Four years ago my grandfather asked me when I was going to give him a great-grandchild. I told him babies weren't on my bucket-list. When he pressed me to settle down and have children (You're 40 now!) I told him I'd raised two sisters, two step sisters, and two parents--that I was done. We'd had that same exchange on a few previous occasions, but this time he nodded to himself. He seemed to accept what I was saying. I don't know that I was his favorite grandchild, but I was his first grandchild. I think that I was the only one of his grand-daughters who stayed in touch, and he always seemed to blame himself for my determination to be an "old maid."
He's been gone three years now, and I think he'd be so thrilled to know that I'm settled-down with a good man and that I'm having a baby. I miss him, and I'm sad my son will never know his great-grandfather, a man I loved and respected and was privileged to care for in the final days of his fight with cancer.
My sister Tammy died 4 years ago. She always wanted a family. She married young and bought a house with a white picket fence and then learned that she couldn't have kids. Like me, she was diagnosed with PCOS. The loss of that dream of living happily ever after changed her. She lived "family life" vicariously through our other sister and her children, but it wasn't enough. In her last days she was very sad that she'd never had a child. It seemed to be her one real regret. I think if she'd had a child she would have fought harder to live. I wish she was here to share the miracle of this pregnancy with. I think she would have loved being an Auntie again. And I'm sure she would have driven me just as nuts as she did our sister Terri, with all of her opinions about how to raise our children.
My uncle Jan would be thrilled, too. We had a special connection, Jan and me, and know he'd be happy, too. He'd probably be pressing me to get married, but that's ok. He learned to respect my life-style choices even as he considered me a sinner. It's hard to believe he's been gone for 15 months already. The time has just flown by.
So much of my family has passed away. So many loved ones that I wish I could introduce my son to when he arrives. I feel sad about that, but try not to let it settle too deeply on me. That last thing I want to do is plunge into some sort of depression that will be difficult to shake.
A new life is entering the world soon. There is no replacing the ones who have passed away before him, but I'll tell him stories about Big Jan and Grandpa Hank and Auntie Tam and he'll know them in his own way. That's the beauty of language and memory. We're immortal as long as we're remembered.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
Mothering
I hobbled through life for many years as an emotional cripple. I loved with everything I was capable of, and sometimes it was enough. And sometimes it was not. But in those days, it was the best I could do. And in those days, I was aware of my emotional disability, and I was grateful that I could not have children.
In my early 30's everything changed. I wanted to grow. I wanted to become more fully me. I just didn't know how. Well, that isn't quite right. I knew that in order to effect meaningful change in my life, I needed to develop new, adult coping mechanisms. I just didn't know how to do that. I looked to the people in my life to learn how and made a very poor choice, landing myself in a same-sex relationship with a friend-turned-lover that was both physically and emotionally abusive.
And within months for embarking on that relationship, people I loved started dying. Four people in two years: my grandmother, my mother, my mother-figure, and a good friend. I went from an emotional cripple to an emotional quadraplegic. I couldn't cope. I understood the grieving process intellectually, but didn't know how to walk the path. Paralyzed, I huddled in on myself for a couple of years waiting for something, anything to change. And then it did. The woman I was involved with finally realized what I'd known after 6 months into our relationship, and broke things off.
Within two months I was in therapy. Something in me found the resolve to seek professional help. I wanted to understand myself, understand why I'd chosen an abusive relationship with a woman when I'd never tolerated anything of the sort from a man. And I wanted those adult coping mechanisms, damnit!
Therapy was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was 18 months of shoveling shit out of the barn in my head. Many times I wanted to quit, but I didn't, because I knew that if I stopped, I'd never start up again. It was just that painful.
But oh so worth it.
When I went in to my first appointment I told my therapist that I wanted help developing new coping mechanisms for today and tomorrow, and that I didn't want to revisit things deep in the past. I was very adamant about that. I was also very wrong.
In order to develop adult coping mechanisms, I needed to recognize the genesis of the ones that weren't working for me. And in order to determine why I'd chosen to remain in an abusive relationship with a woman, I needed to understand my relationship with my mother and how it shaped me, emotionally.
For years I'd blamed my being an emotional cripple on my father, a Viet Nam Vet whom I'd never liked even as a toddler, and who was physically, mentally and emotionally abusive all through my childhood. And while, certainly, his style of "fathering" was damaging, it was my mother's "mothering" skills, or lack thereof, which shaped my emotional landscape.
My mother was adopted. It's something she never got over, that very fundamental abandonment, and the onotological angst (Who am I? Why am I?) haunted her. She was herself an emotional cripple. She wanted closeness but feared it. She pulled with one hand and pushed with the other. She married to get away from her evangelical parents, and children were an accidental by-product of that choice. She didn't want children, and she didn't want motherhood. She hated keeping house and by the time I was five I was doing dishes and laundry, dressing my younger sisters, changing diapers, etc. I feared her temper. I kicked her once and she told me if I did it again, she'd break my leg. I believed her. She actually chased after me with a bullwhip once. When I was injured, I was afraid to go to her for care, because she was so impersonal and rough. But she had a wonderful voice and she told good stories and sometimes she was warm and loving. My best memories are of her playing with my hair.
She and my father fought, often violently, and after really bad fights one of them would disappear for a few days. But one day -- one day she went away and didn't come back.
And that was what crippled me.
See, children don't understand the world, but as children, we do try, and we make the best sense of it we can. In the absence of explanations that make sense to us, we connect the dots and come to our own conclusions. We make up our own meanings, our own stories, and we live inside them.
From a child's perspective, a mother is someone who loves you always, no matter what, and will always be there. From a child's perspective, when Mommy leaves you, it's because there is something wrong with you. When my mother left, my sisters and I made it mean that we were unlovable and unworthy -- that there was something wrong with us, something so wrong that even Mommy couldn't stand to be our mother. We internalized it and forgot the story we'd made up. We lived it.
And I took up the mantle of mothering. I thought that it was my fault that my sisters didn't have a mother anymore, so I took it on, as best I could. As best as any nine-year-old could. My father re-married and I took on my step-sisters, too, since their mother, like my father, was all too eager to offload parenting responsibilities so they could go play.
I became an enabler, a rescuer, a fixer. I became controlling and manipulative. I craved peace and harmony, and to my young eyes, the familiar, the status quo, was the closest I could come to that. I developed skills and coping mechanisms designed to perpetuate those conditions. It was a comfortable, if miserable existence. In therapy, I learned to call it what it was, neurosis. Jung said that neurosis is "the suffering of the soul which has not discovered its meaning" and that pretty much says it all.
So in the course of therapy, I discovered the story I'd made up about the little girl who was unworthy of her mother's love, and I learned to comfort my inner child and nurture her (instead of everyone else). I let go of my strangle-hold on my old ways of being and opened up to learning new tools and ways of being. I worked out my mommy-issues and my daddy-issues and took ownership of my life, my relationships, my emotions, thoughts, and attitudes. I fully inhabit me.
I'm emotionally and psychologically adult now. I am capable of loving and being loved without building barriers to protect myself from fears of loss and abandonment. I've buried three more family members in as many years and come through those experiences feeling enriched, and at times, transformed.
My biggest challenge so far has been dealing with my youngest sister, whose mental illness and refusal to accept the help and care she needs had challenged the limits of my ability to cope. Today she's in an institutional setting, the enforced structure of which seems to be giving her the basis she needs to examine and rebuild her life.
I'm facing a new challenge soon, the challenge of mothering my son, and I feel confident that I am up to it. Finally, at 44, I think I'm grown-up enough to be a good parent, to raise a child without fear of perpetuating the emotional and psychological issues that have plagued my family. And what a tremendous feeling it is!
In my early 30's everything changed. I wanted to grow. I wanted to become more fully me. I just didn't know how. Well, that isn't quite right. I knew that in order to effect meaningful change in my life, I needed to develop new, adult coping mechanisms. I just didn't know how to do that. I looked to the people in my life to learn how and made a very poor choice, landing myself in a same-sex relationship with a friend-turned-lover that was both physically and emotionally abusive.
And within months for embarking on that relationship, people I loved started dying. Four people in two years: my grandmother, my mother, my mother-figure, and a good friend. I went from an emotional cripple to an emotional quadraplegic. I couldn't cope. I understood the grieving process intellectually, but didn't know how to walk the path. Paralyzed, I huddled in on myself for a couple of years waiting for something, anything to change. And then it did. The woman I was involved with finally realized what I'd known after 6 months into our relationship, and broke things off.
Within two months I was in therapy. Something in me found the resolve to seek professional help. I wanted to understand myself, understand why I'd chosen an abusive relationship with a woman when I'd never tolerated anything of the sort from a man. And I wanted those adult coping mechanisms, damnit!
Therapy was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was 18 months of shoveling shit out of the barn in my head. Many times I wanted to quit, but I didn't, because I knew that if I stopped, I'd never start up again. It was just that painful.
But oh so worth it.
When I went in to my first appointment I told my therapist that I wanted help developing new coping mechanisms for today and tomorrow, and that I didn't want to revisit things deep in the past. I was very adamant about that. I was also very wrong.
In order to develop adult coping mechanisms, I needed to recognize the genesis of the ones that weren't working for me. And in order to determine why I'd chosen to remain in an abusive relationship with a woman, I needed to understand my relationship with my mother and how it shaped me, emotionally.
For years I'd blamed my being an emotional cripple on my father, a Viet Nam Vet whom I'd never liked even as a toddler, and who was physically, mentally and emotionally abusive all through my childhood. And while, certainly, his style of "fathering" was damaging, it was my mother's "mothering" skills, or lack thereof, which shaped my emotional landscape.
My mother was adopted. It's something she never got over, that very fundamental abandonment, and the onotological angst (Who am I? Why am I?) haunted her. She was herself an emotional cripple. She wanted closeness but feared it. She pulled with one hand and pushed with the other. She married to get away from her evangelical parents, and children were an accidental by-product of that choice. She didn't want children, and she didn't want motherhood. She hated keeping house and by the time I was five I was doing dishes and laundry, dressing my younger sisters, changing diapers, etc. I feared her temper. I kicked her once and she told me if I did it again, she'd break my leg. I believed her. She actually chased after me with a bullwhip once. When I was injured, I was afraid to go to her for care, because she was so impersonal and rough. But she had a wonderful voice and she told good stories and sometimes she was warm and loving. My best memories are of her playing with my hair.
She and my father fought, often violently, and after really bad fights one of them would disappear for a few days. But one day -- one day she went away and didn't come back.
And that was what crippled me.
See, children don't understand the world, but as children, we do try, and we make the best sense of it we can. In the absence of explanations that make sense to us, we connect the dots and come to our own conclusions. We make up our own meanings, our own stories, and we live inside them.
From a child's perspective, a mother is someone who loves you always, no matter what, and will always be there. From a child's perspective, when Mommy leaves you, it's because there is something wrong with you. When my mother left, my sisters and I made it mean that we were unlovable and unworthy -- that there was something wrong with us, something so wrong that even Mommy couldn't stand to be our mother. We internalized it and forgot the story we'd made up. We lived it.
And I took up the mantle of mothering. I thought that it was my fault that my sisters didn't have a mother anymore, so I took it on, as best I could. As best as any nine-year-old could. My father re-married and I took on my step-sisters, too, since their mother, like my father, was all too eager to offload parenting responsibilities so they could go play.
I became an enabler, a rescuer, a fixer. I became controlling and manipulative. I craved peace and harmony, and to my young eyes, the familiar, the status quo, was the closest I could come to that. I developed skills and coping mechanisms designed to perpetuate those conditions. It was a comfortable, if miserable existence. In therapy, I learned to call it what it was, neurosis. Jung said that neurosis is "the suffering of the soul which has not discovered its meaning" and that pretty much says it all.
So in the course of therapy, I discovered the story I'd made up about the little girl who was unworthy of her mother's love, and I learned to comfort my inner child and nurture her (instead of everyone else). I let go of my strangle-hold on my old ways of being and opened up to learning new tools and ways of being. I worked out my mommy-issues and my daddy-issues and took ownership of my life, my relationships, my emotions, thoughts, and attitudes. I fully inhabit me.
I'm emotionally and psychologically adult now. I am capable of loving and being loved without building barriers to protect myself from fears of loss and abandonment. I've buried three more family members in as many years and come through those experiences feeling enriched, and at times, transformed.
My biggest challenge so far has been dealing with my youngest sister, whose mental illness and refusal to accept the help and care she needs had challenged the limits of my ability to cope. Today she's in an institutional setting, the enforced structure of which seems to be giving her the basis she needs to examine and rebuild her life.
I'm facing a new challenge soon, the challenge of mothering my son, and I feel confident that I am up to it. Finally, at 44, I think I'm grown-up enough to be a good parent, to raise a child without fear of perpetuating the emotional and psychological issues that have plagued my family. And what a tremendous feeling it is!
Friday, March 23, 2012
Sleepless
A good night's sleep has become elusive. I'm up every couple of hours, lately with breast pain. There's nothing quite like waking up to the sound of your own moans. Even with my pain tolerance it's difficult to deal with, so I'm taking a couple of Tylenol most nights.
I'm starting to feel a bit anxious about breastfeeding -- and hoping the pain doesn't get much worse. I've had one hysterical-crying jag over terrible nipple pain and it really freaked M out. Poor dear. Even when I was in horrible pain from the infection and septicemia and the 8inch incision that had to close without stitches, I didn't express as much pain. Could be that septic experience "broke" my pain threshold, or could be that I'm just in that much pain. It's subjective, so what matters is -- it hurts!
The baby is getting bigger and he's a wiggle-worm. Last night M finally got to feel him moving around. Most of the time when M touches my belly the baby stops moving, but not this time. Maybe it's getting crowded in there?
Bigger baby means more internal pressure, which means I wake up more often with a need to shift positions. Which isn't easy anymore. Rolling over involves abdominal muscles that I just don't have the usual control over, so once I've rolled onto my back I feel like a turtle on it's back, trying to turn over. I'm considering trying rolling onto my belly/hands-and-knees and then laying on my other side from that position. Or maybe getting out of bed and then laying back down on the desired side. The nice thing about having a bed to myself is I can do that without disturbing anyone.
Being low on sleep makes me a bit cranky, and more than a little scattered. Combine that with all the hormonal pregnancy-brain stuff and I'm hardly recognizing myself these days. I can't seem to stay on top of commitments and appointments and whatnot. I've even called-off M's birthday party this weekend because I'm so tired that the thought of entertaining a large group of people for a few hours makes me want to cry.
But aside from the sleep deficit (which I'm sure I'll be getting used to once the baby comes) and the tender breasts, I'm feeling good. I'm learning to respect the limits of my body, so no more of those charlie-horse type cramps from over-exerting. I think that all the dietary supplements I'm taking are really helping support my health -- I haven't been sick in ages. Even the knee pain I experienced earlier in the pregnancy is gone, thankfully.
Eight more weeks. I can do eight more weeks of this. I think ;)
I'm starting to feel a bit anxious about breastfeeding -- and hoping the pain doesn't get much worse. I've had one hysterical-crying jag over terrible nipple pain and it really freaked M out. Poor dear. Even when I was in horrible pain from the infection and septicemia and the 8inch incision that had to close without stitches, I didn't express as much pain. Could be that septic experience "broke" my pain threshold, or could be that I'm just in that much pain. It's subjective, so what matters is -- it hurts!
The baby is getting bigger and he's a wiggle-worm. Last night M finally got to feel him moving around. Most of the time when M touches my belly the baby stops moving, but not this time. Maybe it's getting crowded in there?
Bigger baby means more internal pressure, which means I wake up more often with a need to shift positions. Which isn't easy anymore. Rolling over involves abdominal muscles that I just don't have the usual control over, so once I've rolled onto my back I feel like a turtle on it's back, trying to turn over. I'm considering trying rolling onto my belly/hands-and-knees and then laying on my other side from that position. Or maybe getting out of bed and then laying back down on the desired side. The nice thing about having a bed to myself is I can do that without disturbing anyone.
Being low on sleep makes me a bit cranky, and more than a little scattered. Combine that with all the hormonal pregnancy-brain stuff and I'm hardly recognizing myself these days. I can't seem to stay on top of commitments and appointments and whatnot. I've even called-off M's birthday party this weekend because I'm so tired that the thought of entertaining a large group of people for a few hours makes me want to cry.
But aside from the sleep deficit (which I'm sure I'll be getting used to once the baby comes) and the tender breasts, I'm feeling good. I'm learning to respect the limits of my body, so no more of those charlie-horse type cramps from over-exerting. I think that all the dietary supplements I'm taking are really helping support my health -- I haven't been sick in ages. Even the knee pain I experienced earlier in the pregnancy is gone, thankfully.
Eight more weeks. I can do eight more weeks of this. I think ;)
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
5 reasons why we shouldn't pass legislation to protect people from sinning
These are the top 5 reasons I can think of as to why we should not pass legislation to protect people from sinning:
1) What is "sin" is subjective. Depending on
your religious or cultural background, one person's sin is another
person's divine mandate. When trying to legislate against what one group
considers a sin, it is very likely that you're interfering with another
person's religious and/or civil liberties.
2) People who believe something is a sin still commit those sins. Some say it is a matter of degrees -- of whether something is a mortal, moral, priestly, venial or civil sin -- that determines whether they choose to "sin" or not. When you introduce shades of gray and give yourself permission to determine for yourself what sins you will and will not commit, it is hypocritical to then enforce your interpretations on others.
3) It makes for Big Brother Government. Laws
that regulate what people can and cannot do with their bodies because it
is "sinful" effectively puts the Government in your homes, your
bedrooms, your doctor's office, lawyer's office, and in some cases, in
your daughter's / wife's / mother's vagina. It gives government the
power to take subjective grey areas and render them into black-and-white
absolutes. It gives the government the authority to interfere with your civil liberties under the grounds of "protecting you from yourself."
5) If God gave Mankind the power to choose to sin or not to sin, who are we to interfere with God's Will? According to Scripture, God knew that Adam and Eve
would misuse their power to choose. Yet God chose to give them that
power, creating them "sufficient to have stood, though free to fall." If God is the ultimate authority, then why are Evangelicals undermining that authority by trying to strip others of their God-given right to self-determination?
Years
ago, in my High School Civics class, my instructor said something that
has stuck with me: "The best measure of a law is the possible abuse of
that law." He went on to explain that people propose laws with the best intentions in mind, but rarely consider the possible undesirable outcomes when those laws are used in unintended ways.
It is with that in mind that I opposed the Patriot Act and the expansion and renewal of that Act. Privacy and civil liberties have been eroded in order to save us from "terrorism." It is also with that in mind that I oppose all of the legislation out there that erodes women's rights to self-determination under the auspices of saving them from the "sin" of abortion.
The trans-vaginal ultrasound bills that have been circulated and passed and the Legislator's "just close your eyes" response fails to address the invasiveness of the ultrasound wand. A woman can't "just close her legs" when a technician tries to put the wand up her vagina -- not if she wants an abortion, anyway. We're giving government the authority to force women to submit to procedures they don't want under the auspices of preventing her from committing the "sin" of abortion. Not so long ago government had the authority to sterilize the mentally retarded and people in mental institutions because people thought it was wrong for them to reproduce and because they didn't want to deal with the reality of the sexual abuse that went on in those institutions which the pregnancies were evidence of. In just the same way, elements of our society are trying to prevent abortions from occurring while refusing to address the ugly societal realities of why women are wanting abortions in the first place.
And this legislation that gives doctors immunity from lawsuits if they lie to women about medical conditions that might result in a woman choosing to terminate the pregnancy sets a dangerous precedent. What next? It's ok for a doctor to lie to a patient's family if it prevents them following through with Grandma's medical directive to pull the plug on life support? It's ok for lawyers to lie to clients about the instructions in a living will or medical directive they just drafted regarding life support?
This is a slippery slope we really don't want to go down.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Mid-march: 10 weeks left, max.
It's been a busy March so far.
All the the work we planned to do to the exterior of the house has been accelerated from "sometime this summer" to "before the baby comes."
The landscapers completed the re-sod of the front yard and they planted two of the three flowering cherry trees for us. It looks spectacular, and was completed just in time for this week's downpour.
The update to the small strip alongside the driveway where we keep the garbage bins is almost complete. It's been a DIY project to remove the bark mulch and soil and replace it with pavers and pond pebbles. I gave myself a couple of charlie-horse level cramps in my low abdomen from hauling the .5 cubic foot bags of rocks around, thus putting an end to most of my lifting -- which is why the project isn't completely done yet. I took some bamboo fencing and built a frame around it (I love power tools), put it on wheels, and now we have a movable screen to camouflage the garbage bins. I just need to paint the frame white once it stops raining and the wood dries.
I also have some hosta, ferns, and astilbe to plant in the beds out front, but with 4 days of non-stop rain, I've not gotten around to it yet.
Meanwhile, the plum tree is almost done blooming, the peach tree has the most amazing pink-flamingo flowers, and two of the three flowering cherries are in bloom. The fuzzy, thumb-sized wisteria buds have become beautiful purple flower clusters, and the Impatiens sodenii (Poor Man's Rhododendron--what a stupid name for a gorgeous plant) that I dug up and divided two weeks ago is incredibly happy with the new locations. M and I also dug up and divided a whole bank of Lily of the Nile (Agapanthus) into about 100 plants. We used a half-dozen on our property, planted another 15 or so on the parking strips in the neighborhood, gave some away to neighbors, and let the landscaper (who looked longingly at the divisions) have the rest. They are such beautiful, zero-maintenance, drought-tolerant plants.
One of my cats has been sick for a week, a pet-food allergy I think, and I accidentally gave him the wrong kind of anti-histamine, which resulted in a very expensive over-night stay at the animal hospital a few blocks away.
I've had my follow-up ultrasound for the baby -- he's right on target size-wise for his age, thankfully, so my working to keep my weight down (just 4# gained so far!) isn't affecting his growth.
I've also done 24 hour urine collection for toxemia testing. I'm doing the kick counts now that I'm past the 28 week mark, and in a month I'll start doing the daily pee-on-a-stick test for toxemia. The last blood sugar test for gestational diabetes was great, but I'm due for a new one, as well as some blood-work. I'll probably get that done Monday.
Moving around is a lot less graceful, and I wasn't terribly graceful to begin with. I'm not quite ponderous, but getting there. Just rolling from one side to another in bed often results in little pains and moans. I can feel pulling sensations deep inside me as muscles stretch and ligaments loosen. For the most part my hair, nails, and skin are great, except where my skin is doing weird things. My breasts are filling in, and though they are hurting less right now, my nipples still seem to catch fire at random moments day and night. Standing, I cannot see my toes anymore. When I start feeling especially thwarted or limited, I just remind myself I've got 10 weeks left.
Tomorrow is St Patrick's day, and then a week later we'll have a birthday party for M. His father is coming to visit for a couple of weeks and hopefully the rain will let up so the two of them can tackle some of the outdoor projects that need to be done in the back yard area.
April is going to be busy with getting things ready for the baby inside the house. We've started getting baby gifts already, which is awesome! Baby shower in April, as well as most of the classes to prep me for childbirth and nursing. Oh, and we're looking at buying an investment (rental) property before the baby comes, so things probably will be intense right up to the moment the baby comes.
All the the work we planned to do to the exterior of the house has been accelerated from "sometime this summer" to "before the baby comes."
The landscapers completed the re-sod of the front yard and they planted two of the three flowering cherry trees for us. It looks spectacular, and was completed just in time for this week's downpour.
The update to the small strip alongside the driveway where we keep the garbage bins is almost complete. It's been a DIY project to remove the bark mulch and soil and replace it with pavers and pond pebbles. I gave myself a couple of charlie-horse level cramps in my low abdomen from hauling the .5 cubic foot bags of rocks around, thus putting an end to most of my lifting -- which is why the project isn't completely done yet. I took some bamboo fencing and built a frame around it (I love power tools), put it on wheels, and now we have a movable screen to camouflage the garbage bins. I just need to paint the frame white once it stops raining and the wood dries.
I also have some hosta, ferns, and astilbe to plant in the beds out front, but with 4 days of non-stop rain, I've not gotten around to it yet.
Meanwhile, the plum tree is almost done blooming, the peach tree has the most amazing pink-flamingo flowers, and two of the three flowering cherries are in bloom. The fuzzy, thumb-sized wisteria buds have become beautiful purple flower clusters, and the Impatiens sodenii (Poor Man's Rhododendron--what a stupid name for a gorgeous plant) that I dug up and divided two weeks ago is incredibly happy with the new locations. M and I also dug up and divided a whole bank of Lily of the Nile (Agapanthus) into about 100 plants. We used a half-dozen on our property, planted another 15 or so on the parking strips in the neighborhood, gave some away to neighbors, and let the landscaper (who looked longingly at the divisions) have the rest. They are such beautiful, zero-maintenance, drought-tolerant plants.
One of my cats has been sick for a week, a pet-food allergy I think, and I accidentally gave him the wrong kind of anti-histamine, which resulted in a very expensive over-night stay at the animal hospital a few blocks away.
I've had my follow-up ultrasound for the baby -- he's right on target size-wise for his age, thankfully, so my working to keep my weight down (just 4# gained so far!) isn't affecting his growth.
I've also done 24 hour urine collection for toxemia testing. I'm doing the kick counts now that I'm past the 28 week mark, and in a month I'll start doing the daily pee-on-a-stick test for toxemia. The last blood sugar test for gestational diabetes was great, but I'm due for a new one, as well as some blood-work. I'll probably get that done Monday.
Moving around is a lot less graceful, and I wasn't terribly graceful to begin with. I'm not quite ponderous, but getting there. Just rolling from one side to another in bed often results in little pains and moans. I can feel pulling sensations deep inside me as muscles stretch and ligaments loosen. For the most part my hair, nails, and skin are great, except where my skin is doing weird things. My breasts are filling in, and though they are hurting less right now, my nipples still seem to catch fire at random moments day and night. Standing, I cannot see my toes anymore. When I start feeling especially thwarted or limited, I just remind myself I've got 10 weeks left.
Tomorrow is St Patrick's day, and then a week later we'll have a birthday party for M. His father is coming to visit for a couple of weeks and hopefully the rain will let up so the two of them can tackle some of the outdoor projects that need to be done in the back yard area.
April is going to be busy with getting things ready for the baby inside the house. We've started getting baby gifts already, which is awesome! Baby shower in April, as well as most of the classes to prep me for childbirth and nursing. Oh, and we're looking at buying an investment (rental) property before the baby comes, so things probably will be intense right up to the moment the baby comes.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Adding Omega-3's to my prenatal supplement regime
So I'm taking prenatal vitamins, and extra folic acid, vitamin D, and calcium -- everything my nutritionist recommended. This week, after doing some reading, I've added DHA & EPA Omega-3 fatty acid tablets.
Dr. Sears from our baby book says: "DHA is the most important brain-building nutrient at all ages, especially during pregnancy and the pre-school years when the child's brain is growing the fastest."
Right now our son's brain is developing rapidly and I'd like to give him all the advantages I can. DHA supplements are being recommended for women during Third Trimester and breastfeeding. Studies show that children of women who took supplements during third trimester and breastfeeding have IQs 10 points higher than control subjects, have better attention spans, etc. It also seems that taking DHA helps reduce postpartum depression.
It is difficult to get DHA via dietary means when I'm pregnant and breastfeeding because the best sources of DHA (Omega-3 fatty acids) are oily fishes and organ meats -- things most women avoid during pregnancy because of the bio-accumulation of toxins like mercury and PCBs in the big fish and animal organs. I've all but eliminated tuna from my diet, and while I still have salmon and cod on occasion, it's not enough.
I used to take fish oil capsules a few years ago, but I found the fishy aftertaste and the fish-burps unbearable. And with supplements made from fish oil, I'm still concerned about toxins. Fortunately, I found an alternative: DHA from the same place that fish get it. Algae.
I'll keep taking it for the next 6 months or so.
Dr. Sears from our baby book says: "DHA is the most important brain-building nutrient at all ages, especially during pregnancy and the pre-school years when the child's brain is growing the fastest."
Right now our son's brain is developing rapidly and I'd like to give him all the advantages I can. DHA supplements are being recommended for women during Third Trimester and breastfeeding. Studies show that children of women who took supplements during third trimester and breastfeeding have IQs 10 points higher than control subjects, have better attention spans, etc. It also seems that taking DHA helps reduce postpartum depression.
It is difficult to get DHA via dietary means when I'm pregnant and breastfeeding because the best sources of DHA (Omega-3 fatty acids) are oily fishes and organ meats -- things most women avoid during pregnancy because of the bio-accumulation of toxins like mercury and PCBs in the big fish and animal organs. I've all but eliminated tuna from my diet, and while I still have salmon and cod on occasion, it's not enough.
I used to take fish oil capsules a few years ago, but I found the fishy aftertaste and the fish-burps unbearable. And with supplements made from fish oil, I'm still concerned about toxins. Fortunately, I found an alternative: DHA from the same place that fish get it. Algae.
I'll keep taking it for the next 6 months or so.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Pregnant in Forties equals High Risk Pregnancy (so they say)
I've spent days working on a particular post that isn't ready yet, and in the meantime, the baby is growing.
It seems like just yesterday that I noticed the hardness of my uterus creeping up past my belly button. Now it's half-way to my diaphragm. I've gotten used to that constantly-bloated feeling now. I go in for a growth ultrasound on Thursday to make sure he's the right size for his age. I don't think that's going to be a problem.
Since I'm in my Forties, this is considered a high-risk pregnancy. So far, at 27 weeks, I'm not retaining any water. No puffiness in my face or extremities. My breathing is good -- I only feel winded when I try to keep up with M when we're walking together. My blood pressure is good. Soon I'll be monitoring my urine for signs of stress on my kidneys (toxemia), and I'll go in for another blood glucose test soon to make sure I'm not getting gestational diabetes. My mood is good, especially now that M is over his shock and talking more openly about the baby. For a while there I had dark spells in which I felt very alone and stuck.
I've either gotten used to the soreness on my knees that has plagued me since the First Trimester, or it's let up for some reason. They still hurt, but not as much. Getting up from the couch and even out of bed is more work these days. I used to sleep mostly in the middle of my bed, but I've changed to sleeping on the right side of my bed, leaving the entire left side clear, which gives me lots of room to sleep on my left side and none on my right. Sleeping on my back makes my legs tingle and sleeping on my right puts pressure on the superior vena cava, and as the baby grows it will only get worse, so I'm using pillows to keep me from sleeping any direction but left. Thank God M and I have separate beds!
I'm wearing a bra to bed at night, have been for a while. My breasts tend to wake me with aches and burning if I don't. So far they haven't grown drastically in cup size... they've just filled-in, back to the firmness I remember in my 20s. If they fill in much more, though, I'm going to have to step up another cup size.
Laughing, coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, vomiting -- these things put pressure on my bladder and often result in a change of clothing. I may resort to wearing panty-liners soon.
I'm fidgety. I'm constantly changing positions. Switching between couch and chair. Laying on the water bed once in a while instead of my tempurpedic. Standing I like, so long as there is movement involved. If I'm standing in a line for more than 15 minutes my low back starts to hurt. I try to finish what I start, but I find that I'm over-estimating my stamina. I really have to pace myself, especially with regards to exertion like digging things up in the garden, etc. I get cramps and feel sore low under my belly when I over do it.
I find that I'm hungry a lot more often these days. I'm trying to keep the noshing under control by stocking the fridge with greek yogurt and snap peas and sticks of cheese, and by navigating around certain shops when I'm on my walks. I'm two and three blocks from a Cold Stone Creamery, Beard Papa's Desserts, and Fletch's Footlongs for example. A couple of blocks more and there's bubble tea places, chinese, thai, and indian restaurants, two hot pot places (one chinese and one japanese), a dozen sushi and bento places, several pizza shops, two donut shops, gelato and coffee shops, four italian places, and two organic gourmet burger joints in addition to KFC, Taco Bell, and Burger King. Yeah -- I live in a pregnant woman's food paradise -- or nightmare, depending on perspective.
On the up side, my hair and skin and nails look great. I have a good excuse to nap whenever I want to. M is more solicitous with regards to my comfort, and more zealous about my physical exertion. I get to intersperse my activities with "just being" down-time. This works well with the whole pregnancy-brain thing. I find that if I give myself time to zone-out and just be, I feel less stressed and am less likely to experience those pregnancy-brain blank-outs at inconvenient moments.
So far, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed, this high-risk pregnancy has been pretty low-key. 12 more weeks to go, and we'll be bringing a little one home. Which reminds me... I should start thinking about buying some nursery furniture and figuring out how to incorporate a newborn's paraphernalia into my bedroom.
It seems like just yesterday that I noticed the hardness of my uterus creeping up past my belly button. Now it's half-way to my diaphragm. I've gotten used to that constantly-bloated feeling now. I go in for a growth ultrasound on Thursday to make sure he's the right size for his age. I don't think that's going to be a problem.
Since I'm in my Forties, this is considered a high-risk pregnancy. So far, at 27 weeks, I'm not retaining any water. No puffiness in my face or extremities. My breathing is good -- I only feel winded when I try to keep up with M when we're walking together. My blood pressure is good. Soon I'll be monitoring my urine for signs of stress on my kidneys (toxemia), and I'll go in for another blood glucose test soon to make sure I'm not getting gestational diabetes. My mood is good, especially now that M is over his shock and talking more openly about the baby. For a while there I had dark spells in which I felt very alone and stuck.
I've either gotten used to the soreness on my knees that has plagued me since the First Trimester, or it's let up for some reason. They still hurt, but not as much. Getting up from the couch and even out of bed is more work these days. I used to sleep mostly in the middle of my bed, but I've changed to sleeping on the right side of my bed, leaving the entire left side clear, which gives me lots of room to sleep on my left side and none on my right. Sleeping on my back makes my legs tingle and sleeping on my right puts pressure on the superior vena cava, and as the baby grows it will only get worse, so I'm using pillows to keep me from sleeping any direction but left. Thank God M and I have separate beds!
I'm wearing a bra to bed at night, have been for a while. My breasts tend to wake me with aches and burning if I don't. So far they haven't grown drastically in cup size... they've just filled-in, back to the firmness I remember in my 20s. If they fill in much more, though, I'm going to have to step up another cup size.
Laughing, coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, vomiting -- these things put pressure on my bladder and often result in a change of clothing. I may resort to wearing panty-liners soon.
I'm fidgety. I'm constantly changing positions. Switching between couch and chair. Laying on the water bed once in a while instead of my tempurpedic. Standing I like, so long as there is movement involved. If I'm standing in a line for more than 15 minutes my low back starts to hurt. I try to finish what I start, but I find that I'm over-estimating my stamina. I really have to pace myself, especially with regards to exertion like digging things up in the garden, etc. I get cramps and feel sore low under my belly when I over do it.
I find that I'm hungry a lot more often these days. I'm trying to keep the noshing under control by stocking the fridge with greek yogurt and snap peas and sticks of cheese, and by navigating around certain shops when I'm on my walks. I'm two and three blocks from a Cold Stone Creamery, Beard Papa's Desserts, and Fletch's Footlongs for example. A couple of blocks more and there's bubble tea places, chinese, thai, and indian restaurants, two hot pot places (one chinese and one japanese), a dozen sushi and bento places, several pizza shops, two donut shops, gelato and coffee shops, four italian places, and two organic gourmet burger joints in addition to KFC, Taco Bell, and Burger King. Yeah -- I live in a pregnant woman's food paradise -- or nightmare, depending on perspective.
On the up side, my hair and skin and nails look great. I have a good excuse to nap whenever I want to. M is more solicitous with regards to my comfort, and more zealous about my physical exertion. I get to intersperse my activities with "just being" down-time. This works well with the whole pregnancy-brain thing. I find that if I give myself time to zone-out and just be, I feel less stressed and am less likely to experience those pregnancy-brain blank-outs at inconvenient moments.
So far, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed, this high-risk pregnancy has been pretty low-key. 12 more weeks to go, and we'll be bringing a little one home. Which reminds me... I should start thinking about buying some nursery furniture and figuring out how to incorporate a newborn's paraphernalia into my bedroom.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Letter #2 to my unborn son
Darling boy,
We are in week 26 of our journey together, the start of the third trimester, and you will arrive in 12 to 13 weeks. For silly reasons of my own I am hoping that you arrive after May 20th, though that may change as you grow larger and the rigors of pregnancy take their toll.
In the past three weeks my body has changed significantly. I definitely have a belly now, and I notice it most when I'm out for a walk. I have to ask your father to slow down now, because when I try to keep up with him I get a cramp :) As each day goes by I am able to exert myself less without cramps or aches. I notice it most when I'm working in the garden. Even with tools I'm having to take things easy, and I can't assume that I'll be able to do as much from one day to the next. I'm staying as active as I can without risking our safety.
Most days it feels like Spring, which is good, because I'm not feeling as chilled as I was just a few weeks ago. The primroses I planted last year are re-blooming, and the red cyclamen are still growing strong. They are the same color of red as the front door. I've noticed that the wisteria has dozens of flower buds that seem to be swelling a little bit every day. The jasmine are really growing, and the scented rose is leafing out. The plum tree in back is just starting to show it's white blossoms, and in a few weeks, so will the peach tree. The lemon verbena is putting out some leaves now. I'd feared it died in last month's unusual chill. I love the lemon smell and once it is strong again, I'll transplant it into the same flower bed as the rosemary and lavender bushes. I've also got a bird-of-paradise plant to put in between the bottle-brush tree and the mandarin tree at the edge of the patio. In a few years it's orange and red and blue flowers will tie-in the colors of the two trees, and fill the space between them with beautiful foliage. I hope you'll inherit my love of plants, and help me in the garden as you grow.
Hopefully by the end of February the work at the front of the house will be done. We're putting in irrigation and replacing the 60 year old lawn. When that work is done I'll be planting hostas, ferns and astilbe in the flowerbed under the living room windows, and the weeping cherry blossom trees will be planted at the yard's edge, near the sidewalk. In late March your grandfather on your father's side will be coming to stay for a bit, and we'll work on the side yard together. The gravel that was put in by the previous owners is black with sharp edges--pretty enough, but it's not safe for you--and we'll replace it with pavers, thus extending the patio area into a space that will be cool and shady on warm summer afternoons.
Sleeping is becoming more of a challenge, which isn't unexpected. It's a struggle to sleep on my side. I'm constantly waking up on my back with tingly nerve feelings in my legs. I am grateful for the tempurpedic bed, because otherwise I'd be sore and sleepless most of the time.
I'm trying not to obsess too much about the world you're being born into, and I'm trying not to let the sadness, anger, and despair I sometimes feel stick around for too long. I know that the biochemical soup you're swimming in can be affected by my stress, and thus affects you.
The world is in a sorry state, though. Carbon dioxide emissions have jumped tremendously, beyond the worst-case scenarios of many scientists. The oceans are acidifying because of carbon dioxide build-up, and the glaciers and polar ice are melting far more rapidly than predicted. When the rest of the world appears to be in agreement that we all need to limit CO2 emissions and wean off oil, the US, dominated as it is by oil-company-interests and lobbyists, seems determined to believe that we're the smart ones and the rest of the world has been suckered by a hoax (roll eyes). Here in the States we've picked up the pace of natural gas extraction using techniques called "fracking", techniques that pump millions of gallons of water and chemicals into the ground to liberate the gas. The problem is, it's polluting ground-water, and drinking water is already in short supply world-wide. How terribly short-sighted of us.
Southern Europe is in a financial crises, and seeing as Italy accounts for nearly 20% of the GDP for the EU, it cannot be allowed to fail. However, the corrupt politicians and even more corrupt mafia are making people extremely reluctant to co-operate with austerity measures. Greece is on fire, literally. The people of Greece are protesting the way the world banks and the European Union are handling that nation's debt crisis -- a problem created with the help of Goldman Sachs, who helped Greece's politicians conceal it's debts so it could get into the EU in the first place.
I'm not sure what the Internet is going to look like for you when you're old enough to use it. Powerful lobbies are at work to make it easier to monetize media traffic and invade people's privacy in the name of copyright and IP protection. Between that and the increasing amount of money that corporations are pouring into PACs which influence the political landscape, I half-fear that Neal Stephenson's novel Snow Crash will be far more prophetic than any of us will like. Will you come into adulthood living in a corporate enclave in a corporate town policed by corporate security in an America in which the line between the haves and have-nots is sharply delineated? Or will you grow up in Canada, your father's homeland, because we had to flee the insanity here in the US? I don't know, but more and more it is looking like it may be a necessary option.
Everywhere in the world there is ideological oppression of one sort or another. Right now in the US women's rights are being targeted by politicians on the Right, hoping somehow to invigorate their conservative Christian base to get out and vote in November. The Republicans are having their primaries and caucuses right now, and it looks like less than 5% of eligible voters are actually showing up at the polls. I think all the negative super-PAC ads and attacks are alienating all voters, regardless of party. And I'm not sure this is accidental. It is in corporate interests to keep voter participation to a minimum. It is easier to control for a smaller electorate than a large, active one. It costs them less money to buy votes and politicians that way, and they've a much better chance of making sure things go their way.
Currently we're embroiled in a health care debate over whether or not employers should be required to provide health insurance that covers prescription contraceptives. The argument is it violates the freedom of religion in this country. The irony is that the Founding Fathers weren't concerned with preserving religious freedom from government interference. They were concerned about keeping religion OUT of government. Most of them were Deists, and most of them were appalled by the control that the various religious sects exerted over their congregations, cities, counties, and even states. The Christians of a couple of hundred years ago were not shy about running people out of town if they weren't of the same denomination, and weren't shy about trying to expand theocracy, which the Founding Fathers considered antithetical to their Enlightenment-Period beliefs and values. But most Americans are woefully ignorant of what happened yesterday, never mind what happened 200 or 300 years ago. Most are sheeple who are willing to believe what someone else spoon-feeds them, as long as it is dressed up to suit their ideological bent. It's sad, and discouraging, and frankly, disgusting.
But for all that, I am hopeful. I'm looking for ways to make the world a better place for you. I'm working on developing community in our neighborhood. I'm planting fruits and vegetables on our property and helping in Rachel's community garden. I'm looking at ways to develop and expand the Green Economy. I envision a world in which people live in harmony with the planet. A world in which every person lives a sustainable lifestyle and every company does business in a sustainable way. I believe it is possible for humanity to leap toward a new level of consciousness that unites, rather than divides us. If I didn't think it was possible to turn the tide of the world toward such things, I could not bring you into it. I hope when the time comes that you're self-aware and world-aware that you won't hate the older generations for what we've done, and what we've failed to do. I hope, I really hope, to make this a better world for you.
Love,
Mom
We are in week 26 of our journey together, the start of the third trimester, and you will arrive in 12 to 13 weeks. For silly reasons of my own I am hoping that you arrive after May 20th, though that may change as you grow larger and the rigors of pregnancy take their toll.
In the past three weeks my body has changed significantly. I definitely have a belly now, and I notice it most when I'm out for a walk. I have to ask your father to slow down now, because when I try to keep up with him I get a cramp :) As each day goes by I am able to exert myself less without cramps or aches. I notice it most when I'm working in the garden. Even with tools I'm having to take things easy, and I can't assume that I'll be able to do as much from one day to the next. I'm staying as active as I can without risking our safety.
Most days it feels like Spring, which is good, because I'm not feeling as chilled as I was just a few weeks ago. The primroses I planted last year are re-blooming, and the red cyclamen are still growing strong. They are the same color of red as the front door. I've noticed that the wisteria has dozens of flower buds that seem to be swelling a little bit every day. The jasmine are really growing, and the scented rose is leafing out. The plum tree in back is just starting to show it's white blossoms, and in a few weeks, so will the peach tree. The lemon verbena is putting out some leaves now. I'd feared it died in last month's unusual chill. I love the lemon smell and once it is strong again, I'll transplant it into the same flower bed as the rosemary and lavender bushes. I've also got a bird-of-paradise plant to put in between the bottle-brush tree and the mandarin tree at the edge of the patio. In a few years it's orange and red and blue flowers will tie-in the colors of the two trees, and fill the space between them with beautiful foliage. I hope you'll inherit my love of plants, and help me in the garden as you grow.
Hopefully by the end of February the work at the front of the house will be done. We're putting in irrigation and replacing the 60 year old lawn. When that work is done I'll be planting hostas, ferns and astilbe in the flowerbed under the living room windows, and the weeping cherry blossom trees will be planted at the yard's edge, near the sidewalk. In late March your grandfather on your father's side will be coming to stay for a bit, and we'll work on the side yard together. The gravel that was put in by the previous owners is black with sharp edges--pretty enough, but it's not safe for you--and we'll replace it with pavers, thus extending the patio area into a space that will be cool and shady on warm summer afternoons.
Sleeping is becoming more of a challenge, which isn't unexpected. It's a struggle to sleep on my side. I'm constantly waking up on my back with tingly nerve feelings in my legs. I am grateful for the tempurpedic bed, because otherwise I'd be sore and sleepless most of the time.
I'm trying not to obsess too much about the world you're being born into, and I'm trying not to let the sadness, anger, and despair I sometimes feel stick around for too long. I know that the biochemical soup you're swimming in can be affected by my stress, and thus affects you.
The world is in a sorry state, though. Carbon dioxide emissions have jumped tremendously, beyond the worst-case scenarios of many scientists. The oceans are acidifying because of carbon dioxide build-up, and the glaciers and polar ice are melting far more rapidly than predicted. When the rest of the world appears to be in agreement that we all need to limit CO2 emissions and wean off oil, the US, dominated as it is by oil-company-interests and lobbyists, seems determined to believe that we're the smart ones and the rest of the world has been suckered by a hoax (roll eyes). Here in the States we've picked up the pace of natural gas extraction using techniques called "fracking", techniques that pump millions of gallons of water and chemicals into the ground to liberate the gas. The problem is, it's polluting ground-water, and drinking water is already in short supply world-wide. How terribly short-sighted of us.
Southern Europe is in a financial crises, and seeing as Italy accounts for nearly 20% of the GDP for the EU, it cannot be allowed to fail. However, the corrupt politicians and even more corrupt mafia are making people extremely reluctant to co-operate with austerity measures. Greece is on fire, literally. The people of Greece are protesting the way the world banks and the European Union are handling that nation's debt crisis -- a problem created with the help of Goldman Sachs, who helped Greece's politicians conceal it's debts so it could get into the EU in the first place.
I'm not sure what the Internet is going to look like for you when you're old enough to use it. Powerful lobbies are at work to make it easier to monetize media traffic and invade people's privacy in the name of copyright and IP protection. Between that and the increasing amount of money that corporations are pouring into PACs which influence the political landscape, I half-fear that Neal Stephenson's novel Snow Crash will be far more prophetic than any of us will like. Will you come into adulthood living in a corporate enclave in a corporate town policed by corporate security in an America in which the line between the haves and have-nots is sharply delineated? Or will you grow up in Canada, your father's homeland, because we had to flee the insanity here in the US? I don't know, but more and more it is looking like it may be a necessary option.
Everywhere in the world there is ideological oppression of one sort or another. Right now in the US women's rights are being targeted by politicians on the Right, hoping somehow to invigorate their conservative Christian base to get out and vote in November. The Republicans are having their primaries and caucuses right now, and it looks like less than 5% of eligible voters are actually showing up at the polls. I think all the negative super-PAC ads and attacks are alienating all voters, regardless of party. And I'm not sure this is accidental. It is in corporate interests to keep voter participation to a minimum. It is easier to control for a smaller electorate than a large, active one. It costs them less money to buy votes and politicians that way, and they've a much better chance of making sure things go their way.
Currently we're embroiled in a health care debate over whether or not employers should be required to provide health insurance that covers prescription contraceptives. The argument is it violates the freedom of religion in this country. The irony is that the Founding Fathers weren't concerned with preserving religious freedom from government interference. They were concerned about keeping religion OUT of government. Most of them were Deists, and most of them were appalled by the control that the various religious sects exerted over their congregations, cities, counties, and even states. The Christians of a couple of hundred years ago were not shy about running people out of town if they weren't of the same denomination, and weren't shy about trying to expand theocracy, which the Founding Fathers considered antithetical to their Enlightenment-Period beliefs and values. But most Americans are woefully ignorant of what happened yesterday, never mind what happened 200 or 300 years ago. Most are sheeple who are willing to believe what someone else spoon-feeds them, as long as it is dressed up to suit their ideological bent. It's sad, and discouraging, and frankly, disgusting.
But for all that, I am hopeful. I'm looking for ways to make the world a better place for you. I'm working on developing community in our neighborhood. I'm planting fruits and vegetables on our property and helping in Rachel's community garden. I'm looking at ways to develop and expand the Green Economy. I envision a world in which people live in harmony with the planet. A world in which every person lives a sustainable lifestyle and every company does business in a sustainable way. I believe it is possible for humanity to leap toward a new level of consciousness that unites, rather than divides us. If I didn't think it was possible to turn the tide of the world toward such things, I could not bring you into it. I hope when the time comes that you're self-aware and world-aware that you won't hate the older generations for what we've done, and what we've failed to do. I hope, I really hope, to make this a better world for you.
Love,
Mom
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Pregnancy and Emotions. Arrgghhhh!
Pregnancy and emotions go together like peas and carrots or corned beef and cabbage. Combinations I do not care for, I must admit. I'm finding myself overly-sensitive to things being said to me. I'm hearing "tone" that isn't there, and quite often I'm reacting before it occurs to me to stop and evaluate. I'm reading something, or listening to a program, or having a conversation and suddenly I'm in tears.
Most of the women I know have taken this escalation in stride, but I'm having real difficulties with it. I'm not normally an emotionally reactive person. I worked hard to put filters in place between impulse and action, and I usually do a good job of examining both my emotional responses, and the appropriateness of the actions I want to take. I understand that my thoughts and attitudes are causal forces in my life, and that while I may not have control over how I feel about something, I do have control over how I react. And how I react creates my life.
Enter pregnancy.
Context, contemplation, and understanding of the subjective nature of personal reality have taken a back seat to impulse. No more taking a moment to check-in and ask myself if that person really meant to say what I think I heard. Nope. I'm just going with whatever I'm feeling in the moment. And while that feels perfectly natural in that moment, the moments following whatever outburst occurs are pretty surreal. Some days I know I'm being unreasonable and irrational and I warn my partner in advance. But much of the time I'm apologizing to him after the fact. When I get upset and agitated, he gets upset and agitated -- mainly because until recently, I rarely ever got upset and agitated, and when I did, it was usually for a very obvious reason, and now all of a sudden I'm getting all worked-up and he has no idea why, which makes him feel attacked and/or anxious.
In some ways it is comical. I'm being what he considers a typical female right now -- so maybe I've not gone as far off my rocker as I think. He's mentioned how my emotional reactivity during pregnancy makes him appreciate just how even-tempered I normally am. And of course he's looking forward to the day I return to my normal self. I had to warn him last night that it may be a while, since breastfeeding will almost certainly prolong the duration of hormone-related emotions. I'm hoping I'll have developed a new strategy for coping with it before the baby is born. I'm probably being overly optimistic, though.
Bottom line, being in control of myself is very important to me, and I'm feeling powerless to control myself. Fortunately, my partner is being understanding. For now, anyway ;)
Most of the women I know have taken this escalation in stride, but I'm having real difficulties with it. I'm not normally an emotionally reactive person. I worked hard to put filters in place between impulse and action, and I usually do a good job of examining both my emotional responses, and the appropriateness of the actions I want to take. I understand that my thoughts and attitudes are causal forces in my life, and that while I may not have control over how I feel about something, I do have control over how I react. And how I react creates my life.
Enter pregnancy.
Context, contemplation, and understanding of the subjective nature of personal reality have taken a back seat to impulse. No more taking a moment to check-in and ask myself if that person really meant to say what I think I heard. Nope. I'm just going with whatever I'm feeling in the moment. And while that feels perfectly natural in that moment, the moments following whatever outburst occurs are pretty surreal. Some days I know I'm being unreasonable and irrational and I warn my partner in advance. But much of the time I'm apologizing to him after the fact. When I get upset and agitated, he gets upset and agitated -- mainly because until recently, I rarely ever got upset and agitated, and when I did, it was usually for a very obvious reason, and now all of a sudden I'm getting all worked-up and he has no idea why, which makes him feel attacked and/or anxious.
In some ways it is comical. I'm being what he considers a typical female right now -- so maybe I've not gone as far off my rocker as I think. He's mentioned how my emotional reactivity during pregnancy makes him appreciate just how even-tempered I normally am. And of course he's looking forward to the day I return to my normal self. I had to warn him last night that it may be a while, since breastfeeding will almost certainly prolong the duration of hormone-related emotions. I'm hoping I'll have developed a new strategy for coping with it before the baby is born. I'm probably being overly optimistic, though.
Bottom line, being in control of myself is very important to me, and I'm feeling powerless to control myself. Fortunately, my partner is being understanding. For now, anyway ;)
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Controlling Food Cravings & Using Artificial Sweeteners
A friend read my Weight management during pregnancy post and commented that "everybody could use advice on how to curb cravings. What do you mean by "redirect and relent?" This is a good question and as I was writing my response to him I realized that it would make a good blog topic, especially for women who are pregnant.
The content in my previous post that prompted his query was:
Redirect: This strategy starts with a question: Am I really hungry, or am I bored/nervous/upset? If the answer is yes, I really am hungry, then I try to redirect focus from the death-by-chocolate cake I am craving to a protein or granola bar or a piece of fresh fruit--ie, to something healthier that tastes good, too. If the answer is no, I'm not hungry, I'm bored/anxious/whatever, then I redirect to an activity that gets my mind and/or body off the comfort-food focus. Depending on the craving and the reason, I may meditate to calm myself, or take a 5-minute yoga break, or go for a walk, do some weeding/chores, take a bath, masturbate, or take a time-out to touch base with what is really going on inside me (ie administer some emotional first aid).
Relent: Relent, for me, comes after multiple attempts to redirect. If I've eaten my healthy mandarin and I've done my chores and I've finished writing an email or whatever other tasks I've put to myself to in order to get my mind off the craving and I still want that cake (especially if I've craved it for a few days), I'll go buy a single-serving cupcake or something, both as acceptance of the craving, and as reward for the work I've done to earn it. If I absolutely have to have a slice of that $20 death-by-chocolate cake and they don't sell it by the slice, I'll buy it at the bakery, ask them to slice me a piece, and then give the rest away to the people working there, or as samples for their customers. (Yes, it raises eyebrows, but no one has refused me yet.) Then I relish my $20 piece of cake, eating it slowly, savoring every bite. I don't bring home more than one serving of a craved food anymore. It's too easy to say to myself, "Oh, I'll bring this whole cake home and share it with my family" and then end up eating more than one serving because I don't want it to go to waste or because it is just that good.
I suppose I should have the self-discipline to be able to eat just one serving of something I crave and leave the rest alone for others or for another time, but I don't. And I am self-aware enough to accept that. I'm also self-loving enough to get over the whole self-sabotage / self-punishing thing for my supposed lack of will-power, no longer hating myself even as I am rewarding myself with a tasty treat. Today, I allow myself to eat that thing I really want, but just one small serving. And I give away or toss away the rest. I may feel a little foolish for eating what amounts to a $20 slice of cake -but- I figure that it's $18 worth of extra calories I'm not adding to my waistline, and given the work I have to do to take off just one pound, it's f-ing worth it.
So--this is how I've learned to deal with food cravings over the years, and how I'm managing not to gain weight during my pregnancy. I practice self-awareness and self-acceptance, a bit of self-discipline, and a lot of self-love. I'm as flawed, outrageous, and complex as the next person, and what works for me may not work for others. Still, it's worth sharing if even just one person benefits from it.
One, when we taste something sweet, our bodies begin to produce insulin, the hormone that helps the body to absorb sugars (glucose) and fats. When the anticipated glucose does not appear, the insulin continues to cycle through our bloodstream, stimulating the synthesis of fats and glycogen. This causes the body to stockpile fats and can also cause low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) because the insulin is acting on the sources of sugar that were pre-existing in the blood, rather than on new sugars entering via the digestive system. Excess insulin can also cause insulin resistance (pre-cursor to Type 2 Diabetes) and metabolic syndrome. It also appears to be tied to or may amplify the endocrine disorder PCOS (poly-cystic ovary syndrome), because whatever insulin doesn't dock with your cells is cleared out of your system by your liver and kidneys, and when scavenged by the liver, may be re-synthesized into the excess androgens, testosterone, and estrogen characteristic of PCOS.
Two, as artificially-synthesized sweeteners are metabolized by the body, they produce by-products that can negatively impact your health. We know, for example, that saccharine can cause cancer, but most people do not know that aspartame (NutraSweet) is broken down into amino acids, methanol, formaldehyde, and formic acid, all of which can be harmful to people depending on the amount ingested and their individual sensitivities to them. Aspartame aggravates phenylketonuria, is thought to aggravate mood disorders due to possible effects on neurotransmitters, and produces side effects like headaches. Read the Aspartame Controversy for more information, and read up on the next-generation of aspartame, called Neotame here. Sucralose (Splenda) while perhaps less alarming and more natural seeming with its "made from sugar" advertising, is still potentially harmful. It is basically chlorinated sugar, and chlorine isn't good for you (think bleach). Sucralose has been shown to reduce pH in the bowels and thus the beneficial bacteria existing there, and impact levels of P-glycoprotein which is an important transporter protein for ATP and other compounds used by the brain, adrenal glands, and intestines.
Three, using artificial sweeteners as a tool for weight-reduction is an epic failure. They do exactly the opposite of what we're told to expect. There are many, many studies out there which demonstrate that people who use sugar substitutes actually gain more weight than people who stick with sugar. Why? There are several schools of thought on this. The most plausible is that because artificial sweeteners are sweeter than sugar, people routinely ingesting the uber-sweetness become used to it, so that when they do eat sugar-sweetened things, they eat more sugary stuff to satisfy that sweetness-craving. Another likely possibility is that sweet-taste-to-insulin-production link I mentioned above. More insulin in the body equals more fat uptake and more sugar uptake. An increase in sugar uptake results in low-blood sugar, which means people eat more sugar or sugar substitute to get rid of that shaky feeling. Which leads to yet another reason why artificial sweeteners lead to weight gain: because the body needs sugar and if it doesn't get it, it keeps prompting us to eat until it gets what it needs. And finally, sweeteners, like salt and MSG, are flavor-enhancers that stimulate people's food-enjoyment and this encourages them to eat more. So basically, however you look at it, people are eating excess calories because they are trying to reduce excess calories through low-calorie sugar-substitutes. It works on livestock. Lots of artificial sweeteners are being added to cattle-feed because they are known to fatten the animals up (The link goes to a .pdf article from 2000 by a German company). Really. It sounds pretty bizarre, but it also makes sense, doesn't it?
I've made the above information as un-wonky as I possibly can. I'm fortunate to have a background in biochemistry and genetics, so I understand the technical-jargon and try to translate it into common-speech.
The content in my previous post that prompted his query was:
I've also got the weight-maintenance tools I've picked up the past few years. I've learned how to handle cravings, for example. I know when to re-direct and when to relent. I know when to stop indulging (most of the time) and I know when to get rid of something tasty because I can't resist the temptation to keep indulging.
Redirect: This strategy starts with a question: Am I really hungry, or am I bored/nervous/upset? If the answer is yes, I really am hungry, then I try to redirect focus from the death-by-chocolate cake I am craving to a protein or granola bar or a piece of fresh fruit--ie, to something healthier that tastes good, too. If the answer is no, I'm not hungry, I'm bored/anxious/whatever, then I redirect to an activity that gets my mind and/or body off the comfort-food focus. Depending on the craving and the reason, I may meditate to calm myself, or take a 5-minute yoga break, or go for a walk, do some weeding/chores, take a bath, masturbate, or take a time-out to touch base with what is really going on inside me (ie administer some emotional first aid).
Relent: Relent, for me, comes after multiple attempts to redirect. If I've eaten my healthy mandarin and I've done my chores and I've finished writing an email or whatever other tasks I've put to myself to in order to get my mind off the craving and I still want that cake (especially if I've craved it for a few days), I'll go buy a single-serving cupcake or something, both as acceptance of the craving, and as reward for the work I've done to earn it. If I absolutely have to have a slice of that $20 death-by-chocolate cake and they don't sell it by the slice, I'll buy it at the bakery, ask them to slice me a piece, and then give the rest away to the people working there, or as samples for their customers. (Yes, it raises eyebrows, but no one has refused me yet.) Then I relish my $20 piece of cake, eating it slowly, savoring every bite. I don't bring home more than one serving of a craved food anymore. It's too easy to say to myself, "Oh, I'll bring this whole cake home and share it with my family" and then end up eating more than one serving because I don't want it to go to waste or because it is just that good.
I suppose I should have the self-discipline to be able to eat just one serving of something I crave and leave the rest alone for others or for another time, but I don't. And I am self-aware enough to accept that. I'm also self-loving enough to get over the whole self-sabotage / self-punishing thing for my supposed lack of will-power, no longer hating myself even as I am rewarding myself with a tasty treat. Today, I allow myself to eat that thing I really want, but just one small serving. And I give away or toss away the rest. I may feel a little foolish for eating what amounts to a $20 slice of cake -but- I figure that it's $18 worth of extra calories I'm not adding to my waistline, and given the work I have to do to take off just one pound, it's f-ing worth it.
So--this is how I've learned to deal with food cravings over the years, and how I'm managing not to gain weight during my pregnancy. I practice self-awareness and self-acceptance, a bit of self-discipline, and a lot of self-love. I'm as flawed, outrageous, and complex as the next person, and what works for me may not work for others. Still, it's worth sharing if even just one person benefits from it.
Artificial Sweeteners, and why you might want to reconsider using them:
I do not use diet products with artificial sweeteners, even natural substitutes like stevia, for three reasons.One, when we taste something sweet, our bodies begin to produce insulin, the hormone that helps the body to absorb sugars (glucose) and fats. When the anticipated glucose does not appear, the insulin continues to cycle through our bloodstream, stimulating the synthesis of fats and glycogen. This causes the body to stockpile fats and can also cause low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) because the insulin is acting on the sources of sugar that were pre-existing in the blood, rather than on new sugars entering via the digestive system. Excess insulin can also cause insulin resistance (pre-cursor to Type 2 Diabetes) and metabolic syndrome. It also appears to be tied to or may amplify the endocrine disorder PCOS (poly-cystic ovary syndrome), because whatever insulin doesn't dock with your cells is cleared out of your system by your liver and kidneys, and when scavenged by the liver, may be re-synthesized into the excess androgens, testosterone, and estrogen characteristic of PCOS.
Two, as artificially-synthesized sweeteners are metabolized by the body, they produce by-products that can negatively impact your health. We know, for example, that saccharine can cause cancer, but most people do not know that aspartame (NutraSweet) is broken down into amino acids, methanol, formaldehyde, and formic acid, all of which can be harmful to people depending on the amount ingested and their individual sensitivities to them. Aspartame aggravates phenylketonuria, is thought to aggravate mood disorders due to possible effects on neurotransmitters, and produces side effects like headaches. Read the Aspartame Controversy for more information, and read up on the next-generation of aspartame, called Neotame here. Sucralose (Splenda) while perhaps less alarming and more natural seeming with its "made from sugar" advertising, is still potentially harmful. It is basically chlorinated sugar, and chlorine isn't good for you (think bleach). Sucralose has been shown to reduce pH in the bowels and thus the beneficial bacteria existing there, and impact levels of P-glycoprotein which is an important transporter protein for ATP and other compounds used by the brain, adrenal glands, and intestines.
Three, using artificial sweeteners as a tool for weight-reduction is an epic failure. They do exactly the opposite of what we're told to expect. There are many, many studies out there which demonstrate that people who use sugar substitutes actually gain more weight than people who stick with sugar. Why? There are several schools of thought on this. The most plausible is that because artificial sweeteners are sweeter than sugar, people routinely ingesting the uber-sweetness become used to it, so that when they do eat sugar-sweetened things, they eat more sugary stuff to satisfy that sweetness-craving. Another likely possibility is that sweet-taste-to-insulin-production link I mentioned above. More insulin in the body equals more fat uptake and more sugar uptake. An increase in sugar uptake results in low-blood sugar, which means people eat more sugar or sugar substitute to get rid of that shaky feeling. Which leads to yet another reason why artificial sweeteners lead to weight gain: because the body needs sugar and if it doesn't get it, it keeps prompting us to eat until it gets what it needs. And finally, sweeteners, like salt and MSG, are flavor-enhancers that stimulate people's food-enjoyment and this encourages them to eat more. So basically, however you look at it, people are eating excess calories because they are trying to reduce excess calories through low-calorie sugar-substitutes. It works on livestock. Lots of artificial sweeteners are being added to cattle-feed because they are known to fatten the animals up (The link goes to a .pdf article from 2000 by a German company). Really. It sounds pretty bizarre, but it also makes sense, doesn't it?
I've made the above information as un-wonky as I possibly can. I'm fortunate to have a background in biochemistry and genetics, so I understand the technical-jargon and try to translate it into common-speech.
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