Today I had the daunting task of trying (emphasis on "trying") to find myself a bathing suit. Never before has this been a daunting task, as pre-marriage/pre-pregnancy, my weight maxed out at all of 125 lbs. No, I've never been super model skinny, but I've also never been overweight - at all.
In fact, I can go as far as to say that I have never once felt insecure in my body... ever. Well, until now.
So, my shopping trip: I checked out Bikini Village (the name itself should have been my first clue!) with no luck. Sears had about 5 bathing suits, all aging me about 60 years. The Bay had none. Wal-Mart had ones that were made for a pre-pubescent 13 year old. Finally, exhausted, feeling very pale and very large, I asked for help.
After dragging myself (and Jon and Poppy - both wonderful shoppers, might I add) around town desperately trying to find a magical bathing suit that will make me look the way I used to (minus the stretch marks and extra pounds), I got a notification on my BlackBerry from Facebook that said:
"I've got to say that judging on recent appearances, you look better now than before you got pregnant!~ Embrace it - you are glowing and gorgeous, as only motherhood can make you!!"
You know what? She's right. I still feel like she's completely delusional because when I look in the mirror, a 'glowing and gorgeous' woman is most certainly not what I see. But, still, she's right.
(Don't get me wrong, by the way - I don't think I'm some hideous Frankenstein relative or something! My body is just a lot different than how it used to be!)
I've said before many times, "How can a woman feel fat after being pregnant?! You drop like 30 pounds in a couple of weeks!" But now I get it. I still feel like that 115 lb teeny bopper (as my Grandma would say!), but I don't have her body anymore!
I gave life to a beautiful little princess I love with all of my heart. And given the chance, including the stretch marks and extra pounds, I would, and hope to, do it over again in a heartbeat. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, compares to the love a mother has for her baby.
So moms, "Embrace it - you are glowing and gorgeous, as only motherhood could make you!"
Three cheers for baby induced stretch marks!!!
:)
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Silly People...
A good friend and fellow mom and I went to the mall the other day. Neither of us needed anything, but both of us were eager to get out of the house, so we did about a million laps around the mall. Good times! Poppy slept a full 3 hours (while we walked), and Paige melted the hearts of every woman who walked by us. She is adorable.
Anyway, funny story.
As I walked up to the counter of Orange Julius to get myself a deeeeelicious smoothie, the man behind the counter smiled in a very friendly manner and welcomed me to O.J. After I ordered, and as he was making my smoothie, he tried to make small talk.
"So... is it a girl...?"
Now let me paint a picture for you of just how ridiculous this question is. For anyone who knows me, you know that Poppy has a pink car seat. She also has a pink blanket, ALWAYS a pink outfit, a pink toque, and a pink soother. If I could possibly put any more pink on her, I would. Mostly to avoid awkward comments like these.
Actually, now that I've painted you a picture, now let me show you a picture.
Anyway, funny story.
As I walked up to the counter of Orange Julius to get myself a deeeeelicious smoothie, the man behind the counter smiled in a very friendly manner and welcomed me to O.J. After I ordered, and as he was making my smoothie, he tried to make small talk.
"So... is it a girl...?"
Now let me paint a picture for you of just how ridiculous this question is. For anyone who knows me, you know that Poppy has a pink car seat. She also has a pink blanket, ALWAYS a pink outfit, a pink toque, and a pink soother. If I could possibly put any more pink on her, I would. Mostly to avoid awkward comments like these.
Actually, now that I've painted you a picture, now let me show you a picture.
She would have looked something like this. Except, instead of wearing white, she was wearing pink.
Now please, please, please, if you are one of these people who regularly defends people who ask these RIDICULOUS questions... please don't! Not this time. It was TOO obvious!!! Haha.
I smiled, and said: "Yep! She's a girl." as if I'd never heard a more reasonable question in my life.
Baby Drama
The last couple of weeks have been... interesting... to say the least. To futher elaborate: the last couple of weeks have been agonizing, amazing, funny, entertaining, heartwarming, beautiful, sleep deprived, heartbreaking, and full of memories.
Jon and I went to London a couple of weeks ago to visit Grandma! It was her first time meeting Poppy, and therefore we were all quite excited for the trip! Now, Poppy is used to our Culligan water for her bottles, and frankly, I didn't think there would be a problem if we used Grandma's water for a weekend. Well, Poppy was fine all weekend and had a wonderful time meeting her Grandma. However, as soon as we arrived home (or shortly there after) she started spitting up like crazy.
Poppy spits up sometimes... I think most babies do. But this was the exception to that rule. She wouldn't STOP spitting up. It was constant! She wore about 5 different outfits a day, *reminds me of me!* but not because she wanted to be stylish (though I'm certain she did!). It was because she drenched every outfit in formula. Yuck. Poor baby!
One night, as I got overly emotional to my mom (what else is new!?), she suggested we go get gripe water and soy formula. I was lactose intolerant as a baby, and since the spitting up didn't stop after a normal amount of time, we thought we'd try soy.
Long story short: Gripe water worked, soy was returned, gripe stopped working, I regretted my decision, bought different formula (not soy), spitting up got worse than ever, tried to return un-used formula, cried in Wal-Mart as they told me I couldn't, went back to old formula, spitting up lessened, Jon tried to return Wal-Mart formula (didn't cry!), didn't work, I gave up, formula is in my trunk. I tried.
That's just the formula aspect of these last weeks! Poppy got a cold... and 'an eye infection'. (Or so I thought!)
Have you ever heard a 5-7 week old baby sneeze and sniffle and cry and cough? It's awful. Probably especially when it's your baby, but it's horrible. I cried. She cried. We all cried.
Wow, I cry a lot apparently! Thank you, hormones.
Okay... I'm blabbing.
I'm going to put it this way. I'm thankful the sniffling has stopped, Poppy has started sleeping, I have started sleeping as a result, I have stopped crying, the spitting up is muuuuch less... and Jon is done classes today!
Wooooooooohoooooooo!!! :)
Jon and I went to London a couple of weeks ago to visit Grandma! It was her first time meeting Poppy, and therefore we were all quite excited for the trip! Now, Poppy is used to our Culligan water for her bottles, and frankly, I didn't think there would be a problem if we used Grandma's water for a weekend. Well, Poppy was fine all weekend and had a wonderful time meeting her Grandma. However, as soon as we arrived home (or shortly there after) she started spitting up like crazy.
Poppy spits up sometimes... I think most babies do. But this was the exception to that rule. She wouldn't STOP spitting up. It was constant! She wore about 5 different outfits a day, *reminds me of me!* but not because she wanted to be stylish (though I'm certain she did!). It was because she drenched every outfit in formula. Yuck. Poor baby!
One night, as I got overly emotional to my mom (what else is new!?), she suggested we go get gripe water and soy formula. I was lactose intolerant as a baby, and since the spitting up didn't stop after a normal amount of time, we thought we'd try soy.
Long story short: Gripe water worked, soy was returned, gripe stopped working, I regretted my decision, bought different formula (not soy), spitting up got worse than ever, tried to return un-used formula, cried in Wal-Mart as they told me I couldn't, went back to old formula, spitting up lessened, Jon tried to return Wal-Mart formula (didn't cry!), didn't work, I gave up, formula is in my trunk. I tried.
That's just the formula aspect of these last weeks! Poppy got a cold... and 'an eye infection'. (Or so I thought!)
Have you ever heard a 5-7 week old baby sneeze and sniffle and cry and cough? It's awful. Probably especially when it's your baby, but it's horrible. I cried. She cried. We all cried.
Wow, I cry a lot apparently! Thank you, hormones.
Okay... I'm blabbing.
I'm going to put it this way. I'm thankful the sniffling has stopped, Poppy has started sleeping, I have started sleeping as a result, I have stopped crying, the spitting up is muuuuch less... and Jon is done classes today!
Wooooooooohoooooooo!!! :)
Sunday, November 28, 2010
(My) Life is Beautiful!
I love being a mom. My goal in life, for as long as I can remember, was to be a wife and a mother. I have literally been laughed hysterically at for saying that, but it's true. Always has been. I love kids!!! What more can I say?
Growing up, I was often referred to as the "Baby Whisperer", cause I could get babies to sleep like nobody's business! It's a nice title to have... especially when you can help out moms who are at their wits end.
But, I digress.
I love being a mom. Throughout my pregnancy, I hoped that I would still love to be a mom when it happened. You know how sometimes you get super excited about something, and then it turns out to be nothing like what you imagined? I hoped and prayed that would not be the case with motherhood. And thankfully, it wasn't!
However, anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE to be busy. I thrive when I'm busy! I love having places to be, people to see, people who rely on me being somewhere at a certain time and place. Before having Poppy, I had no idea just how much I loved that.
Another 'however', with a newborn, I certainly do have someone who needs me and who relies on me. But a lot of my everyday life (so far) is spent at home, not 'accomplishing' a heck of a lot.
Yeah, right.
Raising a beautiful little baby into what will hopefully become a strong, still beautiful, godly, young woman who will one day likely get married and have children of her own is QUITE a goal to set! And if that truly is what she becomes, then I dare say that's a heck of an accomplishment!
Today's society seems to think that if we don't make tons of money, work too many hours, get far too little sleep, (even though I do fall into that category!) or have some sort of public recognition for our daily accomplishments, that we're not truly living.
I beg to differ. Since the birth of Poppy, my life has never been more... dare I say... perfect. Don't get me wrong, my life is far from perfect in the truest sense of the word. But, I have a beautiful baby girl who I adore and who seems to adore me back (hehe), a godly, handsome, wonderful husband who I also adore and who I know adores me back (again - hehe), the same godly, handsome, wonderful husband who has a stable career giving my (so far) little family the opportunity for many adventures to come in our army life, a roof over our heads, food on our tables, families who love us all so much... I could go on. Best of all, Jon and I have the gift of salvation - something we both couldn't be more thankful for.
We pray every night, as we have since Poppy's conception, that one day, hopefully at a young age, she will come to know the Lord, to have a personal relationship with Him... to grow in love for him, and to continually grow to love him more every day of her life.
We are so blessed!!!
If you're thankful to God for the way he has blessed you, why don't you take a minute to tell him so?
Lord, thank you SO much for Jon and Poppy and all of the other blessings in my life. I am so undeserving, but You are so merciful and gracious, and for that I am and will be eternally grateful!
Growing up, I was often referred to as the "Baby Whisperer", cause I could get babies to sleep like nobody's business! It's a nice title to have... especially when you can help out moms who are at their wits end.
But, I digress.
I love being a mom. Throughout my pregnancy, I hoped that I would still love to be a mom when it happened. You know how sometimes you get super excited about something, and then it turns out to be nothing like what you imagined? I hoped and prayed that would not be the case with motherhood. And thankfully, it wasn't!
However, anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE to be busy. I thrive when I'm busy! I love having places to be, people to see, people who rely on me being somewhere at a certain time and place. Before having Poppy, I had no idea just how much I loved that.
Another 'however', with a newborn, I certainly do have someone who needs me and who relies on me. But a lot of my everyday life (so far) is spent at home, not 'accomplishing' a heck of a lot.
Yeah, right.
Raising a beautiful little baby into what will hopefully become a strong, still beautiful, godly, young woman who will one day likely get married and have children of her own is QUITE a goal to set! And if that truly is what she becomes, then I dare say that's a heck of an accomplishment!
Today's society seems to think that if we don't make tons of money, work too many hours, get far too little sleep, (even though I do fall into that category!) or have some sort of public recognition for our daily accomplishments, that we're not truly living.
I beg to differ. Since the birth of Poppy, my life has never been more... dare I say... perfect. Don't get me wrong, my life is far from perfect in the truest sense of the word. But, I have a beautiful baby girl who I adore and who seems to adore me back (hehe), a godly, handsome, wonderful husband who I also adore and who I know adores me back (again - hehe), the same godly, handsome, wonderful husband who has a stable career giving my (so far) little family the opportunity for many adventures to come in our army life, a roof over our heads, food on our tables, families who love us all so much... I could go on. Best of all, Jon and I have the gift of salvation - something we both couldn't be more thankful for.
We pray every night, as we have since Poppy's conception, that one day, hopefully at a young age, she will come to know the Lord, to have a personal relationship with Him... to grow in love for him, and to continually grow to love him more every day of her life.
We are so blessed!!!
If you're thankful to God for the way he has blessed you, why don't you take a minute to tell him so?
Lord, thank you SO much for Jon and Poppy and all of the other blessings in my life. I am so undeserving, but You are so merciful and gracious, and for that I am and will be eternally grateful!
Monday, November 22, 2010
"So... let's adopt the rest..."
At 3:40 am, on October 11, 2010, I woke up to some warm liquid in my bed. Dang... did I pee the bed, or was this go time??? I jumped out of bed, and the liquid kept coming. I sat on the toilet to get rid of the rest of it, and nothing came. I stood up, and it kept coming. I sat down again... nothing. Stood up, starting pouring again. By this point, I was quite sure that it was, in fact, my water breaking!
Excitedly, I waddled into our room and woke up Hubby. Much to my surprise, it didn't take the normal 20 minutes to get him to be slightly more than coherent. Within moments, he was up and at it with me, rearing and ready to go for our big adventure!
By this time, contractions had started coming every few minutes. I was so excited that my contractions were so close together, indicating that I would have a nice, short labour (like my mom!). I couldn't wait! I said to Hubby, "Babe, by noon today, we'll probably have our girl!" HA!
At 6:00 am, with contractions 2 minutes apart, and getting stronger and stronger, we made our way to the hospital. I waddled my way up to the Labour and Delivery floor, to be checked out by whoever would tell me how far along I was. By this point, the pain was majorly intense, and the contractions were still about 2 minutes apart. I couldn't wait to hear how far dilated I was.
Well, after almost an hour and a half of monitoring my contractions, they finally came to check out how far dilated I was. I was expecting to be at least half way there. Not a chance. The doctor let me know that I was all of 2 centimetres dilated. OUCH. How could I only be 2 centimetres after over 3 hours?
I was told to go home and relax, and to come back when I was ready. They offered me some drugs to make me feel a little better until I was ready to come back, so I got a combo of Gravol and morphene and they sent me home. I swear, it did nothing.
At home, my parents home, that is, the turkey was cooking for our Thanksgiving dinner. My brother and his fiancee, little brother, and both parents were all around to see me in my misery. Fiancee and Mom took care of keeping track of my contractions. Still about 2 minutes apart, and getting more and more intense as time passed.
Come about 11:00 am, my pain was bad enough and constant enough (2 minutes apart, lasting over a minute for each contraction), I was ready to go back to the hospital. The whole way in, I prayed I would be muuuuch further dilated than my original 2 centimetres. Well... I was a whopping 4 centimetres this time.
"Way to go! That's amazing - you're making such great progress!"
Ummm... yeah... whatever. Here I thought I was about 8 centimetres dilated... so 4 was a major disappointment!
At this point, after being in labour for about 9 hours, with the end nowhere in sight, I was ready for an epidural. I had initially decided that I would try to go all natural, but would just take it as it came. I think if my labour was about half as long, I would have been able to do it without the epidural... however, 4 cms after 9 hours was not what I was anticipating.
More time passed and I was put on Pitocin as well as my epidural. The epidural didn't take well, so they kept having to raise the dose. The Pitocin wasn't working, so they had to keep upping that dose as well! Finally, at 10:00 pm, I was allowed to start pushing.
I pushed. And pushed. And pushed... and pushed. For 2 hours, I pushed. No baby. The doctor came in and told us that he needed to check and see how Poppy's oxygen levels were because I had been pushing so long. After making multiple needle pricks in her head, they finally got enough blood to test. Apparently her oxygen levels weren't great, so it came to crunch time: Plan A) forceps, followed by Plan B) a C-Section if necessary.
Oh, what fun. All the way through my pregnancy I had said: "I don't care if I have to have a c-section... as long as it doesn't come after having been in labour for a million hours!"
And here I was, after being in labour for a million years, with the prospect of a c-section. Okay, I was going to push with ALL of my remaining energy (which now I am sooo impressed with myself for even having any energy at all!) and get this baby out with the forceps.
Somewhere around this point, after twenty-something hours of labour, I leaned over to Hubby and said, "So... let's adopt the rest...".
"You have three contractions to get her out, before we take you for a c-section."
Contraction 1: I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. No baby.
Contraction 2: I pushed. And puushed. And pushed. Baby came part way.
Now the excruciating part - waiting for the 2 minutes for my next contraction, so I could get baby out the rest of the way! Owwwwwwwwww!
Contraction 3: I pushed. She pulled (with all of her might). I pushed. She pullllleeeeddddd. I pushed. BABY!!!
12:50 am on October 12, 2010, the second love of my life entered into this world. What a beauty!!!
She is perfect.
Excitedly, I waddled into our room and woke up Hubby. Much to my surprise, it didn't take the normal 20 minutes to get him to be slightly more than coherent. Within moments, he was up and at it with me, rearing and ready to go for our big adventure!
By this time, contractions had started coming every few minutes. I was so excited that my contractions were so close together, indicating that I would have a nice, short labour (like my mom!). I couldn't wait! I said to Hubby, "Babe, by noon today, we'll probably have our girl!" HA!
At 6:00 am, with contractions 2 minutes apart, and getting stronger and stronger, we made our way to the hospital. I waddled my way up to the Labour and Delivery floor, to be checked out by whoever would tell me how far along I was. By this point, the pain was majorly intense, and the contractions were still about 2 minutes apart. I couldn't wait to hear how far dilated I was.
Well, after almost an hour and a half of monitoring my contractions, they finally came to check out how far dilated I was. I was expecting to be at least half way there. Not a chance. The doctor let me know that I was all of 2 centimetres dilated. OUCH. How could I only be 2 centimetres after over 3 hours?
I was told to go home and relax, and to come back when I was ready. They offered me some drugs to make me feel a little better until I was ready to come back, so I got a combo of Gravol and morphene and they sent me home. I swear, it did nothing.
At home, my parents home, that is, the turkey was cooking for our Thanksgiving dinner. My brother and his fiancee, little brother, and both parents were all around to see me in my misery. Fiancee and Mom took care of keeping track of my contractions. Still about 2 minutes apart, and getting more and more intense as time passed.
Come about 11:00 am, my pain was bad enough and constant enough (2 minutes apart, lasting over a minute for each contraction), I was ready to go back to the hospital. The whole way in, I prayed I would be muuuuch further dilated than my original 2 centimetres. Well... I was a whopping 4 centimetres this time.
"Way to go! That's amazing - you're making such great progress!"
Ummm... yeah... whatever. Here I thought I was about 8 centimetres dilated... so 4 was a major disappointment!
At this point, after being in labour for about 9 hours, with the end nowhere in sight, I was ready for an epidural. I had initially decided that I would try to go all natural, but would just take it as it came. I think if my labour was about half as long, I would have been able to do it without the epidural... however, 4 cms after 9 hours was not what I was anticipating.
More time passed and I was put on Pitocin as well as my epidural. The epidural didn't take well, so they kept having to raise the dose. The Pitocin wasn't working, so they had to keep upping that dose as well! Finally, at 10:00 pm, I was allowed to start pushing.
I pushed. And pushed. And pushed... and pushed. For 2 hours, I pushed. No baby. The doctor came in and told us that he needed to check and see how Poppy's oxygen levels were because I had been pushing so long. After making multiple needle pricks in her head, they finally got enough blood to test. Apparently her oxygen levels weren't great, so it came to crunch time: Plan A) forceps, followed by Plan B) a C-Section if necessary.
Oh, what fun. All the way through my pregnancy I had said: "I don't care if I have to have a c-section... as long as it doesn't come after having been in labour for a million hours!"
And here I was, after being in labour for a million years, with the prospect of a c-section. Okay, I was going to push with ALL of my remaining energy (which now I am sooo impressed with myself for even having any energy at all!) and get this baby out with the forceps.
Somewhere around this point, after twenty-something hours of labour, I leaned over to Hubby and said, "So... let's adopt the rest...".
"You have three contractions to get her out, before we take you for a c-section."
Contraction 1: I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. No baby.
Contraction 2: I pushed. And puushed. And pushed. Baby came part way.
Now the excruciating part - waiting for the 2 minutes for my next contraction, so I could get baby out the rest of the way! Owwwwwwwwww!
Contraction 3: I pushed. She pulled (with all of her might). I pushed. She pullllleeeeddddd. I pushed. BABY!!!
12:50 am on October 12, 2010, the second love of my life entered into this world. What a beauty!!!
She is perfect.
Welcome to My Life!
Two years ago in October, I met a very handsome army man, who showed up to my church's evening service. To make a long story short (though it will likely be expanded upon at a later date!), we fell wholly and madly in love in what seemed to be no time at all. By the end of January we were engaged to be married in August of 2009. One of the things I love most about this army man was his deep desire to be a father. We decided to wait until January, after being married for almost 6 months, to begin 'trying' for a baby.
Miraculously, and blessed beyond words, our first 'try' gave us the excitement of a positive pregnancy test! From that moment, we were excited beyond words to share our life with this growing little baby inside of me. For 9 months, I took folic acid and prenatal vitamins, ate what I should, stayed away from what I shouldn't, walked and walked and walked and walked, and took care of my body the best I possibly could. The excitement of little body parts jabbing me here and there was more than I could take - I was in a constant state of excitement... all the way to the very end.
Finally, I gave birth to a beautiful little girl on October 12, (Canadian) Thanksgiving weekend! Throughout my whole life, I have so desperately wanted to be a wife and a mother... and now I am both! Poppy, our little one, is an angel. From day one, she has been a sweet, cuddly, and content little girl. I am so in love with being a 'momma'!
Here, I would like to share the day to day activities and occurrences of me and my little one, as well as my army life.
Welcome to my life... grab a hot drink, get comfortable, and stay awhile!
Miraculously, and blessed beyond words, our first 'try' gave us the excitement of a positive pregnancy test! From that moment, we were excited beyond words to share our life with this growing little baby inside of me. For 9 months, I took folic acid and prenatal vitamins, ate what I should, stayed away from what I shouldn't, walked and walked and walked and walked, and took care of my body the best I possibly could. The excitement of little body parts jabbing me here and there was more than I could take - I was in a constant state of excitement... all the way to the very end.
Finally, I gave birth to a beautiful little girl on October 12, (Canadian) Thanksgiving weekend! Throughout my whole life, I have so desperately wanted to be a wife and a mother... and now I am both! Poppy, our little one, is an angel. From day one, she has been a sweet, cuddly, and content little girl. I am so in love with being a 'momma'!
Here, I would like to share the day to day activities and occurrences of me and my little one, as well as my army life.
Welcome to my life... grab a hot drink, get comfortable, and stay awhile!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)