Today I Am Grateful

I'm grateful that I have a moment to sit down and write.

After a very frightening call from FATMAN!, I've been thinking a lot about all of the things I have and how grateful I am for everything.

I'd like to share some of those things with you.

I am grateful for my home and its roof that protects my head.

I am grateful for the food that I have and the nutrition it provides.

I'm grateful for my clothes that keep me warm.

I am grateful for my husband and for all that he does for me and my boys.

I am so very grateful for my boys and for the wonderful blessing that I get to be a mom.

I am grateful for my boys's smiles, laughter, and sense of wonderment.

I'm grateful for toys for me, FATMAN!, and the boys.

I'm grateful for a wonderful loving family who are always there for me when I need them.

I'm grateful for great friends to talk to and learn from.

I am grateful for my education and for the resources I have to learn more if I want to.

I am grateful for technology and being able to keep in contact with family and friends who live back home and elsewhere.

I am grateful for my imagination.

I am grateful for my many talents and for the chances I get to share them with others.

I'm grateful for art because it beautifies my home.

I'm grateful for an amazing credit union who has our back and catches problems before they become disastrous.

I'm grateful for books, music, and movies to keep Squid and myself entertained.

I'm grateful for Jamberry.

And as much as I hate it, I am grateful for the snow that has fallen to make the coming summer easier.

There are so many other things that I am grateful for, but if I don't stop now, I may not ever stop. There are so many good things in life. All we have to do is look.

Dear Lady Who Skinny Shamed Me

The other day I was out in public and was stopped by a women who said, "There's something wrong here." I looked around to make sure I had everything and I could see nothing "wrong". After I looked back at her confused, she continued and said, "You shouldn't look that good right after giving birth. It's just not right." She may have meant it as a compliment, but it sure as heck did not come across as one. She was not the first to comment on how well I look but the way that she said it left me feeling sick and frustrated.



Dear lady who skinny shamed me, 

Thank you for noticing me and feeling like you needed to make a comment. However, what you said was a harsh, back-handed compliment and you should have thought about what you said before saying it. 

There is nothing "wrong" with me. So what if I've lost almost all of the baby weight two months after giving birth? What business is it of yours? 

You have no idea what I felt like when I was pregnant. You have no idea how uncomfortable I was in my pregnant body. You have no idea how much I am negative about my appearance, especially during and after pregnancy. 

Did you know that I had no tearing during delivery? Did you know I was given permission by my doctor to start working out as soon as I felt up to it? No, you didn't! Why? Because you didn't ask how I was. You didn't even sign up or offer to help me after I got home from the hospital. In fact, all you have said to me after delivery is that there is "something wrong" with how good I look after delivery. 

About 90% of the weight I gained while pregnant was all baby. I got sick with food poisoning about halfway through my pregnancy and lost a lot of the extra weight I had gained at that point. Then afterwards, I tried to eat healthy and do whatever exercise I could manage to help me not gain too much weight. So after delivery, I didn't have a ton of weight to lose, mostly just loose skin to tighten. After a few weeks, I was finally getting the energy to work out and Kickboxer was on a schedule where I found the time to get in a ten minute work out and start feeling more comfortable in my skin again. 

I'm still not where I want to be. I still have a pouch. I can still see many of my stretch marks. My butt and thighs are bigger than I wish they were. I have love handles. And I still have loose skin. But I am working on it, because I want to feel like me again. I want to feel comfortable in my body again. 

I'm not working out because I am vain. I'm not working out for my husband. I'm working out for me. I want to better myself. And if wanting to better myself and feel comfortable is what's "wrong" with me, you need to reevaluate your life and what you think "right" and "wrong" is. 

So, thank you for noticing me, but no thank you.

Sincerely, 
Sarah

Today Was a Bad Day

Today was a bad day.

Today I almost didn't get out of bed.

Today I yelled at my kids.
Today I was exhausted beyond belief from lack of sleep.

Today I sat on the couch and played on my phone.

Today I didn't want to hold my baby.

Today I had thoughts that I am ashamed of.

Today I didn't care if my toddler threw a fit.

Today I just let my baby scream.

Today I wanted nothing more than to just go back to bed.

Today I felt nothing.

Today I felt anger.

Today I just wanted to scream.
Today I have barely eaten.

Today I didn't want to be a mom.

Today I wanted my old life.

Today I wanted to run away.

Today I hid myself.

Today I didn't care about anything.

Today I cried.

Today my demons got the better of me.

Today was a bad day.

But tomorrow is a new day!

Tomorrow I have the chance to be better than I was today.

Tomorrow can be completely different.

Tomorrow hasn't been stained with negativity yet.

Tomorrow is a clean slate.

Tomorrow is a new chance.

Tomorrow could be a good day.

Tomorrow could be a great day!

Tomorrow I could defeat my demons.

Tomorrow I could be happy.

Tomorrow is a new day.

As you know, I recently gave birth to my second son. And as many of you know, with my first son I got hit with a mild case of postpartum depression when he turned 8 months old. I wish I could say the same thing again, but I'd be lying. This time around it's hit me much earlier and harder. But this time around I have gotten help sooner. I still have my bad days, but I can handle them a little bit easier. I just have to keep reminding myself that if today is a bad day, if yesterday was a bad day, if I've had many bad days in a row, tomorrow is a new day to try again. 

A Blessing Amid Chaos

Baby Kickboxer has made his debut! He's about three weeks old and FATMAN! and I are absolutely in love with him. Though he has warmed up to a baby being in the house, Squid still doesn't fully know what to think about Kickboxer or being a big brother. 

But the way that Kickboxer made his debut is one for the books. If I hadn't been there and witnessed it myself, I wouldn't believe it happened like this. 

First, a little back story: My labor and delivery with the Squid was quite easy, typical, and had very little problems. I was able to labor through the contractions with breathing techniques and relaxing in the tub. I did not get an epidural (but I was asking for it at the end when it was too late). I had to have my waters broken by the doctor. Squid decided to start coming before I was fully dilated and I ended up pushing for two hours. I tore a little bit and needed 4 stitches. For it being my first labor and delivery, it was good and much better than I expected it to be. 

My labor and delivery with Kickboxer was completely different. It was hard. It was ugly. 
My water broke at 3 am when I rolled over in bed after FATMAN! bumped me when he rolled over. I immediately sat up getting my bed all wet and woke FATMAN! up then jumped to action to get everything together and ready to go to the hospital. As soon as the sitter arrived to stay with Squid until my parents arrived, FATMAN! and I were off. 

As soon as we got to my room and somewhat settled, I was told my water had indeed broken (they tested just to be sure) and that I was only dilated 1 cm. It was going to be a while before Kickboxer arrived. Both FATMAN! and I did our best to relax and rest while contractions started and progressed. By the time the nurses rotated 3 hours after we arrived, I was dilated to 3 cm and my contractions were all over the place.

My new nurse suggested I lay on my side to help move contractions along. So I did... and my contractions sure did come closer together, but they also became more and more intense as time passed. I did my best to manage the pain, but as time went on and my contractions became unbearable, I started to cry and started to ask for an epidural, which I had planned on not doing. After about an hour and a half of crying and asking but being torn with making a final decision, I gave in and told FATMAN! that I wanted an epidural. Which was perfect timing because my nurse had just come in to check on things again. I told the nurse my decision and after checking the progress (I was dilated to 5 cm), she went and got the anesthesiologist. He was super nice and quite funny. It took about 20 minutes for the epidural to start working, but once it kicked in and my pain started to subside, FATMAN! left to get lunch and I rested. Within an hour, I was starting to feel much better and fell asleep for about an hour. 

The next few hours were quite uneventful. FATMAN! and I sat and laid around watching TV and checked in with my parents who had come up to help with the Squid. Progression had slowed so I was put on oxytocin around 3:30-ish and I was rolled onto my side yet again. Nearing the end of labor, I started feeling pressure from my contractions and a kick here and there from Kickboxer, but other than that, nothing exciting happened. 

And then at about 5:20 (I honestly don't know, I'm guesstimating) I felt this odd feeling near my hip. The best way I can explain it is that it felt like a fluttery kick (when you first start feeling your baby moving around inside you at the beginning of pregnancy). I thought it was odd, but didn't think anything else about it. Then I felt the exact same thing a minute later.... then thirty seconds later. It was after that third time that I told FATMAN! to go get my nurse. Instead of doing what I said, he came to the other side of my bed to check on my contractions on the monitor. When he saw that nothing was wrong, he turned towards the door and saw a bulge under the sheet that wasn't quite right. He said something to the effect of "He's here" and ran out the door. I immediately threw back the sheet just in time to see Kickboxer's butt and legs emerge. At that sight I was overcome with many emotions: relief that it was finally over, happiness that I didn't have to push at all let alone two hours, fear because he was bluer than Squid when he was born and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his body (and the sheet didn't clear his head), and awe and wonderment (possibly a little shock). 

My nurse, the baby nurse, and an extra nurse all came rushing in with FATMAN! at the caboose. A fourth nurse went to the room next to mine to get my doctor (who didn't believe at first that I had delivered without his assistance) and he came in a minute later. While one nurse was taking care of Kickboxer and another one was taking care of me, my doctor, FATMAN!, and I were trying to figure out what had happened. My doctor has the theory that Kickboxer was in a bad position all during labor and then he finally rolled over and just slid right now. At the same time as we were discussing the miracle, I was waiting to hear my son cry. It must have only been about a minute, but it felt like forever to me. The nurse said that he had extra fluid in his passageways and that was what caused him to have a hard time breathing at first. Still the pediatrician put us on house arrest for a few days because of it. But as soon as he did cry, my fear subsided and I was so happy to know that my son was healthy. 

It's been an interesting and rough three weeks since then. Kids change everything. When one of those kids is a terrible two and the other is a newborn, hardly anything stays clean or gets done all at once, especially now that FATMAN! is back to his normal work schedule. I manage. Some days I go to bed tired and weary. Other days I go to bed exhausted because I've been up since before the sun with no break or rest. Some days I wonder why I even wanted children in the first place. And then Squid says the cutest thing and Kickboxer smiles while sleeping in my arms. It's the small things that make it worth all the crazy and stressful times. 

I Wish...

I wish I could go back to simpler times.
When I didn't have to worry about what time it was and when I need to feed the Squid next.
When I didn't have to worry about keeping an entire house clean, but only a room. 
When I wasn't changing diapers and clothing (Squid's and mine) constantly. 
When I didn't have to juggle a wiggly baby. 
When I didn't have to worry about how much food I am producing. 
When I could go to the bathroom exactly when I need instead of waiting until Squid is content. 
When love was young and innocent and silly. 
When I only had to pack for one instead of two.
When there were inside jokes.
When I only needed my keys, wallet, phone, pants. 
When I had a job that I loved and looked forward to. 
When there were movie nights. 
When there were spontaneous hang outs.
When there was The Chronicles of Starnia. 
When there were friends who were my age.
When those friends were going through the same thing I was.
When I could call someone up and immediately jump in the car and go hang out. 
When I didn't have to constantly worry about money. 
When I could be a kid even though I was a teenager because I didn't care. 
When I didn't have to wonder who my friends were. 
When there was always a furry happy pup waiting for me at home. 
When friends would call up and say, "Let's go do something!" and I could.
When I didn't have to pack a diaper bag before leaving the house. 
When my arms, shoulders, and back didn't hurt all the time. 
When we went to the park at 10:00 at night and threw our cares away. 
When I didn't have to always bite my tongue.
When dates were just plain fun instead of long, intricate planning to make it perfect. 
When I could take my time getting up in the morning. 
When I could read any time I wanted because I had the time. 
When I didn't have to worry about compromise or sacrifice. 
When I wasn't so angry or frustrated all the time. 
When I didn't have melt downs because I didn't feel noticed. 
When I didn't always have doubt. 
When I didn't have so much responsibility. 
Can we go back to those times?