Halfway Point/Breaking Point

It may be partly that I'm tired and still adjusting to getting up at 6am, it may be partly hormones, but I just want to quit working out. I've been working out consistently and eating pretty clean (and definitely not too much) for 3 months now, and I'm seeing no tangible measurable payoff. I know I'm getting stronger, some definition is returning in my arms, and my depression is manageable, but I'm still in the same pant size I was 3 weeks postpartum and that literally makes me cry. I know results will come, and I'm laying groundwork and all that, but it's like I said to Scott the other day: If you went to work and gave your best every day and never got a paycheck, knowing that someday at some unknown  arbitrary time you'd start getting paid...You'd probably say "well why don't I just start working when you're gonna pay me?" 

I'm getting up at 6am when I could get up at 8, I'm pushing my body as hard as it can go 4-6x a week, and I'm not sure I can keep it up indefinitely with no payoff. 

I know why I'm not seeing results, most likely. It's because I'm EBF Declan and working outta the same time. My body is freaking out and holding on to the weight.  I can't not work out, though. I promised myself I would do better and take better care of myself from day 1 this time, so I'm going to. I really need something to give though. 

Another thing that's discouraging me has been my workout performance. I am finishing weeks 5/6 (but really week 8 because of restarting this level after my surgery) of body Revolution, which makes tomorrow my halfway point. This being my fourth time through the program, I remember what I felt like at this point before, and I really don't remember workout 5 being so hard. I've wracked my brain about why it is bringing me to tears and taking me 50 min (it has a 37 min run time) to complete. I have come up with two answers: a) I was 14 months postpartum at this point my first time through- not just under 5. b) I was not doing the plyo moves or cardio intervals (usually walking in place). That makes a huge difference in intensity, and I'm doing everything this time through.  

So I probably shouldn't feel bad about that. But I'm really not looking forward to leveling up on Monday, because I remember workout 7 being my least favorite. 

Finally, I'm really struggling with comparison. I've come a long way with this, but it is still an area I'm being stretched in. I see other people's pictures and want to cry, especially moms who had babies close to when I did, and their baby weight just fell off from breastfeeding, and they are all sorts of hi cal food and are rail thin. I am not that person and my journey isn't going to be theirs, but dang it twists the knife. I don't know how to reconcile how hard I work for no results with seeing others where I want to be with no effort (in their own words). 

 

I just don't want to feel this anymore. 

Ladybug Girl turns three

My Sweet, Beautiful, Vibrant Girl, where do I begin? I cannot believe in only twelve and a half hours it'll have been three years since that life changing moment when I first saw your face and kissed your head and fell in love. You were my dream come true, and still are, more every day. You've grown up so much in this past year, and as these pictures will show, you've changed most strikingly since you became a big sister. There's very little baby left in you, though you will

Always be my baby girl. 

You are incredibly tender hearted, especially towards your mama, who's been exceedingly (one of your favorite words) weepy over the past year. When I was in early labor with Declan, I was feeling tired, discouraged, and frustrated, and you kissed my tear streaked face and prayed with Daddy and I. 

You hate conflict, and if you sense an argument between Daddy and I beginning, you sail in and break it up, or at least try. You also tend to run and hide when you think you're in trouble. It's so sweet to see your sensitivity, and I promise I will never try to change that. 

You are still my cuddlebug. You love to be held in my arms and in my lap. We were so spoiled while I carried your brother inside me, because we had so much time for this. I will always cherish all the sweet days when it was just you and I, our last months of you being my only baby. 

Christmas has officially become more fun than it's ever been. You love everything about it, especially the decorations and lights. I know it'll just get more fun every year now, but this year was incredible, as you discovered everything from songs to Santa to music in sync with light displays.  We went out a half dozen times to look at lights, and every time we were done, you cried and begged for more. 

It was such a cold winter, and I hated not being able to play in the snow with you, but I'm so glad you and Daddy got to enjoy it, even when the temps were in the single digits and you had to go out in the dark to play. 

We were a little nervous that you'd struggle with the transition from only child to big sister, but you've been unbelievable, even in the face of me having to give Declan almost everything those first couple months. You fell madly in love with him from day one, and it's such a blessing to see you two develop a relationship. 

You blow me away with your tenderness and eagerness to help and encourage and love your brother. So many times a day you tell me you love him and he's "so cute!" I love hearing you say "Good morning, Brother!" And "I love you, Declan!"

I know you're waiting (with varied levels of patience) for him to be able to play with you, and I promise it's coming. 

In the meantime, you are growing and learning in leaps and bounds. You know your alphabet, your alphabet sounds, colors, shapes, how to count to twenty, how to spell your name and your brother's, and more every day. We are going to start school together in September, and I love how you're already excited! 

You've become passionate about painting and dancing, as well as playing drums and singing. We are planning to put you in dance classes soon, and I'm excited to develop your other passions as well. 

It amazes me how perceptive you are and how you notice everything. You love nature and animals and you are so free and full of joy in every experience. You make me want to be brave and open to pursuing my passions too. 

One passion I see developing that I want to feed is your beginning faith. You love to pray and often ask to, and love to talk about "Lord Jesus!" I am praying daily for ways to help you grow this into a relationship for eternity. 

You have grown so much, my sweet Bella Bug, but you are still my baby, my princess, my Peanut. I love you, beyond words, more than you know, and I'm so very proud and thankful to be your Mama. 

Rethinking Goals

It's occurred to me that I've had some unrealistic expectations on myself. I know, this isn't shocking if you've been following my journey any length of time. 

The first area where I've been riding myself too hard is schedule. I was in such a groove a year ago, early in my pregnancy with Declan. Up/Devo/eat, workout, Lexi up and fed, go for a walk, etc. now, I'm just fighting to get up before 9 and my workout done before 11. Most days that's as productive as I  get. The productivity is improving, but I mean, I'm up for an hour in the middle of the night to pump, which basically steals an hour and a half of sleep. Add to that the fact that many nights I struggle to get in bed before 1130- a year ago I was on a solid 10-6 in bed schedule- and it's no wonder I'm having a hard time. Not to mention, life is so different. My body is still recovering from birth, I have a four month old and a three year old (tomorrow), and the first 2.5 months of my postpartum were absolute hell followed by 2 months of intense tooth pain. Things are finally starting to look up, but have a long way to go. And I'm learning to be ok with that. Scott told me last night "at any given time, you can only do the most important thing in that moment. You're doing that, and I'm proud of you." And you know what? The rest will come. It's already started to. 

Maybe, instead of trying to go whole hog and get up early, work out early, do housework, play outside, do school, etc all at once, maybe a better plan is this:

Week 1: work on going to bed on time/getting up on time and one housework catch up project a day. 

Week 2: this week start moderate housework at a maintainable level.

Week 3: this week work in school. 

Week 4: now try to keep it going. 

The other area I'm struggling with my own expectations in is my fitness journey. I'm getting stronger for sure, but not shrinking quickly (if at all) and I'm really frustrated with push ups. I'm definitely not eating too much, I'm pretty sure I'm eating enough not to send my body into  starvation, so I'm just gonna work on reducing sugar, and being intentional about where my calories come from. I've stopped buying prepackaged and processed snacks, and hopefully that'll help. The lack of external results is really messing with me though, and I really don't see an end to that, because I don't see what's gonna suddenly change and make the weight start coming off. I'm sure it will eventually, and in theory I can be patient, but it's hard to push myself like this without reward. I don't even have the reward of having more energy or feeling better yet, because my sleep is such a mess. Maybe working on that will help too. I fully believe that sticking with this will pay off-there's no way it won't. But right now, I'm feeling very impatient and burnt out. When it's time to wake up and work out, or get ready for spin class, I just want to go back to sleep! You'll probably hear more of this as I work through this funk. And that's why I write here-to help myself work through stuff and to show the journey between the progress photos. 

I've read a number of places that it takes the body a year to recover from giving birth, so why in the world did I set a goal to be back in my tiniest pants ever in less than 6 months for our vacation?

As of right now, my new goal is to be back in my size 8's by then ( 4 weeks 2 days), and then take the next 6 months to lose the other 2 sizes. I feel like that is beyond doable, and notice I said nothing about the scale. I have no idea how long it's gonna take to get back to 150, which is what I weighed the day I found out I was pregnant, but what matters more to me is fitting and feeling and looking good in my clothes. So I guess that means I'm shooting for a size 6 by Christmas and a size 4 by Declan's birthday.  I feel good about that! 

Overachieving

So, I had an emergency wisdom tooth extraction two weeks ago, and recovery took about 10 days. I really started feeling like myself again over the weekend, and went full steam into trying to be productive from Saturday to yesterday (Tuesday). Then it all hit me like a ton of bricks and I couldn't get out of bed till 11 this morning. Safe to say, if been kinda overdoing it out of the gate. I had a bunch more housework catch up planned for today and tomorrow, but I'm thinking maybe I need to take it a little easier and build back into things at a more moderate pace. 

I'm sharing this because I can't be the only one who does this and gets frustrated and discouraged. PCOS has always made itself known through fatigue, but since I've started living healthier, that hasn't been such a problem. Since Declan has been born though, I have had a number of times where I had a burst of active energy only to get bowled over. So, the rest of the week, I'm going to be focusing on getting to bed on time and up on time and getting my workout done. Then next week, maybe I can finish playing catch up on the house. :-) 

Postpartum Depression and how I'm treating mine.

I have postpartum depression and anxiety. Just like with "regular" depression, there are good days and bad days, easier weeks, and harder ones. It took me four months to accept that this was even my reality, and there are a couple reasons for that. 

One is that I feared that if I admitted it, it meant I had to go back on the drugs, which is something I really didn't/don't want.  The other is that this isn't hormones, it's based on real circumstances that are breaking my heart and discouraging me, and sapping my joy, so it can't or PPD, right? Reality is that this condition comes in many forms, with varying symptoms and causes, and maybe my pain is real, but that doesn't mean it's not worsened by the hormones that are still raging. 

Here's what I've discovered about why and what this looks like for me: 

Why: the biggest factor has been breastfeeding. I wrote about that journey here ( http://sweetmaeb.blogspot.com/2015/07/our-breastfeeding-journeyso-far.html?m=1) , and I'd encourage you to read it. Nursing another baby was one of the biggest parts of my dream of another baby, and as one of  my friends put it, I'm mourning the loss of what I dreamed it would be. That's been really hard, on top of just the physical work and toll of all the nursing and pumping. Another friend asked if what was weighing me down was juggling two kids, or just the nursing. I emphatically answered "just the nursing." And for the most part, that's true. Another factor is my frustration with the fact that dating back to when I was 21 weeks pregnant with him, there have been doctors (not my OB) with manufactured worries about him, that have turned out to be entirely nothing, and since I'm a naturally anxious person, I don't need that crap. I don't want to get into this, because it will make me cry and angry. Suffice it to say Declan is great and developing at his own pace in beautiful ways. The third factor springs off the nursing-my productivity is so far less than I'd like it to be that it brings me to tears, because of the time and energy stolen by pumping. Add to all that my frustration with slow progress in shrinking my body -again because of breastfeeding, and a huge dose of hormones, and you get PPDA Mae. 

PPDA Mae looks like this: 

Some days I am a bundle of energy and productivity and hope and excitement-basically myself. I cook, I organize, I plan, I roll with the plans changing. Many days though, all I can manage is to feed, pump, cuddle kids, and work out, and nothing else. I stay up way too late, get up to pump, and struggle to fall asleep again. The worst days also include tears, angry outbursts, a couple walls punched (that only resulted in a jacked up hand), and the desire not to do any of this anymore because what's the point when all I do is fail? 

I know I have many people who love me, but I'm sick of being needy, so I wade through this feeling very alone. I know it's partly my fault for isolating myself, and maybe people don't know, though I don't try to hide it. I've only been to church twice since Christmas and it feels like nobody notices. That's not an accusation, just something I wrestle with. I don't have a close girlfriend who I talk to regularly. I am thankful beyond words for Scott and all the ways he cares for me, has stepped up to share the load, and the ways he's pampering me. Max has also been incredible and I'm overwhelmed by his care too. 

I'm not taking meds, and I don't plan to. Historically I've only needed to treat my depression with medication when I'm not exercising consistently-which can be a crazy cycle. I can't make myself exercise because I'm depressed, even though it would make all the difference. I have been exercising fairly regularly since Declan was 2 weeks old in some form,  and now I'm basically back to my ore-pregnancy schedule, if not fitness level/intensity, so if I stay in this healthy pattern, I should be able to continue improving without pharmaceutical aid

Here's what I am doing: if you've read  what I wrote about self care awhile back, you're familiar with most of it, but I'll share again, because it's looking different in practice than in theory. 

I am using my essential oils. There is power in aromatherapy, and I've seen it in instant rescue from panic attacks. 

I am making personal prettification part of my routine. 

Exercise.

Working on improving sleep with magnesium and going to bed earlier.

Massage-treat yo self! Or let your hubby do it. 

I'm being really open with Scott.

I'm celebrating what I accomplish each day. 

Hope this encourages you. PPD is not a character flaw, and it is real. 

Our Breastfeeding Journey...So Far

To say that nursing Declan has been an adventure is an understatement. From day 1 I knew it might be harder than with Lexi, but I wasn't going to to stop no matter what. There would be no formula. That's what I was set on, and I'm very thankful I have succeeded in that. I also didn't want to introduce a bottle unless absolutely necessary because (due to Lexi's outright rejection of them after her first few) I was/am much more a fan of the simplicity of just nursing, without all the work of pumping. At this point, I have soooo much admiration for mamas who exclusively pump, especially those who work full time. (S/o to my Sissy Beans!) our journey continues to evolve, but I feel we've reached a major turning point, so I want to share with you where we have been over the last four and a half months.

First, let me say that I was totally unprepared for this to be difficult at all. Everything about Lexi was easy and natural, and after a very early latching challenge that was easily solved by 3 months with a nipple shield, nursing her was a breeze. I had never experienced the things that make women quit nursing. Now I have. Pretty much all of them, actually. 

So, the first time they put Declan in my arms, at mere seconds old, I saw that he had a tongue tie. I was aware of the solution for this and so still felt like we would be ok. The first time I tried to nurse him, maybe a half hour later, I pointed the tie out to the nurse. She said "yeah but it's not severe, so it won't interfere with breastfeeding."  And the first couple times, it didn't seem like it would. He was impatient and cranky (but who wouldn't be after a 40 hour birth process where you were just facing all kinds of wrong and had to be yanked out by vaccum?) but we didn't really start having a challenge until that first night late. He was screaming, not staying latched, and I'm order to get him to nurse at all I had to stand and rock him in the football hold and sing. It was exhausting on top of a very difficult recovery. Some of this was due to his personality, the circumstances of his entry to the world, and I figured some was due to the same anatomical challenge Lexi and I had had-I have fat flat nipples-my babies have bitty mouths. So, the following morning I asked for a nipple shield from the Lactation Consultant, but she was busy and in the meantime I had two wonderful nursing students who were both mamas come work with us. We pumped, we used shells, we finger fed him. It was encouraging but still hard, in my exhausted state. He wanted nothing to do with the nipple shield. 

We kept nursing with varied success the rest of our hospital stay. When we got home, suddenly he started latching great with the nipple shield! He had actually gained a few ounces back by the first visit to the pediatrician! Things seemed to be looking up, even though my recovery was going very slowly and hard.

 At about two weeks, he started making a clicking sound when he nursed, and I noticed lots of milk was leaking from his mouth and that concerned me. We kept going though, as I had no better plan. I was getting very discouraged, and a bit obsessed with his diaper count, which was thru the roof. 

At four weeks, even though we continued to struggle, I was holding as steady as I could, when he rejected the nipple shield and started nursing 5 min on one side every 2-3 hours. This horrified me and I had a flat out breakdown that may have included me punching a wall and really messing my hand up when he was 4.5 weeks old. We had a weight check that showed he was on track, so I tried to relax a little and trust him to lead. That lasted less than 2 weeks. 

At 6w2d I took Declan to see my dear sweet friend Melissa who is a CLC. She and I had been texting constantly since Declan's birth, and I am still so very thankful for her support and understanding. We weighed him, and saw that in the 10 days since his last check, he'd gained 3 oz. not great. Then she watched me nurse him, and we weighed him again. He gained 3oz from 7 min of nursing on one side. So that was pretty good! We talked awhile, and Melissa agreed that the tongue tie (which had also kinda been brushed off by the ped at this point) was a likely culprit for the clicking and insufficient milk transfer. Plus, I could feel my previously robust supply starting to dip. She recommended I go see an ibclc and the next morning, I did. It was a good appointment, and while she didn't think the tongue tie was necessarily the issue, she gave me a good plan of giving him an extra 4oz a day by spoon or syringe, since I was wary of complicating things with a bottle. This worked great, and he gained 6 oz over the next 6 days! He hated being supplemented this way though, and I hated doing it. I also did more research on tongue ties and decided it was time to get it clipped, because it could make all the difference, and at worst it would do nothing. 

 The same day we had his tongue clipped, I also decided to offer the supplement in a bottle. This went better than the syringe, though he still wasn't a fan. This was a huge scary step for me, as I was afraid he'd prefer the bottle and reject nursing entirely. He didn't. He also gained 15oz between weight checks in 12 days. Looked like we were out of the woods on weight gain, even if I was spending my entire days and nights pumping and nursing. Seeing the improvement he made over the weeks following the procedure-it wasn't instant, and even now he slips back into old habits-I am as sure as I can be that the problem was his tongue tie. Mamas, if your suspect at all that a tongue or lip tie is causing you and your baby challenges, I advise you to get it clipped. There is no downside. It is impossible to tell by looking at a tie whether it will be a problem, because it's a matter of how anatomy matches up. My fat flat nipples, Declan's tie, and his bit of a high palate all added up to a problem, but with the clip and a lot of stubbornness, we are doing far better.

Since then, I've been nursing as often as Declan is interested, pumping after as many feedings as possible, and feeding him what I pump. This has been workable, but far more time consuming than I'd like long term. Declan had also gotten a bit cranky about the work associated with nursing and was refusing more often than not during the day. I've also weathered a few intense supply dips  where all I did for days at a time was nurse, pump, eat, and pop supplements.

Then, something I feared would damage our nursing relationship may have been the catalyst for the biggest change yet. I had to have emergency dental surgery to extract a wisdom tooth that had me in constant pain from when Declan was 5 weeks old on. In order to let me recover as well as I could even while maintaining my grueling pumping schedule, Scott took over nighttime feeding of Declan. This let me get a 5-6 hour stretch of sleep before my body woke me to pump, then go right to sleep again. We did that for about 7 nights, then I actively started trying to nurse more, and teach him to nurse lying down. Now, unless he's extremely sleepy/cranky and therefore less willing  to work, he never rejects nursing, and seems to be draining me better than he ever has. 

Because of these developments, I feel like my goal of being free of the pump is in reach. I'm still pumping after most feedings, but unless it was a bad feeding, I'm only pumping for 10 minutes, or one letdown. As soon as Declan stops seeming like he needs what I pump in addition to nursing (I usually give it to him before nap and at bedtime now), I'll reduce pumping over time and reserve it for replacing feedings when needed instead of keeping my supply up. 

So, that's where we are now, and I'm excited to see us get where we want to be. 

Mamas, only you can decide what's best for you and your baby, but if you really want to breastfeed, I believe you can overcome any obstacle, and I'm here to help! 

First Latch

First comfortable NIP

My first workout with my Apple Watch

For my birthday last Friday I was given an Apple Watch by Scott and Max. I was and still am blown away. It's so fancy and cool and I love it! 

This morning was my first workout using it, and I have thoughts. 

The good: the heart rate monitor  was very accurate when I was standing and some of the time when I was on the ground. It always kept contact and never dropped to zero on me 

The bad: it did, however, become wildly inaccurate at certain times, like during push ups, mountain climbers, scissors, and took awhile to correct itself. I was fairly frustrated by this, but I'm hoping to figure out a way to prevent it or at least limit it. 

Overall I'm very happy with it as a fitness tracker, and am optimistic that I can work out the kinks. I really like the apps and the interface. It is a bit nerve wracking to get all sweaty wearing it!