I Have A Confession To Make...

     I'm going to throw it out there... because I know I'm not alone.

I struggle with insecurity, anxiety, and trying hard to feel good about myself and like I have something to offer this world. I struggle with keeping my head held high when I just want to slink into the background. I struggle to initiate conversations and communications with people when there is a voice in my head telling me no one really cares that much about me anyway. I find that the closer I am to fulfilling the purpose I was created for on this earth, the louder that voice screams telling me everything it can to keep me, and my gifts, hidden from this world.

My gift is my voice; not my vocal speaking voice, but the heart, soul, and spirit that make up who I am that can connect to people in this world who need some encouragement and a reminder that God created them with a purpose...

I get lost sometimes when I am beaten down... but God reminds me of this:

Ephesians 6:12 (KJV)
¹² For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

I have God's voice encouraging me and the Devil trying to destroy me and bring up past insecurities that are lies.

The Devil wants to keep us hidden. If we are hidden, we don't shine the special Light God places in each of us when we become His disciples. If there is no Light, Darkness takes over...

The Devil also likes to keep us disconnected, isolated, and feeling alone. The saying is true, most of the time, that there is strength in numbers. The Enemy likes to use our weaknesses, vulnerabilities, and insecurities to tell us we aren't worth it, aren't good enough, aren't smart enough, etc., all to keep us from taking that leap of faith in truly living for God and shining for Him. Think about it...

Do you struggle with those feelings? Do you notice it may be around times when you are finally feeling good and ready to do whatever you feel God is calling you to do? Now, if you aren't a follower of Christ and have no clue of what I am talking about, keep reading because it is still applicable...

Here's another big confession for a huge insecurity of mine... puns intended.

I have struggled with my weight and health since I was little.

It's the quickest way to get at me and cause me to hide in the shadows. I grew up with teasing. Being the butt of the jokes, the girl no one wanted to date, the one that got picked on and teased, picked last, and so on.

I spent many years holding back tears inside while trying to keep a stony face on the outside while people cut me down with words... family members too. It ate away at the inside. On top of other issues going on in my life, I became completely broken inside feeling I had absolutely no worth.

I still struggle with those feelings sometimes... especially when I am just about to take big leaps in the right direction.

I have been determined to get fit for a very long time, yet every single time I got to the point where I saw results, I would shy away, step back, and lose the momentum I had gain. I've done that with everything. Self-sabotage. It goes back to those feelings of not being good or worthy enough... And also of not wanting to be in the spotlight... and not wanting people to deflate me just like they always do when I finally start feeling good about myself and head in the right direction.

You know what though... the older I get, the shorter my patience gets with that stuff. I don't want to spend any more of my life hiding in the shadows or being the only one that's holding me back.

I have already overcome so many obstacles in life. I may be weak at times, struggle, and fail... but I'm a fighter and I never truly give up.

Are you like me?

Are you a warrior inside ready to be let out?

Go for it!

I'm going to start sharing my journey towards a better me and I really hope that not only will I inspire some people along the way, but that some might actually reach out to me and we can do this together. We all need encouragement and support when we are trying to better ourselves.

So... the main purpose of this post is to start holding myself accountable.

I took a big leap 5 months ago when I invested the money by getting a gym membership. It was a huge commitment to myself... especially since I had just had a baby... and just officially moved into our new home and I became a first time home owner... and especially since I was taking online courses for my degree full time and homeschooling my oldest child and trying to pursue some of my passions to turn those into realities...

There was no consistency for quite a while and only now am getting on somewhat of a schedule. I've been to the gym at all hours, seriously. 11 p.m. 2 a.m. 4 a.m. and so on. Whenever I could, whenever my husband could take over for me and watch our kids. I would be so exhausted, still am sometimes, but I do it anyway. The result so far, I am actually gaining weight instead of losing, but I'm not freaking out about it. I know I am gaining muscle. I see it, feel it, and see the results when I am at the gym and keep increasing the weights I'm lifting. Soon, the pounds will start dropping. I've done diets and fitness routines and nothing ever worked for me for long. Yo-yo dieting and fitness plans. Then I finally realized it has got to be about an entire lifestyle overhaul, including my mindset. It can't just be about reaching a certain number on the scale or looking a certain way. If I'm always comparing myself to others, I'm always going to lose, and that's not exactly a healthy mindset anyway. We need to focus on competing only with ourselves. So that's what I've been doing, and it's finally working.

Instead of burning out, I'm only getting more and more motivated, despite exhaustion.

Tonight, after being so tired and ready for bed, I went to the gym to get my workout in. I had a goal on the stairmaster of 14 floors. I struggled so hard to make it to that, but something happened. As much as my body was screaming, I kept pushing, telling myself I wasn't going to die yet. One more step. One more step. I didn't focus on the goal that seemed so hard to get to. I just focused on one more step, and one more step, and one more step. Until... I saw GOAL ACHIEVED on the machine's screen. I was so pumped that I kept going... and going. One more step. One more step... until I reached 511 steps and 32 floors!!! For some, that may be nothing. For me, that was HUGE. My goal is to reach 100 floors and I feel like I am well on my way. I actually had to force myself to stop because my goal is not to push myself so hard that I burn myself out, but that I keep doing enough to stay encouraged.

Now, my legs are definitely feeling it and I know tomorrow will be so hard to peel myself out of bed, but inside I feel AWESOME. Strong. Like that warrior is getting ready to do some serious damage and shine some bright Light in this world. I felt like each step taken tonight, each rep lifted on the different weight machines, and every other positive choice I've made regarding my health and well-being is a punch in the Enemy's face and a punch to my insecurity.

Please, keep going. Whatever it is. Whatever your goals are, those things you know you need to do but keep letting fear or fatigue or whatever else get in the way. Just start with one step in the right direction. Then keep going, one step at a time. Don't focus on how far you have to go, just focus on that one step. When you reach that, then do the next one.

What are you waiting for?!

Until next time...

Another Year, Another NaNoWriMo

     I am determined this year.

     I have been through so much and feel like I am finally gaining ground on becoming the woman I know is in me, the one that was in me even when I was a little girl, but has struggled to break out of that shell. I am in the cocoon phase trying to break free so I can be the butterfly I was meant to be.

     There are so many challenges and areas of my life I am focusing on. All of them, actually.

     I am struggling with all of them too and learning that every moment of every day is a continual challenge of making either productive of destructive choices; ones that either get me closer to my goals or further away.

     Currently, I am so tired, my baby is napping, and I am faced with that dilemma of "do I nap now so I can have more energy to tackle my tasks later like cleaning house, cooking dinner, going to the gym, and staying up late to write, or do I work now so maybe I can get a little more sleep later?" Parenthood is never easy, nor is lack of sleep and life in general... but I'm getting there and I'm definitely growing.

     Ok, determination and progress are my key words this year. I have one year left before I turn thirty. Less than that. I am realizing I will likely never have it "all together" since life keeps throwing me curveballs and just when I get the hang of something it all changes again. I am in a constant state of "recomputing" and trying to figure out what the heck to do to get it right and not let all my balls in the air come crashing down. Eep!

     Progress.
     Determination.
     One wobbly step in front of the other.
     Repeat.

     I am trying to make a conscious effort of surrounding myself with beauty and things that remind me of beauty, things that inspire me, and things that help me focus on making my dreams into realities.

     Nature, instrumental music, butterflies in my garden, cool breeze, homemade tea and herbal remedies, feeling the sun on my face...

     I am realizing that in order to create beauty I must continually experience it in varying forms in different ways. That old saying rings true 'You are what you eat.' If I fill myself up on noise, distraction, the garbage of life then how can I produce beautiful things and be beautiful myself? I believe we are products of our environments in different ways. I am trying so hard to make our home beautiful too, a sanctuary as we feel it is meant to be, but moving into a new home with a newborn and all those other life challenges makes it difficult, as well as keeping up with everything else.

     I have learned to not be afraid to ask for help. It's not a pride thing, it's really an 'I'm so sick of everyone judging me and turning up their noses at me for being human' kind of a thing. Ok, not everyone, but certain people whom I am "close" to like to tear me apart in different ways, or they are pleasant to my face then rip me apart and twist things behind my back. So tired of it. That's one thing I'm learning to let go of. Realizing I have the power to say NO to toxic people. When it begins to destroy my life and all that I feel God is having me to do, then it's time to let go and say NO. Draw those lines, set the boundaries, and keep my eyes fixed on the goal.

     NaNoWriMo is just another challenge to add to my growing pot.
I planned on writing anyway and this is an excellent push and support system for that. I will never finish if I don't start. I will never continue if I don't surround myself with a positive environment. For writing, it is NaNoWriMo. For getting healthy, it is going to the gym and subscribing to plant-based athlete emails and reading articles. For parenting and homeschool, it is joining Facebook communities for homeschooling parents and reading articles and comments from people who are like-minded and can help me prioritize and let go of unrealistic expectations. For life, it is trying to spend more alone time with God, in prayer and reading the Bible... and sometimes, it's knowing when it's ok to just throw in the towel for the day and say "I'm done. I'm not cleaning. I'm not stressing. I'm also not cooking dinner." Take-out, movies, walks outside in the fresh air, and being in bed are sometimes the best ways to get balanced.

     One step at a time.
     Progress.
     Determination.

     If you take two steps forward and one step back, at least you'll still wind up being one step ahead.


     Walk on, my friends.

Until next time...

My All Natural Birth Story: It Is Possible Ladies

    
     It has been six months since my precious, noisy, daredevil little dude escaped from the safety of my womb into this crazy world. I figured it was time to share our story for those who may be interested or benefit from it.

     I knew before I was pregnant this time that if I ever did become pregnant again I would do whatever it took to have either a home birth or one at a birth center. I refused to step foot in a hospital again to birth my baby after the traumatic experience of my first birth, if I could at all help it. I will reserve that story for a separate blog post on hospital vs. birth centers.

     There is a severe lack of birth centers in my location, two to be exact. The first one I went to did not work out for reasons I will mention in another post and wound up closing mid-pregnancy. The second I was referred to and was my perfect match. They shared my beliefs about childbirth and was very holistic/nature minded. I was so impressed. They offered nutrition classes, breastfeeding, essential oils, cloth diapers, and labor prep classes also. Since I was so sick during my pregnancy and having to drive all the way to Naples was not something we could do at those times I wasn't able to attend the classes. I wish I would have. We did pay for a labor and delivery class that worked with both my spouse and I to offer suggestions for positions, pain-relief techniques, and basically to help prep my husband on how to coach me through. We got to get comfortable in one of the rooms so we had more of a feel of it in preparation for the big day.

     With my first birth, I chose a natural birth with midwives that was based out of the hospital. I only had a mild painkiller that they said was the equivalent to two margaritas. It took the edge off, but was still without epidural or any of those other meds. This time, it was completely natural. I believe that God perfectly designed a woman's body to not only grow, but birth children. There are so many things that happen without us knowing. Our bodies, and the babies bodies, all prep for birth at the perfect time, getting things just right. I believe when man tries to intercede and treat it as a procedure or abnormal thing (like the hospital/doctor mindset is) is when things go wrong and I have a suspicion is what leads to an increase of postpartum depression. In a hospital, a woman is hooked up to an IV, basic rights and control of her and her baby's body taken away, and being forced to be injected with things or treated in very clinical and unnatural (unhealthy) ways, giving birth in the unnatural position of lying on one's back that goes against gravity making it harder to give birth leading to more tearing and also slows down labor leading to an increase in C-sections... and I could go on an on with the faulty methods and procedures of hospital births.

     I will also state that every birth center and every birth story is completely different and unique, so one must use caution and that good-ole Mom-gut to make decisions that are life-altering as this.

     My experience with the birth center was phenomenal. It was so nice going into each appointment where they greeted me by name and they took the time to answer any and every question I had, going in detail and making sure I was satisfied. It was never rushed and they deliberately scheduled enough time at appointments for questions and concerns. They never rushed through or made me feel like just a number or a paycheck to them. I was a person, a mom, and a woman who valued the natural process of childbearing. I was not treated as an idiot who knew less about my body and what was best for me and my baby than what a textbook could tell them. I loved that I had a voice. Hospitals and doctors don't give you one, at least not in my experience.

     So, at 39 weeks and safe to have baby I ordered Clary Sage essential oil. Clary Sage is something I was introduced to in the labor prep class and was told to not even sniff it because it could induce labor. Well, the night I received my Clary Sage oil was a Thursday. I had my usual bath of Epsom salt and lavender. My joints were so achy this pregnancy that I was in tears sometimes from about the 5th month on and my lovely midwife informed me of magnesium which does a lot of awesome stuff, but also helps to relieve joint paint, and it sure worked. Epsom salt contains magnesium, btw. I add the Clary Sage oil to my bath and soaked for quite a while. I was ready for my wee-one to come out and felt he was ready too. My body was hurting so bad anyway and I was afraid of tearing like I had experienced the first time around so I didn't want him getting any bigger before he came out. The next morning I woke up at 8 a.m. with labor pains. From then on it was the waiting game where the contractions started slowing down. I would try to rest, then try to walk, and keep things moving along. By the evening I was getting so discouraged thinking the contractions would go away altogether, but I kept sniffing the Clary Sage oil at different intervals and then Lavender to help relax myself, and the contractions were super strong after sniffing the Clary Sage. I was also warned by my midwives that the second time around I should expect a shorter labor time with more intense contractions. Boy were they!!!

     By 8 o'clock that night, I had my husband get some rest to prepare for whenever the real labor would actually come. I think I lasted until after midnight before I woke him. It hurt so much and was much more intense than when I was pregnant the first time. It took all I had to get through each contraction. I spent a lot of the time in labor in the shower, sniffing my lavender, timing contractions, hoping and praying it would be over soon. They were like mind-numbing. I never understood that term until my second time in labor. Whew! So, after talking to the midwife and getting her input, she wanted me to wait longer until they were stronger and closer together. When it got to that point it seemed like it was truly the point of no return and my baby was ready to get out. It was so quick after that. About 2:30 we gather everything and everyone. 3 ish we are driving to Naples (about a 35 min. drive) with me on my knees facing backwards in the driver's seat because of the intense contractions. We get there about 3:30 I think and I am hoping we make it on time because I just had this fear of not making it to the birth center to have my baby, or something going wrong.

     There were about 3 other moms in labor with me that night. We got taken to our room and immediately I was hit with more contractions. I barely had time to do anything or say anything between them except to motion for my husband to come over and help. The only thing that really helped me through, and we learned this technique through the labor prep class, was me on my knees holding a pillow or the birthing ball and him using both hands with all his force to press down on my lower back, and his poor arms were shaking with how hard he would press. It was truly labor for him also. The contractions were maddening and nothing really alleviated it. I barely had time to sniff my lavender before another would come on. I did ask for a mild pain reliever, but they didn't offer any and cautioned about how any pain reliever might slow down the labor and delivery process, so I had peace with that despite the intensity that I was not prepared for.

     I so wanted a water birth, but that didn't happen for two reasons. One, was because we did not get the room we originally wanted and for some strange reason the jets in that tub were not in the oval parts, but on the sides, thus I had to sit in the narrow part with my big belly during contractions to have the jets on me. It was not comfortable. The second reason was that I was only 90% effaced.

    By the time I really felt the pressure and knew my baby was ready whether I was fully effaced or not, I was in bed on my back begging my midwife to break my water because the pressure was so intense and I was ready to fully push. Both times in pregnancy my water had to be manually broken (It doesn't hurt, by the way, just pressure and like a little pinch). My sweet husband was holding my hand through it, getting me water to drink or wetting my head with a cold washcloth.

     The thing I loved about my midwives and the family-type setting they provide, is that there is nothing much more intimate than having your midwife manually holding back the part of your cervix that is blocking the way for the baby to come out while you push. Seriously. I was grateful to have already gotten to know them so well and feel comfortable with them. Otherwise, that would have really stunk to have to trust someone that much in that awkward of a position whom I had just met.

     Moving on, my water was broke, my midwife was holding open my cervix so my sweet baby could come through and I was so exhausted. I was afraid of tearing so I asked my midwife for advice on a better position and she recommended getting on my knees on the bed and facing the wall with my back towards them while I held onto a pillow. That was how I had my baby and so much better than lying on my back going against gravity and my body's design. I pushed hard and felt my baby moving down the canal. What an amazing moment that was. Scary, exciting, super-emotional, and like on the last leg of the race. I was afraid to push because I was so afraid of tearing (had fourth degree tears my first pregnancy and was basically ripped apart, to shreds, from the inside out due to the idiocy of them giving my Pitocin when I was already pushing my son out), but I knew it had to be done so I prayed and prepared myself and pushed. Down my baby came. My husband was about to leave to get me another rag with more ice, but they warned him not to leave, and a good thing too. I was ready for my baby to come out and I was the one in control of it. I felt him in my birth canal so I just bore down and pushed and pushed and pushed until the head came out, and then the hardest part of pushing those broad shoulders out, but I knew once the shoulders were out then the rest would be easy, and it was. I felt my body opening up for him and I felt when the resistance gave way and his little body, and the other stuff, all came sliding out. I heard my midwives excitement and knew my boy was safely out. I turned around to look and there was this bloody, messy, beautiful little creature. I'm getting emotional thinking about it now.

     If I was under the influence of an epidural, or any of the other numbing drugs, sure I would not have felt the intense pain, but I wouldn't have felt the beautiful moments either. I wouldn't have been the one on control of my body pushing out his, feeling every bit of it, the parts that didn't hurt, but were truly an experience. I think having a drug-free and all natural birth helped me to cherish my baby more and bond with him. That is something that mother's with epidurals, C-sections, and other drugs are robbed of and I am so grateful I "pushed" through and did it the way God intended and I knew in my heart was right. I will say, it was AMAZING to be able to eat what I wanted when I wanted after I gave birth and not be given crummy hospital food. It was AMAZING to be able to choose not to give my sweet boy shots or be taken away from me to be bathed and poked and prodded. They treasure those moments with mom, dad, and baby's first moments outside the womb. My baby lay on me with cord still attached for quite some time, until I said I was ready. They did not wash or scrub him as baby is naturally coated with things that are healthy to his skin. So, he went home with a little blood on him and I used a wipe to clean him off later, amazed that the majority had just absorbed into his skin and it was super smooth and not waxy or weird like my first son's.
     It was AMAZING to have the private time after birth to just focus on myself and my sweet baby and recover from that huge experience. It truly is labor. I was physically and emotionally exhausted and so grateful I hadn't caved to the pressures of family and had that time set apart for just me, my husband, oldest son, and baby. I was in pain too. I did have one small tear, but my midwife did an amazing job with stitching me back up and also soothing my fears. She was a great comfort to me, especially with her soothing, calm ways. She had a wonderful bedside manner and I trusted her completely. They were friends, not just people getting paid. It was amazing that I got to choose the what, when, and how's of things. It was AMAZING being able to get up and leave at 1 ish in the afternoon after giving birth that morning and be back home within twelve hours of when we first left, spending the night in my own bed and the comfort of my own home, not confined to a hospital bed, doctor's orders, nasty food, stupid rules, or being attached to a painful I.V. "just in case" that hindered me from fully holding my baby. It was done my way, and that is how every single birth experience should be done. Mother's are not stupid. We know our bodies better than any doctor or anyone else can tell us. We have an instinct that we have been bullied into mistrusting with the use of fear tactics and misinformation on top of being made to feel ignorant and inferior to these 'high-quality educations." Blech. I will move on so it doesn't turn into a rant on how much I loathe the hospital/medical system...

     We brought our own food to the birth center and had full use of the microwave and fridge. My oldest son sat in the front waiting room with his tablet watching movies and reading magazines and they were perfectly fine with that. We all felt safe, secure, and free to focus on the beauty of childbirth. My baby wasn't ripped from me by uncaring and harsh nurses to be forcefully scrubbed and prodded. He was gently and lovingly cared for by mother's and treasured by them also, delighting in him just like me, his own mother. It was not a clinical, sterile, cold room full of people getting paid, but filled with mother's who genuinely loved what they do and loved the babies, and mamas, they took care of.

     I had a birth playlist going the whole time on my computer and it was so calming and relaxing afterwards. The assistant helped me go to the bathroom and took care of me each time. She didn't rush me, wasn't harsh, she was gentle and caring, soothing. I honestly couldn't ask for a better experience and if I ever get pregnant again, will without hesitation go back to them.
Oh, and I was also able to walk out of the birth center on my own without having to be wheeled out by a nurse. Awesome!!! I wasn't treated like an invalid or some sick person, but a beautiful healthy mother who just underwent a beautiful and natural healthy process. They even took our picture as a family to place on their wall and create a birth announcement that is shared on their walls.

     I want to share this because I see that so many women are simply uneducated about the options available and that there is so much stigma and fear tactics whenever we do things "out of the box," but let's just remember that women have given birth naturally since the beginning of time and we seem to be doing okay. ;-) Hospitals are not the only options. We mothers DO have choices regarding what to do with our bodies, our pregnancy, our birth, and our precious babies. Don't let anyone strip that right away from you or make you afraid to follow your gut with a natural birth.


~ Until next time...

P.S. Please forgive any spelling/grammar errors. My mind is a fog of exhaustion right now. ;-)