Motherhood has been an amazing adventure. I feel energized and am constantly learning new things about myself on a daily basis. I am in awe of how the babe is growing and learning. And there are moments where I feel like my heart is so full that it’s going to burst.
And then there are days when I wish I could be sent to timeout.
To take a break and get away from the constant pressures of taking care of another (albeit cute) human being. To have personal space again. To stop feeling like my brain is constantly being in fifteen places at once. And to get a mental breather from it all.
And then I feel guilty for wanting to get away… until I remind myself that it’s okay to take care of myself and get my needs met too.
There is nothing healthy or productive about being overwhelmed, irritable, and anxious all the time.
This past week has been a special one in the Levenson household. We have a teething baby who is a raging crankball that doesn’t want to sleep at night. Pair that with transitioning into working again and a husband that has been super busy at work (and therefore not around as much to help out).
Showering has been quick at best.
Eating has been a juggling act of holding a baby and grabbing the quickest thing possible (i.e.—total crap).
And sleeping has been… sporadic.
No rest. No breaks. And no down time.
After a pretty epic breakdown, I handed the baby to The Hubster and went to go get a pedicure. I came back feeling refreshed and renewed. And had pretty toes to boot.
I’m not sure that it mattered what I did during that hour, just that I took it.
That night, The Hubster and I talked about how to make that a regular thing. We have agreed to carve out an hour each week (at least) for me to do the things that I want to do—whether it’s getting my toes done or writing a newsletter.
And you know what? Just knowing that I have that time carved out each week has made everything better.
I like to have things organized. I like to have goals to work towards. And I like it when things go according to (my) plan.
So when this baby decided she was going to come via C-Section, my whole world become one big unknown in the span of 24 hours.
I had no idea what to expect from the procedure itself. And I had little to no idea of what the recovery process would be like. I tried to read a few articles here and there, but most of them just talked about taking pain medication, walking as soon as you could, and waiting for the doctor to clear you for “activity” of all kinds. Until then, it was a whole lot of gray.
Now that I’m 3+ weeks into the recovery process, there are (more than) a few things that surprised me.
The swelling. Oh, the swelling. The last 4-6 weeks of my pregnancy were filled with swelling. I totally had Shrek feet. Clothing became super tight in the legs (goodbye skinny jeans, hello leggings and yoga pants). I stopped being able to wear my wedding bands. And three fingers on my right hand went numb.
To say that I was excited to have this baby so the swelling would go away is an understatement.
Sadly, the exact opposite happen. The swelling got WAY worse before it started to get better. Meaning, my entire body (and face) ballooned up and I was super uncomfortable. It’s finally gone down to the point where my feet aren’t swollen and I can actually get my weddings bands back on.
The bump…stays. I’m not sure what I thought happened immediately after giving birth, but it didn’t really include having a pregnant looking belly still.
I know, I know. Rationally, it makes sense that the belly doesn’t just immediately disappear. But, seriously. It really doesn’t go away that quickly. Thankfully, I packed my favorite yoga pants and maternity leggings so I was comfortable in the hospital and on the way home.
At 3 weeks postpartum, I look about 3-4 months pregnant and am still in my maternity clothing.
I am seriously happy at how the bump has started to go down and am actually beginning to recognize my body again.
The one things I did read about with regard to a C-Section was how helpful abdominal bands like the Belly Bandit* are when it comes to recovery.
I can confidently say that this was a godsend. Not only did it help with the whole compression of the incision thing, it also helped to keep all my parts together when laughing, coughing, or sneezing. I’m not sure I could have been quick enough on the draw to grab a pillow like they recommend.
Thankfully the hospital provided a band for me when I asked, so didn’t have to go out and buy one. But I totally would have gone out and bought one otherwise.
The joys of breastfeeding. It seems like all of my deepest fears about pregnancy and parenthood revolved around breastfeeding. I have no idea why this was the target of it all, but it was. Add surgery into the mix, and holy crap did this get even more intensified for me.
It took a lot of trial and error to figure out what was most comfortable.
Suffice it to say the football hold made a huge difference. As did lots of pillows—instead of the Boppy*—in the very beginning because of the incision and the way my belly was still big, and using the My Brest Friend* nursing pillow when we got home.
It also took a lot of work to let go of the huge amount of guilt I felt around taking pain medication while breastfeeding.
Oh, and whoever tells you that breastfeeding doesn’t hurt in the beginning is LYING. That first 10-20 seconds are torture. It does get better over time, but the first few days to week(s) are intense. Like eyes-rolling-in-the-back-of-your-head intense. I took to singing ridiculous songs like Row, Row, Row Your Boat just to distract myself.
Holy hormones, batman.
It’s one thing to know about the Baby Blues and Postpartum Depression. It is another thing entirely to experience it.
I had a major hormone crash while in the hospital (that kind of sent me into a tailspin), and a few others once I got home. So weird to be crying hysterically, knowing that there is nothing wrong but not being able to stop it.
Naps and breastfeeding seemed to really help balance me out. As did the pain medication.
The ravenous hunger (and thirst).
I thought I knew what hunger was. Then I became pregnant. And really thought I knew what hunger was.
Yeah…nothing compares the hunger I am feeling while breastfeeding. I wake up ravenous. I go to bed ravenous. I feel ravenous immediately after eating a big meal.
And thirsty. So thirsty, in fact, that I’ve taken to keeping not one but two water bottles on my night stand (along with a handful of snacks), because inevitably, one isn’t enough.
Living life in 2-3 hour chunks. This has probably been the biggest adjustment for me. I am so not used to having to plan my life in 2-3 hour chunks. And am finding that my brain is having a really hard time with this one.
Pre-baby, I would just wake up (after 7-8 hours of uninterrupted sleep), shower, have breakfast, and then go sit in my office and work for 6-8 hours with a small break for lunch, before stopping to make dinner.
I have to decide whether I want to shower or eat or nap before feeding the baby again. And then IF I’m lucky, get a 20 minute stretch at the computer (if she’ll nap in her crip and not on me). The rest of my time is spent feeding the baby, huffing her head, and cuddling with her.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m loving every second I have with the baby. I’m just adjusting to our new normal.
I’ll admit that I thought it was a weird suggestion in all of the “What to Pack for the Hospital” lists to have cotton underwear that was a bit…higher waisted.
Now that I’m on the other side, I totally get it.
Having a bikini line incision, and then trying to wear bikini cut panties is like a special kind of hell. I had to dig deep in the underwear drawer to find some suitable options that weren’t going to irritate my incision.
My recommendation, don’t be vain. Get the damn granny panties and be comfortable. You’re not exactly going to feel like having sexy time (nor will you be cleared for it) for a while.
And there you have it. The first three weeks of life with a new baby.
I’m learning a little something new—about motherhood, myself, The Hubster—everyday.
Also feeling like my heart is going to explode with sheer happiness every time I look down at the beautiful baby in my arms.
Life. is. good.
PS—Didn’t have a chance to read about how Anna came into this world? You can find it here.
PPS—The * indicates where there is an affiliate link on Amazon.
PPPS—Many thanks to My Mama, Janet Towbin, for the gorgeous photos.
This post comes from Shannon of A Librarian’s Lists and Letters , and is part of a special day of shenanigans from other Pittsburgh Bloggers. You can see my post over on Don’t Forget to Eat, where I am sharing some delicious ideas for putting together your very own refrigerator oats collection.
When I was assigned to write for Emily’s blog in this exchange, I was a little intimidated. So much of what Emily writes is to inspire others, to shine light on the world, and to give voices to wonderful women that not everyone knows.
But that moment of intimidation was fleeting and I soon knew what I would share with her and her readers. See, I’ve had a big change in my life in the last year and I wanted to be able to share my story. Because stories come in all colors. And motherhood can be found in all shapes and sizes.
This time last year I was the most single of single women.
I was the 30-something silently, and not-so-silently, judging the slew of Facebook moms over sharing their child’s world and feeling like society only placed value on women who grew up, got married, and popped out a few children as quickly as possible.
Quite honestly, I sometimes felt like there was no place for a woman like me: professional, witty, intelligent, and single but not by choice.
But life has this really funny habit of turning our world’s upside downs.
And just when I finished celebrating my 10-year college reunion and accepted that I might be the perpetually single friend, I fell in love. And the man I fell in love with is a dad. And now I live with two funny men: one in his 30s and the other just shy of one.
So now I wake up to little giggles coming from the next room over, let someone hold my hairbrush while getting ready for work in the morning, pack lunches for daycare, give the best tickles in the house, cheer excitedly for small milestones, pretend to eat bites of food for encouragement, sing endless rounds of baby tunes, dance the freeze dance, coax steps across the living room, and hush a tired little boy to sleep as he curls up in my lap every night.
And when he leaves us to spend the other fifty percent of the week at his other house, I miss him. I long to hear his laughter. I think about what he’s up to. I wonder if he misses us. I love him when he’s near and I love when he’s far.
But I didn’t give birth to him.
I didn’t adopt him.
And because his dad and I aren’t married yet, I don’t even have the flimsy and unsentimental title of step-mom.
I’m an unexpected mother.
An unexpected mother doesn’t go to doctor’s appointments or talk to daycare teachers. And an unexpected mother can’t call and talk to her little baby when he’s gone and she misses him. And an unexpected mother can get hurt by the reactions of friends and acquaintances.
People, even the ones closest to me, don’t always know how to react to my situation.
A year ago I might have felt the same. But now, as unexpected mother, I wish these things for my friends and myself:
For the friends closest to me to think of me as a mom and to ask me about my family.
For them to celebrate the new loves of my life and look forward to that day when our baby will start talking.
And when he does hit those milestone, for those same friends to help me discover what perfect name or title he should call me.
For people not to judge without knowing the full story. Not every single dad was a philanderer.
For me to stop worrying so much about what I cannot control.
For me to share this experience with others.
The more loving families in the world, no matter their composition, the better we all are.
But this is one journey that’s just beginning and we all need as much as help as we can get.
When Caroline first reached out to me to review a copy of her cookbook, I’ll admit I was a bit skeptical. I have never loved gluten-free cookbooks, finding that they either contain a ton of specialty ingredients, or the recipes are so far out there that the general population would not be interested in making them.
When the cookbook arrived, every skeptical thought and doubt was erased by the sheer awesomeness of the book. From the first chapter where Caroline talks about her journey into Gluten-Free living, through the recipe section, and into the final pages of The Lifestyle section.
Then I had the opportunity to speak with Caroline. We talked about living with food sensitivities, how the changes one makes as a result involve more than just the food you consume, and how very important it is to create healthy and delicious meals so that you don’t ever feel like you are missing out.
I asked Caroline if she would be comfortable sharing some of the “lesser known” details about her journey into a gluten-free lifestyle, to which she graciously agreed.
She also (graciously) agreed to give away a signed copy of The Gluten-Free Revolutionto one lucky reader.Details to follow the interview.
When did you first find out that you had Celiac disease?
I was diagnosed in late September 2010. My husband and I were living in Dayton at the time and had decided to spend a lovely fall weekend at an annual Oktoberfest celebration. We had a breakfast of stuffed homemade crepes at our friends’ nearby home and then made our way up the hill to enjoy music, local vendors and, of course, beer. Within the hour I was doubled over in pain.
This wasn’t the first time I was plagued by a host of digestive issues after eating and/or drinking. In fact, now that I know and understand the symptoms of celiac disease (or a gluten intolerance) I can see red flags dating back as far as my childhood.
That day, however, was the last straw. For much of my 20s, I had been to doctor after doctor trying to figure out what was wrong with me and received little to no answers. My white blood cell count was out of control, my immune system weak and the digestive pain was persistent. I was always tired and I had migraines that would last for sometimes 5-6 days at a time. But despite having been tested for every autoimmune condition under the sun –– lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, diabetes and more –– it wasn’t until that fall in 2010 that my answer finally came: I had celiac disease.
What was life like prior to your diagnosis?
My symptoms of a problem with gluten really came to a head during my early 20s, right around the time I first started dating my now-husband. I always tease him and say, “Why did you still like me?!” because so many of our dinners ended with me on the couch, nauseous and in pain.
Like so many people who have celiac disease or a gluten intolerance, I suffered from digestive upset, migraines, lack of energy, persistent illness, joint pain, foggy brain and more. I spent more time in the bathroom than I would ever care to recount (nor would you care to hear about).
What changed for you once you cut gluten from your diet?
As so many of us know, our digestive system can take years to truly heal after removing gluten from the diet. However, within two weeks I started to notice that my migraines had significantly decreased and I had much more energy. I wasn’t waking up in the morning with nearly as much joint pain and I was finally beginning to eat a meal and not run to the bathroom immediately after I had finished.
Tell us about your new book, The Gluten-Free Revolution.
The Gluten-Free Revolution susses out the difference between gluten-free food and healthy gluten-freefood. The growing awareness of gluten-free diets has been largely beneficial to those of us who suffer from celiac disease or gluten sensitivity, but it has also caused large manufacturers to latch onto the fad-like nature of the “gluten-free” label. It’s also resulted in a lot of misconception about what a gluten-free lifestyle looks like. Packaged snacks and overly processed foods are always unhealthy –– gluten-free or not.
The Gluten-Free Revolution brings readers back to basics and shows people that a gluten-free diet looks like any healthy diet minus the inclusion of very specific ingredients (wheat, barley, rye and contaminated oats). I don’t subscribe to an all-or-nothing lifestyle (with the exception of always eating gluten-free because of having celiac disease), so the book also relies on my philosophy that you can have your green smoothie and gluten-free brownie too –– and I wholeheartedly believe that.
I chose to include fitness in the book because I think that so often we focus on our gluten-free lifestyle as the defining characteristic of this big, beautiful life we lead. And I don’t completely blame us for that –– being gluten-free has had a huge impact on my life and has clearly shaped my dietary choices. But this gluten-free life of mine involves so much more than the food I consume on a daily basis! And fitness, for example, is a large aspect of the healthy life I choose to lead.
I want people to see that shaping their best gluten-free lives involves the whole picture: healthy foods, fitness, meaningful relationships, discovering a level of serenity, and so on. All of those things won’t always be in check –– and that’s OK. But it’s important that when we are seeking health, we address each aspect of our lives and not just the food we eat. Otherwise, we set ourselves up for feelings of disappointment –– gluten-free or not.
What has been the most impactful part of the journey for you?
Meeting other people is hands down my favorite part of this experience. Even though I have been traveling this path for a bit now, I am consistently inspired by the people I meet along the way. I love hearing their stories of how they discovered a gluten-free lifestyle and learning more about what is important to them as the journey forward. It helps me in the kitchen and it fuels my want to continue sharing information with readers.
What’s on tap for you next? I am passionate about working with the pre-college/young adult crowd and they are definitely on my radar in terms of how I am shaping my future projects.
Famous last words—share your favorite inspirational quote, thought, image, or idea.
It’s cheeky, but couldn’t be a truer way to live your life. I remind myself of this Cheryl Strayed quote on a daily basis: “The best thing you can possibly do with this life is to tackle the motherfucking shit out of it.
You can do any or all of the following to enter. The more you do, the more chances you have to win. Capiche?
Comment on the blog tell me why you want your very own copy.
Tweet the following (click here to tweet):
Hey @emilylevenson and @SincerelyCSK, I want my green smoothie and gluten-free brownie too! » http://bit.ly/1mPn2Yd
Post about it on Facebook, and then link back in the comments.
Instagram it! Make sure to tag me (@emilylevenson) so I see it!
Blog about the giveaway and/or what gluten-free living means to you, and then link back in the comments.
Giveaway officially ends on March 13th at midnight (ET). Winner announced on March 14th.
Get your own copy.
And if you don’t feel like jumping through the aforementioned hoops OR want to get a copy for all of your friends (which I highly encourage you to do), you can purchase The Gluten-Free Revolution here.