Food, Fat, and Pregnancy

I recently listened to a podcast where they discussed the growing issue of pregnant women who suffer eating disorders during their pregnancy. Almost 20% of pregnant women will suffer from some form of anorexia or bulimia while pregnant. Most experts feel that this growing phenomenon is a result of the "Hollywood Pregnancy", where a movie star gives birth and than discusses how they only gained five pounds for their entire pregnancy. I don't doubt that this is a factor, but as a pregnant woman I have had all sorts of people come out to warn me about gaining weight and getting fat. I willingly acknowledge that 99.9% of those who have spoken to me about weight are doing it from a place of love and desire to help me be healthy. However, what I often hear in my head it "don't eat to much fatty".

Based on discussions with other pregnant women, and my obgyn, I know I am not the only one who stresses about weight and food and weight gain. I recently had a pregnant friend tell me they are freaking out about gaining too much weight and yet are so exhausted they can't seem to workout. This woman is clearly not alone, everyone feels that way.

My personal struggle revolves around the fact that I worked to lose weight in 2011 and it was this weight loss that led to me being pregnant. I have huge fears about gaining back all the weight and more. My first trimester it was impossible to find the energy to workout. All I wanted to do was sleep and the rest of the time I was nauseous. Now I have more energy and have done some workouts, but am still struggling with taking rests and not going full bore.

It feels completely insane to worry about getting fat while pregnant.  My husband constantly points out the insanity of this entire conversation. However, somewhere in this growing issue is the fine line between a healthy awareness of what you are putting in your body, and an unhealthy obsession with calories. I do think this is the time to eat the most healthy unprocessed foods that I can. For the first time in my life, I am aware of my Omega 3 and Iron consumption. I am leaving soy milk and returning to hormone free cow's milk (hardest change of all). I want to eat as healthy as possible, because I want my child to be as healthy as possible.

Healthy is the mantra I keep chanting to myself. I feel like if I eat healthy and stay comfortably active than I won't have to worry about weight. The scale still looms out there. I don't suffer from an eating disorder, but I understand how other pregnant women could tip toe toward that line. Most pregnancy sites or books discuss weight gain right of the bat. A lot of them do it with a sly "don't be a fatty".

Wouldn't it be nice if we celebrated all women, pregnant or not, by their level of health and not by the size of their jeans? I would love it if I went 24 hours without hearing a friend, colleague, or student discuss how fat they are, but instead spoke about how great they feel. Healthy choices didn't make me a size 0. What they did do was help me manage my anxiety, have more energy, and feel better about myself. I want to spend the next 4 and a half months feeling healthy and happy and not worrying about the number on the scale.

For Unto Us...

I have spent a lot of time thinking about Mary this holiday season. I think anyone who is pregnant at Christmas can't help but think of her. When I stop to consider that she was the age of my students and faced with a huge wall of rejection and shame, at a time when she was most vulnerable, she becomes more human to me. Mary has never been someone who stood out to me. She seemed meek, but she asked to do one of the most difficult things anyone has ever been asked to do. As a young Hebrew woman, she risked everything to be the mother of Christ. In a society where she had few resources, faced certain isolation and rejection, she took a step forward in faith and agreed to be a part of a miracle that we still don't understand today.

I wish I knew where Mary stumbled. What did she obsess over? Did she cry over her potential loss of Joseph? Did she worry if it all would work out? When she felt a strange pain or discomfort, did she wonder if her baby would be safe and delivered healthy? This was a time when almost 50% of women died while giving birth. Did she wonder if she would live to see her child? Were their moments when she regretted her faith? I think she must of struggled, she was human, but despite her struggles she kept moving forward.

When I think of Mary, I think of Sara. There is a stark difference between Sara and Mary. God blessed Sara and Abraham with Isaac, despite Sara's lack of faith. He blessed the world because of Mary's abundance of faith.  I am more of a Sara than a Mary. I was recently involved in an conversation with someone who reads my blog and they commented on how by giving up my desire, I was given my desire. I don't think it is as simple as that.

Over a period of years, I was forced to break down and give up little pieces of myself to God. I am still doing it. I clutch to my job and my marriage unwilling to let go and let God. My journey through infertility was my way back to God who never left me. He was always powerful and always miraculous, but I wasn't always willing to see that. Like Sara I put God in a box. He wouldn't love me, He couldn't forgive me, and I was on my own. My first step in letting go of my box led to other steps and slowly I saw that God was much bigger than my simple definition.

However, even while I grew I kept the box open. When the doctors felt like pregnancy wasn't an option and we had gone as far as we agreed to go in fertility treatments, I decided that pregnancy was impossible for me. In my prayers, I would ask God for his plan, but I was still pushing my plan. There were several times before Ashley came that I felt something was wrong, but I pushed the feeling away and pushed forward. When she came, there were moments that clear signs that God's plan was not for her to be part of our family, but I glossed over them and pushed forward. Honestly, if I wasn't pregnant, I am not sure that would have stopped pushing to make it work. Even when we first found out, I was still trying to work it out. At no point in the time that Ashley was here did I ask God for his plan.

I would pray, but I would avoid the "thy will be done" part. In my heart of hearts, I knew what God's will was and I didn't want to hear it. I put God in a box. This box said that only we could love Ashley and that God wasn't big enough to keep her safe, heal her, and provide us with a family. It seems sad and stupid now, but I held onto that box with all my heart. I was still holding onto pieces of it until a few days ago.

One summer, I was attending a chapel service at JH Ranch. The camp had chapel in a big tent that had a view of the Siskiyous. Sitting in a small prayer group, I had a moment where I looked up and saw that mountains covered in thousands of lightening strikes. It was a powerful, visceral and stunning picture of a God who can't be put in a box. For the first time, I realized that God was bigger than I thought. That was my last summer camp and it would take 16 years for me to think about that night again, but the memory was as powerful as the experience. I am loved by a great, wonderful, fearful, and awesome God. Not only has he planned the life growing in me, but he controls the very elements that surround me. Who am I to box that up?

Mary may have had a box, but she fought past it. Sara's box was ripped apart. Mine is slowly is being torn apart. I stumble and get stuck. I have millions of foibles and anxieties and yet each day I am being pushed to change. Each day I am pushed forward in faith, and each day I try not to resist.

Well, now, I am not sure what to say...

I have woefully ignored my blog the past few months. All I can say is that this Fall has been intense. I feel as if I just got off a crazy rollercoaster and can finally sleep. On the plus side, finally having time to slow down has given us a chance to revel in some baby joy. A friend recently asked me what pregnancy felt like, I told her I felt gassy. Not the most poetic of answers, but honest and true.

It also feels a bit as if I don't control my body and everyday is a little adventure. Oh, I never liked spicy food before, those pants don't fit, dark chocolate is suddenly gross,  I woke up with a new body shape, why am I crying at this picture of my neice and on and on. It is pretty wonderful and scary and thrilling all in one.

I have noticed that people will say anything to you once they know you are pregnant. "I miscarried three times before I had my child". "My labor involved me ripping open". "All your baby needs is your breast and your love". The last statement was uttered by a woman patting me down at PDX. She used the time that she was feeling me up for bombs, to explain the glory of her home birthing expirences and to challenge me not to "genderfy" my child. This is why Oregon is awesome people, you can't get that kind of airport security conversation just anywhere.

I am amazed at how freely people share their opinions about childbirth (home or hospital) drugs (evil or wonderful) finding out the gender (destroying nature or practical) and life post baby (a term spent in hell or a glorious awakening of womanhood).  I just wouldn't tell another person what to do with their body and their child. It isn't any of my business.

People I barely know have asked me about what type of birth I am going to have. I don't really want to discuss my birthing expierence with everyone. That seems private. The other day, a woman explained to me that if I didn't stay  home, my child would resent me for life. This seemed appalling. My Mom didn't stay home, my sisters and I are fine. Another person told me not to lose my career in being a Mom as "so many woman your age seem to"

Really? Wasn't the point of fighting for woman to have choices about just that? Choices! Whether or not someone stays home or goes to work seems to be a highly personal choice that each couple must consider. If my husband stays home and I work, or if we both work, or if I stay home. It is all up to us, and I am thankful to have so many options.

Don't get me wrong, I am happy to have people excited for me and interested in our lives, but sometimes that interest can cross a line. Is it because we live in such an open age? Or because people aren't taught basic manners? The expierence is teaching me to think before speaking and ask if it really is any of my business?

No day but today

Do you ever feel as if you got it all together and planned out and then suddenly you are reminded that you don't control anything and it may not be worth planning? This would describe the fall for me. I keep thinking that I have it under control, that I know where I am going with work, life, home, etc and then boom, there is change. Tonight at church, I realized that a major lesson is being pounded into my stubborn head. God keeps saying, "let go and let me be in control" and I keep clutching at straws.

I am not implying that making plans is bad. To the contrary, it is the responsible thing to do. However, I tend to want to carve my plans into stone and that is not good. Being open to what God can bless you with is an amazing place to be. Me being pregnant is  a total and complete miracle. It throws all of my plans out of whack, it threw the plans I thought I had out whack, and yet I have never been so happy about having so little control.

At the moment, it often feels as if I don't even control my body. It is as if my very being has ceded control to this growing miracle. I like food I never liked before, I cry at things I never cried at, I want to sleep more, and on Wednesday I woke up with a totally different body shape. However, all of it feels like an amazing adventure. I will happy cede control if the end result is a healthy and happy baby.

This past week I was in Fresno for a training. I was the only classroom teacher in the room. Everyone else was curriculum director for their state, in charge of literacy for their large urban district,  and overall much more qualified, experienced and generally older than I am. It was beyond intimidating. I felt overwhelmed and out place. I had no idea why my district would send me or how I could possibly make it work, but I did. In fact, I held my own,  I had to work harder than I have since Dr. Sil's Philosophy of History class, but I held my own and received a certification. I also found a new mentor in the trainer, a woman who is at the top of curriculum and instruction field in the country. I left Fresno feeling like I have more options in my career than I ever thought possible.

I can rigidly grasp at my plan, but the past few months have shown me that I really should focus on today. I can think I know what is going to happen, but I need to remind myself that God's plan will always super cede mine. The past few months have been some of the most emotionally trying of my life, and yet my marriage is stronger, my faith is deeper, and our baby is on it's way. I am living proof of the power of Jeremiah 29:11. I am being prospered in spite of myself, not because of myself,  and I so thankful for the powerful love that has honored me with such undeserved blessing.

A moment

It isn't very often that I stop to think about how much good is happening in my life, and I am thankful that yesterday was a moment to stop and remind myself that there is a lot of good going on. Yesterday, my Mom was thankful that all of her children, and grandchildren, had jobs. In a way this is almost a sad thing to thankful for, but it is a true reflection of the times. Justin and I both have good jobs that have good benefits and some security.  The sheer fact that I get to teach is a plus. There are folks who went through my program that didn't ever find that teaching job, and they were better teachers than I am. In this current economy, I have encountered so many people who are literally hanging on by a thread, and yet politicians on both sides of the aisle continue to bicker over idiotic details in order to pander to their extreme right or left wing pundits.

The current economic climate has led to a political climate that I find exhausting, poisonous, and disturbing. As someone who makes a living teaching 14 year olds about how our government works and what it means to be a citizen, I am often embarrassed by what the adults demonstrate as citizenship to them. Have we really become a country that is unable to enter into a respectful political debate that is based on fact on mannerly discourse? Are we really to going to villanize those who vote the opposite of us? Or determine that because someone has a different belief system from ours that they are uneducated or too educated?

In light of the holiday season, can we just take a moment and recognize that we are all people who are deserving of common courtesy and respect? Can we refuse support those who thrive on creating a negative debate based on half truths and character slanders? Can we enter into honest discussions about issues that effect us all? May I suggest that each person who is planning on voting, take a minute and read the Constitution?

Understanding the powers of each branch, the five purposes of government, and what the Constitution actually says is key to being an informed citizen. It makes spotting propaganda much easier. Speaking of propaganda, can we turn off the major news sources? Can we refuse to listen to those who make a living by sensationalizing mundane facts? With the spirit of the holiday season, which is sure to be followed by an obnoxious and overbearing Presidential race, find someone who you know has the opposite political beliefs as you do and offer to listen. Really listen, ask them to really listen to you. Look for what you have in common. You both want the regular guy to be supported, you are both concerned about the power of corporations, maybe you have different solutions, but you aren't that different.

I am not asking for a dyed in the wool dem to become a tea party member or vice versa, but I am asking for us to collectively refuse to buy into this idea that because we vote differently we must be enemies. I want my students, and my future child, to grow up in country where we elect officials because we truly understand what they stand for and who they are. I want those who are fear mongers and hate spreaders to suddenly become unpopular. I want common citizens to have honest discussions about what their communities need and hold their reps responsible for it. When we are busy yelling at one another, it becomes so much easier for them to not serve the people. Please, let's reclaim our country by reclaiming our sanity.

Wrestling with the demon

Being a control freak,  I am obsessive about failure. How have I failed? How am I going to fail? What may make me fail? This is a big side effect of struggling with an anxiety disorder. In the past few years, I have improved at my failure freakouts. I have learned to calm down and let go, and not attach life or death stakes to each and every decision. The past few weeks I have backslid in my progress. A combination of hormones, extreme emotions, and an unusual situation have led me to question a lot.

I have been angry about the Ashley situation and felt as if God was toying with me.  It took me years to get to a place where I was peacful about not being able to have a baby and felt right about adoption. It felt as if just when I reached that point, I got pregnant. I am in no way unhappy about being pregnant, but I have struggled with the timing, and the consequences. I have spent the past week wrestling with a sense of anger, fear of failure, and anxiety over making all the wrong choices.

Today I came to place where I could let Ashley go. I just sort of laid it all out there. My anger, and fear and sense of betrayal. How I worried about her and hope beyond hope that her time with us was for the positive and not the negative. Next I laid out my fears about pregnancy and motherhood and messing up. Finally, I came home and discussed all of this with my husband.

He reminded me that we are going to be ok and that I have a tendency to freak out about things we are ok with. Since the moment I found out I was pregnant, I have been overwhelmed with worry about how we would find a place to live, where we should live, how I didn't want to move while pregnant, how no place would be as cozy as my condo. How I want one more summer to put the baby in the stroller and walk downtown, but I felt like the "grownup" thing to do was to run out and find a new place to live.  After a long chat with Justin, we have decided to stay in our condo and I am so happy about it. I love it here and I just wasn't ready to take on moving on top of everything else.

Justin also reminded  me that I had told him I would leave the decision to move up to him. I came to this decision, because I can let anxiety build up until I push both of us to do things that maybe aren't the most prudent financial moves. Living here longer is better for us financially and we both like it, so why am I freaking out?

I think when Ashley left, I was desperate to make a new start. To cleanse all of the emotion and stress away by moving out of it. (somewhere my sisters are shaking their heads) Creating more stress, doesn't help cleanse old stress. Since some quality prayer time, a long chat with Justin, and deciding to stay home. I just feel better.

Now I can focus on the holidays!

Reflections

It is hard to explain all the things that I have been thinking or feeling the past few days. The best word I can come up is "peace".  I have a great peace about the fact that DHS chose to move Ashley to a home that fit her family wish list. We knew that she would be moved, but we did expect a bit more than twenty-four hours notice. When our caseworker first called to say that she would be moved the next day, my first instinct was to say "no, let's wait. It is too much, too fast.", but just as fast as I thought that another voice told me to trust. I got off the phone, we broke the news to Ashley, who was actually excited, and both of us felt better. Thursday was stressful, I had to take the day off and get her packed, and she had obvious anxiety at the fact that she was moving. The day went by in a blur and somehow we were standing in parking garage, waving goodbye. It still feels weird that she isn't here. It is like we are missing something, but it feels peaceful.

This entire process has made me realize that not only do I not control what is going to happen, and has shown me the amazing support system that we have somehow stumbled into. The entire staff at Lyle was amazing to Ashley in her whole tenure their. Their friendly open support helped her to become more successful at school than she had ever been before. Thanks to Trenda, she finally liked PE. Terri Dodge was the "the first teacher who liked me", Terri Hethorn made her feel "cool to be Mexican" and she loved that Darcy Naughton would say hello to her whenever she went into the office. I can say that all these ladies and so many more, made it so easy to figure out how to a "mom" at school instead of a teacher. When I went to withdraw her, there was genuine sadness and gentle assurance. At the height of my stress, I had to call and leave a message for Ashley, Darcy was so calm on the phone that I instantly became calm too. What an amazing staff Lyle has.

Justin and I are both fortunate to work in buildings with very supportive staffs. There is something amazing about going to work with people who are genuinely interested in you as person and willing to pitch in and help you when you need it. Jared has carried me for the past month, not only do I owe him cookies, but I am very thankful to have a teaching partner who is caring and understanding.

We have amazing friends. I can't even list all the ways our friends have reached out to support us.All I can say is that we don't deserve to be blessed with so many people who are willing to listen, support, celebrate and cry with us.

Our families took this journey with us. There is no way to describe what they did for us or how they stepped up and helped us make decisions, pray for us, listen to us and generally just be there for us.
It will take awhile to process all of what I have felt in the past month, but today I am feeling thankful.