A Portrayal Of Modern Motherhood: NICU Edition

"How does it feel to be a mother?"

This pregnancy has brought me many questions to ponder. And now that my children are living on "the outside" I've got new questions to address. 

Answering the above question always feels so strange. While I was pregnant I assumed that after hours of painful labor my first child would emerge from it's quiet cocoon and our eyes would meet and that would be it. I would be a mother. And then, because I have twins, I would get to repeat the experience within the next hour. I would be a mother twice over. It would be such a powerful experience, one that would live on in my memory for all time.

Of course, life had a different plan. 

After living in the hospital for a week, my preeclampsia had progressed to the point where it was no longer safe for me to stay pregnant.  Doctors decided that, at 33 weeks and 5 days gestation, October 17th, 2016 would be my children's birthday. And it was like nothing I could have ever anticipated.

First of all, baby A was not head down which meant I would need a c-section. This didn't really bother me. A lot of people have c-sections. I wasn't really excited about the longer recovery time compared to a vaginal birth, but I knew it would be worth it to have my babies come into the world safely. I knew that since the babies were being born so early I probably wouldn't get the chance to hold them right after they were pulled out, but at least I'd get to see them before they were whisked away to the NICU. And my wife would be standing next to me so we could experience the birth of our children together. I now had a new image of childbirth in my head. 

And that's where I learned, once again, the dangers of holding on to expectations. The doctors told me that my platelets were too low for a spinal and I would have to be knocked out for the c-section. Because of my preeclampsia I would be hooked up to an IV drip with anti-seizure medicine for 24 hours after they pull the babies out, but the nurses assured me that they could wheel me over to the NICU to see the babies with the drip. Here is where it makes more sense to just write a list of how insane everything went from here.

- Because I wasn't going to be awake for the birth of my children, my wife could not be in the operating room either. She waited outside the room and was let into a side room once the babies were out so she could be the first to see them. From there she could see the wall of blue scrubs around my unconscious body for a moment before the babies were rolled out into the hallway for the rest of our family to view on their way to the NICU.

- I woke up in the PACU (Post Anesthesia Care Unit) alone except for my nurse who taught me how to use the green button which would deliver a narcotic when I felt pain. I was already hooked up to the anti-seizure meds and they were checking my blood pressure regularly to make sure I was stable before sending me up to the recovery room. 

- I wanted to look my children in their eyes before I looked between their legs. But shortly after waking up I noticed additional bracelets on my left wrist. No one told me to expect these. So of course I had to figure out what they were. When I saw that one bracelet said "Baby girl A" I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, "well, I might as well just look at the other one" which read "Baby girl B." I smiled. Though I missed their birth and still hadn't seen their faces, this was the only connection I had to my children. 

- Eventually they wheeled me back up to recovery. And this is where things get a little fuzzy for me. My girls were born at 4PM on Monday. And I cant remember if the things I'm going to write about now happened Monday night or Tuesday morning.

- At some point the pain of my incision had been eclipsed by the pain of seemingly immovable gas in my abdomen. Pushing the green button no longer provided relief so I ignored it and focused on breathing through the pain as best I could. The doctors sent me for an x-ray to make sure that there wasn't anything else strange happening in my body. I couldn't sit up or stand or walk. They had to move me to the x-ray table. But I had to help position myself. They pain was stunning. In fact this was such an amazingly painful experience, I had completely forgotten about it the next day... I think my body was trying to protect my sanity. When the doctors mentioned it at rounds I had no idea what they were talking about and must have looked very foolish when I asked for clarification.

- After the x-ray I was returned to recovery. 

- I was still on the IV drip on Tuesday. But now I started to talk strange. I wasn't making sense (apparently... all I remember was how hard it was to focus and make sense of what other people were saying.) The doctors assumed that I had mistakenly received too much of the narcotic pain killer from the magic green button. I remember my mom telling the doctors that I had only pushed the button twice in the last several hours. The doctors looked at her suspiciously and consulted the green button. To their surprise I had received significantly less pain killer than what they feel people need after major abdominal surgery. Then they checked my blood and found my hematocrit was quite low and decided to give me a blood transfusion. At this point my children were now a full day old and I still could not even sit up in bed. I had not seen them, though my family had. And they brought me pictures... A very poor substitute for the real thing. 

It's hard to feel like a mother when you don't get to see your children. And it's not just about seeing them. I wanted to touch them, hold them, smell them, hear them, watch them... I wanted to feel them again. I wanted to feel them with every sense I had. I didn't miss being pregnant, but I missed feeling my babies twitch.

After the blood transfusion I was taken off the anti-seizure medicine and wheeled back to the floor I was living at before the babies were born. My new nurse knew of me though this was the first time we met. She came in and asked me how I was and asked me how the babies were. I tried to be cool about everything that had happened, but I quickly became emotional because I still hadn't seen my girls. She was shocked to learn that I hadn't been out of bed in over a day. She was also shocked that I still had a catheter connected to my leg. I was really lucky to have this nurse. Because of the gas moving was still excruciating, but some how this woman got me up and into a wheel chair. And she wheeled me to the NICU and I finally saw my girls. They were in isolettes but I got to reach in and hold their hands.

Meeting Baby A. And you can see by the look on my face how overwhelmed I was. 

Meeting Baby B. It was hard to fit my wheelchair next to these isolettes.

The next day they let me hold Baby A!

If there is a heaven, then I think it feels like this.

After this my recovery consisted of blood pressure checks every four hours and trying lots of different dosages to keep it at a manageable level. I needed a second blood transfusion when my girls were three days old. Then the doctors thought my incision was infected, but it turned out I was allergic to some adhesive they used in the surgery which caused my incision to turn bright red and puffy... it looked like a creepy clown smile! Then my body broke out in itchy hives leading the doctors to believe I am allergic to Percocet, the pain medicine they gave me. Finally they could let me take ibuprofen (which I wasn't allowed to take until they had my blood pressure under control) and the hives started to go away. 

Slowly I learned to walk through the pain and weakness of more than a month on bed rest. Three days ago I actually stopped using a wheelchair! Now I can stand up next to my babies' cribs and change their diapers, check their temperatures and kiss their faces when ever I want to. I can even pick them up and carry them to a chair. Though that's always a scary thing because they are still hooked up to monitors and I'm afraid I will trip. But has the days have passed the number of lines and wires connected to them have decreased and it has become much easier to hold them.

I even get to hold them both at the same time now! :)

This really was the best thing ever.

And now my life is one of pumping and going to the hospital. Our girls are learning to eat with their mouths and are getting stronger and bigger every day. We keep getting closer and closer to taking them home.

So, in a couple of days I will have been a mother for three weeks... and I'm still not sure how to answer that first question. How does it feel? Over the past month my feelings have ran all over the place, I think it will we a while before I can actually process everything that has happened to me.

I'm not even sure if I feel like I AM a mother yet. Our children are cared for 24/7 by amazing NICU nurses. My life is about pumping, waiting to go to the hospital and dragging myself away when it's so late that I really should be sleeping! It's hard to find balance when you are a parent... I know this from all of my friends who are parents. But maybe finding balance is just another expectation I need to let go of. These are choppy, uncharted waters and I can't make a stormy ocean a calm ocean. But I can accept this all for what it is, what it was, and what it will be. And through that acceptance perhaps I can feel some peace...

Or maybe I'll just be a goofball and laugh my way through it all ;)

Progeny, Preeclampsia and Privilege

Progeny (noun) - a descendant or the descendants of a person, animal, or plant; offspring.

Preeclampsia (noun) - a condition in pregnancy characterized by high blood pressure, sometimes with fluid retention and proteinuria.

Privilege (noun) - a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people.

Me 32 weeks 4 days pregnant with twins

Over the past couple of weeks, the above words have been a driving focus for nearly everything I do. Now, over the past five days these words have eclipsed nearly every other aspect of my life.

I don't even know how to start this story. Honestly, so much of it is a total blur. I'm going to be much less exact than I would prefer to be and basically summarize. About a month ago I stopped working as I had begun to have problems walking for more than five or ten minutes without becoming extremely winded. For those who don't know me well you should understand that I am a competitive athlete. I play roller derby and I run. So, feeling winded after a ten minute walk felt down right absurd. Everyone just kept reminding me that I'm building two humans in my uterus, and of course that's going to take a lot of energy. So I just went with everyone else.

Then I had a couple strange lab results. Then there was some odd swelling. But in both situations my body quickly corrected itself. My doctors suggested a modified bed rest and asked me to stay off of my feet as much as possible. I have no recollection of when I had the first high blood pressure reading. It was definitely a surprise to everyone. Throughout this pregnancy my blood pressure had been perfect. But at that point the doctors asked me to be more firm with my bed rest at home. I actually had some people come over just to make some food for me, I stopped going anywhere, I stopped adding salt to my food... Basically, I did everything I could think of to manage my blood pressure without medical intervention. This was also when I started to research preeclampsia. This was my favorite informative video about how this condition develops and progresses for those who want more information.

And again here is where things are a little fuzzy... So, I'm just going to write this journal-style:

Friday - Doctor's appointment to check blood pressure and protein in  my urine. Diagnosed with mild preeclampsia and put on full bed rest at home. (or maybe this was last Wednesday... It's honestly a blur)

Saturday - Went in to triage because I felt off. Blood pressure was elevated and labs were not happy. They gave me a steroid shot because my babies are only 32 weeks old to give their lungs a growth boost in case I become too sick to carry them.

Sunday - Went to triage for a planned appointment for the second steroid shot. Blood pressure much elevated again. Doctor asked me to spend the night at the hospital for monitoring, so I was admitted.

Monday - Spent the day at the hospital being watched closely. Labs and blood pressure not reassuring, but not bad enough to progress to the next stage, they kept me over night again.

Tuesday - At the 4AM rounds my blood pressure was seriously elevated (and I felt like crap.) I was staying at a lower level hospital where my twins could not recieve adequate care if they were born at 32 weeks. I was given lots of medication, some that made me feel really horrible. Then they called an ambulance and strapped me in for the short ride to our big hospital that has a very advanced NICU and a special floor just for people like me who are having a hard time staying pregnant and healthy. They didn't let me eat all day, or drink anything because they didn't know if they could get my blood pressure under control and feared a cesarean would be necessary. Finally things relaxed. And I don't think anyone knows why. This just seems to be how it goes with preeclampsia, sometimes things are ok, sometimes they are not. Sometimes things calm down and sometimes they progress to very dangerous places very quickly. Eventually I was allowed to eat and moved to a room for high risk pregnant people and checked every few hours by nurses, techs and doctors.

Me on Tuesday having dinner in my room. That's the smile of someone trying to be tough.

Wednesday (today, my babies are now 33 weeks old) - Once again, the 4 AM rounds turned up dangerously high blood pressure. The nurse rechecked me three times over the next half hour and it just kept going up. She called in a doctor and they gave me some fast acting medication to lower things. The medicine worked for a short while and then things spiked again, so they gave me more. Then I was put on a longer acting version of the medicine and that seems to have been holding things steady throughout today. They keep asking me about symptoms like headaches, and seeing sparkles or bright lights and pain my my abdomen. I don't have any of that. Aside from my BP spikes and my crappy blood levels its hard to know I'm sick.

Today I was given a tour of the NICU. It is very impressive. It was also very overwhelming.

I've cried several times today. I don't think I've ever really felt truly helpless. There have been times where I thought I was helpless, but really I just needed to do something different or scream louder... But now there is literally nothing I can do but wait. Wait and trust this huge team of strangers to watch me closely. I'm very fortunate to have so many friends and family members who work in medicine. I know the kinds of people who choose these jobs personally, and that helps me to trust these strangers.

But seriously, it's really hard to "keep it together." And I'm pretty sure I'm all over with trying to appear strong. I know that I have no control over this situation. I know that this situation is temporary. And I also know that, at 33 weeks my babies have a very good chance of living and being healthy. But all that knowledge does nothing for me... It doesn't help me feel stronger or more capable to handle this. For the record, I know no one is expecting me to "keep it together" but that doesn't change the fact that I want to be stronger so I can cope better with this.

The one thing that is kinda helping me is privilege. I can't stop thinking about how privileged I am to be where I am. I live in a world where my wife and I are able to have children. I live in a world where most people accept and support our relationship and our little family. I live in a world where I am given access to the most amazing support medical science has to offer.

I keep thinking about the people in Haiti and Jamaica. I know there are pregnant women there too. And I am sure some of those women are sick, just like me. I can't imagine what it must be like to live through a disaster while trying to keep your babies alive inside you. The fact that I am here, and that those women are there is due to nothing other than luck. I'm not a better person, I don't deserve better care... I just get it, because of who I am and where I live. And that, sadly, is how our world works.

This sucks. It sucks a lot. But I am still so lucky.

I wish this luck wasn't just for me.

The Daycare Interview Question That Stumped Me!

For the past three years I have been running a small registered family daycare in my home. I've cared for kids as young as two months and as old as eight years, and anywhere from 1-8 kids at a time depending on the day and time of year. I run this daycare completely on my own and prior to opening the daycare I had little practice taking care of children on a daily basis. So, to say I experienced a stiff learning curve might be a bit of an understatement.

Though I had taught middle school and worked with kids as young as five in a school for multiply disabled children, my knowledge of how to manage a home with kids in it was pretty slim. Which is why I started reading parenting books shortly after I opened my daycare. I've written on here before about some of the books I've read and how they have helped or harmed my relationships with the children in my care. Over the past three years my "parenting method" has continued to evolve as I've gained new knowledge about different ways to work through conflict with others.

Last December I started walking a new path toward conflict resolution that I haven't really spoken about as much as I would like to... mostly because it's so different.

And I hadn't even realized how confusing it could be to talk about this new way of life, until a prospective daycare parent asked me the very common question, "So, what is your discipline method?"

It was almost an involuntary reaction to open my mouth and attempt to respond. After all, that's what my mouth was accustomed to doing when someone asked me a question... unfortunately my brain was stuck. I really didn't know what to say and sat there with my mouth agape and silent. This was May, and I had been experimenting with my new conflict resolution tools for about five months, and I still felt very much a novice. How could I explain my methods to someone when I had such nascent confidence in my ability to actually DO the thing I'm doing (at least consistently?)

Lucky for me, this mother was a good friend of one of my good friends, so I was just honest with her, I basically said, "I honestly don't know how to explain it... but I can tell you what I don't do. I don't use timeout, or punishments at all. I don't use redirection or try to convince kids that 'everything is alright.' I don't force kids to share or even say thank you or please."

Now there was a bit of a pause. I knew what this sounded like... it sounded like permissive parenting... just letting the kids do what ever they want and me having no 'control' over anything. So I quickly added, "why don't I give you an example of how things usually happen?"

And then I described a scenario, I cannot remember what scenario I used, so I'm just going to explain a real life situation that happened in my daycare.

Two of the kids I cared for were about two and a half years old when this happened. They usually played together really well, but sometimes struggled with sharing (totally age appropriate in my opinion.) On this occasion they were playing with the little kitchen and B wanted the toy J was playing with but J didn't want to share it. So B grabbed the toy and J pushed B away. Then B became very angry and raised her hand over her head ready to hit J. I was about three feet away so I stepped in and put my hand in between B and J. B ended up hitting my hand instead of J. Once J knew she was safe she moved back a little and kept playing with her toy. But B was still very angry and raised her hand again and tried to push past me (This all happened in about five seconds! LOL) I said to B, "It looks like you're really angry about something." B growled. "Are you angry because J has a toy you want to play with?" B screams, "YES!!" and continues to try and push past me to get the toy. I say "I will not let you hit J." At this point B starts to stomp her feet and tantrum (We're about 30 seconds into the situation now.) I say, "Wow, you are really upset that J won't give you that toy, I'm really sorry about all this." After a few more stomps B's entire body language changes. She starts to cry. I say, "Are you really sad because you didn't get to use that toy." A tiny little "uh huh" escapes B's lips and she lands on me with a pathetic hug. I rub her back for a couple seconds.

J comes over and offers B a toy (I honestly can't remember if it was the toy in dispute) seeming to say, hey friend, let's play. B giggles with delight and the two are off playing again.

I know that was a lot of words, but the whole interaction lasted between 60 and 90 seconds. And that is a pretty typical duration for these types of conflicts.

If I were to use more a traditional discipline method then first I would be forced to judge which child was in the wrong. Was J wrong for not handing over her toy, or was B wrong for physically insisting on sharing? Also, most tantrum solutions require a child to be removed from the situation for several minutes which could make the conflict last much longer. And children are often told to "say sorry" when they come out of timeout to show remorse... though I doubt very young children really understand remorse as we would like them to, and I wonder if older children just "go through the motions" and say they are sorry with no feeling of remorse.

With the method I have been using:
- There is no judgement, shaming or coercion.
- Empathy is key.
- All emotions are valid and are treated as such (no one is told to not be angry or sad even if these emotions make bystanders feel uncomfortable)
- The conflict is resolved without punishment.
- The fact that children are impulsive, curious beings with an underdeveloped prefrontal lobe (the part of your brain responsible for executive function) is respected.
- My relationship with all children is maintained as a relationship based on trust, respect and compassion.

I could write about this method for pages and pages, and could talk about it for even longer. I've wanted to write this post for a long time, but I've been letting the perfect get in the way of the good enough. It's REALLY important for me to tell people about this method, because I really think it could help build stronger bonds between children and their caregivers. This method is probably very different from how most of us were raised, which is why it isn't really that easy to do. I mess up a lot. And I could write an entirely different post about how I cope with my own short comings... but maybe another day.

If you are interested in this, please contact me. I would be happy to help people learn more about this.

I have learned a lot from Janet Lansbury, who is a guru of sorts when it comes to peaceful parenting. Her blog and podcast are gold and I look forward to new posts and casts like a kid looks forward to the ice cream truck on a muggy 93 degree day.

I also recommend the books Unconditional Parenting by Alfie Kohn and Nonviolent Communication by Marshall Rosenberg. There are lots of other great books on this topic, but those are my two favorites.

In closing, I'll just leave you with one thought. Chances are, if you are a parent or a caregiver, as an adult, you had the power to choose that role. Fortunately few of us are actually forced into this role these days (at least in The United States.) I just want you to think about the fact that your child had no choice to be here, and quite possibly, they feel they as if they have very little power over their own life. That can be a difficult thing for a person, of any age, to work through. But since we chose them, we can choose to be there for them when they are struggling with the many difficulties of learning to do all the things.

Much love.
And as Janet says, "We can do this!"

Why My Babies' Gender Won't Be A "Surprise"

Actual scene from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life 1983

I've been pissed off about gender since puberty.

I remember being the tallest kid in class. I remember being really strong and tossing the bullies around the playground. I remember when we all got to be the same. And then, everything changed.

Suddenly my male friends were taller and stronger and my female friends were interested in things I couldn't care for (makeup, dating etc.) Of course I know that not all girls become super girly... If I existed, there had to be others like me. And as an adult I've met men that I can still toss around (mostly on the roller derby track though :p) Although I know that the aforementioned affliction, puberty, does not adversely effect all people to such extremes, as a kid I felt really confused when this massive transformation began.

In middle school I was lucky enough to discover a great group of awkward, eccentric, down right weird-o friends and they acted almost like a buffer zone so I could still be me. Unfortunately, none of them came with me to college, and I found few people like my teenage friends during my 20s. Then, in my 30s roller derby saved me! I'm now happy to say that I live in a bubble of human individuality which gives me a place to feel safe, accepted and loved.

And now I'm pregnant.

This new adventure has taught me much, and has forced me to really think deeply about things I've always just accepted. Why do I feel/think/act this way? Where did it all come from? Do I actually like it? Do I want to change? I've needed to challenge many of my long standing principles because now not only do I need to make my thoughts on certain things known (because people ask pregnant folk all sorts of questions) but I often have to stand up for what I believe to be best (because people like to tell pregnant people that they don't know what they are talking about... aka "advice.")

Case and point:

My wife and I have no interest in our babies' sex. If we didn't need to have an ultrasound every 3-4 weeks then this wouldn't even be an issue, because we wouldn't be able to see their genitals until after we get to meet them face to tiny face. However, being pregnant with twins means that the doctors watch things really closely because things can go wrong quickly. I'm glad my doctors want to keep us all safe. I just wish that I didn't have to talk about whether or not my children have penises so often.

It seems REALLY odd to me that it's OK to talk about a person's genitalia just because that person doesn't know how to talk yet. I mean, think about it. If you met an adult who didn't really look like a man or a woman... you'd probably be really cautious about using pronouns (he/she) until you knew the person's preference. Right? But with babies, for some reason the rules are different. Apparently it is everyone's right to know what's going on in your baby's diaper. And my babies don't even wear diapers yet!

OK, I'm trying to hold the rage in... This topic has been irritating me for quite some time now. So I apologize if I come off sounding self-righteous and indignant. But let me tell you about my most recent encounter with this issue.

Last week I needed to go into the hospital to check out some issues (fret not, all is well.) While I was there the Physician's Assisntant who was tending to me and asked the ever so common question, "So, do you know what you're having yet?"

---

OK, I have to pause for a second and just tell you how much I HATE this question. Do I know WHAT I am having yet? Like the humans growing inside of me are THINGS??? Seriously? UHG!!! I'm so fed up with the concept of parents treating children like things rather than people. And it starts before the kids are even born!! And comes from medical professionals! Seriously, I strongly believe that the way we speak TO and ABOUT children has a profound impact on how they develop... But that's a topic for another post that I've been trying to write for a month or so... Stay posted ;)

---

I've heard this question so many times that I've got a stock answer for it:
Inquisitive Person: "So, do you know what you're having yet?"
Me: "Yeah, we're having humans."
IP: LOLz

And that's usually where it ends. The person realizes that I am not going to discuss my babies' genitalia with them and they move on. But every now and then, people continue to press for information. Usually I think these people don't understand sarcasm, or humor, or me. So I then clearly state, "We are not finding out the babies' sex before they are born." Well, that usually leads to them smiling and telling me what a great big surprise it will be to gaze between my child's legs shortly after they are born...

...creepy...

Anyway, back to the PA.

After delivering my typical responses she decided to politely imply that we were making the wrong decision. She said, with a near grimace, "I mean, sure, you can buy a bunch of yellow and green clothes now. But then, after they are born, you aren't going to want to go out to Target and get all the pink or blue stuff you'll need. It's really best to just be prepared."

...

... ...

... ... ...

Sometimes I really miss being an irrational, emotional, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, imprudent teenager who has a "problem with authority." Life was so much "easier" back then. I really just wanted to scream at her... but I also wanted to get out of the ER and go home. So I swallowed my pride and decided to ignore this person who I would probably never see again.

For the record, let me get a few things straight:
1. Boys can wear pink.
2. Girls can wear blue.
3. I really, honestly and fully do not care what my babies' genders are.

And, perhaps most importantly:

4. I do not believe that knowing what kind of genitals my babies are born with will give me ANY information about who they are. I believe that who a person is, goes so much deeper than what society says they should be based on the presence or absence of a penis.

And, also important to note, just because your baby is born with a penis or a vagina does not mean that they will be a boy or a girl! I have several friends who were born with one style of equipment and later in life shared with the world that they were born with the wrong parts. I get it, I run in a weird circle, where I actually encounter people who are different from me... but come on!!

So, will the gender of our babies be some exciting surprise my wife and I are looking forward to? No. Google defines surprise as an unexpected or astonishing fact. Discovering if our children have a penis or a vagina will not be unexpected or astonishing... I'm fairly certain they will have one or the other.









Disclaimer: I know that there are some people who really care about gender... And that's their thing. I wrote this because there are people like me, who don't give a flying fuck about gender, and maybe the next time you encounter someone like me you could just let them be. (Disclaimer for the disclaimer: By "you" I mean, that guy that probably won't read blogs like this... so don't worry, I'm probably not talking about you.)

Pregnancy: An Epic Mind-fuck

Warning - this post contains expletives.

Once I had started my journey to becoming an adult ("adult" being defined as the period in one's life when one starts accepting responsibility for their choices by using mindful reflection to guide one's thoughts and actions... Which rarely happens until a person's late twenties to early thirties... If, indeed, it ever does happen) I had decided that creating my own humans was unnecessary and unappealing. And because everything in this world, yes even my own  proclamations, is impermanent, when I turned 35 I had begun to consider making my own human. Once my wife agreed we went full steam ahead.

I really had no idea what to expect from pregnancy. I've seen so many people go through it, and each person has seemed to endure the process uniquely. I just assumed I'd be uncomfortable, if not a bit squeamish, for about a year and then I could move on to figuring out parenthood. I never realized how much pregnancy could consume not only my every waking thought but even my half-awake thoughts as I wished for the inoculation of slumber. (As I write this it is 4 AM and I've been awake for at least an hour) Ruminating is just one of those things I've always done, often to excess, and especially when I'm experiencing something new.

My parents said they could see the wheels turning in my head even when I was very young.

Over the last couple of months, as my growing belly has kept this pregnancy more at the forefront of my conscience thought, I've started to develop some opinions about this experience. And you know me, I just love to share ;)

Pregnancy has its own plan, and doesn't inform you of that plan until the action steps have become obvious.

I didn't plan on triplets, or coping with the loss of a three inch long human I'd never meet. I didn't plan on growing so fast that I'd need to beg for clothes I knew I'd grow out of in a month. And, never having experienced much in the way of PMS, I never considered how imprisoned I could feel due to my own hormonal fluctuations and aberrant emotions.

I've often struggled with accepting myself, and over the past few years I have experienced significant growth in this area. Now that I am confronted with an entirely new version of myself I am once again struggling to accept this me. I've been attempting to focus my mental energies on appreciating the beauty of impermanence as I feel everything that is me mutate. Then I am often paralyzed by the question, "Once this metamorphose is complete, who/what will I be?" However, beyond that moment of panic, pregnancy has helped me to be more aware of the ever changing nature of life.

Pregnancy is immobilizing.

After last year (stricken with pneumonia for months, broken elbow, numerous sad events) I thought I knew what it felt like to be incapacitated. And yet through all of last year's barriers I played a lot of derby, ran four half marathons, got married and kept on being me. I thought I had learned what it meant to be tired after jamming four roller derby games in two days, but as usual, life had more to teach me. I am currently 17 weeks pregnant... And although I have had a lot more energy over the past two weeks, I have never felt so exhausted from just sitting around. Of course everyone has been keen to remind me, "You're not doing nothing, you're gestating!"

But it's not just the exhaustion. I've never really said to myself, "Hmm... I wonder if I can do that." In my head it usually sounds like, "I'm gonna try that." I'm sure those probably sound like the same thing, but the former thought can actually prevent someone from doing something, while the latter doesn't. There are so many things I've wanted to do recently that I haven't even tried. And that gets to the heart of my current frustrations. It is this incapacitated mindset that has me truly hamstrung. And I'm not even sure if that's a bad thing (especially when you consider that my idea of a good time is running away from people who are trying to hit me into next week)

Terrifying and exciting. Jamming is like a roller coaster I never have to wait in line for!

And yet, even as I see pregnancy as such a pivotal, life altering experience, one fact cannot be ignored: pregnancy is not uncommon. While I am experiencing this in my own unique way, just as I have experienced all that life has to offer, making humans is still something that an enormous number of people personally experience at some point in their life.

The fact that I'm only halfway through this journey (which, since the average twin birth occurs at 35 weeks gestation, is a statistically accurate statement) has me thinking that I'm writing this post prematurely. What do I even know about pregnancy? This is probably just the tip of the iceberg. It's like a 13 year old writing about their teenage experience.

Though my thoughts be immature, I still see value in sharing them. And I appreciate the time you've spent, sharing this experience with me. Thank you friend.

Me, a few days shy of 17 weeks gestation.

Being "Nice"... While Pregnant... With Multiples

It didn't matter how informed we were of the risks associated with using fertility drugs, we were still surprised. If my blood work had been a magic eight ball, when we asked how likely it is that insemination will work the answer would have been, "Outlook not so good." We had a very short term success our first month without any drugs, but my uterus decided that was just a test run. So we took the doctor's advice, and medicine, and waited month after month as I produced between two and five eggs... and yet nothing happened.

The day before I took the home pregnancy test I played my second to last roller derby game for the season. I definitely felt off. I was MUCH more tired than usual. They tell you to wait two minutes after taking the test before looking... The observational scientist in me couldn't look away. Within ten seconds the stick was screaming PREGNANT! The line couldn't have been more clear, and I was shocked it presented itself so quickly.

The doctors tested my blood and said I had a really good result and asked me to come in for an ultrasound. Now I know that the "really good result" line is code for "a crap-ton of hcg and probably multiples" Going into the ultrasound appointment I was pretty sure we had more than one. And when the doctor started the scan, though I didn't really know what I was looking for, I knew there was a lot more going on in there than was supposed to be gong on.

"Oh no, why does this keep happening to you guys?" said our Doctor, with obvious frustration. He was looking at three tiny embryos and their rapidly beating hearts. The chance for triplets was so incredibly low, especially with the poor numbers I had from the blood work, that though I had thought about it, I hadn't really THOUGHT about it. 

Shocked? I guess that's the best word I can find to explain it now... But keep in mind, these early ultrasounds are done vaginally... so I was already in a rather uncomfortable and awkward position, and now I felt even more naked. I wondered how I should respond. Should I freak out and scream? Hmmm... I think that could result in some kind of horrible ultrasound wand projectile to the face situation for my doctor, and I really like the guy, so no, I couldn't do that. Instead I just waited. How was my wife reacting? I think she was waiting to see how I would react! :) I think we were both a bit frozen. 

My cell phone takes crappy photos. Two embryos are easy to see, the third is hiding in the lower right.

Our doctor took some pictures for us, and apologized for maybe being too aggressive. And said they'd have to watch me closely now. We had just taken a flying leap into the land of high risk pregnancies.

Well, now that you know what my mind has been cluttered with lately now it's time to explain my predicament. Last September my wife and I went to a simplicity conference as part of our honeymoon. At one point in the conference people were encouraged to stand up in front of the group and share their passion. Initially I wasn't planning to share, mostly because I assumed no one would be interested, but as I thought about it I began to feel driven.

My passion is people, in particular, children. And I had just read the book Unconditional Parenting by Alfie Kohn and began to uncover an entirely new understanding of how adults must interact with children if we are to have the kind of world most of us want (peaceful, loving, accepting, innovative, fun, helpful etc.) So, I nervously got up and spoke, you can see the video here if you want to, it's only a few minutes long... and you might enjoy watching me sweat :)

Basically I asked people to be kind to tiny humans a.k.a. children. I tried to express that it is only through our kindness that children can grow to become the kind, loving, self assured people we hope they will become.

And I noticed that in the video notes the convention organizer had listed my blog as a place to learn more about me! So yikes! I had better write something new! 

But what to write? I feel like crap. My head is all over the place. I feel bad for the kids I watch because I spend so much of the day crumpled on the couch in misery or exhaustion. And, though I feel sad to mention it, I have snapped at the tiny humans I love and care for over the past few weeks. So now I felt like a fraud, like a hypocrite! The worst kind of human. Why can't I even take my own advice?!

...

Have you ever learned something new, and even though it was a mind blowing eureka kind of moment you still found yourself forgetting to apply it in the context of the real world? Maybe that's just a normal part of learning something new. But I'm glad I had this post to think about because it reminded me of one of the most important things I've learned recently.

Yes, it is so important to be kind, to give empathy to those in pain. We need to realize that when someone lashes out at us, it is because they are hurting inside, because someone or something lashed out at them. And then, to take it a step further we need to take this inside ourselves and notice that when we lash out at others it is because we are in pain. And if we are in pain, there is an important step for us to do before we try to give empathy to others. We need to give empathy to ourselves.

If we are not filled with love, then how can we give love? If no one is there to hold us and recharge us, then we need to remember that with self-empathy we can recharge ourselves! 

How do we give ourselves empathy? Step one, is to listen. When I'm really upset, I ask myself why... what's going on? Lately I've been scared. There's a lot going on... I think my head is more full than my uterus is! Step two, is to tell me, that I heard me. Sometimes I'll even say to myself, "You're scared because you know how dangerous this is and your health is really important to you, and you're also afraid to lose your children." I remind myself that these are my feelings and that they are valid, and that I can feel them for as long as I want or need to. Step three, hug. For me this usually looks like a peaceful smile when I hug myself with my mind. Repeat as needed. 

This process felt really weird and even phony when I first did it, but I couldn't argue with how much better I felt after that mental counseling session. So now I've got this list that I want to enlarge, print and hang in my house:

1. Be kind.

2. If you can't be kind to someone, remember that they are in pain.

3. If you still can't be kind to them, notice that you are in pain.

4. Acknowledge your own pain, validate it.

5. Love yourself, just as you are.

6. Repeat as necessary.

I hope this can help someone, though I mostly wrote it for myself. Writing helps me process this stuff. I'd be interested in knowing what you think about this, and what helps you process life's more complicated lemons.

Vegan Toddler Meals

I don't have any of my own kids yet, but for the past two years I have run a small daycare out of my home. The food I feed my daycare kids has always been vegetarian and over time has become increasingly more vegan. Right now, aside from the dairy milk I serve as a drink with breakfast and lunch, the meals I serve are vegan. I serve dairy milk because I participate in my state's food program and I need to meet certain regulations to earn money for the meals I serve. If a parent requested a dairy alternative I would happily provide it.

I used to take pictures of my food a lot and post it on Facebook and lately I've been spending less and less time on social media so I thought I'd try a new way to share images of the food I make.

This is a pretty standard meal. Brown rice, beans, veggie side and fresh fruit. I usually make my beans from scratch but these came from a can since I was pressed for time. I steamed the kale and put raw tomatoes and bell peppers on top. I usually put some new or relatively new food on her plate at lunch each day. This time it was steamed kale. She tried it and started talking about broccoli which I thought was cool since the two plants are closely related.

This is probably one of her favorite meals. Lentil sloppy joes with brown rice. Cucumbers and bell peppers on the side. The lentil recipe is one of my favorites too because it's sooooo easy!

http://www.forksoverknives.com/recipes/sloppy-lentil-joes/

Here is a typical breakfast. I only serve sugar free, whole grain cereal. Currently wheat squares with a sprinkle of cinnamon are her favorite. My wife makes a smoothie with apples, bananas, kale and strawberries most mornings and my tiny friend always asks for some.

This picture is missing the chick peas, I forget stuff in the microwave often ;) This meal was a total experiment. The soup is broccoli cream soup and the sandwich is grilled chao (an amazing vegan cheese) and she loved them both! The pile of carrots and cucombers was my insurance that at least something would get eaten, much to my surprise the whole meal was devoured.

http://fieldroast.com/product/chao-slices/

We all eat the same stuff at my house, even me. And this is one of my favorites. Miso soup with udon, bean sprouts, tofu and seaweed. The green beans went in touched which surprised me cause she was all over them for snack the day before. Brown rice is hiding behind the bowl and apples are always delicious. I left the chick peas in the microwave again! I tend to remember about them once I'm seated and eating :)

Sometimes I think she likes opening the clementine more than eating it! 

So, that was a sampling of what I eat with my two year old friend every day. The food is simple, inexpensive, healthy and the toddler eats it :)