One Year

I feel like I've been waiting to write this blog post for an eternity, but now I realize that i'm not even sure what to say. One year ago I was in Siem Reap, Cambodia with a non-profit called People for Care & Learning. We were at the Red Piano for dinner and I told the girl who was leading the trip that I was on the verge of a panic attack and I needed to leave. A few weeks after I returned home from that trip I found out I was pregnant and I haven't had an anxiety attack since.

Two years ago my husband and I graduated from Lee University. We decided after graduation to move to Kentucky where my husband is from. We purchased a home and got jobs and things seemed to be working out well for us. I'm not really sure what caused the heightened anxiety; being in a new state, lack of friendships, things being different than I hoped. Whatever it was, I started having panic attacks that landed me in the hospital on multiple occasions out of fear that I was dying. Zach didn't understand at first and I don't blame him for it. But eventually, there we were at the hospital at three a.m. and the doctor came in with a sheet of local doctors and told me I needed to find one and be seen for my anxiety. I started seeing a doctor and eventually a therapist. Zach and I started talking about moving to Florida near my family for my emotional and mental well-being. Then I went to Cambodia, came back, found out I was pregnant. And we decided to make the move for sure. 

I wish this could be a blog post on "How to Stop Your Anxiety Disorder," but it's not. I don't really have any answers. If you struggle with anxiety or depression, I hope you don't have tor read this blog post to know you're not alone. My best advice is to get a good doctor and find support in your family and friends. I look forward to the day people feel comfortable openly talking about mental illness and ways we can help one another. 

I'm truly thankful for my supportive husband, loving family, and God's faithfulness and ability to answer our prayers in ways we don't always anticipate. 

I Support You

Yesterday I was reading an article written by a doctor about formula and reflux. After I finished reading, I scrolled down to the comment section. There was a comment left by a lady that said, "I am sad to see a whole article about formula feeding."

And just like that, my writers block was magically lifted.

After Harrison was born, I had full intentions on breastfeeding. After all, "breast is best." However, I prepared myself for the reality that it may not be possible, as many women have a variety of struggles that hinder them from doing so. Harrison was hospitalized for a week shortly after coming home from the hospital due to a high fever. We also learned that he was dehydrated and due to both of these things we had to start supplementing with formula. My schedule while Harrison was in the hospital looked something like this.

Breastfeed
Supplement
Pump
Repeat

All.freaking.day.

I had multiple clogged ducts and mastitis and spent the entire day as a milk slave.  However, I was determined to give my child the best possible start to life so he could grow up and be a productive member of society which he obviously would not be if I gave him solely formula, so help me God.

Long story short, I eventually went to just pumping because he was much more interested in the bottle. Then I started enjoying actually hanging out with my son and missed pumping sessions and what little supply I had to begin with dwindled to nothing and I was left with myself and my formula can and spending my afternoon reading ignorant comments bashing concerned, formula feeding mothers who want what's best for their child.

I'd like to believe that all mom's have one thing in common and that's this; we all want what's best for our child. I really wanted to breastfeed. I was really upset with myself when things didn't work out as they did in my dream world even though I gave myself a pep talk beforehand. And if I have another shot at it with a second child, I really hope I can make it work. But here's the thing, my child is now happy and healthy and thriving and not dehydrated and I'm able to actually enjoy him instead of being a worried and depressed milk slave 24/7. That's what was best for my family. Maybe it's not what's best for yours. And that's okay. You want what's best for your child, too! That's awesome and I support your decisions because I know your tender, mama's heart. However, if you find yourself opening that can of formula (although it doesn't make as glamorous of an instagram photo as breastfeeding), I hope you can find the resources and support you need without being made to feel like you're a failure. Because we're all just doing the best we can.

My First Lesson in Motherhood

I've officially been a mother for one whole month. If you're reading this and you've been a mom much longer than I have, you're probably wondering what I could possibly have to say about motherhood. But let me tell you, you learn a lot during the first month of taking care of a tiny human day in and day out. Mostly things about yourself.

Yesterday, Harrison turned one month old and I thought to myself, "well, he's still alive." This probably doesn't sound like the most sentimental statement, but let me try to elaborate. After Harrison was born, I kept waiting for my hormones to fall through the roof. If you've read anything about post-partum, then you get what I'm saying. But although I was physically exhausted, I felt great. I thought to myself, "I totally got this mom thing." I read all the books. I, myself, was a nanny and preschool teacher.

But then my son ended up in the NICU, my milk took forever to come in, I had a low supply, we had to start supplementing, he was diagnosed with acid reflux, and I was (am) exhausted. I found myself so frustrated with this little human and frustrated that things weren't going like I had perfectly planned. Then the mom guilt set in. If you haven't heard of it, let me tell you, it's the realest. I found myself bawling my eyes out while feeding my sweet little baby. What kind of mother gets frustrated with such a helpless little human being? What kind of mother has expectations and disappointments for such a tiny person? I felt like the worst, most selfish mother in the world. It all probably sounds dramatic. But if you're a mom, you probably get it. There's no guilt like mom guilt because there's no love like a mother's love.

I have never loved someone like this. So fiercely. Never have I wanted so many wonderful, perfect things for someone. And that's hard, because I'm not perfect. I'll never be a perfect person and I'll never be the perfect mother. This is my first lesson in motherhood and the hardest to accept.

So here's to all the mama's doing the hard stuff day in and day out. A job that's filled with spit up and dirty diapers and sleepless nights without a pat on the back. Here's my virtual hug and high five to you. Accept the much needed grace each new day offers and don't be too hard on yourself. You're doing the best you can and that's enough.

Let It Be

After a terribly long two day induction (I could have kissed that nurse anesthetist), Harrison Quinn made his way in to our world at 11:24 p.m. on Wednesday, February 18th weighing 6 lbs 13 oz & measuring 19 inches long. I spent nine (but really like, ten) months wondering what he would be like and dreaming of our first days together as a family. I read way too many pregnancy blogs about all kinds of postpartum woes; exhaustion, baby blues, and the list goes on. Incase you were wondering, yes, being a milk machine is exhausting. But being in a mom is so much better than any blog could have said (or not said, for that matter). This kid is the absolute best. On Sunday, Harrison spiked a 102 degree fever which landed him in the NICU at a hospital a couple hours from home. Today he is one week old and here we sit. Thankfully all of his tests have come back negative, he is gaining weight, and we should be going home in a few days. The first few days we were here I spent a lot of time saying, "this is not how I pictured things." And no, it's still not. But then I'm reminded that things don't always go as planned and I need to be where I am.

So today I'm going to work on just being. Let's set aside our ideas of how things should go or where we wish we were and accept the gift of today. 

Happy one week of life my sweet boy. I am so glad to be here with you today.

To My Husband

You work long days and still come home with a smile on your face. You cook dinner or do dishes when I'm too tired (because making a human is really a full-time job, people) and don't get angry with me when my hormones take over and I start crying over my disdain for chicken. You drive endless nights to the gas station to buy me Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. You read bedtime stories to my ever-growing bump and when I couldn't feel any less attractive; you remind me that you still think I'm the most beautiful woman in the world. You do all of these things and never complain. You teach me everyday about pure, selfless, unconditional love which is why you'll be the very best father.

#webravewomen

I recently came across the hashtag #webravewomen on Instagram. If you haven't heard of it, We Brave Women is a project that was created in order to inspire women to be vulnerable with one another through personal stories and the fostering of community. This is accomplished by women answering the question "I am brave because ____" and encouraging other women to do the same. The website We Brave Women also shares stories of brave women throughout history.

I love this sort of thing. I think some of the best parts of being human are the ideas of vulnerability and connectedness. I also believe that, as women, we can be easily insecure and competitive with one another and that our best weapon against those feelings is celebrating with each other in the messiness of our humanity.

Here's what I think makes me brave. I am brave because when I found out that my husband and I were expecting our first child, I knew that it meant that I was going to have to close my small business. Being pregnant meant not being able to start my anxiety medication and setting aside my fears in order to be my best self for someone else. It meant admitting I couldn't do things on my own and that I was better near family. Bravery was picking up a seemingly comfortable life and moving twelve hours away even though I hate change. Being brave has required me to take risks and today I'm so grateful for those extra steps in faith.

Let's celebrate our bravery today.

Jesus, Beyonce, & Other Thoughts About Our World

I didn't grow up in church. My husband did. But even I know this song. 

"He's got the whole world in his hands he's got the whole wild world in his hands
He's got the whole wild world in his hands he's got the whole world in his hands"

Chances are you've heard it, too. There's a couple more verses, but I'm pretty sure you get the point. 

Ever since I started going to church, I've heard that truth. I've also heard a lot about the world we live in. Apparently it sucks. There's a lot of war, and people who hate Christians, and terrible entertainment choices, and if Beyonce makes even one more music video - Jesus himself is going to lose it.

I'm not denying all of these claims. There is war, there are people who don't like Christians, and there's even probably some questionable entertainment choices. But there's also beauty. There's mountains and waterfalls, and selfless people. There are even songs and movies that move and inspire people for the better.

Today, I'm choosing to hold on to the simple truth that He's still in control.  I'm choosing to shift my  focus on the incredible people we can be and the good we can do. I hope more of the church will join me. Or at least in the meantime, start singing that song again on Sundays. After all, He still has the whole world in his hands.