Originally Posted 5/19/11

June 3, 2011 - Leave a Response

124.
That is what I weighed the day I went to the doctor to find out i was with child. Over the past 18 months (18 months?!?) I have watched my weight reach heights I never imagined and then return to a relative state of normalcy after Austen made her exit.

Let me tell ya something. They say 9 months on, 9 months off–pssh. Let me clarify. Some things. Will. Never. Be. The. Same.

I will never forget mustering the courage to lift my shirt and inspect my inflated belly for the first time. I think I honestly expected to see Mother theresa or an old man face in the abundance of wrinkles that were surely there. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised. Thanks to my new milk-laden boobs, my waist looked surprisingly small. It took a few months for everything to settle into a new definition of normal.

My current weight is just a few pound shy of the number on the scale two Decembers ago. However, my jeans do not fit. My bras do not fit. I have a road map of stretch marks and varicose veins. The truth is….this is the new me. I have real hips now. A body that tells a story.

Now I am not going to sit here and type some mama mantra about how I love my body because it gave birth to my daughter. I am grateful that God provided me with a healthy vehicle to bring her into the world. However, I would not say that I love my newfound muffin top or the loss of the ablity to go bra-less. I can say, however, that I have reached a point of acceptance. This is what I have to work with. My husband likes it, it looks kinda cute dressed up, and it still carries Austen just about everywhere.

As with every single facet of my life, my body did not escape the effects of motherhood. And thats ok. 🙂

Originally Posted 5/14/11

June 3, 2011 - Leave a Response

I am baby free!

Wait. Shouldn’t I be doing something fabulous? Drinking red wine on some patio while reading a novel on my iPad. Or getting my hair done and meeting friends for lunch. Perhaps taking a hike with my husband before we go out to a fantastic dinner.

Well, folks. That is just not the scene I have going on here. As is a theme lately, Chad is at work. I have cleaned this house pretty thoroughly (whens the last time you soaked and scrubbed those little plates under your stove burners?). I took a nap. Made some pasta. Now what?

I find that my life has settled into a little groove…and I like it best when my husband and littlest girl are grooving with me. When they are gone, my first thought is–sleep! But once that is done I find myself a little lost. Because, quite frankly, anything thing i think to do seems worth saving to do with Chad. I guess thats why I married him. I really do love him with my whole entire heart.

As far as Austen is concerned, it is nice to leave the house without packing 8374928734 things. And letting my mom change diapers for awhile doesn’t suck. But really, one day away is enough. Today she is one day closer to walking, running, growing up. Call me selfish, but i don’t like sharing her.

I am going to go force myself to do something I could only enjoy alone (unfortunately shopping is not an option. Damn you, budget.). Ideas?

Originally Posted 5/11/11

June 3, 2011 - Leave a Response

I have not loved motherhood the past few days. I love Austen. Lots and lots. However, her complete disregard for sleep has really begun to wear on me.

It occurred to me how far on this journey we have come when I ran into the worlds cutest pre go lady today on my walk. Ohmygosh. You should have seen her and her little basketball belly. When she said she had just 3 weeks left (yep. I stopped her and tried to make her be my best friend because she was that great) I seriously wanted to hug her an tell her to go home and take a nap. Because, I remember those days. When I would stretch a cute little tank top over my swollen bump and walk the dog so people could see me in my motherly glory (or, seeing how Austen was born in august, in my motherly sweat). Tonight, I was walking the dog in the same leggings I wore yesterday while pushing my 9 month old all over the neighborhood attempting to wear her out. I felt my face get all red and stingy when I noticed her noticing the green beans smushed on my pants.

You guys know our issues with sleep. Add to that the fact that Chad has literally become a slave to the restaurant this week (shout out to Mindy Houston whose baby daddy has also been swept up the chaos…the end is near!) and that we are deep in the throws of the “mommy attached” stage and I find myself trying to rememeber the days when I thought I was as rested as I could ever be…bring on that baby! Well, how times have changed my friends. Because, this weekend Austen is going to Grammys and I, well, I am going to sleeeeeep. Bring on that wine, fluffy pillow, and uninterrupted showers!

Sometimes I feel guilty for needing a break but then my mom says awesome things to me like “you can only be her best mommy when you’re rested and happy”. And I want to kiss her on the face. Then I get kinda squishy thinking about how one day I can comfort Austen that way…and i love motherhood again! Ahhhhhh.

 

Originally Posted January 30, 2011

June 3, 2011 - Leave a Response

“No matter how careful you are, there’s going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience it all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should’ve been paying attention. Well, get used to that feeling. That’s how your whole life will feel some day. This is all practice.”
— Chuck Palahniuk

I wrote this quote down in a journal a long, long time ago and tonight I came across it again. This blog is intended to be about Austen Lily, but this post in particular is more about the (my) journey to motherhood. I remember when I first read this quote, it seemed wistful to think of how one day, the fabulous life I was leading, would all seem like a distant memory. The idea of it was quite abstract to me–I knew that one day we would all change course, the parties would end, and there would be a decision we all made to settle down.

Well, as seems to be the case with most aspects of my life, that grand change did not go quite the way I envisioned it–and was not nearly as far off in the future as I had imagined. I got pregnant. I quit my job(s). I had a beautiful baby girl. I got married. I made decisions, lots of very big, irreversible decisions. And tonight, after a hell of a whirlwind, I revisted the girl who sat in her apartment in University(just ask Alason, that really was the best little apartment) and wrote down quotes about how life was going to fly by, all the while being pretty certain that it would never slip past me–after all, I read the quote. I was prepared.

Well, I have that sunken feeling Mr. Palahniuk describes. I feel like I did not appreciate so many of the little moments that lead up to the life I now have. I feel like I did not spend nearly enough time counting the tiny kicks in my ribs and eating ice cream over the sink at midnight. I was reminded today, when holding Mindy’s sweet baby Brad, that I did not stare at Austen’s quivering newborn lip nearly enough. Nor did I cherish the moments when I nursed her at 3 am and tried to stifle my laughs as I watched informercials about the shake weight. All of these moments that seem so fleeting–and that was just the past six months. Theres an entire lifetime before that of tiny things that I forgot to notice.

Today, at the park, Liz’s fearless little girl, Adalai, tried a trick on the jungle gym that was…well, a bit too tricky. She landed flat on her back and the instant she hit, I knew the feeling that overcame her. That feeling when you hit the cold, hard ground and all the air escapes your lungs. For a split second, you really wonder and worry if you will breathe again. You look around, like Addie did, for someone to hold you and breathe for you until you can regain your bearings. Seeing her struggle to stop stifle her tears, all to aware of the power of embarassment at her tender age, I knew exactly how she felt. It occurred to me, while reading that college journal, that I have sort of been living in a perpetual state of waiting to breathe again. I have been fearful of what turns my life has taken. When I was pregnant, I held my breathe until I held that sweet girl. But as soon as my lungs were full, they emptied again as I lay awake in my bed–anticipating her next cries. Since then, it has simply been one thing after another. My “breathing” has been labored and I have been so focused on making sure that each moment goes according to plan, that I fear I have been failing to actually live those moments.

Chad constantly chides me for my picture taking. He tells me that I am missing the moment in an attempt to capture it. To an extent, I know he is correct. But I read that quote. I know that one day, there will be a feeling that I missed it all–that I never quite caught my breath. I guess I feel that in those moments I will look at the pictures and I will somehow be there again. Although, as much as I stare at this picture–I know that moment, so many beautiful moments with wonderful people (i hope, i dearly hope, you all know how much you have meant to me and how much you still do), are beyond my grasp.

Hello world!

May 25, 2010 - One Response

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