When a birth story isn't what you "planned"

When I was pregnant with Gabe, I wrote up a birth plan just like you are told to do in your pre-natal classes. However, it all got thrown to the waste-side when I ended up having an unplanned C-Section due to fetal distress.

Never once was I disappointed that I had to have a C-Section. I never felt the need to have a "natural" birth. But I'm not going to lie, the recovery was horrific. So when I learned I was pregnant this time I was determined to have more control over the birth story of this baby. I opted for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) and got right to work preparing for a successful one. 

It wasn't that I felt the need to experience childbirth, or was opposed to medical intervention through another C-Section. It was really just the recovery that concerned me. There was no way I could have the recovery that I did when I had Gabe - except this time I would have not only a newborn, but a 3-year-old in tow to recovery with. So I did research on VBAC's, I talked to doula's on how to be successful, I went to pre-natal Yoga and prepared mentally for labour. 

Then at 37 weeks I learned my baby was fully breach. Since I didn't want to deliver breach or do an external rotation, we looked to schedule a C-Section. Our baby suprised both us and our Dr when she flipped into head down position at 39 1/2 weeks. We were faced with the decision to have the C-Section as planned (which we were very mentally prepared for, since it was only 3 days away) or go ahead and wait and try for a VBAC as originally planned. After much thought we decided to wait. And wait. And wait...until finally 41 1/2 weeks came and I wasn't progressing, at all. 

At this point my options were a foley cathetar to try and force progression, or a C-Section. Since I've had a C-Section before my options were somewhat limited when it comes to trying to induce labour and the Dr really wouldn't let me go past 42 weeks. We decided that we had tried enough for a VBAC and it was time to go with the C-Section and met our baby already. That was Thursday morning. Our Dr told us she would call us later that day after she found some OR time.

We waited. 4 o'clock and no call.

5 o'clock and no call. 

We finally decided that Dr probably wasn't going to call today. And since she wasn't in the office on Friday that likely meant we were going to go another weekend without our baby. 

Then 6 o'clock the phone rang. Dr wanted us to come down to the hospital and she was going to get us in tonight. I freaked out a little bit. That was so...soon. I had to say goodbye to my sweet baby boy who, after tonight, would no longer be my only baby. I was nervous for what lay ahead and heartbroken to leave Gabe.

Once we got admitted to the hospital we were so fortunate and blessed to have a friend as our L&D nurse. She brought me more encouragement and comfort then I think she realized. And by 1:35AM Addilyn made her appearance into the world.

I thought I would be disappointed by her birth story. But the moment that sweet girl was laid on my chest during her first few breaths of life, it just didn't matter anymore. The wait was over. The decisions were over. She was finally here. I was so overjoyed.

I thought that I would struggle to multiply my love between my two babies. But with Addy, my love grew instantaneously. I was so overwhelmed with love for my sweet girl that with her first heartbeat it was as though I could barely remember my life our life as a family before her.

The thing is, when Gabe entered the world he made Jason and I into a family and that was the sweetest gift he could have ever given us. When Addy entered the world she completed our family. It felt like we were finally a whole unit. The way we were always meant to be. A perfect family of four. And that's the best gift she could have ever given us.

I am beyond grateful for my two babes, even though neither of their birth stories were what I would have planned or expected - it doesn't even matter anymore. I have more love then my heart can hold. 

Everybody lies (and other simple truths) : Pregnancy lasts for 9 months

 

More then once I have complained to my husband that my least favorite month of pregnancy was the 10th month. More then once I have been met with a blank stare.

I have news for you my friends...pregnancy goes beyond 9 months. I could make a good case for it lasting for 11 months. Once your body releases your beautiful bundle of joy into the world, it is still not your own (your body that is). The changes that I went through over the next month of post-partum recovery almost seemed greater then the changes I went through when I actually had Gabe still inside of me. It was unexpected. It was overwhelming. And as I think about having another baby in the very near future, it is not the anxiety of bringing home a newborn again. No, it is the postpartum anxiety because I now know what to expect. I know there's a 10th month to this pregnancy.

And here, for your reading pleasure (and so that I may enlighten a few moms-to-be or someday-moms-to-be) is a list of some things you may or may not experience once you give birth. Some ways in which, after you have baby, your body is still changing and adapting. I remember looking at my husband one day asking him it was it was ever going to end. It seemed like one change or discomfort, etc. after another.

I will spare you all the details, and I am just going to touch on my top 5 "highlights".

1. Let me start with probably my very least favorite. The milk coming in. Seriously, nobody pre-warned me how severely painful this can be. I didn't nurse Gabe (for a whole slew of reasons that I will get into at a later date), so when my milk came in I had to just wait for it to dry up. That took about a week. A week of carrying around leaking bowling balls on my chest (ow!!). A week of stuffing my bra with nursing pads (leaking was probably an understatement). A week of my poor father cutting up cabbage leaves to stuff into my bra to soothe the pain. Seriously...because you aren't feeling attractive enough...

2. The hormones. Oh...those post-partum hormones are something else. I feel as though I was pretty good hormonally wise (during my first pregnancy)...although my dear hubs may beg to differ. But then came post-partum hormones. I remember very distinctly when it hit me. It was day 3 in the hospital, I was sitting in the rocking chair waiting to go home and laughing at something my father and hubs had just said. Next thing I knew...I wasn't laughing anymore. I was sobbing. My mom looks at me "I knew this was going to happen" and sent the boys out of the room for a cry fest. I think that pattern (of crying out of nowhere) continued for the next little bit every night when it got dark. Rarely was it over anything in particular, just an overwhelming flood of emotions and need to cry it out.

3. Your body is just as awkward as it was in the initial months of pregnancy. Maternity clothes are suddenly too big (whoo hoo!!). But your "normal" clothes are nowhere close to fitting you. So there you are...stuck in this very strange in-between phase as you loose the baby-belly and baby-weight. I lived (and I mean lived) in these over-sized blue and white pajama pants for at least a week pulled up to my chin I swear. (They had to be large enough to fit over top of my very uncomfortable C-section incision).  When I was feeling extra-fancy I donned a pair of yoga pants. Look out world. I remember when I finally had the nerves to try on a pair of "normal" jeans a few weeks into post-partum and they fit...it was a squeeze but I didn't care. It wasn't PJ or yoga pants and I was so excited I cried. (see above).

4. Swelling can be pretty bad, especially right after baby. I look at pictures of myself when I first had Gabe and my face was the size of a balloon!! I can't say for sure why, but I think it's all the fluids and drugs they were pumping into my during and after my C-section. I have known some women who's swelling was worse a few days after delivery then during the pregnancy itself. Not just in their face, but their legs, arms, hands, everywhere. You thought you had kankles now!!

5. Gas...gas...gas...and more gas. Am I alone on this one? I am very gassy when pregnant (TMI??). And it seemed to continue post-partum forever. I won't get into the lovely details...but seriously.


Oh, it was tough. And I envy those women who look fabulous and are out and about after having a baby as though nothing is happening with their hormones and bodies.

And I'm nervous to experience it all again (although I know it could very well be completely different).

But I look at Gabe and I am so overwhelmed with my love for him that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it was worth it. And so short-lived in the grand scheme of things. And I have no doubt that I will end up feeling the exact same way about this new baby to come.

Despite the dreaded 10th month of pregnancy.

I wasn't the only one trying to adapt to the newness of Gabe. Poor Rory.

The joy that he brings to my life now is so worth every cabbage leaf that I so desperately used. 

 

Gabe`s birthday interview

My baby boy isn't so much a baby anymore. Tomorrow he turns the big 3! While I can't believe that he's already getting to be so little a baby and so much a boy, it feels as though this is just the way life has always been. And I love it.

 

Gabe cracks me up and warms my heart everyday. He is the most loving, animated and fun boy I have ever known. There is absolutely nobody in the world that makes me feel as good about myself as my little man. He just has a way of encouraging so genuinely and making you laugh so freely.

 

I could go on and on about the quirks of Gabe, but instead I thought I would share a little insight into his little mind. So, inspired by my friend Laura at Mommy Miracles I decided to interview Gabe for his 3rd birthday.

 

Enjoy!

 

Sunday, October 20th

Interview with Gabe and Mommy

 

How old are you: Almost three!!

 

Who is your best friend: Ummmm....Kianna!

 

What is your favorite toy to play with: This toy mommy! (Holds up his firetruck that he picked out because it "looked like Grampies firetruck")

 

What is your favorite thing to eat: Hot dogs!

 

What is your favorite color: Purple! Aaaaand...BLACK!

 

Where is your favorite place to play: At Aplaydia!

 

What is your favorite game to play: My racecars!

 

What is your favorite TV show to watch: Strawberry Shortcake!

 

What is your favorite song: Oh, oh song! (Jason and him listen to this in the car; The Cost by Rend Collective)

 

What do you want for your birthday: CUPCAKES!! Aaand balloon! And a lollipop!

 

 

 

 

 



 



Counting my blessings!

I have so, so much to be thankful for this thanksgiving. Here's but a few:

 

Friendships, new & old.



 

 

Being home with family...finally.

 

 

My boys, who love me so unconditionally

 

 

And motherhood. What I currently have to love and enjoy, and what is yet to come.

Trading in the running shoes for a yoga mat

If you knew me well, you would know this about me : I need to be in control. Seriously, I thrive on being in control. Whether it's in my family, in organizing events, in being on time, in the workplace. Sometimes this can be a huge strength...it also is one of my biggest weaknesses however.

 

Something else you might know about me is that I don't love being pregnant. I didn't enjoy my first pregnancy, and to be honest, I haven't been enjoying this one either.

 

One more tidbit - now this one is a bit more personal. And something you may or may not know about me - I struggle with self-image. Specifically body-image. Whether it's my pre-pregnancy normal size (which may seem ridiculas to most, as I'm not exactly huge...) or it's my pregnant body, I have a hard time accepting my body for how it is.

 

What I've recently uncovered, is how all three of those facts about me are so deeply intertwined. Let me explain.

 

I run.Prior to this pregnancy I had just completed my first half-marathon and it was amazing. I had many lofty goals of half-marathons I would be completing in the near future and was excited for my fitness level and how good I was feeling. Well, that didn't last long. Not even a month after finishing my first half did I discover (surprise!!) I'm pregnant!! I was determined to run as long into my pregnancy as I could - I had the goal of running up to my 30 week mark. Well, here I am...30 weeks pregnant and probably haven't gone for a run since early July. I struggled with my last pregnancy, and as well as this pregnancy with a lot of hip pain, and a lot of somewhat intense cramping. This cramping would get worse the more active I am. To my Dr's advice both times, I was forced to slow down. This meant cutting out my running. Mentally, this was very challenging for me. I run because I like it...and I like it because it helps me maintain control. Control of my body, my fitness level, my mental stamina and at times, anxiety. Not running made me feel like I was losing control of all of the above.

 

So this pregnancy I decided to try something different. I traded in my running shoes for a Yoga mat. While it doesn't give me the sense of control that running does - it's created something else for me. Mental clarity. Yes, I get that when I run, but it's in a completely different way. Yoga gives me time to feel my strength that I didn't know I had, to build my confidence, but really to process why I am feeling certain ways about myself or my pregnancy (is this getting too touchy feely yet?)

 

In my times of yoga pushing my pregnant body in ways that I didn't know I could, strictly by focusing on the strength I didn't know I had. I've discovered this:

 

I don't like being pregnant, because I completely lose control of my body.

 

Is it just me? Has anyone else felt this way? It seems to me that mom's I know "love" being pregnant. They bask in their pregnancy glow and the joy of birthing new life. Obviously, it's amazing and it's a miracle. But I just feel...well...pregnant. Big, uncomfortable, limited and extraordinarily self-conscious in my own skin.

 

I'm about to have a baby...a baby girl. I want to raise a girl that can feel strong and beautiful and confident while battling the pressures and images in the world around her that can make a girl feel so awful about herself. I want my girl to feel nothing like how I struggle with feeling about myself. I need to gain control of my view of myself, so my beautiful girl can seem her mommy's confidence and acceptance of herself, and in return, be able to fully accept herself. I'm not sure where to start, and I certainly know gaining mental control isn't an overnight process. But I do think I've started making steps in the right direction.

 

Am I going to turn into a post-pregnant Yogi? I don't think so. I'm pretty anxious to lace up my running shoes again. But I think my journey is going to look a little different now and I'm thankful for the time away to try something different...and get clarity on myself.

 

 



 

 

 

Grief.

Disclaimer: This post is not meant to be a Debbie-downer post. However, it does deal with very personal and very honest feelings of grieving.

 

It's been quiet on my blog this summer and not due to lack of writing. In fact, I probably have 4 or 5 written and half-written blog entries that I have yet to post (including my next in my "Everybody Lies (and other simple truths)" series).  But there has been a lot going on in my heart and my head this summer and I felt like I was brushing it under the mat if I kept choosing to blog my other blogs before I blogged about this.

 

I have a half-written post and numerous casual references about my Aunts passing that happened this past March. But I have yet to fully address it in my blog because I didn't know how, or why or what to say. But I feel like it's time. For my own heart to heal, I feel like I need to speak out about her death beyond the four walls of my home. Because it has been so, so much bigger then that to me.

 

So here goes.

 

As most know, my Aunt passed away this March after a 4 year journey and very courageous fight with cancer. I can remember so clearly the day that my parents showed up at my apartment in Riverview (surprised us none the less) to deliver the news to me that she was diagnosed.

 

I was shocked. This was my Aunt Net. There was no way that she could have cancer, let alone to the magnitude that she was diagnosed. It was impossible. But it was true.

 

However, for the next four years I, as well as Aunt Net and my family were given the biggest gift. And that was the next four years. Yes, there were obviously struggles and really challenging times in her health. But for the most of that time, she lived a relatively normal lifestyle - which in and of itself was a true miracle. She had a very aggressive cancer and her original diagnoses was fairly grim. Despite that, she fought. She continued to live on her own, she was able to do a bit of travelling, and remained pretty much the vocal centre of all family gatherings (and I say "vocal" centre, because if you knew her, you would know just how many octaves the volume goes up at family gatherings when Aunt Net was present). It was wonderful. And it completely clouded my perception of her health. I thought for certain she would go into complete remission. I thought for sure, this was just a little blip in lifes journey and she would bounce back. I thought for sure I would, as promised, be visiting her at her Seniors home one day. Maybe I was in denial, but I never ever believed that this was the start of the end.

 

Fast forward to 1 year ago today. The fall of 2012. Myself and my family had finally moved home. And I was so happy. I felt like so much time had been lost and I had so much time to catch up with family after living away for nearly 10 years. This Monday is Aunt Net's birthday and this time last year I wanted to celebrate her birthday with her. So we invited my grandparents, my brother and his wife, and my Aunt over to my parents house. I made delicious cookies and cream cupcakes (because she loved cupcakes) and we enjoyed each others company. And I thought to myself over and over this is why I moved home. Family. It felt so right just to be living the normal, everyday life with my family again. And I loved it.

 

But then she started to not feel so good again. What was an amazing check up at the start of the summer turned out not to be amazing by the start of fall. The cancer was back (and when I say back, I only mean that because her last check up the cancer was so very minimal that she was probably as close as she could ever be to remission). She was immediately started again on chemo (which is something she only took for a very short period of time at the very beginning). Honestly, it was crappy, but I still never thought a whole lot of it. I felt like, it was just another hiccup and she would get through it. We would all get through it.

 

And then I will never forget the night that I heard the news. I was home alone with Gabe. I had just finished putting him to bed and Jason was out at work for the evening. I put some water on to boil and was about to make myself a poached egg for supper (I remember so vividly that I was looking forward to that poached egg like nobody's business for whatever reason). Then the phone rang and it was my dad. Him and mom were at my Uncles cottage for a few nights so I was happy to hear from him.  And then he told me Aunt Net was in the hospital.

 

That's ok. I thought, she was struggling with her breathing again and had been in before, so I was certain she would get everything taken care of and get back out.

 

Then he told me it was bad. The cancer was spread to her brain. She was never coming back home. She had 24-48 hours to live.

 

My world stopped. 20 minutes later my brother was at my door letting me cry into his shoulder.

 

She lived from that October until the very beginning of March. Much beyond the 24-48 hours she was given, but still not long enough. Those months consisted of many emotional roller coasters and we watched her seemingly get better (but were warned it was just the drugs). But I am so grateful for that time. The time that I could visit with her and be certain that she knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt my love for her. Even though it was never in question.

 

I ran my half marathon in February to raise money for cancer research. 100% motivated by my Aunts journey with cancer, I wanted to do something bigger then myself. Crossing that finish line, knowing I had accomplished that was one of the biggest highs of my life.

 

The next weekend was the biggest low of my life. She passed away. Although it was coming for months it still felt like it happened so suddenly. I was at work when my husband called me to tell me this was it. It was the end, for real this time. I walked into my managers office with a very brave face and just crumbled. He very graciously sent me home. I found courage I did not know that I had to sit with her in the hospital as she struggled through some of her last hours of life. And then, just like that, she was gone.

 

My Aunt Net was gone. My Aunt Net is gone. It still does not feel real.

 

She was and is so much more then an Aunt to me. Since I was potty trained (that was always her pre-requisite) her and I have had many many sleepovers and memories and outings together. Just me and her. We were pretty tight with many inside jokes and many heart to hearts. She never had kids and always told me when I was little that she was actually my birth mother (it was quite the elaborate story she would lay on me). I felt like I, was well as my other cousins, were her kids. And she did too.

 

She was my friend. My sister. My confident. My second mother for sure. My Aunt.

 

I was so looking forward to Gabe being another one of her children. He is crazy, just like her and I know they would have gotten along so well. Their time together was so short. The fact that she doesn't even know that I am pregnant again is painful. She would have been beyond thrilled offering advice and insight that only a nurse would know.

 

I miss her everyday. I think about her everyday. There are nights when I close my eyes and I am still scorned by the image of sitting with her in her dark hospital room. I can still feel the fan blowing on my face as it broke the silence between her laboured breaths. I can feel her unresponsive hand holding mine as I sat beside her crying and telling her how much I loved her. Angry that this was happening.

 

Like I said, her birthday is this Monday. And I think that is why I felt so compelled to write now. There are some days and weeks when all I know of it many countless happy memories with her. But there are other days and weeks, like this one, where I still struggle with the heartache of the loss.

 

I am selfish. I often think about how unfair it is to me. My time with her was stolen. I need to go have coffee with her, call her, talk to her. I moved all this way to be with family, and she is a huge part of that, now gone. I so want to make her a green birthday card this year. And red velvet cupcakes.

 

I know that time, and God, heal all pain. All broken hearts. But I do not think that can ever stop your love from missing someone. From wishing they could still be with you. And while my own grieving comes and goes in waves and I have so much joy in my life around my to fill my tank everyday. I still wish she was here. And I think I will.

 

Every day.

 

For the rest of my life.

 

Three years ago this past July. Pregnant with Gabe and with two of the most amazing women in my life. My mommy, me and my Aunt Net.

 



 

 

Happy Birthday to Me!

I love birthdays. I don't know why, but I just love them. I love making a fuss over them and I love even more when it's my own! Today is my birthday and this year it wasn't a fuss that I knew I needed (although, I did enjoy the one I got :) ). I knew exactly what I needed to do today.

So when my pre-natal appointment ended this afternoon and I found myself with an hour to myself I did what I really needed. I laced up my shoes and I ran. I needed the time and the space to really reflect on the last year and everything that's happened and running has become the method to my madness. About this time last year I really committed to my running and training for my 1/2 marathon and it became a way to feel strong and confident about myself. A way to blow of steam. A way to leave the world behind. A way to pray and think. A way to escape and sift through emotions and thoughts. In doing all of that, I gained confidence and courage in more ways then I knew I could.

It's about half way through 2013 and "courage" was the word that I chose to live this year by. I can see it threaded through not only 2013 so far but every inch of my last year.

This time last year we had the courage to put our house up in a (very) saturated market as Jason resigned from his job and accepted a new one in Halifax (finally!!) and we started to embark into a very unknown journey.

We moved to Halifax without having sold our house, lived with my parents in their 2 bedroom condo (love you guys!) as we waited and prayed that our house would sell. That we could buy a new one and finally feel settled.

I had the courage to step away from a very comfortable job which would soon be a home-based office, to do what I knew was right for me and accepted a new role with the bank (which I am so glad I did).

I had the courage to train for (and complete!) my first ever half marathon (and definitely not the last!).

We, as a family, had the courage to grow our family and find ourselves on a new an exciting journey of expecting a new life!

And finally, most heartbreakingly, I had the courage to sit and hold the hand of my most amazing Aunt and friend as she breathed in her last hours of life.

There have been so many changes over this past year. And a lot of highs...and a lot of lows. But we have been so blessed. We are settled and happy in our move and new house. We have been encouraged by the new (and some old) friendships that we've made and relationships with family we've grown. Gabe is amazing and my heart overflows with love for him everyday.

But without courage, none of that 27th year would have been possible. I never thought one year of life could hold so much triumph and heartache, but it has. I'm glad to be ending on year and starting a new one. A stronger, more confident, happier and more courageous me.

Happy Birthday to Me.

 

 

The courage to GROW!

"Maybe once we move to Halifax and are closer to family...maybe then I'll want another baby."
"Maybe once I decide the direction I really want my career to go in we can start trying for another``
"Maybe once I finish my 1/2 marathon we'll start thinking about growing our family."

There was always something standing in the way with deciding whether or not we wanted to grow from being parents of an only child to parents of the unthinkable...two children! I was never certain. I loved being a mommy of one.
I loved the independence Gabe was starting to gain.
I loved the freedom in our schedule we were starting to get back.
I loved the financial stability of a 2 household income with only one child in daycare...part time at that.

And then came some major life changes that put a lot into perspective for me.

There were deaths on both sides of our family.

The death on Jasons side of the family gave me the chance to spend more time with his family in Ontario. Specifically some of his cousins that were siblings. Seeing them interact and lean on each other in a way that only siblings can reminded me of the beauty of sibling relationships. Something that can`t be found anywhere else.

Then came a very challenging death on my side of the family. One that broke my heart. But when I think about it - almost every time I reflect back to receiving news of my ailing loved on or some new twist or turn I remember my brother. I remember being home alone in my sorrow when my brother (and his lovely wife) showed up at my door and embraced me in a hug and let me cry into his shoulder. Being surrounded by the warmth of love that a full family built around siblings of my Aunt made me see the the support and love that comes from siblings, and family.

I also have developed a few meaningful friendships since moving to Halifax. And I can think of 2 in particular that both of a toddler Gabes age and a younger baby in tow. They both handle their motherhood in stride (although I`m sure they don`t always feel that way :) ) and the love that they are able to spread to both of their children is remarkable. They are both so joy fulled basking in the love of their children. They speak volumes of what it means to watch the relationship form and develop between their two children. Yes, they have been honest in telling me the trials they have had in growing their family, but I have seen in them and their families time and time again how the joy has far outweighed the trials. They have given me the courage that I need to say that I can do this!

So we moved. And I still hadn`t made up my mind.
I made a change in my career, but I still feel somewhat unsettled and not sure of what the future holds.
I ran my half marathon. And was still undecided.

But I had run out reasons to put growing our family on hold. I had too many reasons to give it a try. So we decided to step out...and see what happens. Besides, it took a year the first time with Gabe. So we had at least a year to get comfortable with the idea....that`s what we said the end of February. It is now middle of May and I am finishing my first trimester of pregnancy. Definitely didn`t take a year.

I am growing (a little more then I wish already!). Our family is growing. I`m far more nervous and overwhelmed then I was when I was expecting with Gabe. But I know, because of everything I`ve seen and heard and felt over this past year, I know that it`s the right choice for our family. And it`s the right time for our family. And I`m so happy.

Little newborn Gabe...he`s not going to be the baby for much longer!

Everybody Lies about - High School....the best days of your life.

I remember hearing this over and over and over through my High School years. Things like "enjoy these years, they are the best of your life."
I remember one day leaving bio class to go to the washroom and stopping at a water fountain for a drink. Standing there looking down the long scuzzy hallway of lockers that led me back to my painfully boring class thinking "really?! this is as good as it gets?". Not in a depressing way...but in a way that was more daunting then anything else.

 Let's recap.

Classes that were elected on your behalf - and generally weren't that interesting.

Pressure, pressure, pressure! Pressure to do the right thing, say the right thing, wear the right thing.

General akwardness of high schoolers - body odor, cliques, hormones.

Dating in high school = breakups in high school. This is the type of heartbreak only a hormone raging high schooler can have. One that makes you really truly feel that your world has fallen apart and never ever  will you get over that boy/girl that you definitely were going to marry.

The intensity of feelings in high school - love and hate.

High school hormones in general. They're all over the map.

Heavy backpacks. Seriously...I swear I have back issues today!

Bullying. It was as real then as it was now. And it comes in the most unlikely of places, at least it did for me.

And to quote Brittany Spears...you're "not a girl, not yet a woman" (so glad I could quote her). High school seems to be this "in between" stage where you think you know who you are. You think you are old enough and mature enough. But really, you aren't even age of majority yet. You have so little knowledge of the world outside of your school, your home, your peers. You have little concept of risk vs. reward and yet you feel that you should be given all the freedom of an adult.

...Just to name a few.

If I'm going to get more personal I would dare to say that my High School years were some of the worst in my life. I felt very uncomfortable with who I was and was going through a very...ahem...akward stage. Getting on the bus to drive 40 minutes into the sticks for 7 hours of classes, pressure and peers and then 40 minutes back. Then either going immediately to my part time job or burying my nose in those heavy books or math assignments...that was not the most luxurious of ways to be spending my time.

And the people. Oh the people. I had some mean girls in high school - I felt belittled and bullied. I felt heartbroken and lonely. And I felt like what they said to me (or behind my back) truly defined who I was. It took me a long time out of High School to rise above that and their ignorance and learn to love me for me. A long time to grow in who I was and learn who I wanted to become.

And I look at my life now.  It's beautiful. I like myself (and most days I love myself). I have an amazing husband of 8 years! A truly supportive family. Wonderful and fun friends who are encouraging and loving to be around. A good career that I feel achieved and thriving in. And a beautiful, amazing, healthy boy who is the pride and job of my life. I am far removed from the "best days of my life" and I confidently feel as though the best days of my life are just now getting started.





Disclaimer: I realize that it took me an awfully long time to write this post . When I first said what my first lie was going to be my parents were nervous that I would be too negative. They saw my High School years first hand. So I wanted to treat lightly. So I moved away from elaborating too personally about my High School years and tried to generalize a bit more.

Everybody Lies (and other simple truths).

I was a brand new mom. Rocking my days-old baby while feeding him in the wee-early hours of the morning. Wondering if I was the only person in the world awake at that time. Feeling like I must be the only person in the world awake that this time.

Dead tired. Fighting to keep my eyes open, and wondering to my dear, sweet baby - how are your eyes still open! In my somewhat irrational state of mind I started to think of my first few days as a new mom. What I had imagined it to be like (based on what everyone told me it would be like), and what it was actually like.

I thought about my birthing experience and how I felt post-partum.

I thought about life pre-baby.

I thought about life pre-pregnancy. Pre-marriage. Pre-adulthood. My high school years. My childhood years.

Needless to say, I did a lot of thinking. And one startling thought came to my mind...oh my goodness. Everybody lies. All I could think of was the alarming amount of lies I have been fed about every stage in my life so far. And I thought...I need to stop the cycle of lies. I need to tell the world. But how.

And then came my brilliant idea. I would write a book. I`ve always enjoyed writing (I think I got that from my grandmother). I was on a year of maternity leave, what else did I have to do (HA!). I would write a book highlighting all of the lies that I`ve been told and the truth will prevail. And I will call my book Everybody lies (and other simple truths). I thought it was brilliant. I began forming chapters in my minds, scripting the lies and the truths. I loved it.

But needless to say, that beautiful newborn is now a crazy toddler. And I`m at work, somehow didn`t find time to write a book on my year ``off``. But I still think about these lies. And I still want to share them with a world.

So I introduce to you...my blog series. Titled Everybody Lies (and other simple truths).

The first lie I tackle is a big one for me, and may be a bit heavy. The lie is ``Enjoy highschool now! These are the best days of your life!``

Stay tuned...

My 1/2 Marathon: A Race Recap

If I were to say that this blog post was a tad overdue - that would be an incredible understatement. I've been waiting to get the pictures from race weekend from my mom, but unfortunately life got chaotic for us as soon as returned and she is now out of the country. So I've decided to write my re-cap before I forget all the details, and add the pictures in later. Here goes...

I am going to use the most cliche word possible to describe my Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon experience, but it's the only word that best suits it: Magical. It was amazing. It was really everything that I had imagined it to be, and then some.

Let's start at the top.

Mom and I stayed at Disney All Stars Sports resort, one of Disney's "Value Resorts" and it was fantastic! Clean, fun, relaxing with reasonably-priced, good food. It was one of the host-resorts for the race weekend which meant that it had shuttles going from the hotel to the race weekend events all weekend long. So convenient. 

The first night we arrived we attended that Pasta in the Park Party. This was a party held in world showcase of Epcot. We walked in and were in awe. The decor was amazingly beautiful, you really felt like royalty. There was a DJ playing music, Disney Princess's were there to get your picture taken (yes, we did), and the pasta buffet was very yummy! The price of the ticket included VIP seating for Epcot's firework show, but mom and I decided since we'd already seen that we would take in a few rides. And pastries (because we weren't full enough from supper....right....)

The next morning was the Fit for a Princess Race Expo where we picked up my race kit, and heard Jeff Galloway speak. I was excited to see him, I had followed his training program throughout my whole training and had read a lot of his training materials. So it was fun and motivational to hear him speak in person. There were a lot of great expos, speakers and vendors at the Race Expo, but mom and I didn't stay long...we were more interested in lounging in the sun, by the pool. We went to bed that night at about 7pm with the alarm set for 3am...RACE DAY!

The alarm went off in the morning and it was so strange to be getting up at 3am...and being excited about it. I put on my race skirt and tutu, my hat, my GPS watch, my ipod, my sweatpants, running shirt, tshirt and sweatshirt (that took forever to get all those layers on - haha!) then we stepped outside...and it was almost eerie. It was surprisingly hot and sooo quiet but yet there were people coming from every direction in their tutu's heading towards the shuttle. The line up wrapped around the pool and we thought we would be waiting forever - but nobody knows how to move people like Disney! 

Waiting in line outside the hotel for the shuttle...trying to capture a picture of all the people, but it just didn't do justice.  This was at 3:30 AM!!

 

 In no time we were getting off the shuttle and making our way towards the race site...and we were amazed at the amount of people (picture 26,000 runners plus at least one spectator per runner)...it was insane. We hung out for a bit, I took some layers off, took some pictures, ate my protein bar and drank my gatorade...then it was time to part ways. My corral was being called to head to the starting line and mom was heading to Magic Kingdom to watch me run! The walk from the spectator area where we were to the starting line was looooong...about 30 minutes long!! But once I was there the DJ was playing music, the hosts were talking and getting everyone excited and the 45 minute wait time was over. The fairy godmother took stage and fireworks started letting the corrals go. I was corral D so had to wait a bit to start. But once we were on our way - I couldn't believe it. I just kept thinking "I'm here! I'm doing it!"

30,000+ Runners and Spectators - There were more people then I have ever seen in one place in my life.

Waiting to be called for my corral...feeling anxious and excited!

My corral was called! Here I go on my trek to the starting line!

There was so much entertainment enroute. Characters, bands, etc. The first part of the run was up world drive to Magic Kingdom and was mostly still in the dark. It was about 6 miles to Magic Kingdom and flew by - I was feeling great. Even better once we made our way into Magic Kingdom. It was unbelieveable - this was the moment I had visualized forever. As I made my way up Main Street towards the castle I even saw my mom! I stopped, gave her a hug and she snapped a few quick pictures and then yelled "the best part is coming up!" - so true! Running through that castle was my dream come true. I had goosebumps and got a little misty-eyed.

This was such an amazing moment in the race. Right before running through the castle - I actually saw my mom in the crowd and stopped long enough for a quick hug and her to snap this picture and then encourage me saying "the BEST part is coming!". That really reminded me to take it all in as I ran through Magic Kingdom and the Castle. Even just thinking about it now gets me feeling overwhelmed - it was such an unbelieveable moment for me.

And then we came out of Magic Kingdom at about mile 8. On a long stretch of World Drive. Once we past the halfway marker (with "That Girl is on Fire" blaring) it became long. "You mean I'm only half way there?". That's when it really became mental..."I made it halfway" "Only halfway to go!". There were a few brutal hills (they were turn pikes that were uphill and sideways slanted) and it was really hot at this point (37 degrees with humidity!). I couldn't get enough water dumped on my head! At about mile 10 I stopped to take my picture with the row of Princes...and wasted a lot of time. But I convinced myself this was the one stop I wanted to make and I needed to make the most of the experience.

At mile 11 my glutes were killing me...my left hip was throbbing...so I stopped and slathered my hips up in biofreeze. That was exactly enough to push me the last 2 miles. Just after that we entered Epcot and I knew "This is almost it!". Rounding the corner into Epcot was a gospel choir singing and was breathtaking. And then we ran towards world showcase and everyone was yelling "ALMOST THERE! ONE MORE CORNER"...the last 0.5 miles I didn't know if I could finish. And then I remembered a positive mantra that my mommy had given me to push me to the end...laughed and smiled to myself...and ran to the finish line!

What an AMAZING feeling to cross that big pink finish line, all those people watching and cheering, Mickey and Minnie high-fiving people at the end! Getting pixie dust sprinkled over your head. It was magical.

My goal was to finish my first ever 1/2 marathon and still be smiling - I was more then smiling! I was sore and ready to be done, but feeling SO good! And so proud!

This medal was SO worth the 13.1 miles / 21.1 km...it's hanging on my dresser at home!

I went and got a snackbox (amazing) and headed over to the family reunion centre...soon enough I saw my mom, who started to cry, hugged me and told me how proud she was of me. And that meant the world to me. I always know my mom is proud - but my mom knows how tough this was for me, how running so does not come naturally to me (and never has) and how hard I've worked! And her proudness made me even more proud! All those evenings I missed tucking Gabe into bed, or Saturday mornings I'd sacrificed to get a long run in...were all worth it in that moment. Not to say I'd do it again right now - but it was so worth it. And now, I call myself a runner. :)

A word for 2013

I was inspired by my friend ( & fantastic blogger ) Laura  to choose a word for 2012, and set my sights on one to live 2013 by. Choosing a word for 2013 was a non-issue for me, and I will get to that in a minute. But choosing a word to sum up all that was 2012, that was a great challenge.

2012 was a year of big changes for me and my family. There were big decisions. Many sleepless nights. Lots of health-scares with my extended family (that continue to haunt our lives). But it was also a year of warm and heartfelt memories (we took our 18 month old to Disney after all!) and a year of finally coming home, which was a long journey.

It was a year of dark, dark days that I was not sure I would be able to keep my head about water and see the light of day out of. But it was also a year of seeing the sun shining through as darkness drew to a close on each new morning.

It was a year of not knowing when, or why or how. But in reflecting back, so much of the unknowns become to crystal clear and when I really think about the year...it was a year of faithfulness.

So faithfulness is the word I choose to sum up 2012. Knowing that all things happen for a reason. Looking back and knowing that God walked us through every storm and was smiling on our every happy moment. And I feel so glad knowing that I can label 2012 so confidently with that word - something that, had I of been asked halfway through the year, I was not sure I could do.

On the cusp of 2013 I remember sitting in the car with my husband and telling him I was not sure that I could face 2013. But here it is upon us. I felt like its presence loomed over us for a long time as is haunted me. And then it just came, like a whisper in the night along with all of my fear of facing it.

I know that 2013 as some demons that I have to face, and they scare me. 

But I also know that I will accomplish some great personal goals in 2013 (my like running my first half!) I know that it will be exciting to watch my baby boy continue to grow into even less of a baby and more of a boy. In saying that, it is with courage that I have chosen to take on this new year! 

Courage: The ability to confront fear, 

pain, 

danger, 

uncertainty 

or intimidation.

Courage to be the best mom and wife that I can be as I continue to strive for a better balance. 

Courage to meet my personal goals despite the fear in my head telling me that I can not do it.

Courage to face all that 2013 has in store and know that I will continue to experience the same faithfulness that saw me through 2012.

So here is to 2013, a year of courage.