An Open Discussion about Motherhood

One of the unexpected things that has come from various middle-of-the-night feedings is that you have a lot of time for your mind to wander. You'd be surprised to see the number of memos I have in my phone dedicated to random things I want to look up/do/write about/ponder at some point when I have the ability to better do so. These thoughts are all over the place, some good, some bad, but likely stemming from some piece of my semi-conscious mind. This morning, as I was feeding my sweet baby girl, I stumbled across some thoughts that angered me. I'm not usually the kind of person to take strong positions or jump on a soapbox (Okay, but does blogging count as a soapbox? Serious question here...), but indulge me just this once. Because I've got some thoughts. Although I feel like this goes without saying, I'll preface this by saying that I have an amazing tribe of people in my life, specifically Thomas and Katherine. Also, I know that women/couples who have issues with reproductive health or infertility would be less than sympathetic to some of this. I get it, but I also have feelings of my own that I need to let out. And this is more bold than usual. So here goes.

Yesterday I fell into my pattern of TV watching that includes the 3 favorite shows of most basic 20-somethings, Friends, The Office, and Parks and Recreation. I go through seasons that each show "speaks" to me more than another. I also go through seasons in which I get irrationally annoyed with the character development and the stereotypes that many of the characters play into because I'm "woke" like that (is that what the youths call it?), so there's that. I digress. An episode of Parks and Rec was on yesterday, "Pie Mary" from the final season. The short version is that Leslie, the feminist protagonist who has a high-level government career, is the wife of Ben, who is running for public office. One traditional campaign event is a pie-baking contest held among the wives of the candidates. Leslie, who is very non-traditional, balks at the implied sexism of the event and wants to forego it because it's simply not her thing. Cue everyone getting irrationally upset, including a bunch of "men's rights" activists who protest every event Ben (and Leslie) attend. It all comes to climax at the end when Leslie goes on an epic rant...

This scene prompted me to do a little self-reflection, and this is where I landed. Women, especially moms, are held to standards that are ridiculously unfair. I went up to the school last week to get my laptop and was asked about 10 times who would be caring for Katherine upon my return to work. When Thomas went back to work, he was congratulated and was able to step right back to where he left off before Katherine came without any question of who's caring for his child, since obviously his wife was at home doing so. Then the plethora of invasive questions that no one really has any business asking anyone unless you're directly related or on that level with the person. For example, asking about if you're breastfeeding or formula feeding. The rhetoric on both sides surrounding this very topic is enough to ignite a million rages within me. So many sources are so quick to only propagate the benefits of breastfeeding and how it's an absolute must, but hardly ever discuss the challenges that accompany it, especially as a working mom. And don't get me started on the scrutiny women who exclusively breastfeed face on the daily. Or the women who choose to feed their baby formula. Oh wait? Scrutiny on both ends? This "damned if you do, damned if you don't" mentality that permeates American society (and possibly society in general) is where all of my anger is coming from. 

As a mother, you. can't. win. 

You have to deal with the 9 months of pregnancy and all the related maladies, childbirth (which is not a picnic, no matter how your baby leaves your body), having your hormones so messed up that you don't even know what "normal" is and you've resigned yourself to having a certain level of crazy for the indefinite future, having a variety of fluids leaving your body simultaneously and involuntarily, feeling emotional because you require 4 different wardrobe sizes on 4 different days...sometimes all within the same day, if you're extra lucky. Not being able to physically withstand the exercise you need to do to be back to where you perpetually want your body to be. Having to figure out how to juggle being a mom and wife and whatever else it is you do at work. Knowing that staying home isn't necessarily an option or desire for everyone. Full disclosure, if I could stay home with Kat, I would. But I can't, so here we are. (Catch 22 again.) Then worrying about getting pregnant again postpartum. That's a topic I don't even have the mental wherewithal to touch. 

Having not only yourself to worry about, but also your child(ren) and sometimes your spouse, too. More appointments to keep track of, more supplies that are needed, more demands. Feeling like you have to ask for permission before you do literally anything because you feel like you have no freedom to even shower. Seeing people praise dads doing literally anything with their children, but having moms do the same things and receiving no recognition, or worse, all kinds of criticism and unsolicited opinions/advice. (To be fair, dads play a big role in children's lives. I can attest to their impact as an educator. But also not addressing that particular topic today.) People saying that dads staying home with their children are babysitting (not being a parent), but expecting women to make a lifestyle of it. People judging working moms for choosing to strive for career-related goals/moves, or  conversely judging when you decide to step back and prioritize your family. (Again, not something men have to deal with, literally ever. In fact, men are often praised regardless of whichever choice they make. They're either seen as the breadwinner or the amazing family man. Not as a terrible parent or like they're totally abandoning their sense of purpose or wasting their life.) People constantly worrying about when dads are home alone with kids, but again, expecting it of moms pretty early on in the parenting journey. 

And this is only the tip of the iceberg that is my frustration. I can't say I'm mad at anyone, because I'm mad at the situation. I'm mad at the fact that our society seems to equate motherhood with martyrdom. It seems to glorify the mindset that moms have to be overworked, overwhelmed, angry, crazy bitches and that dads have to be helpless, spineless, and generally clueless dopes. Don't believe me? Take a look at almost every family-based sitcom or TV commercial that has ever existed, it's full of dads who I'd like to throat punch. Take a look at social media--it's full of moms posting passive-aggressive memes lamenting the stresses of their load. As much as it pisses me off, it also terrifies me. We live in a world where we tell our daughters they can do anything they set their minds to, but know that this frustration will await them on the other side if/when they have children. What good is that?

This message has permeated our minds to the point to accept that it HAS to be this way. What are we doing to help flip the narrative? What can we do to change this? My biggest question might just be this: what can I do to make sure that Katherine (and any future daughters I could have) doesn't have to deal with this?

These are, sadly, questions that don't have easy answers. It could come from being more judicious in choosing elected officials to advocate for some of the related legislation. It could come from cultivating marriages and relationships that are supportive where both parties can easily and freely air their grievances and work to improve things instead of silently suffering. It might come from raising boys to be empathetic men who are willing to be better. It might come from finding (or building) community where women don't feel so isolated in their struggles, especially first-time moms. For me, I'm changing this by not staying quiet. I'm going to do my best to not swallow my frustrations in the name of keeping peace or saving face. I'm going to raise Katherine to have high standards in terms of the people she allows in her life. I'm going to continue to be thankful for Thomas and the fact that he's willing to listen and be a partner, not a helper. (To me, helping implies that there is an imbalance of power/duties. Partnering is more of being on the same page and working together.) I'm grateful for both of my parents who did an amazing job of instilling values in us girls and showing us what a partnership looks like. 

Perhaps motherhood (or maybe hormones or sleep-deprivation) has flipped a switch in my brain, but I'm ready to start talking about what matters to me. Staying quiet, for me, only causes these things to fester to the point that they leave me with anger that isn't easily quelled. There's a lot of unfair things happening in the world these days and this is the tip of the iceberg. Little by little, I'll gain the courage to quit being passive and cause some ripples. No, I'm not turning into a bra burner. (I need one of those especially these days--ha!) I'm not going at this from a "liberal" or "conservative" angle. These are issues that need to be talked about and de-stigmatized. When we can have open, honest conversations, they might make us uncomfortable for a little bit, but they might also change our minds. They might make us more empathetic, more compassionate, more willing to spark the changes that need to happen. Thanks for reading and listening to me--I'm just getting started!

ridiculous, and men's rights is nothing
Third, I'm now gonna give you permanent

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=parks-and-recreation&episode=s07e09

he first thing I'm gonna do is say sorry.
I'm sorry that the spotlight is on me and not on Ben, because he is going to make a great congressman.
Second, the Male Men Where are you? Ah.
You're ridiculous, and men's rights is nothing.
Third, I'm now gonna give you permanent answers to all the silly questions that you're gonna end up asking me, and every other woman in this election, over the next few months.
"Why did I change my hairstyle?" Oh, I don't know.
I just thought it would look better.
Or my kids got gum in it.
"Are you trying to have it all?" That question makes no sense.
It's a stupid question.
Stop asking it.
Don't ask it.
"Do you miss your kids while you're at work?" Yes, of course I do.
Everybody does.
And then, you know, sometimes I don't.
Yeah.
And by the way, no one's ever asked me that question.
No one asks me, "Where are your kids?" Or, "Who's taking care of them?" By the way, who is taking care of the kids right now? My mom, babe.
Everything's fine.
Right.
So, maybe Leslie doesn't fit your personal idea of what a candidate's wife should be.
So what? That's good, because there shouldn't be just one idea anyway.
That's right.
If you wanna bake a pie, that's great.
If you wanna have a career, that's great, too.
Do both, or neither, it doesn't matter.
Just don't judge what someone else has decided to do.
We're all just trying to find the right path for us.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=parks-and-recreation&episode=s07e09

The first thing I'm gonna do is say sorry.
I'm sorry that the spotlight is on me and not on Ben, because he is going to make a great congressman.
Second, the Male Men Where are you? Ah.
You're ridiculous, and men's rights is nothing.
Third, I'm now gonna give you permanent answers to all the silly questions that you're gonna end up asking me, and every other woman in this election, over the next few months.
"Why did I change my hairstyle?" Oh, I don't know.
I just thought it would look better.
Or my kids got gum in it.
"Are you trying to have it all?" That question makes no sense.
It's a stupid question.
Stop asking it.
Don't ask it.
"Do you miss your kids while you're at work?" Yes, of course I do.
Everybody does.
And then, you know, sometimes I don't.
Yeah.
And by the way, no one's ever asked me that question.
No one asks me, "Where are your kids?" Or, "Who's taking care of them?" By the way, who is taking care of the kids right now? My mom, babe.
Everything's fine.
Right.
So, maybe Leslie doesn't fit your personal idea of what a candidate's wife should be.
So what? That's good, because there shouldn't be just one idea anyway.
That's right.
If you wanna bake a pie, that's great.
If you wanna have a career, that's great, too.
Do both, or neither, it doesn't matter.
Just don't judge what someone else has decided to do.
We're all just trying to find the right path for us.
As individuals.
On this Earth.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=parks-and-recreation&episode=s07e09

The first thing I'm gonna do is say sorry.
I'm sorry that the spotlight is on me and not on Ben, because he is going to make a great congressman.
Second, the Male Men Where are you? Ah.
You're ridiculous, and men's rights is nothing.
Third, I'm now gonna give you permanent answers to all the silly questions that you're gonna end up asking me, and every other woman in this election, over the next few months.
"Why did I change my hairstyle?" Oh, I don't know.
I just thought it would look better.
Or my kids got gum in it.
"Are you trying to have it all?" That question makes no sense.
It's a stupid question.
Stop asking it.
Don't ask it.
"Do you miss your kids while you're at work?" Yes, of course I do.
Everybody does.
And then, you know, sometimes I don't.
Yeah.
And by the way, no one's ever asked me that question.
No one asks me, "Where are your kids?" Or, "Who's taking care of them?" By the way, who is taking care of the kids right now? My mom, babe.
Everything's fine.
Right.
So, maybe Leslie doesn't fit your personal idea of what a candidate's wife should be.
So what? That's good, because there shouldn't be just one idea anyway.
That's right.
If you wanna bake a pie, that's great.
If you wanna have a career, that's great, too.
Do both, or neither, it doesn't matter.
Just don't judge what someone else has decided to do.
We're all just trying to find the right path for us.
As individuals.
On this Earth.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=parks-and-recreation&episode=s07e09

The Birth Story

As mentioned, Katherine joined the party on the 11th, just 4 days before her due date! 

The whole week prior to her arrival was soaked up with me finding any and everything to do to keep my mind off the fact that my entire world was about to be changed. It involved lots of napping, visits with friends who stay at home with their babies, and a random 6:30 AM trip to the grocery store when I couldn’t sleep one morning. (That’s actually the best time to go, FYI.) 

The day before her birth was my laziest day yet. I slept a lot and watched lots of Netflix. That evening, Thomas came home and mowed the lawn. I felt so stir crazy that I picked up twigs in the backyard (to put in Thomas’ new fire pit...his stir crazy project) and rolled up a garden hose. Both were things that I probably shouldn’t have been doing, but I had the energy and was sick of being alone in the house. It was unseasonably cool that evening, maybe in the low 80s, so I coerced Thomas to go with me on a walk through the neighborhood after he finished mowing. I had plans to go on walks for the rest of the week, too! 

After the walk, we got ready for bed, but I had a harder time settling than usual. I slept fitfully for an hour or so before waking up feeling off. I hurried to the bathroom to have my suspicions confirmed—my water was breaking! Telling Thomas was a bit amusing, as I had to wake him from a dead sleep all the way from our bathroom. I didn’t want to shout and scare him, but I also couldn’t speak in a normal voice and have him actually hear me. I ended up shouting and when he finally heard, he sat straight up in bed and sprang to life. In that moment, I was glad we had all our bags packed because it made our lives easier. Within 10 minutes, we were out the door and on the road to the hospital. It was about 1 AM at this point. If I would’ve known what my day held, I would’ve lobbied to stop for food...

We got to Labor & Delivery admissions a short while later, alleviating my fear that I’d need to get to the hospital in the middle of rush hour traffic and have it take forever. To the contrary, there was NO traffic at 1 AM! Also, the fact that I had preregistered for my visit expedited the admission process. I was a sight to behold in my pajamas and Birkenstocks (aka the only shoes I’d been able to fit on my swollen feet for the last trimester). I contemplated looking a little more presentable but decided that I’d end up leaking fluid all over myself and would end up in a hospital gown fairly soon, so comfort won out. 

Walking to my room while leaking fluid was every bit as awkward and uncomfortable as it sounds. And of course we went to the farthest room possible. I had never stayed in a hospital to that point, so I was entering uncharted territory. By that I mean that I was about to say goodbye to every last bit of modesty I’d ever have in my life. Getting set up in the bed was annoying because I was covered in a tangled mess of fetal dopplers, contraction monitors, a pulse ox that was taped to my hand, and a port for the variety of things they injected in my body. All while I was still leaking fluid and feeling like I peed my pants. On the upside (?) we had access to local cable at 2 AM, which is every bit enthralling as one would think. I think we either settled for Seinfeld or the extra early version of the Today show. From this point on, I have never envied Thomas this much. 

I had to sit and wait. They told me to sleep, which is funny since I really hadn’t been able to sleep for the past few weeks, so joke’s on them. And hospital beds are incredibly uncomfortable minus the fact that they reclined, making sitting up in bed easy for the first time since January. I eventually rested in fitful bursts, often interrupted by nurses checking my vitals or telling me to use the bathroom. I was also informed that I was officially NPO (nothing by mouth) until I popped my child out. They informed me I was BARELY dilated (won’t go into those gory details), so I would start a Pitocin drip to augment labor. I finally figured out what contractions felt like, which were surprisingly lesspainful than when they checked how dilated I was. Also less painful than when they gave me my first dose of antibiotics via IV. Slowly they ramped up in intensity, but I think that had more to do with them upping the Pitocin flow. A few hours later, we found out I had progressed by 1 cm, making me 2 cm dilated. After about 4-5 hours on Pitocin. Oh joy. I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, so that’s about when they brought in the anesthesiologist to administer my epidural. He was a welcome sight, despite the inordinate pain leading up to it taking effect. Thomas was in and out of the room getting food at that time (lucky jerk...). I was settled in on a sporadic diet of ice chips, heavily monitored by my nurses who made sure I didn’t have too many, for whatever reason. 

The idea was that they gave me an epidural early on so my body would relax and dilated like it’s supposed to. Let’s fast forward a few hours and cut to the chase. By 4 PM NOTHING, and I mean absolutely NOTHING had changed. And I was admitted at 1:30 AM. And I hadn’t eaten since 10:30 PM the night before. My doctor was slowly getting concerned, so we started considering that a regular birth might not happen. When Thomas reiterated to my doctor how long I’d been there on Pitocin, my doctor slightly freaked out and decided that a C-section was on deck for me. He was concerned that there was a reason Katherine wasn’t descending like she needed to and wanted to keep me comfortable/safe. He was also worried about me losing strength since it had been 16 hours and counting since I last ate. So, a C-section it was. 

At this point, Thomas went to inform his parents (who had dutifully waited in the lobby since about 8:30 or 9 that morning). I also called my mom, who hadn’t made it to Dallas yet due to situations beyond her control. Mom and I had a moment in which I realized that mom guilt never goes away. I thought I had some time before the C-section, as there were supposedly 5 women on deck already and it was looking like it could be about 8 PM before I could go. Apparently my doctor rallied hard and bumped me to the front of the line since I’d been there so long. Before I knew it, a swarm of nurses came in and started getting me ready for surgery. I’m not entirely sure what that entailed besides them upping my epidural dosage, and I’m okay with that. About the time they finished that process, Thomas was allowed back in the room and was given a set of scrubs to put on over his clothes. 

They wheeled me back to the OR. It was quite the surreal feeling. Then my OR team shifted me to the operating table. THAT was a weird feeling, especially since I was numb from the neck down. I loved my nurses in there. Their first order of business was figuring out what music I like so they could turn it on the overhead speakers. They used one of my workout playlists that contains lots of 90s and 00s throwbacks. I wish I could remember the exact song that was playing when Katherine was born, but I can’t. There’s a decent chance it was a Salt N Pepa or Missy Elliot song...ha! 

The procedure was a surprisingly quick process. I think it took 20-30 minutes from start to finish. My doctor kept the mood light. Also, he had a med student shadowing him for the day, and I gave her permission to witness the birth. (Anything for education, right?) 

Before I knew it, my world changed forever. At 5:28 PM, Katherine was pulled from my womb and breathed her first breaths in the outside world. Meeting your child for the first time is surreal. I was shocked by how much hair she had and the sound of her cry! I was not shocked by the fact that she weighed 9 pounds exactly—I knew I had a big baby! Soon after we were wheeled back to my room where they finished measuring Katherine and I was finally off anesthesia long enough to be able to hold Katherine without fearing I’d drop her. (My arms were previously numb...)

We spent the next bit of time skin to skin. It was magical holding her in my arms at last. Then my nurse gave the best news I’d heard all day—she was bringing me food! I ate 2 graham crackers and a red Gatorade. I think that was the best meal I’ve ever had in my life, no lie. Shortly thereafter I was given a crash course on breastfeeding. It amazed me how my body knew what to do even though I had a C-section. I wish I could say that part was magical, but not so much. So it goes. 

We eventually moved to the postpartum room where we spent the next 3 days. Steve and Diana quickly joined us. Soon after, Jean and Jay came up to visit. Jay was heading back to NYC the next day, so she came in the nick of time! Mom and Dad finally made it to the hospital around 11:30 that night. Everyone who came immediately fell in love with Katherine, especially my dad. He apparently didn’t believe that I’d actually have a girl, so seeing that he had a granddaughter in the flesh melted his heart. He decided to call Katherine his kitten. Anyone who knows my calloused farmer of a dad will be equal parts shocked and not shocked that he was such a softy for his newest grandchild. My heart was happy for that moment!

We FaceTimed a lot with Elizabeth, who was stuck in STL taking a gross anatomy class for her PT program. Being away taking a terribly difficult class during all the excitement was her personal hell, no doubt. Thank God for technology that kept her connected to us! 

More visitors came through the coming days, but I think I’ll end the birth story here. More excitement has since followed, but that’s for another time. 

I Held You

Last night was tough. You dozed a little later than usual and had a hard time going to bed. I didn’t fall asleep until after 3 am and was up again at 6:30 with you. I felt like a failure. I laid on the couch with you, and we cried together. We went through 4 diapers in 5 minutes. Two outfits within an hour. I thought motherhood would look different. I thought motherhood would feel different. Yet there I was, losing my mind, feeling so disconnected from myself. So many worries plagued my mind. Some about you, others about me. Sleep eluded me far longer than I hoped.

You took a long nap this morning, and so did I. We were supposed to meet friends to go walking, but we didn’t. I couldn’t stand to face the world after the night I had. Slowly I woke up to the sounds of you cooing in your crib. 

After the night before, when I questioned my ability to be your momma, I approached your room with fear and a twinge of shame, thinking back to mere hours before when I felt so empty and lost.  You were waking up and flailing your arms about, like usual. Your eyes opened and were fixed on me. You looked peaceful seeing me there to pick you up. 

We did a quick diaper change, and you gave me some sweet smiles. In that moment, all the emptiness, brokenness, shame, and guilt vanished. I realized that you don’t need the perfect mom I was wishing I could’ve been. You need me. Your imperfect mom who cusses more than I should, who cries a lot, who has more quirks than I care to admit, but who loves you so much it brings me to tears. 

I fed you, then later ate lunch myself. You were fussy and clingy. I just wanted some peace to make and eat my sandwich. But when I put you down, you screamed bloody murder. Like the neighbors might hear and call CPS on me because they think you’re being tortured screaming. So I held you. You squirmed and screamed some more while I ate, but then I pulled you in tight. Suddenly, you melted into me and went to sleep. 

I had a million things to do. Laundry that has needed to be put away for a week. Bottles to wash. Papers to be filed. Clutter to remove. Thank you notes to write. Dinner to prep. On and on and on. I needed this time, so I got up to lay you down. Then your eyes shot open, and you gave me a look that wondered why I was putting you down when you obviously weren’t really that sleepy. 

So I held you. To hell with the other things that needed to be done. They’ll still be there later. The errands I needed to run seemed trivial when I considered the fact that for this sliver of time, you need me in a way that you’ll never need me again. You need your mom to hold and snuggle you. You need to be in your safe, familiar place—my arms. Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment. 

My sweet little girl, I love you so. Momma will hold you for as long as you’ll let me. 

Welcome to the World, Baby Girl!

Introducing...

Katherine Michelle

6/11/19

9 lbs., 20.5 inches long

Her birth story is one for the books, but one last-minute C-section later, she entered the world at 5:28 PM! (All thanks to her 14.25” circumference head!)

Our hearts are so full of love for this sweet baby girl!