated but mourned forever. Grief never goes away but gratefully I know it does get easier. I will celebrate my birthdays for all of them as long as I am lucky enough to have them. Celebratory moments!

A little over 2 years ago as I was walking myself into the ER while having what I thought was a stroke and turned out to be exactly that, I had the thought that I may not be celebrating anymore birthdays. But here I am with full use of my body and most of mind 😉 celebrating this day. I’ve been thinking about my health on my 30th birthday. I was a ticking timebomb; physically, emotionally, spiritually I was very unwell. So unwell that I didn’t recognize it or maybe I did but decided that the task of turning it around would be impossible, so denial is where I landed. Today as I write this I can for sure say that all those things are so much better. Physically I am in better health than I have been for nearly 20 years; even after 3 babies and a stroke. Especially after 3 babies and a stroke. Emotionally, I am at least aware of the way I feel and willing to feel it fully to process. This has definitely been the hardest work I have ever done in my life. And if I’m honest I can say that I have come very close to losing the battle a few times, but I have made the choice to stay over and over. I will continue to do so, no matter how hard the path may be. I am so grateful for the few people in my orbit that I have felt safe enough to share these incredibly dark times with (you know who you are), I can guarantee that without you all I would not be here scribbling still. Spiritually, I know now and always that the Universe has my back. When I have had doubts, it has smacked me with the most incredible opportunities and gifts. All I had to do was jump off that ledge of doubt and fall into trust. Just moments that altered the way I have lived.

A global pandemic happened. Definitely a plot twist I didn’t expect. Where were you when you heard about the shutdown coming to your immediate vicinity? Just one moment and everything changed for all of us forever.

I found the love of my life; again and again. I think about my marriage 10 years ago and I can hardly believe it is the same one. So much moving both in maturity and physically. So. Many. Moves. Ugh. Cross country ones to 4 doors down. We have shared so many spaces together. Not all have been wonderful. The first half of the last decade was rough for us. It’s really hard to imagine where we would be if we would have continued down that path. I can honestly say that our marriage would not exist. I am not sure we would both still be on the planet celebrating birthdays. I know how we got to where we are today, it’s rather unbelievable but unforgettable. It is nothing short of a miracle. I couldn’t be prouder of my partner for doing the hard work too. Also, I am so grateful that he gave me the space I needed to gain the clarity of what was really important again. If he hadn’t done that, I would have definitely thrown away the greatest love I have ever known. I met him at 15, from the moment I laid eyes on him, I was in love. Seriously, love at first sight. I am 40 today and can say that I have loved him for the last 25 years. Wow…. I’m not going to harbor delusions that I have LIKED him every day but that love for him has never left my heart. We are connected forever, and I am so grateful. A few years ago, when I was ready to give up on us a close friend of mine said “Most people have 2 or 3 marriages in their lifetime. If you are lucky, they are with the same person.” I bet that person doesn’t know that was the moment that brought me back into my marriage. I bet they don’t even remember saying it. Someday I hope to be able to tell them just how much that one statement changed my life. Remember that a moment you don’t remember, may be the life altering moment for someone else.

10 years ago, I had a 2 and 4 year old. Today they are 12 and 14! What the actual fuck is that about?? I don’t mind getting older but if they could stop getting older, I would be grateful. They are beautiful humans too. Kind, intelligent, caring, sassy, and loving. I don’t know how we did it, but it seems we are going to put some incredible big humans into the world. Almost daily I have sadness that our time with them under our roof is rapidly passing. I am trying to grasp the moments we have left and not let go. We also gained another tiny human who was honestly not in the cards. At one point we wanted to experience another baby from a place of wellness but after a painful miscarriage, we weren’t sure we could continue to be vulnerable to that pain repeatedly. Again, the Universe had other plans. I remember thinking how relieved I was that we didn’t have a baby in the beginning of what looked like it could be a global pandemic about to happen to us. I also remember looking at the positive pregnancy test the week before the shutdown and thinking to myself “so I guess we’re doing this in a pandemic. Jeana- 0, Universe-1.” All the struggle to get this being earthside was worth every painful, scary moment. The beautiful ones have far outweighed the scary. I can’t wait to tell him that he was so loved from day one and that we all protected him fiercely from what we did not know before we even knew him. Now I know him as Milo, my wild mama’s boy who will never know the sickness our family dealt with before he came along. He has healed something in our family that I could have never imagined. Watching the way his siblings love and care for him is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Moments I never thought I would experience, and I wouldn’t trade for anything.

I have had the honor and privilege of caring for so many people who are now gone. I have learned more on how to live from those dying than anyone who is living their best life. Please don’t misunderstand me, live your best life but if you have the opportunity to listen to some wisdom from someone whose life is limited, take it every time. Drop everything and connect with that person. I cannot describe the type of relationships I have had within in my career. Mostly because the people I’ve had a relationship with are no longer here to continue the relationship. They were, for lack of a better phrase, short lived. I will say that the connections I have made with the dying are not meaningful in a way that I can describe with words from a dictionary. They are human in the most pure way; primal. I get chills every time I think about the role I have played for so many people. For some I know for certain, the relationship we had was the ONLY time they were able to be vulnerable with another human in their life. And then they died. I get to hold those moments in my heart for the rest of my life and remember to be courageously vulnerable in life moving forward. I am not always good at it, often I confused vulnerability with sharing everything with everyone. Or I give my vulnerable self to the wrong people. 10 years ago, when that would happen, I immediately built walls and it took too much time to tear them down to dip my toes in the vulnerability pool again. No matter who I was shutting out of my orbit with those impermeable walls. I deeply regret the times I hardened instead of leaning into softening. I am still learning this every day, mostly I am learning this is a practice. My only advice, be brave but do it authentically. Tell them you love them and mean it. Or tell them you don’t love them if that’s what your heart knows is true. Do it standing tall and know your truth fully. Be gentle with others but hold your boundaries too. Don’t ever confuse bravery for aggression, they are not even in the same family. Find the source of aggression and let that shit go. I am so grateful for the work I have been able to do in the last 10 years both professionally and personally. I have put my career on a pedestal that I never thought I could take down. Hospice is my life’s work. I know this for sure. Will it be the work I do for my whole life? I am starting to wonder about this in the last few months. Not because I want to leave the intensely primal relationships but because I am unsure if this healthcare climate is going to allow that deep rooted work to continue. If I can’t practice hospice nursing in a deeply vulnerable way, I will not practice it at all. The dying deserve better. There have been some incredibly painful moments associated with this realization in the last few months. I can honestly say I am grateful for every single lesson I have taken from it.

10 years ago I can honestly say I craved the life I have now. Through all the hard times, I daydreamed about a time that I could come home to a space that is beautiful and worthy of sharing with others. Daydreamed about having a partner who sees me, and when they don’t are willing to readjust their vision to see clearly again. Waking up on my birthday to see my car has huge 4-0 balloons tied to it, messages written all over it and the most amazing crown in the front seat to ring in this new milestone. I have friends that are closer than I ever thought possible, women and men that I know with 100% certainty have my back. Some I have known and loved 25 years, some have come into my life in the last few years. All are a major part of the reason I am committed to keep going every day. I have family and extended family that have been there for me even when they knew I was hurting myself and now are beaming with pride at the place I have built with my life partner. Through all the times I never thought this type of life was possible, I was able to do one simple thing that I am certain is the reason I am here bawling while I write this. That simple thing is gratitude.

This one word has been weaved into my life consistently for so many years but I really think I started to double down on the gratitude around 30. Something inside me knew that if I was able to find something, any TINY thing to be grateful for, more good came to me. It wasn’t always easy to do. In the toughest of times I remember nights when my checking account was negative, pay day was a week away, I had two beautiful children to feed and the world seemed to be closing in on me. Instead of giving up, I would gratitude up. I would literally take myself on a tour of our home and point out all the things that I needed to be grateful for. All. The. Things. The sheets on our bed, the hot water, the heat pumping from the heater, the lights, the oven, the fridge….. All the things. When our family hit rock bottom, I struggled to find gratitude in the incredible difficulty we were experiencing. I took myself to my spiritual home to get gratitude by proxy. Listening to the way others viewed their own life helped me to reframe. I reluctantly took myself to Al-Anon just to be in a room of people who were honestly grateful for the disease of alcoholism. I had absolutely NO IDEA what they were talking about and couldn’t ever imagine a day that I would be grateful for the disease that had not so gently thrown my family into rock bottom. But there was something about the way they talked about their own rock bottom and getting better that was so enticing. Surely this program wasn’t how they did it but I stuck around to continue to hear their experience, strength and hope. Eventually, I found myself sharing my own gratitude for those rooms to the newcomer in the room. Gratitude for that rock bottom and the gift it brought me in the form of the courage to finally make a change. Those rooms saved my marriage, my family and if I’m honest, my life. I will never be able to fully express my gratitude for them. If you are struggling too, take a tour of your space, find some tiny thing to focus on to be grateful for. I promise that if you do that everyday the world will get brighter and transform into what you never thought was possible. I am living proof.

Today, on this day of my birth I am proud of myself. Proud of my life. Proud of my pain. Proud of my flaws. I want the next 10 years to bring me deeper into…. my own vulnerability, my own love for who I am, my authenticity, my ability to love, my ultimate purpose. I don’t know exactly how to accomplish these things but I do know that just putting them out there and being open to the gentle nudges from the Universe will eventually find me exactly where I want to be.

Thank you all for being along for the ride, the good and the bad. I am so looking forward to this next phase, honestly I am. I hope you have something to look forward to also. I love you all.

My first photo.

40th Bday photo with my greatest accomplishments.

Women’s Healthcare is Important…

Author’s note: This piece was initially written as a speech for a women’s march in October 2021 in my small western Colorado town. I ended up with COVID the same week and was unable to deliver but it was delivered for me. Sharing here because I am grateful for the outcome and for the safety that my state offers to women in need of this type of healthcare.

When the pregnancy test came up positive in early March 2020, I was pretty surprised. So was my husband. Our older children were 9 & 11 and although we had wanted one more we suffered the heartache of miscarriage 18 months earlier and thought we were done. I was 37 at the time, “geriatric” in the obstetrics world, and anxious from the last failed pregnancy. All of this lead me to get a fetal DNA test to check for major defects in my unborn baby. I was so excited that we would find out the gender several weeks ahead of where you normally would. Little did I know that this blood draw would start a ticking clock that we would be racing for several weeks. I was 12 weeks pregnant when the lab results came back. A local provider called me at home and told me that our baby very likely had a significant defect. One that if our baby survived pregnancy it would live only a few hours and had a high likelihood of being born without vital organs. I was devastated. My husband was devastated. My two older children were devastated. How could this happen to us again? We already had a series of ultrasounds and we knew there was a growing fetus with a heartbeat present and I didn’t understand. As difficult as it was to talk about, my husband and I agreed that if this was confirmed we would terminate this pregnancy. I am a hospice nurse and have dedicated my life to ensuring that people with chronic and terminal illnesses don’t have to suffer. I couldn’t possibly allow my child to suffer; even for a moment. This baby would only know the inside of it’s mamas safe and comfortable womb and would be allowed the dignity to die without pain.

The next step was getting this confirmed, we were referred to a specialist an hour away for an in-depth ultrasound. This was not able to happen until nearly 14 weeks pregnant. Following the ultrasound, we consulted with a doctor from the closest children’s hospital (5 hours away). He was hopeful for this pregnancy but of course could not be sure without definitive DNA diagnostics. He told us that we could have an amniocentesis but this could not be done local to us. We would have to make an appt at a hospital several hours away and stay overnight following the procedure to reduce the chance of miscarriage. Additionally, there was a high likelihood that the provider would be 2-4 weeks out for scheduling. This timeframe would put us somewhere between 16 and 18 weeks pregnant. Then the wait time for results is up to 30 days on top of that, putting us at 20-22weeks pregnant. More than halfway, past the time when most women find out the gender of their baby, past the point where you really start to feel your baby move, and past the point when the termination becomes a delivery. There were no services for this type of procedure here either. We would be leaving our beloved community to have this awful experience with strangers. None of it made sense and none of it was fair.

Fortunately for us, the specialist doctor said that our baby’s ultrasound looked “unremarkable” and he recommended that we have this DNA test redrawn now that I was further along. He explained that in women that have a larger stature or are too early in their pregnancy there just isn’t enough fetal DNA to evaluate the baby accurately. Therefore, the company doesn’t evaluate the DNA at all. The original provider who gave us this devastating news did so without understanding how to read the test their own practice offered. My devastation turned to rage. How could a provider do this to families? Turns out, this was not the first time either. A close friend of mine had the exact same experience as we did just 1 year earlier. UNBELIVABLE and unacceptable.

Our story has a happy ending in that our second DNA test came back absolutely normal and I delivered a healthy full-term, bouncing baby boy on October 26^th 2020. I couldn’t be more grateful for this little miracle but I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that if I hadn’t been a healthcare worker myself I could have made a life-altering choice based on that first provider’s delivery of news. Women should not have to be their own medical providers, we should be able to trust those that are licensed to take care of us. Thank you all for being here to advocate for the healthcare rights of all women, everywhere.

Pregnancy is hard…

Author’s note: This is a piece I wrote and published on FaceBook on 10/19/2020. As I revive this blog I realized that I have lots of content that is appropriate from other platforms.

36 weeks today. We have officially made it to month 9 of pregnancy. Hooray!

Pregnancy with Wilson and Stella were pretty magical experiences for me. I felt great up until the very end with both. Didn’t have many complications and/or negative symptoms. I came away from both of them thinking I could be a surrogate because I enjoyed the process so much. I always thought if I was lucky enough to have a 3rd (that was not specifically in the cards ) I would savor every single second. I would commit every moment to memory so I could remember the magic forever.

Here’s the thing though, most people don’t know this, but we had a miscarriage about 2 years ago. A “missed miscarriage” meaning that our baby died but my body didn’t respond and held on tight. We were given medication to finish the process and sent home. Not before I requested a few blood tests and ultrasounds to be sure we just didn’t have our dates off. It was one of the most emotionally painful things I have experienced and also intensely private because it’s not something we talk about as a society. I still think about that baby on their due date and will forever honor the date on which they left my body. Consequently, when I got pregnant with this guy the magic was immediately replaced with fear. The fear that I would not meet this baby either. Miscarriage takes the joy and carefree nature from pregnancy and replaces it with constant brain weasels telling you your baby is not safe in your own body. In addition, we were told very early on in pregnancy that this boy had a fatal genetic defect. The kind where he would be born with multiple anomalies, possibly without some vital organs, and would likely not survive the pregnancy let alone outside the protection of my body. I was devastated. How could this be happening again? How could our family endure this kind of pain twice? How did I get 2 perfect children already? How do I tell them again? How will I possibly make the decision to terminate? We were sent to a specialist for additional follow-up with the understanding that we would likely need to make a decision about continuing to carry this baby or medically terminating after the diagnosis was confirmed.

I am incredibly relieved to report that the lab test that “diagnosis” was based on was faulty and this guy is healthy, whole, and complete. He also has presented me with every single pregnancy symptom and almost every complication in the book. From debilitating nausea to insulin-dependent gestational diabetes to severe SPD with unreal pelvic pain and now the beginnings of preeclampsia. I have had no choice but to be fully present with this boy and trust me when I say I will remember this pregnancy forever. And I will be over the moon to meet him and put pregnancy behind me. Forever.

All that to say that I want to chime in on all the brave women who have shared their medical termination/abortion stories recently. There is NO WOMAN (seriously find me one) that gets to this point in pregnancy and decides “Nah I don’t want to do this anymore”. None. Zero. Zilch. We get to this point in pregnancy by literally running a marathon every single day (this is science, google it) in exchange for giving the gift of life to this world. If you are not the woman carrying another body inside you please refrain from making the decisions for either of these bodies. These decisions are hard enough for women and families to make without your gross judgment. And if you are one of these brave women still holding that experience in an intensely private way, here is the most giant, gentle hug. I see you and I applaud your strength to walk through this experience with the grace you are.

#Gratitude#homestretch

Postpartum Confessions: Episode 1

Author’s note: This piece is part of a series I wrote and published on FaceBook. This episode was originally published on 11/18/2020. As I revive this blog I realized that I have lots of content that is appropriate from other platforms

#PostpartumConfessions episode 1:

Because of our previous miscarriage, when I found out I was pregnant again we had a very early ultrasound to confirm viability. We did this in the first couple of weeks of Covid lockdown. We told only a couple of really close support people because the potential heartbreak of “untelling” people was too much to bear. The ultrasound tech was able to see a heartbeat right away but it was much lower than it should be. Also, the size of the fetus was about a week behind. I thought for sure it was impending bad news. She said not to worry, it could be that the heart had just started beating in the last couple of hours. We would recheck in 1 week to be sure. The follow-up was obviously normal.

I had a moment this week looking at sweet, tiny Milo. I literally saw with my own two eyes what was likely the first few flutters of his lifetime of heartbeats and now here he is, in my arms, a whole new human belonging to Mother Earth.

Hormones are weird. Having a newborn is so hard. Breastfeeding is wonderful and terrible simultaneously. We are all just miracles walking around. Being a mom and stretching my heart beyond its previous capacity for the 3rd time is absolutely priceless.

Postpartum Confessions: Episode 2

Author’s note: This piece is part of a series I wrote and published on FaceBook. This episode was originally published on 11/18/2020. As I revive this blog I realized that I have lots of content that is appropriate from other platforms. I have included this one so the series is complete but clearly, it’s not a deep thought.

Postpartum Confessions: Episode 3

Author’s note: This piece is part of a series I wrote and published on FaceBook. This episode was originally published on 11/18/2020. As I revive this blog I realized that I have lots of content that is appropriate from other platforms. I have included this one to ensure the series is complete but clearly it’s not that deep. ha!

Postpartum Confessions: Episode 4

Author’s note: This piece is part of a series I wrote and published on FaceBook. This episode was originally published on 12/02/2020. As I revive this blog I realized that I have lots of content that is appropriate from other platforms.

#PostpartumConfessions

Episode 4:

EDITED TO ADD: Don’t get me wrong… I am SO in love and enjoying this miracle being…. and I would sign up for every bit of discomfort to have him again.

I just feel like the “4th trimester” and it’s challenges are often ignored. Speaking my truth about it all feels good.

No one tells you that you will go from the pregnancy glow to the postpartum haggard in no time.

Hormone shifts are (mostly) responsible. That and insomnia. And the sharp decline in self care. Once your baby is outside of your body, the tender loving way you cared for your own body moves to taking care of their little body. Just a few of the joys: Hair falling out, brittle nails, dry skin/acne (at the same time! WTF?), weird body odor (TMI?).

My pregnancy felt like a continuous hangover due to complications. The Postpartum period IS the pregnancy hangover. It’s all real glamorous I tell ya.

Thank the Universe for the gift of oxytocin. Without it our planet would be barren for sure.

Postpartum Confessions: Episode 5

Author’s note: This piece is part of a series I wrote and published on FaceBook. This episode was originally published on 12/28/2020. As I revive this blog I realized that I have lots of content that is appropriate from other platforms.

#PostpartumConfessions

Episode 5:

I took the kids sledding today at the park in town. All 3 just me. Everyone had all their snow clothes, we brought water, went through the trader drive-thru for hot chocolate on the way and I even remembered to bring my Bluetooth speaker so I could jam. The baby was sleeping snuggly in the baby carrier, big kids were up and down the sled hill a million times; everyone was happy. It was even snowing just lightly, picturesque really. I felt like I was killing it. Just then a song I really like came over the speaker. I put my hand in my pocket to turn it up using my phone’s side volume buttons. I pushed the button 3 times but the volume didn’t change. My phone did, however, make a very loud alarm-type noise I’d never heard before. I slid it out of my pocket just in time to stop a call to 911 (or so I thought) but then my phone flashed “notifying emergency contacts” and started counting down from 10. I quickly stopped that too. I then got a call from dispatch asking if I had an emergency… she was super kind and logged my name and mistake for their records. The moral of the story is… if the volume isn’t turning up STOP PUSHING THE BUTTON! Also, pretty cool feature on iPhone. Pushing the lock button 3 times in a row alerts ALL the authorities. Lastly, never assume you’ve got it all together the universe can send you a reminder.

Postpartum Confessions: Episode 6

Author’s note: This piece is part of a series I wrote and published on FaceBook. This episode was originally published on 01/25/2021. As I revive this blog I realized that I have lots of content that is appropriate from other platforms.

#postpartumconfessions

Episode 6:

A handful of thoughts on the eve of going back to work…

1. Anyone who says maternity leave is relaxing has obviously never had a baby.

2. In America, about the time you get a routine down with your baby you have to go back to work and create a whole new routine. Whether you want to or not.

3. Packing for work now includes a baby bag, a breast pumping bag, a laptop bag, two coolers (one for breast milk and one for your own food), and 3 trips from the house to the car every morning before you can leave.

4. There is sadness in leaving your baby in the care of someone else after not having more than an hour without them for 3 months (not counting the time inside your body).

5. If I’m being totally honest there is also some serious relief and excitement in leaving your baby in someone else’s care. When you have a career you absolutely adore, flexing those professional purpose-driven muscles feels really good.

6. There is endless worry in leaving your baby in someone else’s care. In my experience, this never leaves you, no matter how old your children are. I still worry endlessly about my big kids too.

7. I have the most amazing collective community caring for me and my family even if it is from a safe distance. Seriously, you all makeup for the crappy way our country cares for postpartum moms and families as a whole. I could never thank you enough for the endless meals, treats, gifts, cards, calls, texts, and messages. There has not been a day that I haven’t felt loved and supported by at least one of you.

8. Daycare is expensive and scary and almost nonexistent in this community. Not to mention the exhaustion of trying to decide if daycare in a pandemic is right for you. Thank the Universe for amazing grandparents.

9. PSA: Vaccines are life-saving. Seriously. Get vaccinated when you can. Had to throw this one in while I had your attention.

10. Last but not least, I have overwhelming gratitude for this perfect little being I have helped create and fully nurtured. I also have complete faith that he and I will adjust to our new norm and appreciate each other even more. If you see me crying this week, it’s just the oxytocin withdrawal.