Today's Thoughts: It's About to Get Real Y'all...

So I don't write these posts looking for pity. I write them simply as a way of sharing my story, and hoping that someone else can connect with what I have to say. I actually (in real life) don't take compliments or praise well, because I really just like putting stuff out there and seeing how it's received while being able to remain "behind the scenes".... Perhaps that's why I became a director, and not an actor? ;) 

I like to share. I over share if given the opportunity. And lucky for me, blogging is just that platform to serve as a way for me to overshare and stay hidden. Call me a coward, but I really like to think that it's also a way to help people. And I am not doing this anonymously, so those who know me, can talk to me about it in person if they chose to do so! 

Something that I have come to learn about myself, is that my background in theatre has proven to be a burden on my ability to really tell it like it is. I am pretty darn good at hiding behind a facade, by deterring difficult discussions, and by avoiding issues, simply by maintaining a persona that I feel is appropriate based on certain situations. Basically, if I pretend to be happy, and people think that I am happy, then I must be happy. Logical, right? 

Except for the most important part: it's not. 

So here is where I am going with this... Post-partum Depression. It is real. It is ugly. And it effects you when you least expect it. You never see it coming, until you find yourself screaming in the middle of your living room for no apparent reason. Such has been my life for the past 2-3 months. 

After P was born, I was beyond happy and full of love. I did not experience the immediate "baby blues". I was tired, yes, but rightfully so as I was hardly sleeping. But I was truly happy. It wasn't until she was about 3 months old when I started to notice a major change in my demeanor. Suddenly, I had no desire to do anything at all during the day. I had no desire to leave my house, to take care of myself, let alone a baby, 3 animals, and a household. It took every ounce of motivation that I could muster just to get out of bed in the morning. I figured that the past 3 months of motherhood had just finally caught up with me and I was letting exhaustion finally set in. Then I started getting angry. More angry than I have physically ever been in my life. At the tiniest and most ridiculous things. The dogs would sit in front of me and I would start screaming at them like they had just torn apart all of our furniture. It was starting to scare me. I didn't know this person. 

One day, it was only about 10:30 AM, so Matt had only been gone to work for a few hours. I was feeling myself get to this scary angry place, while I was holding Parker. I put her down, walked into the other room, and called Matt. Cue the down pouring of guilty tears... He knew it was time for me to find help. He couldn't help me, even though he wanted to. So I called my doctor. At my 6-week post-partum appointment, you have to take a silly questionnaire about PPD. I thought nothing of it, but my doctor said that I scored in the high range, and to keep an eye on things. If I felt like I needed to call her, I should. So I did. You never really understand depression, or any mental/emotional disorder, until you are actually living it. I had no clue what was going on with me. When we went to see her, she wanted to put me on meds right away. 

Depression runs in my family. I had seen my mother struggle through several different depression medications trying to find one that would work for her. The struggle was just that: a STRUGGLE. It was not something I was willing to put myself through in my quest to be myself again. So I asked her if I could talk to someone before trying medication. She agreed, only if I came back to her in 3 weeks, and had actually followed through on that promise. 

Enter stage left: The Looking Glass Counseling Services. Kind of ironically (and awesomely) named considering my love and obsession with Alice in Wonderland. I've been going for several weeks now, and it has helped. I am definitely not better yet, but it's helping. She gave me a journal in my first session to start writing in as often or as little as needed. At first, I wrote in it everyday. Sometimes several times a day. But as time has gone by, I wrote less and less. Now, it's at the bottom of a stack of books and I haven't gotten to it in a while. 

Then I thought, wait a minute - I have a blog! That is a journal. Just and electronic and public one... But a journal, no less. So here we are. 

I have good days, and I have bad days. The most frustrating part of it, is that I recognize when I am having bad days, but feel helpless to do anything about it. There are a million different ways that I could help myself, but if you've suffered from depression, then you know, you generally have no desire to help yourself. Like most difficult goals, it takes encouragement and people who love you holding you accountable. The approach is key... Because treat it like it is something I can control: and I will explode with a rage that an Italian mother cannot equal. Which is another one of the more difficult things about this disease... I can't control it. I don't wake up and think to myself, "I will not let this get the best of me today!" And it works. If that were the case, every day would be a fabulous day. 

I make lists. I write down my goals. I try to get out of the house as much as I can. I try to exercise, even if its just a walk around the block. I know everything to do for myself to "get better", but some days I just can't. And that is a really difficult concept for me to accept... It's the most difficult concept for most people to accept. 

So I have made a decision. I am going to use my blog as a method of accountability. I am going to try to post every day. My successes, and my failures... continue posting my thoughts, but find ways to show myself that I am getting better. That there is a light at the end of this tunnel. And more so, prove to myself that I can get through this unmedicated. I am my worst critic, and in general, pretty pessimistic (even without the PPD!) ... So, I am making this publicly known. I will be sharing my struggle. Maybe I can even inspire someone along the way :) 

Parker has been sick the past few days. Translation: it's not been a good week. When you already feel out of control, having a sick baby will truly put that to the test. I was lucky to sneak in a shower yesterday; that's what kind of week we're having! But I am trying to look forward. I am trying to see that tomorrow is a new day, even if my current day still has 12 hours left and feels pretty sucky. To quote my favorite little curly red-headed orphan, "Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I'll love ya, tomorrow! You're only a day away!"

 .... Nothing like a fictional orphan to put things in perspective, right? ;)

My sweet & pathetic sick little puppy :(

Today's Thoughts: Big Changes!

So I've been a "SAHM" for 5-months now... I am so extremely happy that I have had this time home with my sweet baby girl, but I have felt like I need to be doing something more. I'm not used to having so much extra time in my day, as I am a micro-manager and was pretty successful at making sure that every single minute was planned and busy. And while this time home has been good for both me and Parker, I knew that it would not last long.

I also knew that going back to work 60+ hours a week (which when I break it down, really is what I was committing to my former career), was not an option for me either. I don't want to put myself in a position where I am letting myself become overwhelmed with work and missing out on time with my family. I know first-hand that SO MUCH changes with this little human in such a short amount of time, and I still do not want to miss out on any of it. But I need something. Something to serve as a creative and professional outlet for me, but something that allows a bit more flexibility with my schedule. The immediate first instinct is that I NEED TO BE MY OWN BOSS! I'm fairly entrepreneurial in spirit, but have struggled to find my niche... I came up with a thousand different ideas, none of them intrigued me enough to follow through. My passion, when it comes down to it, is theatre. And I'm not quite ready to let that go.

My final year of college, I was introduced to a man from London who spoke with us about a theatre that he worked at, The Lyric. He was responsible for a program that reached out to "at-risk" youth, and used theatre as a form of therapy; to inspire them to see their potential, to help them find a place, find motivation, and realize that there is more to life. I fell in love. I've always been drawn to the tough students. The ones that no one else wants to deal with. Maybe that's why I taught middle school for 5 years... ;) But I used this theatre as a basis for a final project in one of my classes. I wanted to create a similar program, and ultimately create my own theatre, that would work along side school districts, alternative centers, juvenile detention centers, and reach out to these students. I was pumped. And then I got a job teaching in a great school district, and that dream kind of became a thing of the past.

Until recently that is ... :)

I realize that first, there is so much more that I need to learn. So here are my new goals, and I have never been so excited. I feel inspired again. Something I have not felt since graduating from UT. I feel like I am on the right path, and that this is the reason I quit my job when I did... I needed to move on, and move forward. I needed to realize that this new dream is what I am supposed to do. I. CAN'T. WAIT.

New Goals:

1. Find a job. But not just a frivolous job. Find a job that will benefit my ultimate goal. I am going to be looking to work for a theatre company, an event center, etc. to be in the middle of it and learn the business side of how things run. I am hoping to find something that is either part-time or at least less hours than I was putting in before P came along.
2. Take the GRE. I am going to be studying (something I haven't done in 5 years!) for the next few months and then take the graduate school entrance exam. I need this for the program I am applying for.
3. GRADUATE SCHOOL... This is where it gets really fun. And what I am PUMPED about! I have found a program and been in contact with advisors that has gotten me excited beyond words. The program is for Educational Psychology with a concentration in Human Development and Family Studies. What's the best part: it is a doctoral program, which will allow me to get my masters along the way. So in a matter of 3-4 years, you may start calling me Dr. Jenna Truitt. You can start now if you'd like the practice! 
4. MY THEATRE! I have not yet decided if I want to open my own theatre, or if I just want to develop a program that can "travel" to serve many different communities and students, but this is where it's all leading to.

The graduate program is necessary for me to focus on the needs of these students. I need to understand more from the psychological side to "tap in" and really make my program work. Psychology was the only other subject area that interested me enough in school to make me question my theatre degree, so I figure putting the two worlds together is the best choice!

I couldn't wait to share, because I am giddy with school yard glee. I have big dreams, and I am so happy that I get to make them come true. It's going to be a long road, lots of work, and made more challenging while now adding my baby girl into the mix, but it is something I want to do for me, for her, and for my family. I can have it all, and I am going to do whatever it takes to get there! Woo! 

Prayers are welcome :)

Today's Thoughts: The SAHM Identity Crisis

Some women are born to be Stay-at-Home-Mom's (or "SAHM's" for the sake of not having to write that out every time I use that phrase in this post...). Which is 100% FABULOUS. They always knew that once they had kids, staying home would be the best job in the world, and they rock at it. They are the mom's that make being a SAHM look easy. My entire life, I always thought that's how I would be. That once I had kids, I would want to be a SAHM, and I would relish in the new lifestyle.

Well..... after almost 5 months of being a SAHM, I can tell you now with close to 99% certainty: I was fooled! In all fairness, I would not change this experience for the world. I am so happy and feel extremely blessed that I've had the opportunity to spend so much time at home with my baby girl. So much has changed in 5 short months, and I am extremely happy that I have not missed out on these special moments. I will never get it back; I would not change it for the world. But... I am a better me when I am busy. The busy that having a job requires. Having a baby is BUSY. It is stressful, it is exhausting, and it's constant. But it is a completely different kind of busy. It is a busy that I really have zero control over. Sure, every single day is different and there is very little time spent sitting at a desk (two things I always swore I would find in a career) - but when this little tiny person is the driving force in my daily plan, and I have very little control over that plan ... I start to crumble.

I was told recently that my personality is great, it's one to be envied, but it is also my downfall. In the past, I have used my being busy and micromanaging every single minute of my day to avoid dealing with "issues" ... blah, blah, blah. Psycho-babble, but also very true. But I like to think that I just function better when I am busy. When it's a busy that I have control over. When I have a task, I work towards achieving that task, and I can see the end result. I need that affirmation to feel like a success. As a Mom - you don't get that. You have to be someone who can humble them self enough to know that your affirmation is mostly going to be intrinsic. Very little does one walk into your house and say something like, "Oh my gosh I cannot believe how clean your house is! And how well mannered your dogs are, and your baby is so kind and sweet, and you have done all of the dishes, and you have baked cookies and prepared a full meal for a family of 8, and you have fresh groceries in the fridge, and everyone is clean, fed, happy, and you did this all in one day? Wow!"

.......... sometimes I need to hear that to feel like what I've done with my day is of worth. But it just isn't the case. And I'm not sure that I'm cut out for it!

THE SAHM IDENTITY CRISIS

I've come to learn that when you chose to be a SAHM, for the very first time, after a life of identifying your self by your career, your social life, and your "things", it becomes INCREDIBLY difficult to answer the question, "Who are you?" 

I asked myself that question one day last week. Every word I used to describe myself began with "Well, I was..." or "Well, I used to..." but I had a very tough time finding the words to identify who I am NOW. Who I am after having a baby, and making the decision to stay at home with her for her first year of life. Who does that make me? It makes me Parker's mom. It makes me Matt's wife. It makes me Bear and Domino and Duck's caretaker. But all of that is based on what I do for other people... Who am I really? 

Then I kept going and got real deep.... When I was working 60+ hours a week, every single activity I participated in was for the benefit of someone else. Other than my weekend social outings, which were clearly for me to de-stress from the activities at work. But I was still doing things for others. I was doing it for my students, for their parents, to please the administration... Difference: I was able to visually witness my success. I saw the growth of my program, I saw the success of my productions, I won awards, I received accolades from coworkers, I was told on a daily basis how what I was doing was so great and so important. 

Now, I tell myself that every time I feel like I am going to throw a lamp into a wall... But when it's 10:30 AM and I am covered in spit up, and still in my PJ's, and on my fifth cup of coffee, it's REALLY not very easy to say "You're important!"

But what is more important that being a parent? After having been a teacher for many years, you see a huge behavioral difference in your students who have parents that make it a priority to participate in their children's lives, versus those who do not. Yes there is always an exception to this, but the majority of behavior issues in kids (from my experience) starts at home. I know that I am helping Parker in the long run by making her a priority in my life, and by making her life my priority. 

DESPITE KNOWING ALL OF THIS...

I still don't feel like I am the kind of person who can be a SAHM for much longer. I yearn to be back in a position where I am teaching, directing, and witnessing my accomplishments. The most useful thing that I've been able to take from my time at home (professionally speaking, that is), is that I have had TONS of time to think about what I want out of my career. I want the best of both worlds: I want to be involved in my career to a point that I feel content in my professional life, but I want to make sure that I am active and available for my family. I want to do both. Is there such a thing? Well, people do it all the time, so clearly there is.

I feel so lucky every day for the people who are in my life that let me "talk it out" every time I am needing a little kick in the pants to find my motivation... I have made a big decision about what I want to do, and now's the time to make it happen! What better time than now? :) 

MORAL OF THE BLOG POST IS.... I give a HUGE KUDOS to those who can be a SAHM and find every bit of affirmation that you need in doing so. I wish that I could find that same happiness in this, the most difficult job I've ever had in my life. You are rockstars, and you are wonderful. But, I will be finding ways to balance my need to work and my need to be a Mom. 

No excuses, play like a champion. 

Today's Thoughts: A Tribute to Parker Lu

Today is January 13, 2014. One year ago today, Matt and I had now known for 10 days that we were pregnant. We found out at home on January 3, 2013, and had it confirmed by my doctor on January 6, 2013. We had shared the information with our immediate family, and we were probably still letting it all sink in. We had been engaged for 7 months, and living together for 6 months. We had been struggling through many obstacles in planning our wedding, which was at this point set for August 3, 2013. Never in a million years did we imagine that during our engagement we'd become pregnant, and then scrambling to plan a wedding in 3 months. We couldn't have imagined that we'd be selling my beloved "Jenna Jetta" so that we could both have more "family friendly" cars, we didn't think we'd so quickly be looking for a house to purchase... However, all of these events took place between the months of January and May of 2013. Then we had 3 more months to get our house put together, enjoy a couple of baby showers, prepare a nursery, and somewhere in there remember that we were still newlyweds and quickly planning our future as parents... PARENTS?! 2013 was a whirlwind of life events. Apparently someone thought that we could handle every major life decision a newly married couple usually makes in the first few years of marriage - all within an 8 month period of time!

We did. I now look back and could not imagine my life without Parker. I could not imagine our life without the struggle, the uncomfortable conversations, the tough decisions... because it all led us to where we are now. Almost a year of marriage under our belts (ahh!), in a home that we love, in career transitions, and the extremely proud parents of our amazing, adorable, intelligent, and precious little bundle, Parker Lucille.

Feeling a bit nostalgic this AM, I decided to recount the events of Parker's birth day, and how Matt and I were given the blessing of experiencing the most intense and unconditional love that either of us have ever known.

August 26, 2013.... Early on in my pregnancy, I was told that my due date was August 23. Later on they changed my due date to August 29. For some reason, I never felt like August 29 was correct. I literally spent weeks going over "the math" of it all, to declare that August 23 was really my due date, despite what the doctors were now claiming... I am kind of stubborn that way. So come August 26, I had completely lost all hope because Parker had yet to make her debut. I was fairly positive that I was never going to have her, and that she was just going to hang out in my uterus for the rest of her life. That's the kind of crazy I was at the point in time.

A few days prior, I had started to feel some cramping. Nothing serious, but nothing that I had felt in the past 9 months. The morning of the 26th, something was different. Matt even called in that day and worked from home, because he could tell that something was different. Everything I had read said that labor contractions felt different for everyone, so I had no clue if this was it or not. It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable. And it wasn't happening too often, but often enough to make us think that these weren't just the Braxton-Hicks practice contractions that we'd read about and heard about and researched about for the past several months.

The cramping continued throughout the day. Around lunch time, it started getting a little more intense and frequent. But still, nothing that made me think that I was going into labor immediately. I continued pacing around the house (end of August in Texas means that it was about a million degrees outside, and walking outside in the heat of the day was NOT an option for this enormous preggo whale).

I am a VERY impatient person. So by late afternoon, we'd already been on the phone with my doctors office, and they told us that we didn't need to even think of heading towards the hospital until my contractions were much closer together. Our hospital was a 40-minute drive away. So I was panicking, and true to form, dismissing any information given by the doctors. Because obviously, I knew best. Lucky for me, my much more rational and level-headed husband knows how to handle my personality in situations of high stress, and he kept me relatively calm!

Around 5 PM I was getting super anxious. I needed to move. I needed to get out of the house. So we went to the mall to walk. We walked the mall for about an hour. We went to LensCrafters, spent a while trying on glasses, and both purchased new frames - crazy idea. But we both desperately needed new glasses, so why not! As we were finishing up at LensCrafters, I had to take a moment to sit down. I probably freaked out the poor lady working there, thinking I was going into labor inside of the store. I didn't... but my contractions were telling me that it was getting scary close to GO TIME.

We paid very quickly, and walked our happy butts down to the opposite end of the mall where we were parked. The whole car ride home, my contractions got more intense, and were about 12 minutes apart at that point. We got home, double checked our hospital bags (which I'd had packed for the past month... I was ready a long time ago), and called the doctor. I was bouncing on my exercise ball at home for about an hour more before we left to the hospital. BTW - the exercise ball was going to soon become my best friend. Seriously. How someone didn't think to have a woman in labor bouncing on the ball a long time ago is beyond me... That thing is how I was able to breathe through my contractions for a long while!

We left our house around 8:30 PM on the 26th. August 26 is my best friend Halie's birthday... she was requesting that I have a very speedy delivery so that she and Parker could share a bday. Way to go, P... ;) I called my crack support team (my mom, my best friend Halie, and my sister's boyfriend's mom, Shawna) to let them all know that we were on our way. Matt called his parents, and we made sure everyone knew that it was really happening! That was the most uncomfortable car ride OF. MY. LIFE. I hate being a passenger in a car already, because I get car sick unless I'm driving (maybe it's part of my need to be in control?), but add labor contractions on top of it and I was flat out miserable. We made it in record time, probably right around 30 minutes, and I was SO HAPPY to get out of the car. Matt dropped me off at the ER entrance, where my mom was already there and waiting, and Shawna came walking up within seconds.

Quick shout-out: I am SO LUCKY that I had Mrs. Shawna Gonzalez by my side! She had previously worked at the hospital where I was delivering, helping to open the hospital just one year earlier. She knew the nurses working there, she knew everyone in the L&D ward pretty much, and she was beyond comforting and helpful. Even if my sister and her son never get married (they've been dating for 9 years now, guys), I will be requesting her presence at the delivery of all of my future children.

Shawna had already called ahead and told them I was coming. I had checked in a few weeks prior, so I was rushed right upstairs to the delivery rooms and got all set. I was given the giant exercise ball, and bounced for about 2 1/2 hours. I had apparently progressed very quickly in a short amount of time. My contractions were MAJOR intense at this point, and the nurses knew that I FOR SURE wanted an epidural. I wanted to labor on my own as much as possible before getting the juice, but was now being warned that if I continued going as quickly as I was, and didn't get the epidural soon, that I would most likely miss my shot at the good stuff. So around 11:30 PM, I got the epidural. 

SIDE NOTE: not as bad as I had expected it to be. Obviously a giant needle in the back isn't pleasant, but no where near as scary and painful as I thought. And I never saw the needle, so I didn't have a good idea of what was being shoved into my spinal cord. Good call.

EPIDURAL'S ARE MAGICAL. About 30 minutes after the drugs, I was doing GREAT. No pain, despite the worsening contractions. I was able to sleep for several hours, which when you're about to push out a baby - is a REALLY. GOOD. THING. I was extremely thankful for an awesome anesthesiologist because he clearly knew what he was doing! I woke up the next morning, however, and hadn't dilated much from the night before... That would be the major downside to the epidural: it slowed down my labor significantly. But honestly, as long as P and I were healthy, I have no regrets. Halie was in the room with me the morning of the 27th, and the room right next door to me was a natural birth... We both looked at each other with complete pale faced fear at the noises that we heard... I have never heard screaming like that in real life. Yeah. I'm a wuss. Epidurals for me.

Before I went to sleep, based on how quickly I had progressed when I got to the hospital, they were predicting Parker to be born the next morning. When I woke up, they were telling me late morning. By late morning, they were telling me lunch time... The doctor on call came in probably around 10:45 AM on the 27th and broke my water, which had not broken yet. Once she did that, enough time had passed without my labor progressing any further for them to get concerned about infection. I had also started a low-grade fever, so they started me on antibiotics and also a very small amount of pitocin to speed things up. DEAR GOD .... Once the pitocin kicked in, I was well on my way and FAST!

I was in transition for about an hour and a half. My epidural was wearing off, and by the time I delivered it was not working AT ALL on my right side. So ... I guess I gave half-natural labor? But the transition period was the only time I felt pain throughout my labor, and oh my goodness it was the most intense pain I've ever felt in my life. It's difficult to explain, but it was awful. THANK GOD for yoga - because my yoga breathing was what got me through it all! I was able to focus and breath through the pain, even though I felt like I was being ripped apart inside. Then all of a sudden - I knew it was time to push. Either that or take a giant poop... But hey - I'm sure that both happened at some point that day, simultaneously. OH THE BEAUTY OF CHILDBIRTH!

I pushed for 30 minutes. Everyone in the room said I was a champ, because I listened to my body and was so intensely focused on feeling my contractions and kept telling my doctor, OK IT'S TIME I'M PUSHING AGAIN... I had great coaches, and great cheerleaders. Best labor support team in the world. They also all laughed at me because I was talking about having my second baby while I am working to push out the first one... Uh-huh. I'm a bit insane. No matter, 30 minutes of pushing later, and PARKER IS HERE! I cannot even attempt to put into words what I felt at that very moment. Zero pain. Zero thoughts. The only thing I could do was cry like I've never cried before, hold her, look at her, and cry. Cry the happiest tears because this little person I had been waiting for SO LONG to meet was finally here. I am NOT a cryer. I typically only cry if I am really really angry. Marrying Matt made me cry, because our ceremony was beautiful and meaningful. But this was a completely different feeling. And I cried... A lot. Ugly crying. But I just couldn't stop. She was perfect. 

My hospital was amazing for emphasizing the importance of family and bonding between mother and baby and father and baby. For an entire hour right after she was born, Parker was on my chest. They cleaned her off while she was up there, but her first 60 minutes of life were staring at me, me staring at her, and having time to soak each other in. We were finally face to face, and she had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen in my life (still does!). 

I can say with every ounce of honesty, that from there on, I have hardly any recollection of what happened. For no other reason than I was just so overwhelmed by what had just taken place. I am a giant pessimist, and never thought I could do it. Had little confidence in myself, and so much fear for the entire labor process. After it was over, I was just in shock and awe of how amazing it was, how wonderful the experience was, and how thankful I was to have these people in my life. My family, the nurses, the doctors, my amazing best friend Halie who has now seen more of me than any best friend ever should... I felt lucky. So, so lucky.

We spent 3 days in the hospital. We had visits from people who are very important to us, including a group of my former students! That was probably the most special... They passed around a 1-day old baby Parker and declared her the greatest baby in all the world. I had to agree, but it was the sweetest moment watching my Theatre Babies holding and gushing over my biological baby. I will never forget that. 

I look at Parker every day and cannot believe that she is ours. It's now been 4 1/2 months, and I am constantly in awe of how amazing she is. I can imagine what my life would be like without her, but I have absolutely zero desire to do so. She brings new meaning to my life, every single day. She allowed me to feel a kind of love I've never known. She has allowed me to fall more and more in love with my husband as I watch him become such an incredible Dad. I experience struggles daily; of identity crisis, of self-confidence, emotional overload, stresses of being a new mom... but it's all worth it. 

As Matt says all of the time, his favorite part of the day is when he gets to go into her room and wake her up. She looks up at you, blinks a few times to focus her vision, realizes who she's looking at, and throws out this insanely huge smile, kicks in delight, and her joy instantly rubs off on you. It's the best way to start the day. It makes every moment we've struggled through worth it. 

Parker Lucille Truitt: 

I am terrified of your teen years, I have so much hope for your future, I had every confidence that you will be little but fierce, and I already feel so much pride in the little lady that you will grow up to be. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. I love you around the world and back (shout-out to my 7th grade English teacher Coach Jones for that one!). Thank you for making me a mother, it is my most favorite job yet.

Today's Thoughts: How Being a Mom Has Changed Me

OH LET ME COUNT THE WAYS...!!

Other than the obvious, I feel like I am a completely different person than I was a year ago. I am still me, still Jenna... but being a mother has made me a better version of myself. Before becoming a parent, when one falls in love, it is sometimes said that the one you love makes you a better person. Cheesy, albeit truthful, until you have a child. Matt made me a better person in the sense that he was making me better prepared to be a mother. He was showing me how to love myself, so that I could show Parker how to do the same.

Before I start crying, which is something else that happens FAR too often now, let me regroup and make a list! That is what I am good at :)

HOW I'VE CHANGED:

1. My sense of self is dramatically different.
2. The things that were once important to me, are not anymore.
3. The topics that are important to me are things I never dreamed I'd think about.
4. SHOPPING TRIPS .... 
5. My relationship with my husband is new.
6. My relationship with my parents, and my in-laws, has changed.
7. Friendships I once cherished, have faded.
8. My outlook on life..... Duh.

If you read that list and think, well OBVIOUSLY those things would change when you become a parent... Come on, Jenna! Then yes, you are correct. I was told that all of the above would change, as well. I was told that my life would be different yet better, and yadda yadda yadda! But here's what they don't tell you: 

You never realize just how selfish you were, until you have a baby.

I don't mean selfish in a negative way, necessarily. But even when it was just Matt and I (and our fur babies), I really had no one to think about but myself. Sure I had to make sure I fed the dogs, and that Matt and I maintained our happy relationship, and that my apartment was clean, and MY laundry was done, and MY dinner was made, and MY after work run was had, and MY MY MY..... Sensing a trend? I woke up, took care of myself, and what mattered to me, and that was it. My life was surrounded by things that made ME content and made ME feel fulfilled. 

I have only been a mom for 4 months... This by no means makes me an expert, clearly, because my experience is far too small a range. I am learning every single day. And I love it. My academic learning pales in comparison ... because right now I am really learning about who I am, and who I want to be. And this itty bitty little person is the one that is responsible for it all! (she will be pictured below, I can't post about how awesome she is without giving photographic proof!)

Shall I elaborate? BUT OF COURSE! That is what my blog is for, after all ;)

HOW MY RELATIONSHIPS HAVE CHANGED

I'm not quite sure that I can put into words just how much my relationships have changed. Every relationship I've had in my life is different in some way, and they will continue to go through phases and change as I do the same. But let me go ahead and try.

Friendships: one of the first things I was told upon discovering I was pregnant, was that I would lose friendships (this wisdom was passed down from friends whom I love, who are recent mothers, and whose friendships I had strayed from - not intentionally - because they were mothers). It is not something you plan on. I even told myself, if I make the effort, I'll keep all of my friendships! Well, sadly... that is just not the case. When you are no longer spending your weekends out on the town, bar hopping, and rocking killer 6" heels (which I do miss!), the friends that you enjoyed those crazy nights with kind of disappear. As a big ole preggo, you become slightly uninspired to go out and socialize, especially if you are 9 month pregnant in the worst heat of a Texas summer! I tried. Oh how I tried! But it just wasn't the same. Friends who have not been through pregnancy and childbirth really don't want to talk much about it, and it's kind of all I wanted to talk about. I am now closer with my "mommy friends". I have rekindled 10-year hiatus friendships because we have new babies and therefore, much more in common. It is a sad reality, but it is what happens. Sometimes I am upset by it, especially when I do make social attempts and they are shot down... But then I have to remember that in the grand scheme of things, the friends that stick around are the ones that I care about keeping. 

Parents/In-laws: This one actually surprised me the most. I feel like my relationship with my parents and my in-laws has been a crazy roller coaster ride. But the ups and downs have lead to one sweeping realization: My respect for them has increased 10 FOLD. Being a parent is BY FAR the most challenging "job" I've ever had. And I taught middle school theatre for 5 years! The one thing that I am very happily taking away from my changed relationship with my elders (teehehe) is how much I respect them for raising multiple children, and making it look so easy. I love their guidance, even when it is unwarranted, because obviously I turned out okay (although, this could be debated). They must have done something right ;)

Husband: this will be tough to verbalize. Not because our relationship has changed for the worse, that is a completely false statement. Even though our romance may have faded in the sensationalized sense of the word, our idea of romance has changed. I look at Matt now from a new perspective. A very smart friend of mine said, nothing makes you love your husband more than watching him become a father. SO. TRUE. You tend to choose your partner because biologically, you are looking for someone to procreate with, that you would like to start a family with. It hasn't been easy. This is a huge test of your love and support. But in the end, it makes us SO much better. We are more aware of each other's emotional needs, and we are more conscious of the importance of "the little things". I am constantly in awe of Matt, how much he is doing for our family, and how much he loves Parker. I didn't think it was possible to love him more, but I do.

SHOPPING TRIPS!

This will be short and sweet, because it's VERY easy to explain how this has changed. I no longer enjoy shopping for myself. Well, that's a lie... I'm sure that will change again once I am able to fit into my pre-baby clothes more consistently! But even when I go out with the intention of buying something for me, I end up buying 5 things for Parker instead. I LOVE SHOPPING FOR PARKER... I love buying her clothes, shoes, hair bows, bedroom decor, toys, etc. The ability to impart my personal style onto this little human to one day embrace as her own, is really exciting to me. And baby clothes are the cutest thing in the world. 

WHAT I CONSIDER "IMPORTANT"

This has changed the most. From the topics that I research and pay attention to, to the activities that I participate in, everything is different. 

It's taken me this long (4 months now) to remember what I enjoyed doing post-baby. Maybe that's not healthy, and it's taken a while to get to this point, but hey - I put her first. Always. But the activities I considered important before, have taken a new meaning. I am doing yoga and running again. But not 100% for me - although these things do make me very happy. I want to set a good example of health and fitness for Parker. I am finding myself embracing the hobbies I once loved that I was able to do at home, because I am a new SAHM. I used to HATE cleaning. We're talking, LOATHE... in all forms. Now, I find myself cleaning my house at least 3 times a week, because I don't want parker eating dog hair out of the carpet, or putting dusty toys in her mouth. Not to mention that I am washing bottles upwards of 10X per day. It's still a challenge for me to find things that I enjoy doing where I can leave Parker at home, but right now, I want to spend as much time with her as humanly possible. We are starting a Mommy & Me Yoga class on Friday and I CANNOT. WAIT. Staying out at the bar until close? Not so enticing anymore. New Years Eve this year? We partied at home until 9:30 PM - when Parker crashed. I had to wake up Matt at midnight for a NYE kiss. And it was glorious.

I have always loved staying up to date on current events, politics, the entertainment industry, etc. But now I look at it all with mommy-colored glasses. This probably makes sense, because I think of how things effect us as a family, how it will effect Parker's future, and what I want P watching or listening to as she forms her own opinions and interests as a quickly growing human being. I never in a million years thought I'd be dedicated an entire blog post to breast-feeding... rewind to 2 days ago, and there we have it!

ME. MY OUTLOOK. MY SENSE OF SELF.

I made it a huge goal this year to embrace my new physical self. It's been extremely difficult for me, because I gained more in inches and LBs during pregnancy than I had expected to. I was not one of those pregnant ladies who was "all belly"... I was all belly, hips, butt, thighs, boobs, shoulders, feet, face... I showed pregnant EVERYWHERE. Because I am such a small person (by height, at least), carrying around more weight than normal is very challenging, especially since I've never been this size in my entire life. I am not obese. I am not unhealthy. I am just much bigger than I am used to. But I am learning to embrace this new me. I am learning to dress my new body, and I am easing back into a new fitness routine. It is something that I can very easily talk about, but have had the most difficulty in living out. Parker looks at me as if I am the most beautiful lady she's seen in her life... So I am trying to look at myself the same way!

I never really looked at the future on such a grand scale. My "future" was like a 5-year plan. Now - my future is from now to retirement and then some. I have a little person who for the next 18 years (if I'm lucky) will depend on me for practically everything. But as my mom always says, just because your kids leave the house, doesn't mean you ever stop being their mom. I am a mom for life. I have to think about the needs of this person before my own. It's not something you really consider to be a challenge until all you want to do is get those 10 extra minutes of "snooze" from your alarm, but the baby is UP and ready to go. 

A month before Parker was born, I made the extremely scary decision to quit my job and be a Stay at Home Mom. Scary because I LOVED my job. Being a teacher was all I had wanted to do since my senior year of high school. I intentionally majored in Theatre and Education so that I could become a theatre teacher. I went to the best state school in Texas (yes I said it! hook 'em!) with the best program for preparing theatre teachers. I was hired at the ripe age of 21 to open a brand new school and build a program. I did it, on my own, I took SO MUCH pride in my work, and I valued my students more than I think they'll ever realize. They helped me grow up, they helped make me who I am. I became very close with my school family, and I miss them dearly. Leaving my job and staying home has put me in kind of an identity crisis. What am I without my job? How do I define success? Where do I get my accolades from now that there is no physical proof of my success? 

I am still finding the answers to those questions. 4 months is definitely not enough time to have it ALL figured out! I don't know what I want to do, or where I will end up professionally, but I am so thankful that I have this time to figure it out. To learn and discover what is really important to me, and to have the opportunity to "reinvent" myself. 

This is probably one of my longer posts... and I am shocked that I am finding a way to end these thoughts. These new trends in my life are in a constant state of change. It keeps me on my toes, and I know that I will most likely not find complacency as long as I remember where I started, and where I am now. Some of these new things are more challenging to embrace, but I am loving where motherhood has taken me. I will never look back and regret my time at home with P, I will never look back and regret the fact that my body has changed, that I've lost friends, or that my ability to go out and buy $250 worth of LOFT clothing for myself every month no longer exists... Because Parker is the most amazing gift I have ever received. She is a 15 lb bundle of inspiration. I thank God every day for allowing me to be her mother. 

Today's Thoughts: The Breast Way to Feed Your Baby

Based on the fact that the mere mention of writing a post like this in my Facebook status today spawned a trail of upwards of 20 comments, I was hesitant to publish this post. But, I have been wanting to write this post for a while now, and have been waiting for a bit of inspiration to write it... Well the inspiration struck today as I was annoyed once again at the amount of judgement that is thrown on new moms. Let me preface this post by saying:

1. I am an advocate of breastfeeding. More importantly, I am an advocate of feeding your baby.
2. This post will undoubtedly be T.M.I. If boobs, nipples, boobs as food (or not), or the mere mention of the word BREASTFEEDING sends you into the "eww gross" zone - You should probably stop reading now.
3. I will more than likely offend someone with this post. That is not my intention, but I'm just throwing that out there before I begin...

INTRODUCTION:

Let's go back to what it was like to be pregnant for the first time ever. You are constantly freaking out about something, most of the time, those freak outs are totally out of your control due to the crazy hormones and whatnot. But the amount of information that is out there and readily available is enough to send anyone not sharing a body with a second life form into a tailspin. I get dizzy just thinking about everything that I read while I was pregnant, in an attempt to "prepare" myself for motherhood. 

FYI - there is only so much preparation you can do until you are actually experiencing it firsthand. Learned that one pretty quickly.

Making the decision to breastfeed or not breastfeed is an EXTREMELY personal decision. It is good to learn as much as you can, because when it comes down to it, the decision is yours to make. Not only is it extremely personal because of the nature of the activity of nursing itself, but extremely personal because of the implications that breastfeeding carries. 

I felt compelled to write this post because of my own personal experience with breastfeeding, and how it has made me feel since choosing to stop nursing and begin formula feeding. I have now experienced life on both sides of the fence, and I feel that gives me pretty good insight into both sides of the nursing argument. 

MY ADVENTURES IN BREASTFEEDING...

This is the part of my post that will begin to get more and more TMI... WARNING! I am giving you time to stop reading now if you feel like you're not going to make it!

I knew before being pregnant was even a remote possibility that I was going to struggle with breastfeeding. I am inverted... you know when a girl gets cold and you can see "headlights"? Yeah, that has never happened to me. So, as soon as I understood basic anatomy and how nursing worked - I knew that this was something I would have issues with. I've been pretty self-conscious and paranoid about it since I was about 12 years old. My entire pregnancy I did as much research as I could to figure out what I could do to make nursing a possibility for me. I pumped before Parker was born in an attempt to "pull the nipple out". I felt myself up more than I think I've ever even looked at my own boobs in the weeks leading up to my delivery ... all in an attempt to make my nipples "more adept" to nursing. I had serious anxiety over this, all before P was even physically in my arms. 

She was born. TA-DA! While in the hospital, I told the nurses that I wanted to nurse. I was given help from a nursing consultant. She came by exactly 3 times while I was in the hospital. The nurses attending to me tried to offer as much help as possible. I was given a shield (which was the wrong size, I would later learn) to try to make latching easier for P. I was told, however, that nursing with a shield was not something I should continue to offer because I needed to get P to latch on her own. This sent me into a state of panic and I immediately felt like a failure. Within the first few days of being home, I was in major tears every time I tried to feed Parker and I could not get her to latch without the shield. I took Parker to her 2-week check up with our Pediatrician. He gave me formula and told me to start supplementing because he was concerned about Parker dropping any more weight. We also discovered that P had Reflux, and that feeding (regardless of the method) was going to be a challenge no matter what I did. Cue panic attack #5.836 within my first 2 weeks of being a mom. As if there wasn't enough to worry about and feel like I was doing wrong - the one thing that SHOULD come naturally to me as a woman, DIDN'T... 

We hired a nursing consultant after 2 weeks. She came to our house. She assessed both Parker and I while nursing (have I yet mentioned that at this point I am beginning to also feel like somewhat of a science experiment because of my unique "issues"?!) ... She tells me that Parker has a high palette, and that not only is that a challenge with normal nipples, but since she can't feel mine touching the top of her mouth to trigger her sucking reflex, the chances of her latching without a shield are basically impossible. She at least makes me feel better about using the shield, that I'm not doing anything wrong by nursing with it, because basically that's the only way that it's going to be possible for me to do so.

AND THEN ... as if there was anymore to pile on to the list of challenges we are already experiencing with nursing - my supply majorly dips around week 4... I am pumping for hours on end, barely getting out an ounce from each side. I am nursing Parker for upwards of 2 hours, and she is still hungry and clearly not getting enough. I am not experiencing a "let down", I am not having crazy explosions of milk when Parker breaks her latch, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, Parker is not getting enough to eat. 

My mom and my sister bake me lactation cookies using brewer's yeast. I basically eat my weight in lactation cookies trying to increase my supply. I do everything I am instructed to do to produce more milk, but can't. Meanwhile, I am having to supplement throughout all of this because MY BABY ISN'T GETTING ENOUGH FOOD. The amount of pressure I feel to continue nursing, however, is what convinces me that I need to nurse - despite evidence in the contrary.

Even with the many, many challenges, the meltdowns (from both Parker and me), my poor, sweet husband being more knowledgeable about breastfeeding than any man I know of now, I stick it out and nurse Parker for 8 weeks. At that point, when I try to hand express I am getting tiny drops... Nothing is coming out. I have nothing to give, and I feel like a failure. 

My "plan" was not to formula feed so early. My "plan" was to nurse for at least 6-months. My "plan" (much like my birth plan) went out the window. NEW PLAN: make sure Parker keeps her weight up, is fed, healthy, and happy.

THE JUDGEMENT 

I experienced little judgement when I was nursing. I understand where the judgement comes from: nursing in public is a big one. To that I say, use a cover....? I have a really freaking cute nursing cover. Even with having to use a shield, I became a pro and sticking P under that thing, getting my shield in place. and letting her have at it. I was not comfortable myself nursing in public, but in the right setting (play group, doctors office, etc), I whipped out a boob - and the nursing cover. If you're feeling judgement while nursing, it is probably in the form of unfriendly looks and uncomfortable stares. 

Here's where I have a problem... the judgement for formula feeders is INCREDIBLY harsh. The the point of me reading articles that basically tell you that your child will develop slowly and be less intelligent if you choose to formula feed vs breastfeed. WHAT IF IT ISN'T YOUR CHOICE? What if you can't?! But then on the flip side - what if it IS your choice?! WHO are you to tell me that my child will intellectually suffer because of baby formula? Just like modern medicine, have we not come SO FAR in the product that is provided? Regardless of how you came to the decision, the judgement placed on formula feeders implies that you are doing a disservice to your baby. That your baby will suffer behaviorally, intellectually, developmentally, because you made the horrible decision to feed them with formula. Regardless of the fact that I guarantee you Mothers in countries where actual HUNGER is an issue would do anything to get a case of formula for their sweet babies. 

Yes. There is judgement on both sides. But as a nursing mother, the development of my child was never in question. Sure I may have received unwanted attention or dirty looks, but never did anyone come up to me and say "I bet if you were breastfeeding your baby she wouldn't be acting so fussy while she eats." (TRUE STORY ... someone said that to me while I bottle fed my baby near the bathrooms at the mall). "My baby has reflux you horrible human being" is what I wanted to say, but I could only stare blankly.

IN CONCLUSION ...

I made a post a while back about dealing with body issues post-baby. In that post I posed the question of why new moms can't just support and uplift each other in the difficult decisions and challenges that we are going through? And more so, why can veteran mothers not do the same to new moms? Case in point - we are all mothers. We all struggle with the same difficult choices, insecurities, feelings of guilt, questions, sleepless nights... I can go on but you get the point. Instead of making someone feel guilty about the choices that THEY have made to raise THEIR child, why can't we just support and say, good for you for doing what you need to do for you and your child so that you can both be happy and healthy? Because in the end - isn't that what is the most important? That is what I wish I saw more of while I was pregnant, a newlywed, and making the scary decision to leave my job to be a SAHM... I wish I saw more supportive blogs and articles about giving you leniency as you struggle through what being a mom is really all about. 

Like I said before, you can only be so prepared until you are truly experiencing motherhood for yourself.

I support whatever decision you choose if you are doing it so that you and your baby are healthy and happy. I support you, even if the decision is not the same as mine. 

If you can feel comfortable saying, "Don't judge a book by it's cover" in other areas of judgement in your life... Why can you not say that in regard to nursing? You never know what someone is going through, or how they came to the decision that they've made. Before you are quick to assume, take a moment to consider the fact that most people don't choose to feed their babies with a boob or with a bottle for negative reasons ... In general, we all want the same thing. So deal with the fact that it is an INDIVIDUAL decision, and move on. 

It is not your place to judge. So just don't.