Stretch Marks

Stretch Marks

Not my belly… but isn’t it gorgeous?

The other morning I got out of the shower and leaned over to wrap my long, curly hair into a towel and couldn’t help but notice the stretch marks on my belly.

These were the same stretch marks I was convinced I didn’t have when I was pregnant with my daughter 17+ years ago. I kept looking for them in the mirror, but to my utter amazement – I didn’t have any! Or so I thought…

The illusion was broken when I was about eight months pregnant and marveling at my changing body in front of the mirror again. Only this time, my husband was in the room.

Me: “I can’t believe I don’t have any stretch marks! I mean, my belly is HUGE! I would have expected there to be a ton of them! But nope, not one.”

Him: “Ummm… I think you have some down here” (pointing low on each side of my belly) “Whoa! there’s a bunch of them… you just can’t see them.”

And he was right. My belly had gotten so big that that it had begun to cast a shadow and all of my stretch marks were hiding – on the dark side of the moon.

After my initial shock (which really wasn’t warranted… there was no way that my belly could have gotten as big as it did without stretching enough to leave a mark!) I’ve never given my stretch marks a second thought. After all, they’re not that big, they’ve faded over time and aren’t very noticeable, and besides, I don’t regret any of them because they mark me as a mother.

I’d forgotten they were even there, to be honest.  But the other morning as I stood bent over, eye-to-stretch mark, I couldn’t miss them. And suddenly, I had a thought about how a different type of stretch mark is happening to me right now.  It’s one that no one else can see, but it marks me as a mother just the same.

My oldest daughter – the OG stretch mark maker, herself – left on Thursday to go halfway around the world to perform with her dance company, The Jefferson Dancers. They’re in the South of France (Ooh! La! La!) for ten days.

It’s my heart that’s being stretched right now – and it’s going to leave a mark for sure.

I don’t have the typical angst that you might think would go along with kissing your “baby” goodbye as she heads to a timezone that’s 9 hours ahead. I know her to be a mature, strong, smart young woman and I know she’ll come home with amazing stories to tell and wonderful memories to last her a lifetime.

It’s just that this trip signifies something more. My girl is almost grown and out of the house.

My first little bird is getting ready to fly away.

As I typed that last sentence, I paused to see what feelings this brought up for me…

No sadness – just deep, abiding joy and pride at who my girl has become. And this: how amazing to think she still has so much life left to live. So many more memories to make and stories to tell. So many chapters yet to be written.

As I get ready to head home to see my own family later this month, I can’t help but wonder what it was like for my parents as they watched all of their little birds fly away. Some, not too far, but me? Two plane rides and a 3-hour time zone away!

None of us thought this was going to be forever! It was supposed to be a one-year commitment with The Jesuit Volunteer Corps. But almost 25 years later, here I am getting ready for the first of my own four to stretch her wings and soar.

~~~~~~~

I spent the entire weekend teaching expectant parents. Saturday was a one-day express childbirth preparation class, focused on providing these families with realistic expectations about birth. Sunday, was my first ever Becoming Us class, where the focus was on realistic expectations of the transition to parenthood and how to keep the couple relationship strong despite of, maybe as a result of, the normal changes and challenges of new parenting.

I could see the stretch marks on these parents as they wrapped their minds around all that’s involved in the birth process or what it really means to become a parent.

But how can I express to them what is yet to come? Soooooo much stretching!

They will be marked and marked again on their parenting journey: the day they drop their baby off at preschool; the late night worry they’ll feel when their baby is sick; the piercing cry they can’t stop hearing after their toddler’s spectacular wipeout; the good ache that comes from a heart full of pride as they watch their child do something amazing; the bad ache that comes from a heart breaking right along with theirs as their child feels the sting of rejection; the recognition that, if you’ve done this parenting thing right, eventually… they leave.

I love my stretch marks, all of them – maybe those not visible to the naked eye most of all. For they’re a reminder that I have birthed my babies not just from my body, but out and into this great big world. A reminder that mirrors why I’m still so passionate about the work I do with parents who may not have discovered any physical stretch marks (yet!) The parenting journey begins when a family says yes to welcoming a child into their hearts. And from that day on, it never ends. It never breaks down…it just stretches on and on.

PS – I got to talk with my girl at my 11:41 pm my time to 8:41 am her time just as I was putting the finishing edits on this post. It’s a weird thing this stretching – my heart is so full, I sometimes think it might burst. But it doesn’t, it just stretches a little bit more.

Do you have stretch marks? Are they purely physical, or can you relate to the idea of “emotional stretch marks” as well? I’d love to hear what you think about this – please leave me a comment, or share this post with anyone who might appreciate it. PS – I appreciate YOU!

It’s Been A Long Day…

Long Day

One morning, I called my Mom, almost in tears, saying that I’d already yelled at my kids “at least 25 times” that day and it was only half past nine in the morning! I asked how she’d done it with twice as many kids as me, and without ever yelling at any of us.

“What?” she’d asked incredulously. And I’d responded, “I don’t ever remember you even raising your voice at us.” And my wonderful Momma laughed out loud for a full five minutes before saying, “That’s what you’d call ‘having a selective memory’, sweetheart!”

Then she shared with me some epic tales of losing it and going off on us kids (none of which I remembered) and then told me something important: “Honey, when your children are small the truth of the matter is that the days are long, but the years are short.”

And now that I have one child talking about college, the two in the middle are rocking their High School & Middle School years, and my youngest is turning eight (tomorrow!) – I’d have to agree with her.

I was teaching this past weekend to a room full of expectant parents who must have thought I was crazy when I told them how jealous I was of them. But, seriously, I am.

I don’t envy the sleepless nights, the sore nipples, or the diaper changes to come. And to be sure, age three was unbelievably hard for me! (ALL four times!) No, I don’t have hazy, rose-colored memories of parenting infants and toddlers.

I vividly remember being attached at the hip to at least one of my babies all day long and what it felt like when the only hours that belonged to me were either those when I was sleeping or when I was alone in the bathroom without one of my children walking in on me, or asking me a litany of questions through the closed door.

(In all honesty, these bathroom moments continue to be few and far between…)

But I do envy expectant parents the opportunity to be transformed by the awesome power of birth: to find a strength that has yet to be tapped, and a vulnerability that has yet to be explored. I am jealous that they get to discover a whole new person they never even new existed inside themselves being born on the same day as they welcome their new baby.

I love being a Momma and my kids are absolute gifts in my life. But parenting has been, by far, the hardest job I’ve ever had! And on the eve of my “baby’s” 8th birthday, I’m starting to appreciate the nostalgia expressed by parents who are no longer in that intense phase of parenting little, littles.

You know what I’m talking about…

You’re in the middle of Target with a 6-year-old who always manages to be where you can’t see her, a 3-year-old who keeps trying to get out of his seat in the shopping cart, and a newborn who’s decided that NOW! is the perfect moment to have her first real meltdown and is screaming inconsolably.

As you struggle to wrestle the baby out of the front-pack carrier, unhook your bra with one hand, corral the other two and sit down in the middle of the storage container aisle to feed your baby, you catch the eye of an older woman walking past. She sees your frustration rising to a breaking point, walks over, gives your arm a tight squeeze and says, “You’ll miss all of this one day! They grow up too fast!”

And in that moment, you can’t decide if you want to hug her – or punch her in the face!

(This may or may not have happened to me about 11 years ago…)

What does she mean?! She can’t possibly mean that she wishes to switch places with you (she doesn’t). Or that she longs for the days when her children were all moving in different directions and demanding so much energy, time, and attention that she remembers feeling like she never had enough for herself (she doesn’t).

But maybe with the passage of time, she’s realized the wisdom in my mother’s words: the days are long (and let’s face it – some days longer than others!) but the years are oh-so-short! And maybe she too, has a somewhat “selective memory” when it comes to what it was like to have babies and toddlers underfoot. Maybe she honestly forgets (or chooses to, anyway) all that made that time in her life so challenging and instead focuses her attention on all that she loved about that time as well:

~ the softness of her newborn’s cheek

~ the delicious smell of her baby’s head

~ the dimples of her toddler’s hands

~ the chubby feet and rolls upon rolls of her little one’s thighs

~ the sing-song call of “Mommy! Mooooooommmmmmy!”

She doesn’t envy you those incredibly long days. But, maybe she wishes that she could freeze time for the days that went by too fast. It is a blessing for us all that selective memory exists when it comes to parents – and children. 

This selective memory allows us to decide what we choose to focus on. I really cannot remember my Mom raising her voice at us – in fact, as I got older, she mastered the use of lowering her voice for emphasis to great effect!

But this imperfect recording of my childhood gives me hope! Maybe the same will be true for my own children. Maybe they’ll also have a selective memory of their childhood and focus mostly on just how much I loved them, not on how often I failed to show it because my temper or my impatience got the better of me – and I lost it once or twice. Or more.

This is my hope for all of you Mommas out there who’ve had that moment of regret – that you weren’t “perfect” in your parenting today. And if today has been incredibly long, may tomorrow be easier, but not necessarily shorter. And may you and your children have beautiful and imperfect memories of your day-to-day together, and instead someday feel wistful and nostalgic for those years that went by too fast.

Does this ring true for you in your parenting? It does for me… I’d love it if you’d share your comments. And I found this super cool Amy Winehouse song that I don’t think has ever been released… But it seems so fitting to the topic, that I offer it to you here

Why I No Longer Care If My House Is Clean…

Dusty

Let’s be real… I’ve never cared if my house is clean. But once I started having children, the pretty low standards I began with kind of bottomed out.

YAY! I’ve been published again on the parenting website, Red Tricycle! Please click here to read the rest of my article and then share it widely with those who you think might want to read it. And I’d really love it if you’d comment below if you feel like cleaning has taken a back seat to your parenting (“Misery loves company!” or maybe, “There’s solidarity in numbers!” – ??? In any case, it will make me feel a lot better about the state of my house if I know I’m not the ONLY one.)

One Is The Loneliest Number…

one-is-lonely

Being a mom is lonely…why is making mom friends so hard? I swear it’s worse then dating. Pretty sure I’m just going to throw in the towel on having a social life until I’m old and retired and can play wheelchair races with other loner stinkies down the nursing home hallways. Raise your hand if wine is your best mom friend these days.

This was the post I read the other day on an online Facebook page that I lurk on. By “lurking,” I mean that I’m a member, but rarely do I post anything. The group is supposed to exist as a means of support for today’s super-connected new Mommas. But when I read some of the responses to posts members have written, they feel anything but supportive.

I’m not bashing the Admins for the FB page. I believe they work hard to police any comments that are out of line with the quote prominently displayed on their banner: “Whatever you do, do with kindness. Whatever you say, say with kindness. Wherever you go, radiate kindness.” (Jonathan Lockwood Huie) But when you have 15K+ members, it’s hard to keep up.

I believe that being a new Momma today is much, much harder than it was when I had my first baby 17 1/2 years ago. And the number one reason, in my opinion, is: Social Media.

Now, before you think that I’m going to tear into how “social media is the devil” and that we would all be “better off without our faces glued to a screen” – I’m not. I’m not much of a ranter, in general, but if I went on a rant about social media, it would make me a hypocrite.

I share rich and robust connections with people all over the globe… that I only know online. There are a few whom I feel incredibly close to – even though we’ve never met, or even talked on the phone! So, no… social media is not some sort of demon that we all need to try and exorcise from our lives.

Motherhood on its own is one of the toughest gigs around. But add a little social media to mothering and you’ve just made it that much harder. Here are a few reasons why I think this is so:

  • It’s too easy to sit at your dining room table and “connect” with other people online instead of getting out of the house as a new Momma to interact with people face-to-face. (Important to note that this can lead to all sorts of issues: increased feelings of isolation, increased risk of PMADs, a lack of conversational skills with someone other than your non-verbal infant, or your partner) 
  • A lack of conversational skills can make any attempts to connect with people in the real world seem super weird and awkward. (“Hi – do you want to be my new Momma friend?”) 
  • Interaction with others online only, means miscommunication is bound to happen! (“Did she just say that to me? I can’t believe she just said that to me!”) 
  • Engaging in interactions with others that are not face-to-face can be socially dangerous. (Not being able to read body language and facial expressions, means you might not understand the meaning behind the comment: they meant to convey humor or sarcasm, you interpreted it as mean and hurtful.) 
  • It’s also too easy to feel defensive about a parenting choice you’ve made and then go into attack mode if you feel your decision has been challenged by someone else – especially if they’re just a name and a profile picture on a screen. (Making parenting decisions almost always leaves you feeling a little bit uncertain and defensive. And we often will “say” things online that we would never say to a person standing in front of us.) 
  • People don’t usually share their parenting fails – or any other fails, really – online. (The virtual world is where most of us present only our very best selves, leaving out the not-so-glamorous details of our everyday life. This can lead others who might be struggling to believe that they’re not good enough, strong enough, smart enough, pretty enough… to be able to do this Momma thing “right.”) 
  • While we all know that perfection is just an ideal, and not something that exists in reality, it’s hard to be okay with your imperfections when others are not willing to reveal any of their own. (This is what I like to call “The Curse of the Pinterest Parent.”) 
  • Despite all of this, we continue to persist in trying to make these online only “connections” with others – but we also continue to be surprised by the result. (Relationships that don’t feel very deep or authentic; relationships that end up being not very satisfying and leave us wanting something more…) 
  • It’s no wonder then that the current generation is one with the most connected group of people in history reporting the highest levels of loneliness and isolation.

Wow. How’d we get here? But more importantly, how can we get out of here?

The feelings of vulnerability that get stirred up during pregnancy are intense and very unsettling. Everything seems to be changing: our bodies, our relationships, our feelings about the world, our identities as individuals and as a couple – and there doesn’t seem to be anyplace where we can find sure footing.

It’s one thing to make decisions for ourselves, but now we’re making decisions for our baby – and we really don’t want to screw this up! We’ve either had:  A) the greatest mother in the world, which is fantastic – but an incredibly tough act to follow! or B) the crappiest mother in the world, which is awful – and we’re desperate to not repeat her sins. Either way, there’s an awful lot of pressure to be the best parent EVER!

I’ve talked often about the need to find your parenting tribe . It’s not necessarily easy, but it is easily one of the most important tasks of pregnancy and parenting preparation. And even if you’ve already had your baby, but still don’t have your tribe, then I encourage you to get out there and find them – in person!

This might sound challenging – but it’s completely worth it, I promise. Go to where other new parents hang out. There are usually New Parent groups in most communities – check them out! Usually the first couple of visits are either free, or super cheap to attend, so there’s no real investment, other than your time.

These groups are usually run by a facilitator who can help the group learn one another’s names and provide some ice breakers or discussion topics for people to weigh in on. It might take a month or more of weekly hanging out for you to make a connection, and it may only be with one or two others, but it’s a start. And even if it does feel eerily similar to dating  (Noooooooooooo!), hang in there. Going out for coffee after or meeting up early to take a walk before the group starts can give you a little bit of time to get to know one another better and see if you’re a good “fit.”

Sign up for some sort of “baby and me” class – music, messy art, reading at the library – or just go hang out at the park. Parks exist for one reason only: so parents can gather, commiserate and let their kiddos run wild and so as to not destroy the house! (I realize there are lots of other reasons… This is just the one that saved my sanity when my kiddos were small.)

But here’s the part that might be hard for some of the Mommas in this generation to hear… While you’re hanging out, trying to meet other new Mommas – Put the damn phone DOWN! Interact with your baby and the world that surrounds you. Be present. Look up and smile at another new Momma – she’s probably feeling exactly the same way you are. Strike up a conversation – about how cute her baby is, or where she got the killer stroller, or how crappy the weather’s been lately…

But after the small talk, get real.

Real connection does not occur when we hide who we really are. Real connection with another human being only happens if we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. You don’t have to dump on your new potential BFF, but it’s also okay to reveal a little bit about yourself that shows her you’re human, you’re not perfect. This can disarm her and her natural tendency toward defensiveness as a new Momma.

What’s the worst that could happen? You might get shot down… And if you do? That’s okay, you’re just not a good fit. But what if she responds with,“I feel the same way!” Well, then my friends you’ve got the start of something beautiful – a new friendship that is based upon shared circumstances, similar parenting styles, and cute babies that you really hope will like one another as they grow up. The potential to make life-long friends is there for the taking as a new parent – it’s just going to require a little bit of effort.

But please, please don’t give up…

The Momma who wrote that FB post did something that others might have thought a little crazy – but I thought it was beautiful and brave. She opened herself up and expressed her vulnerability about not having many new Momma friends – and she did it online, which is very taboo. And do you know what happened? As of this writing, she’s received 73 really positive and encouraging comments from other Mommas who are looking to make real, face-to-face connections. She started an online thread for all of these other women to share their own feelings of loneliness as new Mommas and it looks as if there will be meet-ups happening all over the city!

My hope is that these women make connections with one another and begin building their LIVE tribe of new parent friends – those who will be honest with one another about the challenges of parenting, and willing to share their epic parenting fails. When we realize we’re not alone on this new parenting journey, it can be so helpful!  Because trying to do this parenting thing without your tribe is hard and one can be the loneliest number.

How are you feeling in this age of “connection?” Hooked-up and well engaged? Or lonely and in need of a friend? Where did you/will you find your tribe?

For an added bonus check out this video from Three Dog Night from 1969… It’s so good in all the bad ways.

In My Humble Opinion…

bees

So, the world of birth is abuzz this month as ACOG (The American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists) has released their newest Committee Opinion: “Approaches to Limit Interventions During Labor and Birth.”

This opinion might have left some scratching their head and saying, “Duh!” But I want to jump up and down squealing with joy! I think this is a fantastic step in the right direction from the OB/GYN leaders of America. They’re asking their members to consider: “If a pregnant Momma is low-risk, how can we keep her low-risk?”

The answer is: “Don’t intervene unless it’s medically necessary!”

I’m going to break down the recommendations and conclusions section of this Committee Opinion for you here, because there are lots of big, fancy words – and you might appreciate my attempt at a simpler translation. Also, we know that when information comes from people who wear white coats and carry stethoscopes around their necks, it sometimes carries more weight – even if we’ve already heard this same information from different sources. Just saying… In our culture, there’s a hierarchy when it comes to medical advice and opinion – evidence or bias, be damned!

So, this is not a perfect translation (and my editorial comments are included in italics) but in a nutshell here’s what the ACOG has stated in it’s Committee Opinion, Number 687 for February 2017: Approaches to Limit Interventions in Labor and Birth.

  • If a woman is between 39-41 weeks, and is in labor that’s started on its own, and has a baby that’s head down, the use of intermittent fetal monitoring and unmedicated comfort and coping techniques is a good idea. (Full-term according to ACOG. Intermittent – the fancy word that means there are breaks in between periods of monitoring.)
  • If a woman is still in early labor, she doesn’t have to come to the hospital right away as long as she and the baby are doing okay. It’d be great if she was offered frequent contact and support, as well as unmedicated comfort and coping techniques. (See what I wrote here, here and here (It’s a 3-part series!) about how to stay comfortable and pass the time of early labor at home before coming into the hospital.)
  • When women come into the hospital in early labor due to pain or exhaustion, they should be offered education and support, water to drink, encouraged to try various positions that might provide more comfort, and other unmedicated comfort and coping techniques like massage and how using the shower or sitting in warm water can be very helpful. (Hydrotherapy – the fancy word for drinking water, showering and/or sitting in the tub – are great ideas for comfort and can also help labor progress!)
  • OBs and other providers should inform those women whose water has broken at the onset of labor about any risks associated with waiting for labor to start on its own. If there are no other reasons to be concerned for the baby’s health, an informed woman can choose, and should be supported in her choice, to wait for labor to start on it’s own. The exception would be if a woman has tested positive for Group B Strep – antibiotics shouldn’t be delayed, and there may be a preference from both the provider and laboring woman to induce labor immediately, rather than wait for it to start on its own. (Many providers already use “expectant management of labor” – the fancy word for “watching and waiting,” but more providers might now be encouraged to wait before inducing immediately if water breaks at the start of labor.)
  • Evidence suggests that in addition to regular nursing care, continuous one-to-one emotional support is associated with improved outcomes for women in labor. (YAY DOULAS! And partners, and Grandmas, and BFFs and… DOULAS! You can read my post here about how a doula can be a great addition to your birth team.)
  • For women with a labor that’s progressing and a baby that’s doing well, routine breaking of the bag of waters is not necessary unless needed for internal monitoring. (Amniotomy – the fancy word for breaking the bag of waters before it has broken on its own – is often suggested as a way to “speed things up” but can be associated with more interventions and increased risk for Cesarean Birth if it doesn’t work.)
  • In order to promote intermittent monitoring, hospitals should adopt protocols and train staff on how to use hand-held Doppler monitors for low-risk women who would prefer this type of monitoring. (This one even surprised me! I thought they would suggest using the external monitoring belts less frequently, but hand-held Dopplers would be a fantastic improvement over current practice. So much easier and comfortable for laboring Mommas!)
  • Using a coping scale and the use of medicated and unmedicated coping techniques will help providers tailor interventions to meet the needs of each woman. (Some hospitals have already adopted the use of a coping scale instead of a pain scale, but this little tool can be very helpful in changing the mindset of a laboring woman from focusing on the level of pain she’s feeling to whether or not she’s coping well.)
figure-1-the-pain-intensity-scale-0-to-10-adapted-from-wong-baker-faces-pain-rating

Figure 1. The Pain Intensity Scale: 0 to 10. Adapted from “Wong-Baker Faces Pain Rating Scale”

coping

Figure 2. The Pain Coping Scale: 10 to 0, developed to assess coping during labor and birth. Adapted from “Wong-Baker Faces Pain Rating Scale”

  • As long as there are no complications and fetal monitoring is still possible, a woman should be encouraged and supported to change positions often during labor – it will make her feel more comfortable and will help move the baby into the best position for birth. (Being upright and changing positions as often as possible, for as long as possible, allows babies to make all the twists and turns necessary to be born.)
  • Women should be encouraged to use whatever kind of pushing technique she likes and is most effective. (Gone are the days of telling women to assume certain positions and hold their breath for ten seconds! Yeehah!)
  • Unless it’s medically necessary to deliver quickly, women (especially those with an epidural) can be offered a period of rest before pushing – unless she feels a strong urge to push sooner. (“Laboring down” is a really nice way to allow your body to catch up with your labor. Your contractions might have already opened your cervix all the way, but until your baby moves down into a better position for birth, pushing just because “You’re 10 cm dilated – let’s go!” might not be as effective and could lengthen the overall time of pushing, causing undue exhaustion.)

Can you see why I’m so excited about this Committee Opinion?! It aligns so beautifully with what I know to be true for women in labor. Interventions are not “bad” and can be life-saving in certain circumstances.

But if we limit the routine use of these interventions and only use them when medically necessary, we are protecting the normal physiology of birth. And this will result in better outcomes for Mommas and babies.

I am so heartened by this statement from the ACOG and excited to see the impact this will have for laboring women and birth in this country. My sincere hope is that members of ACOG will review their own personal practice based on this Committee Opinion and see where they might step back from intervening too soon or too often. I also hope that pregnant women will read this and know that they should talk with their provider about limiting the use of intervention in their own pregnancy and birth.

Knowledge is power. Be informed.

(You can access the entire ACOG Committee Opinion here in all of its medical terminology, further explanation and extensively cited form. It’s a great read, in my humble opinion…)

On Motherhood and Feeling “Trapped”

trapped

Before anyone gets triggered by the title of this post, let me explain what’s been happening in my little corner of the world. I live in Portland, Oregon. A city that has, on average, almost 42 inches of rain a year. We’re used to the gray clouds and wet stuff falling from the sky. Heck, most original Portlanders (or those of us who’ve lived here 20+ years) don’t even carry umbrellas! We just suck it up and keep on moving. In comparison, we usually only get about 4.5 inches of snow.

But a week ago, over a foot of snow dropped in less than 24 hours and our beautiful city was covered in a blanket of white. When it became completely obvious that we would not be having school the following morning, I dug around in our basement for all the snow gear and the sleds and we hit our local park and its fantastic hill for 2+ hours of night sledding – the best way to sled in my opinion. The hills weren’t super fast yet, but it was magical!

The next day, we hit the hill again for some more of the same. (Did I mention that I love sledding more than anyone I know – including my own kids? I’m always the last one ready to leave. As long as my feet, head and hands are warm, I’ll stay out in this stuff all day long!)

Well, I started talking smack at the top of the hill about how “I’ll still be sledding when I’m 70!” and how I wished the snow was icier “so we could go faster!” and I even asked a fellow parent to wax up the sled for me… My 7-year-old was ready to go home, but I convinced him to go with me for one last run.

I lined us up at the top of the hill, but my patience with having to wait for our turn was really being stretched. (Did I also mention that impatience is my worst character flaw?) In order to not have to wait another second and barrel down the hill NOW!, I made a rookie mistake and moved us to the far left, where no one else was sledding, and we went flying down the hill – and straight toward the 4-inch round metal pole that held up the baseball diamond backstop. (Oh, this is why there was no line…)

I tried to steer us to the right and away from the pole, but the sled wouldn’t budge. I thought about bailing, but my son hasn’t mastered the art of this technique yet and I was concerned he wouldn’t get off with me. So, at the last moment and in an effort to avoid having my little guy crack his head open, I did this sort of full-body twist and my left leg smashed into the pole. The pain was intense and made me catch my breath. But just like Mommas the world over, I immediately checked in with Félix to make sure he was okay – not a scratch, phew!

Then I tried to get up – whoa. I was able to put some weight on it, so I knew I hadn’t broken my leg, but I’d certainly injured myself significantly and we headed for home.

By the time we were coming through the front door, whatever initial shock that had allowed me to walk the three blocks home wore off and the tears started to fall. Then my son got upset because he knew it must be bad if I was crying. A week later, I’m still hobbling – the multicolored bruise on my leg is spectacular and extends from just above my knee to just below my hip.

But that’s not the only thing that’s been bruised.

My spirit is young and feeling as though my body can’t keep up with it hit me hard this past week. I really DO want to go flying down that hill when I’m 70! So, I ice the crap out of my leg, I elevate it, I take Arnica, and I try to heal so that maybe I’ll be able to do that someday. Yet, I still feel trapped by my body – unable to do a lot of the things that I would normally be doing. Initially, I could barely walk. But even a week later, I’m slow, I’m still in pain. I have to be patient and ask for help – not my strong points.

And I’m trapped inside my house as the roads and sidewalks are still covered with ice and snow because the temperature hasn’t gotten above freezing and none of this stuff is melting.

My kids are on day #9 of no school. I’m the one that would have been on the hill every single day this past week – if only I could. My kids are over it. They don’t even want to play in the snow. And I’m so sad that I can’t. So, I end up feeling trapped in my role of Momma (this is a community-wide sentiment if my FB feed is any indication!)

Not that I don’t love my kiddos – I do, madly. But there are so many things that fall to the back burner when I’m in Momma mode… like the maintenance of this blog for one. I’ve been busy this past month doing lots of work on projects that thrill me – including turning this blog into a (gulp!) actual website – more details on that later… But it’s super hard to sit and write when I can hear all of my littles in the background.

I’m used to having a few precious hours of quiet on a weekly basis so I can think and put a few words on the page. I’m writing today with headphones on and the music is kind of loud, actually. I have to do this to quiet all of their wonderful little noises, to drown out their petty annoyances with one another (everybody’s feeling the need for just a little more space), and to lessen the Momma guilt I’m feeling as I hope that their brains will not be permanently damaged by the amount of screen time they’ve over-indulged in this past week.

But I want to speak to one other way that motherhood traps us all…

In a way that is both expected and wholly unexpected in its intensity, I’ve realized that in saying yes to this thing – motherhood – that my own destiny is trapped to the destinies of my four children.

When one of them is sick, I’m sick with worry. When one is anxious, I need to be present and find the words (where do they come from, I often wonder) that will provide comfort. When there is heartbreak, my own heart breaks a little right alongside theirs. When they talk of their futures, I am both excited for them and painfully aware that this means they are always moving away from me… a little bit more with each passing day.

So, maybe it’s okay that we are all trapped together for yet one more day.

I will finish this post. I will fix them all lunch. I will unplug all of our electronic gadgets. We will read some Harry Potter, we will play some board games. We will probably still irritate the crap out of each other – but we will miss it. All of it. Won’t we?

Ever feel “trapped” in your role as a parent – how do you gain perspective on this and cope with the demands that come with the job? I’d love to hear your responses. Please comment and share.

#Adaptation: #1 Job Requirement in Parenting

adaptation

Today we all have a choice: We can take risks and actions to ensure that we adapt with the constantly changing times or we can hope for the best and do nothing. Adapt from within or you may be forced to adapt from without. Are you ready? #Adaptation

This is the latest “instigation” from Linda Rottenberg as part of a really cool program I’m involved in during the moth of December to envision how I will try to do “business as unusual” in 2017. If you’re interested, check it out – there’s still time to join me on this Quest. I’ve been writing a lot in response to these prompts (this one is #8), but sometimes they’re more personal and end up in the private Quest 2017 Facebook forum. But sometimes an instigation like the one above, fits so well with what is asked of new parents, that I feel compelled to share the response here.

I can think of no other time in my life where I’ve had to adapt more than when I first became a parent. Starting in pregnancy I felt like I had to adapt constantly month by month, week by week, day by day, hour by hour, and so on…

We are creatures who appreciate the usual, our known norm. We like having expectations about how our lives will flow from one day to the next because it allows us to wake up in the morning and get on with our day.

If the world was an uncertain mess (which, really, it kind of is) and we focused only on the not-knowing-what-to-expect-ness of it all, we’d likely become paralyzed – doubt, fear and concern about what’s going to happen next weighing us down.

I was incredibly sick with my first pregnancy. I threw up about 10x a day until I was sixteen weeks along. I lost fifteen pounds during that first trimester. I had to adapt, and adapt quickly, to this huge change in how I felt all day, every day, until my body finally decided that the “foreign body” growing inside of me was not my mortal enemy and we could co-exist without attacking one another. It wasn’t easy!

Then I had to adapt to the fact that once I could eat, I wanted to eat EVERYTHING not nailed down. I made up for lost time, that’s for sure! I ended up gaining 45 pounds over my starting weight (which really means, I gained 60 pounds if you count the original fifteen that I’d lost due to all my puking!) and I had to adapt to my ever-expanding and changing body as the baby took up more and more space, making it harder to breathe and move about in the world.

I had to adapt to having to pee every 15 minutes throughout the day (and night!), and eventually I had to adapt to start eating Tums before, during and after every meal because I could never be sure what would trigger my intense heartburn.

Toward the end of my pregnancy, I had to adapt to wearing a belly band because my round ligaments were so tired of trying to hold up my belly throughout the day. Finally, in the last weeks of my pregnancy, I had to adapt to crawling or being carried up the stairs at night when it was time for bed because my sciatica would shoot searing pain down my backside.

Know this: expectant Mommas are ALL about adaptation!

The process of carrying a baby in our own bodies, forces us to adapt from within from the earliest days of our pregnancy. And in this way, we have both an advantage and disadvantage over our non-pregnant partner.

How is this a disadvantage? Puh-lease. Re-read paragraphs 6-9 above if you haven’t already figured this out… All of the physical and emotional changes that happen during pregnancy can be incredibly challenging. And I’m going to say it – sometimes, pregnancy sucks! Not everyone loves it all of the time, and some of us really don’t like it much at all. Pregnancy takes it’s toll on us as women, but we often don’t even acknowledge this.

We just – adapt.

We keep going. We roll with it. We throw up right before teaching a class, hold it together for two hours, say goodnight to our students and make it to the bathroom just in time to throw up again after they’ve left.

But this also is where we have an advantage over our partners. We’ve been adapting for nine+ months before the baby arrives. We’ve already gotten a taste of what’s to come, what will be asked of us as new parents – because we’ve already been doing it for a really long time. This means that we’re a tiny bit more prepared than our partners might be for the rapid fire adaptation that is a requirement once our baby is ex-utero.

Today’s prompt states that today we all have a choice: we can take action in order to adapt to changing times, or we can hope for the best and do nothing.

But in new parenting, I’m not sure that there really is a choice! You must either adapt (and quickly!) on your own, or your little six pound peanut will make sure you adapt in order to satisfy their needs for survival. There really is no “hoping for the best and doing nothing” option when it comes to your role as a new parent. But by the end of “The 4th Trimester” it’s hard to remember what life was really like before the baby came.

Those first three months are intense and packed with so much to learn in such a short period of time. It’s hard to take stock of how many different ways you’ve adapted to this new role of parenting because even though at twelve weeks in you might feel like you’re no longer crawling through the trenches of new parenting, it never really ends.

You really are amazing, you know that?

As a new parent, you’re learning hundreds of new skills each and every day, applying them and testing them out in real time. Sometimes with great success! Sometimes? Maybe not so much. But either way, you should be super impressed with your overall ability to adapt to this new role as well as you have.

It’s not easy to become a whole new person, while caring for a whole new person, and being in relationship with a whole new person. Navigating this new terrain is challenging, to say the least. But it’s not something you can just refuse to do. It’s required of you. This is your new normal, your new reality.

Adaptation will become your constant companion. 

Because this parenting gig is based on a relationship. A relationship you share with your child –  someone who is changing and adapting to their own environment as they grow and develop from a wailing and hangry newborn, to a cooing and babbling infant, an unsure and unsteady toddler, to a walking, talking, running child, an independent and sometimes sassy youth, to eventually end up a distinct individual with their own thoughts, feelings and passions (that may or may not match up with your own.)

Adaptation will be necessary even into adulthood because you’re both forever changing from one day to the next. Adapt from within or you may be forced to adapt from without. Are you ready?

How can I help you?

I’m asking this question because I really want to know how I can better serve the people I care so much about: parents.

As part of my personal and professional Quest, in the coming year I’d like to make some adaptations, as well. I’ve got a few ideas of my own that I’m considering… a newsletter, podcast, live Q & A sessions, an interview series with leaders in the fields of pregnancy, birth and parenting.

But I really would love to hear what you would like to find here on my blog. How can I help you adapt better in these constantly changing times? Please help me, help you – and share your ideas and comments with me here by answering this super quick survey. Thanks so much!

Named one of “America’s Best Leaders” by U.S. News and one of TIME’s 100 “Innovators for the 21st century,” Linda Rottenberg is considered among the world’s most dynamic experts on entrepreneurship, innovation, and leadership. Ms. Rottenberg is author of CRAZY IS A COMPLIMENT: The Power of Zigging When Everyone Else Zags and co-founder and CEO of Endeavor, the world’s leading organization supporting high-impact entrepreneurs. A graduate of Harvard University and Yale Law School, Linda lives in Brooklyn with her husband, author and New York Times columnist Bruce Feiler, and their identical twin daughters.

Twitter: @lindarottenberg