This post's title could also be "How I Learned that Depression Really Is Exponentially Worse When You Get No Sleep and Have Crazy Hormones"
I dealt with depression before I became pregnant, so I knew to watch out for Post-Partum Depression (PPD) after Junior Mate was born. I had been on anti-depressants before getting pregnant, and I stopped them completely by my third trimester (which was the recommendation for the particular drug I was on). Unfortunately, this halt in my anti-depressants coincided with an extremely stressful December, so I was unable to tell if the depression and anxiety I was feeling were related to the stoppage of medication or just the stress. Looking back, it was probably both, because I spent much of my last trimester feeling anxious and unhappy about the impending birth of Junior Mate. (There may be another post about how I think it really took about 5 months after Junior Mate was born for First Mate and me to really accept that our lives were forever changed.)
Junior Mate arrived about 4 weeks early because I had low amniotic fluid levels (AFL). On a Monday, I went in for a routine doctor's visit and (yet another) ultrasound. I'd had 4 ultrasounds in 5 days at that point, as we were monitoring my AFL to make sure it didn't drop too low. I was already exhausted with having to do all the ultrasounds while trying to finish up things at work. When they did the ultrasound, they told me my AFL was 3.5; anything below 5 calls for immediate action. They called my OB-GYN, who said I needed to head across the street to the hospital's maternity ward. I assumed I was going to be checked in for monitoring, but when I got there, they said I was being induced. I was like o_O and had a pretty hard time keeping it together. The nurses all acted surprised that I was upset about being induced 4 weeks early (seriously? Is it super common for people to be excited about being induced 4 weeks early?). I guess I was supposed to be thrilled that I would get to meet Junior Mate 4 weeks before I was supposed to. Unfortunately, I had been counting on that 4 weeks to finish getting everything together. The previous Friday had been my last day at work, and I thought I'd have the whole month to get things together, as Junior Mate's due date was at the end of the month. We didn't even have a mattress for our crib yet. (To be fair, I had ordered it the previous Friday, but the day I was induced, it hadn't yet arrived.) There were no diapers in the house, and we just simply weren't prepared for the baby. Yes, I'm sure people will argue that I should have been prepared at the beginning of the third trimester in case something like this happened. However, see my parenthetical above where I say that I think both First Mate and I were sort of in denial about how radically our lives would change.
I share this with you to sort of set the stage for my mental state when Junior Mate was born. I wasn't prepared, either physically or mentally. I know I'd had 8 months (she was about a month early) to get prepared, but I wasn't. To be fair, I'm not sure you are ever really prepared because it's so radically life-changing that you simply can't imagine how it will be until it happens. However, I was clinging to that last month of pre-babyhood like a lifeline to help me come to emotional grips with this impending change, and just like that, it was snatched away. I resented my body a bit for not keeping the amniotic fluid where it needed to be, and I was anxious about how healthy Junior Mate would be. I was also anxious because I knew that induction often leads to a more difficult labor than when your body naturally goes into labor.
Anyway, I'm going on more about the birth process than I meant to. Suffice it to say, my anxiety levels were pretty darn high for several days before Junior Mate even entered the world. Additionally, she had to be in NICU for a week due to a suspected infection, and my milk took forever to come in (see my post about breastfeeding here). I felt like a literal milk-cow because I was pumping every 2 hours but without the benefit of having the baby to bond with. It was exhausting. Once we finally got her home, I was already exhausted, and we hadn't even had the first night with a newborn in the house. Enter Junior Mate's reflux(ish) problems. She would spit up every. time. she. ate. To help with this, I would hold her up for at least 30 minutes after she ate. This meant that by the time she ate (which sometimes took 45 minutes), I held her up for 30 minutes, and then put her in the bassinet, I would get maybe an hour of sleep before she woke up again. I guess now's a good time to explain that lack of sleep greatly exacerbates my depression and anxiety problems.
I found myself wishing I had never gotten pregnant and feeling as if my life would never be good or happy again. I was mourning the loss of my old lifestyle with First Mate and couldn't see how I could possibly enjoy this new (currently hellish) lifestyle. I cried a lot. Some days (not all days) I had trouble feeling connected to Junior Mate. Some days, I felt as if Junior Mate had destroyed my life and that I could never be happy again. Eventually, I decided how I would end it if I had to (I'm not sure what was going to be the indicator that I had to), and I had decided that I should probably take Junior Mate with me so First Mate could have his own life back. (You don't have to tell me how messed up this is; I know.)
This went on for about a month until on one of those days when I actually had enough energy and initiative to do it, I called both my counselor and my psychiatrist to schedule appointments again. Fortunately, they were both able to work me in right away. I got back on a medication that was safe for use while breastfeeding and started seeing the counselor on a weekly basis again. Having taken antidepressants before, I was prepared for 10-14 days of waiting for it to build up in my system before I felt better. However, I was shocked when literally two days after starting the medication, I felt better! My psychiatrist explained that when depression is hormone-related, as with PPD, the medication tends to work right away.
Don't get me wrong - it's not like being on the medication magically made everything better. I still had A LOT of adjusting to do, and I really think it wasn't until Junior Mate was about 6.5 months old that I finally started feeling like I could be a semi-normal person again. However, the medication helped me to have far fewer days of crying and feeling as if my life was over and would never be good again. There were far fewer days when I wished I had never gotten pregnant or wished that I could just run away and never have to deal with any of this again. There were far fewer days that I was afraid I might actually do something bad to Junior Mate. (For the record, I never did - the few times that I was unable to deal with her crying, I put her down in the crib and walked away to do my own bout of crying until I was calm enough to pick her up again.) Even now that I'm feeling significantly better, I have days when I wish I could go back to pre-babyhood. Life was easier. However, I'm also excited to see the changes happening practically every day as Junior Mate grows. I've realized I'm not really a baby person, even when it's my own baby, and I'm looking forward to each day that she becomes more interactive. I feel like I can actually handle this whole mommy thing now.
So here's my advice for this post
If you are suffering PPD, particularly if it is severe, don't put off getting help. Don't spend the first month (or more) of your baby's life wishing you were dead and getting to the point that you're planning on how it could be accomplished. Your doctor can give you something that will help get you through the crazy hormonal changes and lack of sleep so that you can actually try to enjoy your newborn. While it is perfectly normal to feel a bit overwhelmed and exhausted after the birth of your baby, it is not normal to constantly wish you and/or the baby were dead. Seek help. It is worth it. Because that thing everyone says is true: it doesn't last forever, and before you know it, you won't have a newborn anymore. Things will get easier, you'll start to get sleep again, and you'll be grateful that you made it through the first few months.
ETA 100315
Another relatively recent new mommy friend of mine reminded me that PPD doesn't always hit right away. Sometimes it can take several months, and then suddenly, WHAM, you're hit with it. This does not make you abnormal. This article suggests that it can begin even before you deliver, and at any time within the first 12 months after delivery, it's considered PPD. The article also points out that it is not actually only depression that new mommies may experience. There are also postpartum psychosis and other similar mental issues that can crop up. While it absolutely breaks my heart to hear stories of moms neglecting and even harming their babies, I better understand how it can happen, having experienced my own severe depression. Hormones are whack, y'all. They can MESS. YOU. UP. Either way, you know yourself best, and you know when your mental state isn't where you prefer it to be. You are not crazy or horrible. You and your baby deserve the best you you can be. Get help if you need it.
Friday, October 2, 2015
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Captain's Log Stardate 08092015: Let's Talk About Boobs
Let's discuss a big hot topic that mommies use to shame one another: breast feeding.
I have both breast and formula fed Junior Mate from day 1. We tried breast feeding right away, and it went pretty well. Unfortunately, she ended up having to be in the NICU for a week for high bilirubin levels and a suspected infection, including a few days when she was NPO (i.e. not eating anything by mouth). I wasn't even allowed to try breastfeeding her again until the 3rd or 4th day, first due to the NPO status and then because they wanted to know exactly how much she was eating at each feed. I (fairly) faithfully pumped and pumped to have good, wholesome "liquid gold" to give her. I'll admit that I started going 4 hours between pumpings overnight because I was just exhausted, but other than that, I generally tried to pump every 2 hours. And y'all, it took forever for my milk to come in. It was just colostrum for the first 3-4 days, and it wasn't a particularly large amount - hardly enough to cover the bottom of the small collection container after 30 minutes of pumping on each breast. Then when my milk FINALLY came in, I was lucky to get about 10 mL (abt. 1/4 oz.) every time I pumped. It was *very* discouraging, and the NICU nurses didn't help me feel better about it. (I could probably write a whole post about how emotionally exhausting it is to have a baby in NICU, which I'm sure is only a different kind of exhaustion from the newborn at home kind.) I remember one time I actually had a combined amount of about 45 mL/abt. 1.75 oz. (from 3 or 4 pumpings), and I was so proud to bring it in for Junior Mate to eat. The nurse looked at what I had brought in and said, "Is that all?" It was a little crushing when I was so exhausted, stressed about having a baby in NICU, and was trying so hard to get some breast milk for her to eat. Actually, it was sort of a LOT crushing.
Needless to say, Junior Mate ate formula in the hospital both because I simply couldn't produce enough for her and so that they could measure how much she was eating. I've been told that pumping just doesn't express the milk as well as the baby, so I started at a disadvantage. Also, First Mate's family has a history of newborn bilirubin problems, and because Junior Mate had to be under the lights a few days in NICU, we were a little nervous about her getting enough to eat and staying hydrated. Thus, we continued formula at home. Our regimen became breastfeeding for as long as she wanted and then offering a bottle if she still acted hungry, which was almost always. Junior Mate also had pretty bad reflux (we never got it diagnosed, but she spit up EVERY TIME she ate), so I would hold her upright for 20-30 minutes after she ate. This regimen meant that by the time I put her down in the cosleeper, I was able to get about an hour of sleep before she woke up again, if I fell asleep right away. The pediatrician asked how we were feeding Junior Mate, and we told her about the breast/formula regimen. She encouraged us to seek help from a lactation consultant to get breastfeeding fully established and cut out the formula. I'll make my confession here: Although I understood all of the reported benefits of exclusively breastfeeding, I was so exhausted and suffering from pretty severe postpartum depression that I just couldn't do it. The thought of trying to make an appointment to see someone about increasing my supply, and the thought of possibly having to feed Junior Mate even MORE often than I was, just made me want to kill myself even more than I already did. (And yes, I really did want to kill myself. PPD sucks pretty badly.) Eventually, I was just so exhausted and stressed that I started letting First Mate feed her a bottle of formula for at least one night feeding, allowing me to get 3-4 whole hours of sleep at a time! (I may write another post about how we worked out sleeping so that we could actually function after the first few weeks.) I can't even imagine how much more difficult it would have been for me if I'd been exclusively breast feeding.
Now, I'll admit, I actually enjoy breastfeeding, though I've been relatively lucky, in that I have had very few problems aside from low supply and one recurrent bleb. I like the cuddle time with Junior Mate, and it's pretty cool to watch your body create food for your baby. But I also like that First Mate or one of the grandparents can easily feed Junior Mate when I'm unavailable without me having to worry about pumping enough for that to happen (nearly impossible with my low supply). Junior Mate also seems to enjoy eating from the bottle while cuddled in my lap just as much as breastfeeding. In fact, since she started teething, she would often rather just eat a bottle than breastfeed. When I thought she was self-weaning the other night, I cried; I'm just not quite ready to stop.
If you are committed to breastfeeding, I definitely think you should check out lactation consultants and support communities like La Leche League (http://www.llli.org). However, I also want to be one of the people who says to you that it is OKAY to do whatever you can do, even if that is not breastfeeding at all. When I saw the below PostSecret submission (credit to PostSecret Archives), it really struck me because it was not long after I had decided it was okay if most of Junior Mate's nutrition came from formula so I could just try to enjoy/make it through her newborn months. I realized that lactation consultants (and pediatricians) probably won't say it to you, as their job is to get you through with positive (i.e. exclusive breastfeeding) results. Don't let the first months of your baby's existence go by in a blur of stress and tears due to breastfeeding issues. It's okay to supplement with formula or exclusively formula feed. (It's also perfectly wonderful to exclusively breastfeed. :) Take care of yourself. It is most important that your baby has a mommy who is happy and able to care for herself enough to properly care for her baby. There have been plenty of babies throughout the last century who were formula fed and have turned out just fine (First Mate and I are two of them). Of course, your child could end up like this guy*, instead. ;)
*In case you missed it, Mom News Daily is a satirical site. :)
I have both breast and formula fed Junior Mate from day 1. We tried breast feeding right away, and it went pretty well. Unfortunately, she ended up having to be in the NICU for a week for high bilirubin levels and a suspected infection, including a few days when she was NPO (i.e. not eating anything by mouth). I wasn't even allowed to try breastfeeding her again until the 3rd or 4th day, first due to the NPO status and then because they wanted to know exactly how much she was eating at each feed. I (fairly) faithfully pumped and pumped to have good, wholesome "liquid gold" to give her. I'll admit that I started going 4 hours between pumpings overnight because I was just exhausted, but other than that, I generally tried to pump every 2 hours. And y'all, it took forever for my milk to come in. It was just colostrum for the first 3-4 days, and it wasn't a particularly large amount - hardly enough to cover the bottom of the small collection container after 30 minutes of pumping on each breast. Then when my milk FINALLY came in, I was lucky to get about 10 mL (abt. 1/4 oz.) every time I pumped. It was *very* discouraging, and the NICU nurses didn't help me feel better about it. (I could probably write a whole post about how emotionally exhausting it is to have a baby in NICU, which I'm sure is only a different kind of exhaustion from the newborn at home kind.) I remember one time I actually had a combined amount of about 45 mL/abt. 1.75 oz. (from 3 or 4 pumpings), and I was so proud to bring it in for Junior Mate to eat. The nurse looked at what I had brought in and said, "Is that all?" It was a little crushing when I was so exhausted, stressed about having a baby in NICU, and was trying so hard to get some breast milk for her to eat. Actually, it was sort of a LOT crushing.
Needless to say, Junior Mate ate formula in the hospital both because I simply couldn't produce enough for her and so that they could measure how much she was eating. I've been told that pumping just doesn't express the milk as well as the baby, so I started at a disadvantage. Also, First Mate's family has a history of newborn bilirubin problems, and because Junior Mate had to be under the lights a few days in NICU, we were a little nervous about her getting enough to eat and staying hydrated. Thus, we continued formula at home. Our regimen became breastfeeding for as long as she wanted and then offering a bottle if she still acted hungry, which was almost always. Junior Mate also had pretty bad reflux (we never got it diagnosed, but she spit up EVERY TIME she ate), so I would hold her upright for 20-30 minutes after she ate. This regimen meant that by the time I put her down in the cosleeper, I was able to get about an hour of sleep before she woke up again, if I fell asleep right away. The pediatrician asked how we were feeding Junior Mate, and we told her about the breast/formula regimen. She encouraged us to seek help from a lactation consultant to get breastfeeding fully established and cut out the formula. I'll make my confession here: Although I understood all of the reported benefits of exclusively breastfeeding, I was so exhausted and suffering from pretty severe postpartum depression that I just couldn't do it. The thought of trying to make an appointment to see someone about increasing my supply, and the thought of possibly having to feed Junior Mate even MORE often than I was, just made me want to kill myself even more than I already did. (And yes, I really did want to kill myself. PPD sucks pretty badly.) Eventually, I was just so exhausted and stressed that I started letting First Mate feed her a bottle of formula for at least one night feeding, allowing me to get 3-4 whole hours of sleep at a time! (I may write another post about how we worked out sleeping so that we could actually function after the first few weeks.) I can't even imagine how much more difficult it would have been for me if I'd been exclusively breast feeding.
Now, I'll admit, I actually enjoy breastfeeding, though I've been relatively lucky, in that I have had very few problems aside from low supply and one recurrent bleb. I like the cuddle time with Junior Mate, and it's pretty cool to watch your body create food for your baby. But I also like that First Mate or one of the grandparents can easily feed Junior Mate when I'm unavailable without me having to worry about pumping enough for that to happen (nearly impossible with my low supply). Junior Mate also seems to enjoy eating from the bottle while cuddled in my lap just as much as breastfeeding. In fact, since she started teething, she would often rather just eat a bottle than breastfeed. When I thought she was self-weaning the other night, I cried; I'm just not quite ready to stop.
If you are committed to breastfeeding, I definitely think you should check out lactation consultants and support communities like La Leche League (http://www.llli.org). However, I also want to be one of the people who says to you that it is OKAY to do whatever you can do, even if that is not breastfeeding at all. When I saw the below PostSecret submission (credit to PostSecret Archives), it really struck me because it was not long after I had decided it was okay if most of Junior Mate's nutrition came from formula so I could just try to enjoy/make it through her newborn months. I realized that lactation consultants (and pediatricians) probably won't say it to you, as their job is to get you through with positive (i.e. exclusive breastfeeding) results. Don't let the first months of your baby's existence go by in a blur of stress and tears due to breastfeeding issues. It's okay to supplement with formula or exclusively formula feed. (It's also perfectly wonderful to exclusively breastfeed. :) Take care of yourself. It is most important that your baby has a mommy who is happy and able to care for herself enough to properly care for her baby. There have been plenty of babies throughout the last century who were formula fed and have turned out just fine (First Mate and I are two of them). Of course, your child could end up like this guy*, instead. ;)
*In case you missed it, Mom News Daily is a satirical site. :)
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Captain's Log Stardate 08042015: My Body Becomes Our Body?
I imagine the themes in this backdated blog are ones that I will touch on in future posts as well. When I was in college, I became aware for the first time of the ways in which women are still treated as second class citizens, and it enraged me. As I've gotten older, I've only become more aware of how our society's representations and expectations of women have affected me and the way I think about myself and my body. Now that I have a daughter, these things continue to be important to me, as I think about how to raise her with body and image positivity, eschewing the ridiculous standards our society has set for women's bodies.
I'm also going to share another anecdote that happened to me after I wrote the below entry. I was talking with a guy at work who was doing some repair work around the office, and he was asking about my pregnancy (because it's totally okay for random strangers to ask you personal questions like that when you're pregnant :P ). He was telling me about his wife's pregnancies, when he commented that he was so lucky because his wife had never gotten any stretch marks with their 3 kids. HE was so lucky. Never mind the aggravation I feel that we say someone is lucky if they avoid stretch marks (why are they so horrible again?). He didn't even say his wife was lucky; it was HIM who was lucky. I mean, does that mean my hubby is horribly unlucky because I came into the marriage with a few stretch marks from puberty and then gained a few more while pregnant? It must be horrible for First Mate to even have to look at me naked now. And if First Mate is unlucky, then I must be like a walking broken mirror. :P
Anyway, if you're a dude reading this - here's a tip: just don't even comment on the body stuff about being pregnant. You have no idea how it feels, and you certainly have no idea what it's like for the particular woman to whom you may be speaking. Feel free to talk about how hard it was to watch your significant other have a hard time and what it's like now that the baby is here, but just avoid the body stuff altogether, unless you're saying something like, "Oh yeah, my wife/girlfriend/surrogate had morning sickness, and it was the worst for her!"
Captain's Log Stardate 101614
(Originally entitled "What happened to social protocol?")
Something I've noticed recently about being pregnant is that for some reason, people think another's pregnancy allows them to totally dispense with social protocol. Let me explain: Generally, if you saw a person in public with a large, protruding belly or something, you would never go up to them and say, "Wow, you're huge!" Sure, you might think it, but you would never actually say it to someone. On the other hand, when someone encounters a pregnant woman in public, they seem to think it entirely appropriate to walk up to her and say, "Wow, you're huge! How far along are you?" Um, excuse me, when did it become okay for you to say something so rude to me? Just because I'm incubating a tiny human doesn't give you the right to comment on my body.
Apparently being pregnant makes people think they have free reign to comment on your body. As a woman, this isn't something I'm particularly new to. Society has taught us that women's bodies are public property, and commenting on women's bodies is what we do - women's dress, their shape, their curves, their thinness (or lack thereof). However, there's a somewhat general expectation that you will not comment on these things directly. Of course, there are many out there who think them and might even comment on them to a shopping partner (or whoever), but you generally don't say it directly to the person. Pregnancy apparently throws all that out the door. Never mind that the poor pregnant woman probably feels like a whale already - pregnancy is the time when everyone you meet feels justified in confirming that feeling for you. Or, if you're like I am currently, I've gotten big enough that none of my regular pants button, but maternity pants don't fit quite right. Everyone at work keeps saying, "You're not showing at all!" Of course, knowing that my belly is considerably bigger (already) than it was 16 weeks ago, all I can think is, "Great; I don't even look pregnant, I just look fat. :P " Or this one, "Now that you mention you're pregnant, I can see it in your face." Which of course makes me have the paranoid, "OMG! I thought my face was about the same! Am I getting fatter EVERYwhere?" Or, "Haven't you noticed that pregnant lady X in the office has gotten a bigger nose? It's part of being pregnant." (Again, "OMG! Even my nose is going to get huge? *sob*" For the record, I haven't noticed any such thing about pregnant lady X.)
Now, generally being a person who avoids conflict and tries to recognize the good intentions people have, I typically take this good-naturedly and respond that I know I don't quite look pregnant yet but am looking forward to showing so it's obvious that I'm not just gaining weight but gaining baby (and yes, I know that even this response is a problem stemming from me buying into culture telling me I shouldn't be "fat", whatever that is). However, I think this is probably easier for me right now because I don't feel hugely pregnant. I'm also not terribly visible yet, so I don't have random people coming to feel my belly. This is another thing that shocks me about pregnancy. Not only does it become acceptable to publicly (and a little rudely) comment on a pregnant woman's size, but suddenly her body is seen as public property to be felt at will. Does incubating a tiny human really mean that I suddenly have no personal space rights? I would never walk up to a random stranger at Target and try to touch their belly. I would never even do this with a random stranger's dog. I've also never seen a random stranger walk up to a dude to rub his beer belly and comment on how big it's gotten. :P Why is it acceptable to do this to a random pregnant human woman? While pregnancy is an amazing time as you realize that your body is busy putting together a human being, it's also still a vulnerable time when all the things that normally make you feel pretty and sexy are changing, you may not be feeling well, and you're terribly self-conscious about your body. Honestly, the way people treat pregnant women like public property is appalling.
Perhaps the problem here goes back to what I mention earlier about women's bodies generally being treated as public property by our society. We've grown up in and accepted a world where it's commonplace for men, women, and the media to comment on a woman's appearance; a world where women learn that their worth is intimately tied to their appearance. Perhaps the reason so many women put up with others touching and talking about their pregnant bellies is because while our former "sexy" appearance is changing (the first thing that our culture tells us makes us valuable as women), we can still affirm our value through the other thing that society tells us women are good for - creating and nurturing a tiny human. We are transitioning from the valuable "available, hot chick" to the venerable (and still valuable) "mommy." Aside from the mixed feelings this transition brings ("Do I really want to be a mommy?" "OMG, my life is never going to be the same..." "This is incredibly cool."), it's a little disturbing that it's so easy for so many women (including myself) to buy into these tales about what makes our worth.
I'm hoping that as I get bigger, I will have the courage to call out people doing these kinds of stupid things to me. I am proud that my body has the ability to make a baby, but I am also still the same Kristi with the same hopes, fears, insecurities, and prides that I was before I became pregnant. Being pregnant does not somehow negate my right to the usual social protocols about how we treat strangers. Likewise, simply being a woman does not make it okay to equate my value with my usefulness to men. I'm pretty sick of it, and it's time for all women (especially pregnant women who seem to be viewed even more as public property than other women) to stand up for the right to be valued for who we are as humans and participants in the world.
I'm also going to share another anecdote that happened to me after I wrote the below entry. I was talking with a guy at work who was doing some repair work around the office, and he was asking about my pregnancy (because it's totally okay for random strangers to ask you personal questions like that when you're pregnant :P ). He was telling me about his wife's pregnancies, when he commented that he was so lucky because his wife had never gotten any stretch marks with their 3 kids. HE was so lucky. Never mind the aggravation I feel that we say someone is lucky if they avoid stretch marks (why are they so horrible again?). He didn't even say his wife was lucky; it was HIM who was lucky. I mean, does that mean my hubby is horribly unlucky because I came into the marriage with a few stretch marks from puberty and then gained a few more while pregnant? It must be horrible for First Mate to even have to look at me naked now. And if First Mate is unlucky, then I must be like a walking broken mirror. :P
Anyway, if you're a dude reading this - here's a tip: just don't even comment on the body stuff about being pregnant. You have no idea how it feels, and you certainly have no idea what it's like for the particular woman to whom you may be speaking. Feel free to talk about how hard it was to watch your significant other have a hard time and what it's like now that the baby is here, but just avoid the body stuff altogether, unless you're saying something like, "Oh yeah, my wife/girlfriend/surrogate had morning sickness, and it was the worst for her!"
Captain's Log Stardate 101614
(Originally entitled "What happened to social protocol?")
Something I've noticed recently about being pregnant is that for some reason, people think another's pregnancy allows them to totally dispense with social protocol. Let me explain: Generally, if you saw a person in public with a large, protruding belly or something, you would never go up to them and say, "Wow, you're huge!" Sure, you might think it, but you would never actually say it to someone. On the other hand, when someone encounters a pregnant woman in public, they seem to think it entirely appropriate to walk up to her and say, "Wow, you're huge! How far along are you?" Um, excuse me, when did it become okay for you to say something so rude to me? Just because I'm incubating a tiny human doesn't give you the right to comment on my body.
Apparently being pregnant makes people think they have free reign to comment on your body. As a woman, this isn't something I'm particularly new to. Society has taught us that women's bodies are public property, and commenting on women's bodies is what we do - women's dress, their shape, their curves, their thinness (or lack thereof). However, there's a somewhat general expectation that you will not comment on these things directly. Of course, there are many out there who think them and might even comment on them to a shopping partner (or whoever), but you generally don't say it directly to the person. Pregnancy apparently throws all that out the door. Never mind that the poor pregnant woman probably feels like a whale already - pregnancy is the time when everyone you meet feels justified in confirming that feeling for you. Or, if you're like I am currently, I've gotten big enough that none of my regular pants button, but maternity pants don't fit quite right. Everyone at work keeps saying, "You're not showing at all!" Of course, knowing that my belly is considerably bigger (already) than it was 16 weeks ago, all I can think is, "Great; I don't even look pregnant, I just look fat. :P " Or this one, "Now that you mention you're pregnant, I can see it in your face." Which of course makes me have the paranoid, "OMG! I thought my face was about the same! Am I getting fatter EVERYwhere?" Or, "Haven't you noticed that pregnant lady X in the office has gotten a bigger nose? It's part of being pregnant." (Again, "OMG! Even my nose is going to get huge? *sob*" For the record, I haven't noticed any such thing about pregnant lady X.)
Now, generally being a person who avoids conflict and tries to recognize the good intentions people have, I typically take this good-naturedly and respond that I know I don't quite look pregnant yet but am looking forward to showing so it's obvious that I'm not just gaining weight but gaining baby (and yes, I know that even this response is a problem stemming from me buying into culture telling me I shouldn't be "fat", whatever that is). However, I think this is probably easier for me right now because I don't feel hugely pregnant. I'm also not terribly visible yet, so I don't have random people coming to feel my belly. This is another thing that shocks me about pregnancy. Not only does it become acceptable to publicly (and a little rudely) comment on a pregnant woman's size, but suddenly her body is seen as public property to be felt at will. Does incubating a tiny human really mean that I suddenly have no personal space rights? I would never walk up to a random stranger at Target and try to touch their belly. I would never even do this with a random stranger's dog. I've also never seen a random stranger walk up to a dude to rub his beer belly and comment on how big it's gotten. :P Why is it acceptable to do this to a random pregnant human woman? While pregnancy is an amazing time as you realize that your body is busy putting together a human being, it's also still a vulnerable time when all the things that normally make you feel pretty and sexy are changing, you may not be feeling well, and you're terribly self-conscious about your body. Honestly, the way people treat pregnant women like public property is appalling.
Perhaps the problem here goes back to what I mention earlier about women's bodies generally being treated as public property by our society. We've grown up in and accepted a world where it's commonplace for men, women, and the media to comment on a woman's appearance; a world where women learn that their worth is intimately tied to their appearance. Perhaps the reason so many women put up with others touching and talking about their pregnant bellies is because while our former "sexy" appearance is changing (the first thing that our culture tells us makes us valuable as women), we can still affirm our value through the other thing that society tells us women are good for - creating and nurturing a tiny human. We are transitioning from the valuable "available, hot chick" to the venerable (and still valuable) "mommy." Aside from the mixed feelings this transition brings ("Do I really want to be a mommy?" "OMG, my life is never going to be the same..." "This is incredibly cool."), it's a little disturbing that it's so easy for so many women (including myself) to buy into these tales about what makes our worth.
I'm hoping that as I get bigger, I will have the courage to call out people doing these kinds of stupid things to me. I am proud that my body has the ability to make a baby, but I am also still the same Kristi with the same hopes, fears, insecurities, and prides that I was before I became pregnant. Being pregnant does not somehow negate my right to the usual social protocols about how we treat strangers. Likewise, simply being a woman does not make it okay to equate my value with my usefulness to men. I'm pretty sick of it, and it's time for all women (especially pregnant women who seem to be viewed even more as public property than other women) to stand up for the right to be valued for who we are as humans and participants in the world.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Captain's Log Stardate 08032015: "Morning" Sickness
Since this blog is going to focus on my life since I became pregnant, I am going to post some entries from my personal blog that I wrote during my pregnancy. This post will focus on the notorious MORNING SICKNESS!
Morning sickness sucks, y'all. That's really all there is to it. Actually, there's a lot more to it, but that's a quite succinct way of saying how it feels. Here's an example: One morning, I was making the bed and found that First Mate had drooled on his pillow overnight. After looking at the drool, I had to run to the bathroom (which is thankfully attached to our master bedroom) and vomit. So, you know, things like just *seeing* drool can make you throw up when you are incubating a tiny human.
Neither my mom nor the friends I talked to about it during my first trimester had actually experienced morning sickness (I found another friend who had it, but I didn't actually talk to her about it until my second trimester). Thus, I found myself desperately seeking someone who would understand. I ended up joining Babycenter.com just to find some people who could commiserate. It was a great place to find people with whom to commiserate, but it was not really a place to discuss the feelings I was having about pregnancy (more on that in later posts). I recommend it if you're looking for people who are in the same stage of pregnancy as you and will be able to understand and share their own experiences of what's happening at the moment. It's perhaps not the best place to try and talk about your feelings, unless they're the expected ones of joy and elation.
If you stumbled upon this blog looking for your own assurance that you're not alone, take heart. I can't tell you that morning sickness always ends right on the nose of the second trimester. Mine lasted until about halfway through my second trimester, and my digestive system was pretty much wonky throughout the entire pregnancy. And though I knew in my head that my stomach was supposed to return to normal when the pregnancy ended, I couldn't shake a fear that I would never feel normal again. Now that I've delivered my baby, I can tell you for certain that it does in fact return to normal! In fact, pretty much as soon as she was delivered, my stomach felt basically normal again, aside from the postpartum body feels. It took a day or two for the indigestion to return to its normal level (which is generally higher for me than the average person), but it did return. I was able to eat things I hadn't been able to eat without paying the consequences basically the day after I delivered. And now, 5 months postpartum, I am once again having trouble keeping the weight off. ;)
It does end, and there is a light at the end of the tunnel. You can and will make it through.
For more exciting thoughts about morning sickness, below are three entries I wrote during my pregnancy.
Captain’s Log stardate 080114
Here’s a little idea of what my experience of “morning sickness” has been like these last two days:
Dear Kristi,
To celebrate the exciting news of the new life growing down below me, I have decided to fast for the foreseeable future. In fact, the mere thought of food will be near to anathema for us. I will make you feel like shit simply for sitting there and thinking about eating or drinking anything, even water. You can try to put something in me, and it may work. However, you will continue to feel like crap and wonder if you will ever feel like eating again. This will be in addition to the lovely persistent indigestion/heartburn I use to remind you of my presence. Your intestines and I have also decided that chronic gas will be a good way to celebrate. Be thankful that I haven’t yet rejected the stuff you manage to put in me, but don’t expect that to last – I like to keep you on your toes.
No love,
Your stomach
Captain’s Log stardate 081414
Things I took for granted before morning sickness:
Being able to take a shower without getting incredibly nauseated/throwing up
Being able to take an actual swallow of any drink
Feeling like a human being
Being able to listen to pop music without getting nauseated
Being able to eat enough that I had to worry about gaining weight
Riding in a car without throwing up
Captain's Log stardate 101914
"Morning" sickness is a bit of a misnomer because, while it *is* sometimes worse in the morning, more often than not, I found it lasted all day and peaked at various times throughout the day. And the bit where I say I'm looking forward to being able to listen to pop music again really applied to any kind of music with a beat. For about 6 weeks, I only listened to soft, relaxing classical music or new agey sounding stuff (good thing I like both of those). I could also add to the "riding in a car without throwing up" bit "riding a plane without throwing up." I've never had air sickness until I flew while pregnant.
I am thankful that the horrible feeling-sick-and-vomiting-every-day part has leveled off, but I was hopeful that I would feel completely normal by now. At this point, I can at least eat, and I don't feel nauseated every day. However, my tummy often (almost always) has this sort of sour milk feeling that's not quite indigestion but not quite food sitting well. I'm still having some days when I feel nauseated, too, especially if I forget to pack a snack when I go out somewhere. Seriously, as one of my pregnant coworkers said, "Pregnancy is for the birds."
Morning sickness sucks, y'all. That's really all there is to it. Actually, there's a lot more to it, but that's a quite succinct way of saying how it feels. Here's an example: One morning, I was making the bed and found that First Mate had drooled on his pillow overnight. After looking at the drool, I had to run to the bathroom (which is thankfully attached to our master bedroom) and vomit. So, you know, things like just *seeing* drool can make you throw up when you are incubating a tiny human.
Neither my mom nor the friends I talked to about it during my first trimester had actually experienced morning sickness (I found another friend who had it, but I didn't actually talk to her about it until my second trimester). Thus, I found myself desperately seeking someone who would understand. I ended up joining Babycenter.com just to find some people who could commiserate. It was a great place to find people with whom to commiserate, but it was not really a place to discuss the feelings I was having about pregnancy (more on that in later posts). I recommend it if you're looking for people who are in the same stage of pregnancy as you and will be able to understand and share their own experiences of what's happening at the moment. It's perhaps not the best place to try and talk about your feelings, unless they're the expected ones of joy and elation.
If you stumbled upon this blog looking for your own assurance that you're not alone, take heart. I can't tell you that morning sickness always ends right on the nose of the second trimester. Mine lasted until about halfway through my second trimester, and my digestive system was pretty much wonky throughout the entire pregnancy. And though I knew in my head that my stomach was supposed to return to normal when the pregnancy ended, I couldn't shake a fear that I would never feel normal again. Now that I've delivered my baby, I can tell you for certain that it does in fact return to normal! In fact, pretty much as soon as she was delivered, my stomach felt basically normal again, aside from the postpartum body feels. It took a day or two for the indigestion to return to its normal level (which is generally higher for me than the average person), but it did return. I was able to eat things I hadn't been able to eat without paying the consequences basically the day after I delivered. And now, 5 months postpartum, I am once again having trouble keeping the weight off. ;)
It does end, and there is a light at the end of the tunnel. You can and will make it through.
For more exciting thoughts about morning sickness, below are three entries I wrote during my pregnancy.
Captain’s Log stardate 080114
Here’s a little idea of what my experience of “morning sickness” has been like these last two days:
Dear Kristi,
To celebrate the exciting news of the new life growing down below me, I have decided to fast for the foreseeable future. In fact, the mere thought of food will be near to anathema for us. I will make you feel like shit simply for sitting there and thinking about eating or drinking anything, even water. You can try to put something in me, and it may work. However, you will continue to feel like crap and wonder if you will ever feel like eating again. This will be in addition to the lovely persistent indigestion/heartburn I use to remind you of my presence. Your intestines and I have also decided that chronic gas will be a good way to celebrate. Be thankful that I haven’t yet rejected the stuff you manage to put in me, but don’t expect that to last – I like to keep you on your toes.
No love,
Your stomach
Captain’s Log stardate 081414
Things I took for granted before morning sickness:
Being able to take a shower without getting incredibly nauseated/throwing up
Being able to take an actual swallow of any drink
Feeling like a human being
Being able to listen to pop music without getting nauseated
Being able to eat enough that I had to worry about gaining weight
Riding in a car without throwing up
Captain's Log stardate 101914
"Morning" sickness is a bit of a misnomer because, while it *is* sometimes worse in the morning, more often than not, I found it lasted all day and peaked at various times throughout the day. And the bit where I say I'm looking forward to being able to listen to pop music again really applied to any kind of music with a beat. For about 6 weeks, I only listened to soft, relaxing classical music or new agey sounding stuff (good thing I like both of those). I could also add to the "riding in a car without throwing up" bit "riding a plane without throwing up." I've never had air sickness until I flew while pregnant.
I am thankful that the horrible feeling-sick-and-vomiting-every-day part has leveled off, but I was hopeful that I would feel completely normal by now. At this point, I can at least eat, and I don't feel nauseated every day. However, my tummy often (almost always) has this sort of sour milk feeling that's not quite indigestion but not quite food sitting well. I'm still having some days when I feel nauseated, too, especially if I forget to pack a snack when I go out somewhere. Seriously, as one of my pregnant coworkers said, "Pregnancy is for the birds."
Captain's Log Stardate 08022015: Hello world!
Hello world!
I have had a personal blog for many years, but since I became pregnant with (and subsequently delivered) my first baby, I have had many thoughts and ideas I wanted to share with more people than just my family and close friends. Thus, I decided it was time (at the late hour of 11:30 pm) to create a blog that would chronicle my thoughts and ideas about life, pregnancy, and childrearing. My hope is that some of what I have to share will help others who may have/had similar thoughts or struggles and just wanted someone to understand or to share that little tip that I wish someone had told me.
I anticipate that I will write about the many thoughts I've had about pregnancy and baby care-taking, but I also expect that I will periodically write about political hot topics. I have a Master of Divinity from a school that was quite focused on social justice topics, so I find myself having thoughts about stuff fairly frequently. I welcome constructive and helpful comments and will delete trollish or willfully argumentative comments. Debate, especially online with people I don't know, is not my favorite form of conversation, so I will generally prefer to avoid it. I do enjoy "meeting" new people, though, and hope people will feel safe to introduce themselves. However you have found your way here, I hope that you will find something makes you think, gives you comfort that you're not alone, and/or helps you avoid having to find out that little tip through the frustration of trial and error. Welcome, world, to my little starship!
As to the name of my blog:
I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation growing up, and it was one of my favorite shows. I still like to watch it on Netflix (which rarely happens nowadays with the attempts to keep the baby from seeing too much television). Thus, when I became pregnant and found myself writing again, it felt natural to call my thoughts the Captain's Log. I felt a bit like a ship carrying a little passenger. Now I feel that the idea of my life as a ship navigating through life is still appropriate. For the purpose of my writings, I will refer to myself as the Captain, and my husband will be the First Mate. I'm still tossing around ideas for what to call the baby; for now I will call her the Junior Mate (which I don't think is actually a thing, but it's my blog and my prerogative ;).
I chose the name Hecate for my starship. During my senior year in college, I took a class about ancient Greek religion. My final project for the class involved researching and presenting about an ancient Greek god/goddess, discovering the earliest presentations of this deity. The goddess I pulled out of the hat was Hecate (a.k.a. Hekate). Though she later became associated with witchcraft and some darker sides of spiritual experience, her earliest role was as the goddess of the crossroads and the threshold. (She also helped guide people across the border from life to death, which is where the darker side came from in later incarnations.) In more precise terms, she was the goddess of liminal spaces - those places where you are neither one place nor the other. (At a crossroad, you are technically on both roads; at a threshold, you are both inside and outside the house.) It was felt that these places were particularly vulnerable due to this quality of being between spaces, so Hecate played an important role in protecting the person who found him/herself there. As I have continued on my life journey, I keep finding myself feeling like I am again living in a liminal space. In fact, I have started to wonder if life itself isn't just a series of liminal spaces. I feel that it was fortuitous that Hecate was the name I drew; she feels like my own personal goddess at this point.
I have had a personal blog for many years, but since I became pregnant with (and subsequently delivered) my first baby, I have had many thoughts and ideas I wanted to share with more people than just my family and close friends. Thus, I decided it was time (at the late hour of 11:30 pm) to create a blog that would chronicle my thoughts and ideas about life, pregnancy, and childrearing. My hope is that some of what I have to share will help others who may have/had similar thoughts or struggles and just wanted someone to understand or to share that little tip that I wish someone had told me.
I anticipate that I will write about the many thoughts I've had about pregnancy and baby care-taking, but I also expect that I will periodically write about political hot topics. I have a Master of Divinity from a school that was quite focused on social justice topics, so I find myself having thoughts about stuff fairly frequently. I welcome constructive and helpful comments and will delete trollish or willfully argumentative comments. Debate, especially online with people I don't know, is not my favorite form of conversation, so I will generally prefer to avoid it. I do enjoy "meeting" new people, though, and hope people will feel safe to introduce themselves. However you have found your way here, I hope that you will find something makes you think, gives you comfort that you're not alone, and/or helps you avoid having to find out that little tip through the frustration of trial and error. Welcome, world, to my little starship!
As to the name of my blog:
I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation growing up, and it was one of my favorite shows. I still like to watch it on Netflix (which rarely happens nowadays with the attempts to keep the baby from seeing too much television). Thus, when I became pregnant and found myself writing again, it felt natural to call my thoughts the Captain's Log. I felt a bit like a ship carrying a little passenger. Now I feel that the idea of my life as a ship navigating through life is still appropriate. For the purpose of my writings, I will refer to myself as the Captain, and my husband will be the First Mate. I'm still tossing around ideas for what to call the baby; for now I will call her the Junior Mate (which I don't think is actually a thing, but it's my blog and my prerogative ;).
I chose the name Hecate for my starship. During my senior year in college, I took a class about ancient Greek religion. My final project for the class involved researching and presenting about an ancient Greek god/goddess, discovering the earliest presentations of this deity. The goddess I pulled out of the hat was Hecate (a.k.a. Hekate). Though she later became associated with witchcraft and some darker sides of spiritual experience, her earliest role was as the goddess of the crossroads and the threshold. (She also helped guide people across the border from life to death, which is where the darker side came from in later incarnations.) In more precise terms, she was the goddess of liminal spaces - those places where you are neither one place nor the other. (At a crossroad, you are technically on both roads; at a threshold, you are both inside and outside the house.) It was felt that these places were particularly vulnerable due to this quality of being between spaces, so Hecate played an important role in protecting the person who found him/herself there. As I have continued on my life journey, I keep finding myself feeling like I am again living in a liminal space. In fact, I have started to wonder if life itself isn't just a series of liminal spaces. I feel that it was fortuitous that Hecate was the name I drew; she feels like my own personal goddess at this point.
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