I'm a Christian and a Feminist: Come At Me, Bro.

As with any good discussion, we must agree on terms:

What is a Christian?

A follower of Jesus of Nazareth; a believer in his teachings, and a member of his church on earth. 

What is a feminist?

A person who supports women's rights on the basis of the equality of the sexes.

What does a feminist believe?

Women should be equal to men, and if they are not, action should be taken to promote equality.

What is equality?

The state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities.

Are we on the same page? Oh, goody. If you agree with the above, then you are a Christian and a feminist as well. If you do not think Christianity is compatible with feminism, then this is my ladysplainin' to why it's important (even if you don't identify with as a feminist, which is cool, yo).

**

To start, let's start with a brief discussion of patriarchy, defined as a group organized by men as leaders; e.g. a lineage with the father or eldest male being the head of the family.

This is a neutral term. I do not have an overall issue with patriarchy: I believe in Apostolic succession, men as priests, and hey! I took my husband's last name.

There are so many issues I want to cover, but I need to stay concise.

I have an issue with patriarchy presented as anti-feminist. Feminists are not fire-breathing dragons which chivalrous knights need to slay to protect their womenfolk. Nay! Feminists are not a one size fits all group. Their common link is an active desire for the socio-political and economic equality of women and men. This noble cause does not mean all feminists are great people; but every organization needs a few a-holes for humility purposes.

Patriarch who was pro-women? Jesus. If you're a Christian, He's the guy (God) you want to listen to on this:

"Jesus, the founder of the faith, did indeed live in a male-dominated society, but he was radical in how he rebelled against the cultural values of his age. His treatment of women pushed far beyond his society’s boundaries to love and honor women in ways never before seen. The gospels tell of his extraordinary conduct towards women, which takes on a radical nature when considered in the context of the oppressive environment for women in the Ancient Middle East. By looking at Jesus’ actions through the proper lens, I want to demonstrate that Christianity was instituted with a profoundly pro-women attitude" (CJ Curtis, "Jesus and Women: Rebelling against Misogyny", The Augustine Collective).

**

Next: we don't need feminism.

This is probably the most debatable amongst people who see more equality on a regular basis. For me, women got the right to vote less than 100 years ago. As much as we pride ourselves as progressive people, humans actually need at least 100 years for real change to occur organically - even with legislation supporting it.

My big (anecdotal) sticking point for why we need feminism is the blatant misogyny (defined as "dislike of, contempt for, or ingrained prejudice against women") which occurs against certain types of women. For example, feminists themselves. We can't accept that they have different ideas, so we call them fat, man-hating cows because that is a scientifically proven way to change a person's mind. And what about pro-life ladies? You mean, anti-abortion, anti-women nazis? Yep. We need to change the attitude and conversation there too.

Feminists have room for improvement too. And if you want to have a conversation, you need to show that you're genuinely interested in the person, not just making a point.

I am a conservative, and it greatly me that feminism is such a derisive idea - how else can we call for the preservation of a culture without the strength of women?!?

**

The elephant in the room/ why people say Christians cannot be feminists: BUT FEMINISTS SUPPORT/ GET ABORTIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay. Yes. And no. But yes. As a Christian, I am against abortions. As a feminist, I am against abortions. I am for preserving and protecting life at every stage - especially little women! Check out the female birth rates in China and India. Our tithing as the Baldwin family is mostly split between the church, the woman's shelter near our parish, and the homeless shelter down the street from the hospital.

Still. As a woman who has been pregnant three times... I get it. I do not agree with it, but I understand why women want other women to have access to abortions. I had three really hard pregnancies, even with all the medicine and support readily available to me. I know women deserve better. I want babies to go to loving homes. Will sees people who should not be parents have a lot of kids and the poverty cycles continue. It is truly heartbreaking. We need more empathy in the public discussion on this.

(And I'mma pause you right there if you start to move toward the comment box to mansplain or momsplain the gift of children to me. I know the beauty, and I know the sorrow, connected with my little human beings in my care. Will and I are dedicated to our children, and we're currently facing a reality that another child right now might emotionally break me because of my PPD. Unfortunately, not all women have amazing and supportive husbands like my own.)

So! Instead of viewing these women as selfish, start viewing these women as scared human beings; start seeing that these women need support and love; start acting like you give a damn about the woman in question; and most importantly, stop blaming the woman for getting pregnant. A woman is fertile about 6-8 days/month and a man is fertile every single day. Mhm.

**

Abortion is wrong. Period. The pro-life movement tries to show that, but as I mentioned before, every movement has the a-holes which ruin the message for others. This is another reason why is it SO important for we, as Christian women and men, to stand up as feminists. We must be seen as allies, not enemies.

Feminists do not all agree. And that is okay. That is bi-partisanship. That is community. As my college friend Hannah commented on this issue,

"I'll refer you to a quote I love from Sarah Bessey's Jesus Feminist:
"As long as I know how important maternal health is to Haiti’s future, and as long as I know that women are being abused and raped, as long as I know girls are being denied life itself through selective abortion, abandonment, and abuse, as long as brave little girls in Afghanistan are attacked with acid for the crime of going to school, and until being a Christian is synonymous with doing something about these things, you can also call me a feminist.”
Because while it should be always synonymous, too often people twist Christianity to support agendas of abuse, neglect, and cruelty."

So, please. Enough with telling women that they should smile and they should radiate rainbows and never fart and look pretty and stop talking and sit down and always ask, Please, sir? Can I have another? Please. Just stop telling us what we can or cannot be. If you, dear reader, value equality, then you are not threatened by strong women. You can handle room for improvement. You encourage women in their pursuits and do not say, Thank God you are not like other women! Oh! NO. To be a woman is a far better experience than the way we dress or act or speak. The beauty of womanhood is in our sisterhood - our feminine genius, our creativity, our passion, our tribal protection of our own, our ambitions and our grit to right wrongs.

Our femininity does not detract from another's masculinity. We are not here to challenge. We are here to be ourselves and preserve ourselves. We are not here to ask permission to exist and have wants, needs and desires, or to serve. Feminism says, We can have all of these things. We can choose. We can choose to be a wife, we can choose to be a mother, we can choose to work, we can choose to travel, and our worth is not dictated by our actions or looks. We are DAUGHTERS of the Lord, and we laugh and dance because it pleases Him for us to be fully alive.

**

My "rules" for this series are short (especially before commenting): this topic is personal and I am currently living in it. This is not an abstract for a dissertation. I do not have 20/20 hindsight yet. I don't need any medical advice, as I keep in close communication with my own PA + Dr., as well as being married to one. My husband and I practice many different types of coping mechanisms as well, which I will write about too. My situation is 100 percent unique and I am writing only about myself. These posts are directed at no one, and still, I am opening myself up to share my experiences. If I can help one person, it will be worth it. Please respect this adult conversation at face value.

**

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

#write31days: PostPartum Depression and Romance

This past weekend, Will and I had just a really hard time. I was struggling, and he was struggling with my struggles.

And this is where we should be honest about why most of us get married: we want to be with the person who is going to put up with our shit every single day.

Marriage isn't easy, people coo. I hated hearing that, especially when I was dating Will - even though I knew it was true. So I planned and we talked and we came to the same conclusions, and thus, engagement was natural. Marriage followed. Babies happened, and so did unhappiness. The growing pains of marriage are natural, and those who wish to ignore the root causes are apt to be unhappy that they will never be resolved until you take a shovel and dig them out. Claw if you must, but the longer you let ills grow, the harder it is to eradicate the problem.

I've seen it in too many marriages, and I tried to avoid it in my own. But one cannot avoid human nature. Humility is often the antidote.

So, this past weekend, we talked about my struggles, his struggles, our struggles. He was gone for most of the past week, and that's always a hard adjustment for us both- we work better together, and when we're separated, neither is the best version of ourselves. Add in my postpartum depression, and it's a mountain we're both climbing together.

And after two hard days, we had a beautiful Sunday together. In our Catholic marriage vows, we pledged, "I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

This is what is hard. How do you honor each other? Not making side comments. Gossiping about your spouse. Being direct. I wanted flowers from Will. I was feeling more like the maid than the wife. So, what did I do? I asked for them.

Will took the girls to Target and Wegmans, did some shopping for me, and bought me tulips. Win-win situation. I told him, and he followed through.

It's too easy to blame your spouse. I tried to last week. He bounced back what he had done. Grumble grumble. FINE BUT...

We talked about frustrations. He hates the way I do the laundry. This is no secret. In fact, this is probably what we "fight" about the most. Oh, if that's the worst you fight about, then you're fine, some people sigh. But it's how a person fights - it's not the topic. If you are constantly right and your spouse is constantly wrong, then you are wrong too. If you belittle your spouse and get passive aggressive and dismissive, you are part of the problem too - even if you are right or justified on principle.

If you want real romance in your marriage, you have to handle tough situations together, as a team. There are no winners and losers in marriage. There cannot be a right and wrong for a marriage of true minds. We must sanctify each other. We must hold each other accountable.

Romance is the intimacy of allowing your spouse be who they are. It's saying "I'm sorry"-- and he's sorry too, and you two hug. Will's biggest romantic gesture is the absolute patience and kindness he shows me when I am struggling through the day.

And surprise tulips.

**

My "rules" for this series are short (especially before commenting): this topic is personal and I am currently living in it. This is not an abstract for a dissertation. I do not have 20/20 hindsight yet. I don't need any medical advice, as I keep in close communication with my own PA + Dr., as well as being married to one. My husband and I practice many different types of coping mechanisms as well, which I will write about too. My situation is 100 percent unique and I am writing only about myself. These posts are directed at no one, and still, I am opening myself up to share my experiences. If I can help one person, it will be worth it. Please respect this adult conversation at face value.

**

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

#write31days: Are You Depressed Because You Have Three Kids Under Three?

This is the big question. I feel this is often an underlined in conversations, if not specifically mentioned.

My opinion is NOPE.

Three under three means I have less time for socializing, need to organize more and maybe definitely affects how scatter-brained I am.

But these kids actually keep me sane because I love them so so so much. Maybe that is not the way for everyone, but it is for me. If anything, I am more contemptuous of anyone else who discusses my kids or my parenting in ways my brain perceives as vaguely condescending.

(Perceives, of course, is the key word.)

It's the most favorite phrase I hear: "You have your hands full!"

I usually reply that, I have one hand free (chuckle, I'm so clever), or, I'm baby wearing!, or, UP YOURS. (Sort of kidding on the last one.)

A better reply: Hands full, heart full! 

If you can't believe that you're seeing a person who has one to multiple children, here's what you can say:

1. She/ He/ They're so beautiful!
2. You are a lucky mama!
3. Just smile and say nothing. (Because you don't have to say ANYTHING, since you usually do not know the person in the slightest.) 

What then? Say nothing, yes; instead, practice acts of mercy. Few people are interested in unsolicited opinions. How are your actions going to reflect love?

My friend Maria just sent me a couple of weeks worth of dinner. Praise the LORD. I'll only have to worry about the kids, which is easy enough. I am still in awe at her thoughtfulness. I've had a few friends send me cards to say Hi, I love you. That's it. That's what I need - support and love.

We Catholics have a moral obligation to participate in the Corporal Works of Mercy and the Spiritual Works of Mercy. I know for me, I am especially practicing "bearing wrongs patiently" these days... I am often impatient. It stings me to recognize how impatient I can be, but the self-awareness which comes from my healing is a blessing indeed.

Many cases of depression swirl around the idea that the mother is not enough; and in some ways, this thought is right - no one person can *do* enough. But each person has the intrinsic value and dignity of *being enough*. We all must show through our actions and words that this is the case, and try to undermine the false demons.

Favorite things to mail new mothers:
1. Anything  aden+anais (e.g. soft bibs, blankets)
2. Starbucks gift card
3. Any type of gift card involved in expedient purchases
4. wipes + dipes
5. a little luxuries box - this is much more individualized, but: a new water bottle, nail polish, easy breakfast options, a good pair of socks, flavored sparkling water, a favorite magazine, a Netflix gift card (or Hulu!), a box of tea/ bag of coffee... really, anything you feel a mother would enjoy. {I'll write more on creative gift ideas soon. This is a favorite activity of mine!}

The same goes for the depressed mother. I like to send belated gifts because once the routine has set in, it's nice to receive something to know I remember that they have a baby at home and I am thinking of them. I tend to send mother-centric gifts, because she needs to know that people care, even when she feels alone and overwhelmed. Babies are need love, feedings and changings, and the emotional energy is going 24/7.

When in doubt, if money is tight, just send a card.

It really is the little things.


**

My "rules" for this series are short (especially before commenting): this topic is personal and I am currently living in it. This is not an abstract for a dissertation. I do not have 20/20 hindsight yet. I don't need any medical advice, as I keep in close communication with my own PA + Dr., as well as being married to one. My husband and I practice many different types of coping mechanisms as well, which I will write about too. My situation is 100 percent unique and I am writing only about myself. These posts are directed at no one, and still, I am opening myself up to share my experiences. If I can help one person, it will be worth it. Please respect this adult conversation at face value.

**

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

#write31days: PostPartum Depression and Eating

One of the most important things a lady can do while depressed is to watch the kind of food consumed by the body. I have the tendency to eat a lot of sugar. It's not every meal - it's just the constant snacking, and mindless eating - especially when I am feeding the toddlers, but not myself.

My new sport is meal planning. I spend time deciding what kinds of food I want for the week, and I try to balance all the food groups.

• In the morning I need coffee and protein (in some capacity, does not have to be meat). I try to add in fruit every day as well.
• For lunch, I need a non-sandwich which gets me through class + raw fruits and vegetables. I am trying out salad bags - I literally load spinach salad, walnuts, dried cranberries, feta cheese and anything that isn't wet into a sandwich bag. Wa-la! At lunch time, it's ready to eat. 
• For snacks, I need something un-heavy and hopefully resembling a vegetable. I like plain greek yogurt with honey and walnuts too, or smoothies with spinach leaves.
• For dinner, I want a meal which appeals to my husband and two toddlers... this is my greatest challenge. Possibly deserving of another post...
• For dessert, anything that can pretend to be healthy.

Among the many different ways that I am learning how to be the best version of myself (even when it is trying) is to watch my diet. I am definitely affected by sugar, and though I will not cut it from my diet wholly (hello, coffee creamer, you old minx) ever-ever, I think that it is important to make sure I am not filling up on gummy bears meant for potty training, or pretending that cereal is a competent dinner plan.

My favorite cookbooks:

• The Feed Zone // written for athletes, and works for people looking for fast, healthy foods
• The New Best Recipe // if you ever wanted to know the "why" behind the recipe, this is the tell all book. I've never made a bad recipe from this book.
• Mad Hungry: Feeding Men and Boys // so many ideas, especially since my husband is all about the meat + grain. The oatmeal chocolate chip cookie recipe is my favorite, though.

My favorite websites:

• The Kitchn // my favoritest website; anything you have ever wanted to know about the kitchen and cooking basics/ secrets can be found here.
• Minimalist Baker // 10 ingredients or less? Yes please.
• Budget Bytes // affordable and creative meals.
• The Lemon Bowl // delicious and nutritious eats!

What are you eating? Can you tell how your diet affects your life?

**

My "rules" for this series are short (especially before commenting): this topic is personal and I am currently living in it. This is not an abstract for a dissertation. I do not have 20/20 hindsight yet. I don't need any medical advice, as I keep in close communication with my own PA + Dr., as well as being married to one. My husband and I practice many different types of coping mechanisms as well, which I will write about too. My situation is 100 percent unique and I am writing only about myself. These posts are directed at no one, and still, I am opening myself up to share my experiences. If I can help one person, it will be worth it. Please respect this adult conversation at face value.

**

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

#write31days: PostPartum Depression - How Did You Know? // Introduction and Rules of Engagement

Last October, I attempted #write31days but without a serious mindset... quantity really- I wanted to write more. And I did! It was great. Today, I am starting this challenge over with a more guided topic. Postpartum depression.

I discussed ideas with a few friends, and this topic came up multiple times. How do you handle PPD as a Catholic women? How do you handle it with residency? How do you handle it with multiple children? What does it feel like? What should others know about PPD? The questions went on and on...

My "rules" for this series are short: this topic is personal and I am currently living in it. This is not an abstract for a dissertation. I do not have 20/20 hindsight yet. I don't need any medical advice, as I keep in close communication with my own PA + Dr., as well as being married to one. My husband and I practice many different types of coping mechanisms as well, which I will write about too. My situation is 100 percent unique and I am writing only about myself. These posts are directed at no one, and still, I am opening myself up to share my experiences. If I can help one person, it will be worth it. Please respect this adult conversation at face value.

**

How do you know you are depressed (PPD) and it's not just the baby blues?

This is the number one question many women ask. I am on baby number three in three years. Shockingly to many, this is not the cause of my depression. My depression has to do (mainly) with external factors in my life which I do not have [much] control over. I mention this because I have bonded with my third child wonderfully, just like I did with my other two.

I mention this because many women dismiss their feelings because they do not fall into the normal realm of what depression looks like. If you are taking anything your baby does personally, that should be a warning sign. A baby is for cuddling and feeding. A baby wants love and affection, and cries because something is wrong - or nothing is wrong! All three of my children spent the first month or two of their lives crying "just because"... baby wearing, baby swinging, and being okay with crying.

My main symptoms are anger and irritability. Everything bugs me - but what sends me over the edge is the perpetual whining of my three year old. Grace repeats herself constantly, and this is normal! There is nothing wrong with this! But for me, it was nails on a chalkboard. Combine this with anxiety if the house descends into madness (thanks, Laura); if I've forgotten something I am supposed to do; if I watch time tock by, paralyzed by what I should do...

This is not a normal response to stress. This is, at the very least, a reason to talk to a medical professional. If you have a feeling something is off, your intuition is probably right. Don't ignore it.

I knew something was wrong when Grace began whining and I just had to leave the room; I wanted to punch the wall repeatedly. I called the phone nurse at my OB's office, and as I told her my symptoms, I started sobbing.

I am currently taking medicine, which I will address in another post. Medicine combined with exercise and other coping mechanisms for healthy living is key - we cannot expect medicine alone to "fix" my feelings, anymore than we should think "natural living" is enough for women to cope.

With my first two children, I would feel sad and overwhelmed and stressed from time to time... with Stephen, there were times when I wanted to leave the house. I wanted to punch the wall; I wanted to cry and yell; I wanted to curl up in a ball and ignore everyone. These are not normal response to stress. My medicine is only 20 mg, but it is enough. When I hear whining, I can respond calmly or ignore it. I can find order in the chaos and I can laugh. I am 110 percent a better mother taking medicine, and I feel much more like myself.

And this is really the most telling part of depression - I didn't feel like myself. I didn't know this version of Julie, and I didn't like it. I love my family and I wanted to enjoy these young days. This is why I sought help and now, this is why I am writing about postpartum depression and anxiety. The only thing to fear is *not* accepting help. Don't try to rationalize your feelings or dismiss them. If you need help, ask for it. This is scary, and that is okay.

Before Grace's eye surgery; when I had first started medication

**
Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

Happy Life, Messy Wife

A few nights ago, I felt upset. It's hard to distinguish, sometimes, between burn-out, postpartum depression and exasperation. Our babysitter cancelled, Will was half-awake after a night shift and dinner was not made. Laura dumped out all our shoes again. I had cleaned the whole house earlier and felt so good... Then the girls did not nap; then no relief; then no time to prep for the next day's lesson; then up too late. I was falling down and only a zillion chocolate chip cookies (which we had none) would numb the pain. But then Will said something and, as uninspired as it was, it was the kick that told me: messes come and go. You matter. Messes don't.

I'm listening to The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin on Audible. I like it so much that I sent it home and told my Dad that the family should read this together. The Apple blurb says,

Gretchen Rubin had an epiphany one rainy afternoon in the unlikeliest of places: a city bus. “The days are long, but the years are short,” she realized. “Time is passing, and I’m not focusing enough on the things that really matter.” In that moment, she decided to dedicate a year to her happiness project. 

In this lively and compelling account—now updated with new material by the author—Rubin chronicles her adventures during the twelve months she spent test-driving the wisdom of the ages, current scientific research, and lessons from popular culture about how to be happier. Among other things, she found that novelty and challenge are powerful sources of happiness; that money can help buy happiness, when spent wisely; that outer order contributes to inner calm; and that the very smallest of changes can make the biggest difference. 

The biggest part about happiness is the necessity of growth and pushing one's self outside our personal comfort zone and accept failure (and embrace the fun of failure!) as a necessary part of living. Building habits, asking for help and scale back on obligations. All of these experiences she discussed came with a head nod... yes, mm, yes. But action is harder.

I am (also/still) listening to a podcast my art history teacher recommended to me. (Pro tip: stay in touch with your favorite professors/ teachers. They will continue to enrich your life with their love, wit and wisdom!) It's called Magic Lessons by Elizabeth Gilbert, and it is all about the creative life and the creative process.

I miss my creative process. I miss the ability to stay up late and write and re-write and laugh and talk and color and write letters to friends and re-write... my creative process has been replaced by a need to re-organize my house and regulate toys and re-arrange our schedule and meal plan and lesson plan and

no wonder.

no wonder I am just so tired when the evening hits that I don't finish post after post after post.

I am a creative soul, and my cup is dry.

But my heart is hopeful.

I bought acrylic paints and canvases a few months ago because I saw them on sale.

I thought, I took Studio I-III and Mixed Media in high school!

I thought, It's been too long.

I thought, I'm scared to open them.

I thought, I'm ready. 

**

In the meantime - here's to more messes.

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

In Defense of Self-Soothing

Imagine a scene of three children and a mother is reading them the charming "Big Red Barn" book before bed. It's quiet in your scene, I'm sure. Meanwhile, in my reality, Stephen is crying his face off instead of eating. Laura is helping me turn the pages and Grace is reading her own book.

A few months ago (about three, to be exact), if this would happen, my anxiety would SAIL sky high. My postpartum depression did not manifest itself in sadness, but irritability and anger. That kind of crying would send my nerves into overstimulation and I'd shut down and have to leave the room.

Will and I are focusing on my coping mechanisms: food prep, cooking, exercise, sleep, and letting chaos reign. It's okay. Even when it's not.

I remember a friend who, a few years ago, was deeply depressed; but, as a nursing student, she refused to go on medication because she knew it changed her body's chemistry. But she was miserable.

I can empathize to a certain point. Will and I talked about a timeline for me to go off my PPD medication as well, and I talked to my OB and PA about it as well. I can feel the difference. I can remain calm in the face of my son screaming even though his diaper was changed, he was fed, and he was being held. Sometimes, the baby is going to cry. Sometimes, the baby is going to self-soothe, and fall asleep via crying. Stephen just did. It seems magical now to hear his little snores. He was just *so* tired.

Haven't you ever felt like a baby? So tired you just want to scream and cry and eat ice cream and sleep at the same time? It's okay. I ate brownies for dinner tonight, and now that the kids are down, I'll go eat a second course of pork, rice and salad. Some days, ya know? Gotta eat backwards dinner. Gotta be alone and not talk to anyone and relish that.

It's been a long day, as well as the end of Will's "staycation" (he had a few days off of SICU in a row, which made this month bearable). I'm working on school prep and wondering if a calm normal exists, or if life is a giant exercise in self-soothing and juggling. I'm guessing the latter. It has never slowed down in my 28 years alive, and - if anything! - kids speed up the process. They also help you appreciate the more important things, like being together, laughing and having fun, and loving one another.

Then again, God gave us toddlers to take everyone's pride down a few notches. Toddlers don't give a damn about anything. They will ignore you and dump all their blocks out and look you in the eye while throwing their dinner on the floor. It's amazing. I am no longer crying over dinners [I spent time researching, preparing and serving] being ignored and thrown on the floor since instituting "toddler tapas" and "picnics" to the schedule.

How do you self-soothe? What makes you tick?

I hope you all are well, dear readers. I hope you take time to self-soothe, and time to re-connect. I hope you don't worry about other people's perception of you, and that you love what makes you tick.

I'm off to eat dinner, watch an episode of Elementary, and maybe fix zucchini bread since the air is cooler now. I wish you good eats and many reminders of what a treat life is, truly, for each of us.

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

Maternity Leave Musings (Or, Sorry for Not Writing More): 7 Weeks Young

Bonjour! Hola! Hello, friend. Thank you for reading. How are we (almost) through the month of June and I haven't published again? I suppose summer is my maternity leave and summer vacation. A vacation where I attend circus camp, or, learning to juggle of three kids under three years old and handle toddlers who want the blue cup, not the yellow, or whatever her sister has (currently).

Hi yourself! What have you been doing?!

Stephen was born, I turned in my students' grades, and I was balancing three different medication schedules. Lyme, thrush and postpartum anxiety. PSA: check yourself and your family for ticks, if you spend time outside.

How are you feeling?

If you would have told 18 year old me that I'd be tired by 9:45 p.m. when I was 28, I probably would have laughed. I've always been a night owl... which means now is I can be up at 4 a.m. to walk Stephen around until he falls asleep; collapse into bed; wake up with my two chicks clucking from their bedroom.

Motherhood makes me stronger. It's endurance training. It's creativity and adventure. It's the tea bag in hot water metaphor that Eleanor Roosevelt said. I'm re-learning my limits and re-organzing our schedule/ house. I'm reading books for fun! (Need more David Foster Wallace! Currently reading about Catherine the Great and listening to Tolkien on cd.) I'm getting outside and enjoying our summer schedule; starting postpartum exercise. Grace was just approved for eye surgery by our insurance (hooray! more on that later!), so that's one more thing going our way.

Which is to say, I'm feeling fine. How are you?

Okay, elephant in the room: Seriously - how do you handle three kids by yourself?!

I don't live on an island alone. I have a husband who pitches in with everything and helps keep me focused and organized. I have a cleaning company come once a month since our rental is so old and our children are so young. Friends to text. And family! My MIL came for three weeks, then my mother for two weeks, and after I was alone during a number of night shifts (shakes fist at scheduling gods), my MIL arrived for another couple days stay to pick up our former Honda CRV. It's been a revolving door, honestly.

Sure, many days, I am alone. I've taken the kids out of the house multiple times - the grocery store, therapy, and even wrangled them to two doctors' appointments last Monday. I pack my bag full of snacks/bribes, diapers+wipes, and give myself enough time to get from point A to point B.

You're not convincing me, lady. 

It's a day by day thing.

I take a deep breath, nap when I can (or mentally rest with a t.v. show while I take care of Stephen if the girls are napping) and practice the value of "me" - enough sleep, water, nourishing food, exercise (even just a little), prayer and my medication. Last night, we took a walk to the emergency department for a change of scenery and to give Will dinner; it was a win-win for both of us.

My parents came to visit us after the Youth National Rowing Championship my brother and sister were in a few weekends ago, and my dad reminded me that they got a nanny after three kids. That sounds like a dreamboat, even though I do not work full-time like my mom did (does).

 It does give a person perspective, though. I'm officially in zone-to-zone defense.

Stop the presses. I read "medication" earlier. Are you on medication because you're crazy enough to have three kids in three years?

I developed anxiety while pregnant with Stephen; there were a lot of factors, but by the time the birth came, I was feeling amazing. When Will and I were walking home from the hospital with Stephen, I remember telling him that this was the best I've ever felt after a birth, and how excited I was to jump into this new adventure. About a week later, I felt the baby blues; a week after that, I felt them getting worse. I called my PA and immediately took action (but not before crying to the Phone Nurse). I'm trying to be honest about this because these meds are going to be with me for the summer, at least - and to remove some of the stigma of going on medication. Sometimes, you need it.

And yes: having three kids under three is the craziest and most amazing experience yet. You'll have to trust me there. I don't recommend it to (or for) everyone. But I'm thriving.

What makes it so amazing?

One thing my PA told me is that a lot of women get postpartum depression/ anxiety because their partner is not supportive of them. This is not my issue, and she stressed to me how lucky I am. I can 110 percent say that I could not do this without Will, even though his hours are not super-changing and residency is still residency. Have you ever been part of a team where your side is always for you? Even when you're crying because you ordered the birth announcements and made a minor error that no one else notices unless you point it out to them?

Will and I are both very independent people, and one of the best parts of having more kids is how we've become more interdependent on each other and really embraced the family lifestyle. This is not easy with our schedule; whether it's falling asleep on the girls' floor after a shift so he can be there for the bedtime routine, or staying up late to clean the kitchen and get ready for the next day.

One of my favorite sayings its from Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring: "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." Will and I choose each other every day. It sounds romantic, and it is; it can also be hard and self-denying. Still, we see beauty in what we know and how we choose to love ourselves, each other and our family. This is amazing. The actions we do each day builds our family, our adventures, our life. Boring is a perspective.

So! Things we're doing:

• Cleaning up/out every single room in the house. We've completed 4 so far; working on the dining room (dining room/ my downstairs office/ the girls' art table) right now
• Writing/ sending birth announcements and thank you cards 
• Playing outside and taking walks to the park
• Adjusting nap schedules 
• Eating popsicles
• Napping and getting to bed earlier 
• Books on cd; tv shows from the library; podcasts during the day and night
• Starting potty training (and watching Potty Time)
• Adding more items to my Subscribe & Save (guilty pleasure/ part of our kids budgeting)
• Making a zillion lists
• G's therapies 
• Trips to the library and grocery store
• Exploring new places
• Work stuff (third year and last year of residency starts tomorrow!)
• Posting on Instagram 

Hopefully, I'll publish more too (I write all the time, but I'm trying to keep it 50-50 with my reading). But in the meantime, here's to new adventures. May you have one every day.

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter

Bed Rest for the Criminally Insane

Here she is... Miss America...

Soon after we came home from the hospital, I experienced the night all postpartum mothers dream of: crazy horrible nausea with a side of physical pain. I phoned the OB nurse the next day and was ordered on bed rest, with plenty of water, small meals and alternating Tylenol and Motrin.

At least the view is wonderful:

I also have regular visitors!

I am not a bed rest sort of person. Mine was very temporary compared to the weeks and months I know friends of mine have faced; but it certainly felt like a Lent-worthy sacrifice. It made me physically rely on others for help. This is something that drives me crazy.

It's not because I am ungrateful - quite the opposite. I do not know how I would have handled the last few weeks before, during and after Laura's birth without the help of my MIL. It is amazing having my Mom here now, till Saturday. 

I'm more about being interdependent, though - and bed rest made me dependent, like Laura.

Just a girl and her wubbanub.

For example, I had to explain how to make coffee, and how I like my coffee to be fixed -- and it made me think and contemplate how I live in a state of survival in many ways, with many opportunities for spontaneous fun as a family. No one fixes me coffee except Will; there is usually no one else around to help me besides Will. I was having to explain where things were and our weekly schedule; how Grace's sleep habits work, when and where therapy is, and with whom.

Or even, the humility of grandparents seeing Grace's old-new tricks for the first time. The amazement of how much she has progressed since they last saw her in December. The unanswerable questions of when and if she'll do this or that. I tend to brush off those questions and repeat my mantra: With God and Grace, all is possible.

Which, to bring us back around, is what I should give myself more of: the grace to heal. Permission to feel terrible and let someone take care of me.

The back pain isn't gone, and the stitches are there, and Laura sleeps all day so she can stare at me all night. And by stare, I mean make little crying noises into bigger crying noises until I acquiesce her request.

I want to cry sometimes too. I'm not sure if it's the hormones or the lack of sleep or all the grading that is waiting for me, and the power points I am currently staying up late to work on...

Dr. Optimist likes to remind me that life isn't so bad - in fact, we have a pretty great life. ((I know this, and I feel this.))

I also feel a kind of insecurity that everything is going to fall apart if I don't keep my fingers in every pie, and times like this help me gently remove those thoughts. What I am discovering in my early womanhood is that it is just as important to be honest with yourself and others when things are not okay: when you need help, when you're struggling, and when you must be dependent on others to help carry the load.

Never before has the character of Simon of Cyrene been more important to me: even Jesus had help carrying his cross. Just as Jesus was born a sweet baby, totally dependent on his parents, so we must turn to our own families and God the Father. Just as Jesus carried his cross and honestly asked his disciples, Can you drink from my cup? So we, too, must learn that love takes the form of work and giving and getting. Limitations are not weakness - they are an opportunity to invite more people to the opportunity to love one another more; to support one another in need.

And thus, a new leaf is turned, and I begin my last week of maternity leave - with me on partial bed rest, my mom here till Saturday, husband on night shift, and my girls around me.

I need more than I can voice, and so I echo St. Augustine's confession: "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."

Follow me: Bloglovin // Facebook // Google+ // Instagram // Twitter