Tuesday, May 31, 2011

breast pumps and such

I'm a minimalist at heart. I hate clutter. I love simple spaces with a streamline look. It's overwhelming all the crap you can get your kid. Really, I could care less about about toys, it's about the car seat, the diapers, the BREAST PUMP, eww, the breast pump. I realize my baby can't go everywhere with me so you have to put that milk somewhere but it's just sooo unnatural to have some machine sucking fluid out of my boobs. I have friends that have used them and I hear the sucking/pumping noise and I think, "there's my future" followed by a cringe. I too will be in search of the nearest place of privacy to alleviate the pressure off of my rock-hard, fluid filled jugs. I am going to push a human out of a place that I don't ever push things out of, then it will followed by feeding another human with things that I have never thought of as a source of food.

I look at pics of my baby and see her amazing face and it's all so unreal to me. Some women, like my mom and Scott's mom never once questioned how things were going to work out. My mom knew from the beginning that she wanted to be a mom. Scott's mom was elated when she found out she was pregnant. They didn't even really get to see ultrasounds like we do now. I've seen our baby three times now and it's still not enough to prepare me for what's to come. Back then there weren't 70 different brands to choose from for car seats, diapers or breast pumps. Did they even have breast pumps? I'll have to ask :) I had a 70 year old client give me some advice about breast pumps. FOR REAL! She told me how handy they were and I could freeze the milk and whatever milk I didn't give my baby I could give to the premature babies. I replied, "so, what do you want to do with your hair today?" God bless her sweet heart for sharing with me about the fascinating world of breast pumps.

Oh and how do I find the happy medium of baby time, Scott time, me time, and all- three-of-us-together time with all this sharing of my body parts? That's a whole other blog right there :)

Ready or not here comes my baby and I know that it will all be okay but again, these are the things that I think about.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

I'm in a glass case of emotion

Our baby girl is getting bigger. She finds it nice and cozy up in my rib area. I'm only 5 foot tall so her womb suite is more like a cot in a janitor's closet. Movements from her are no longer petite little kicks, they are large human stretches and rolls. I feel for her, I really do but I have gone 27 years without another human living inside of me so to say the least, this does not feel natural. I know that it would be so much sweeter if I was all sappy about this but coming from a realist, if you ask me how I am these days I will tell you exactly how I am. Lately, I'm back to the beginning where people assume that I am excited. Must be that "prego glow" that I have all around me. Yes, I am absolutely thrilled to meet this itty bitty human Scott and I already love to pieces. When I answer the question "how much longer do you have?" I always hear the following, "that's exciting right?" My mind doesn't just jump to this adorable tiny human on the outside of me, my thoughts take me step by step and month by month straight to delivery. It stops right there with the thought of dilating, contractions, breathing, epidural or no epidural, who should be there, and how long will it take, will I be calm, will I freak out, will I video tape some of it, will Scott be freaked out? I know I can't prepare for everything but it doesn't stop me from thinking about it.

My position right now on childbirth is...drum roll please...I'm nervous. Yup, that's about it. It's a whole other world that many of my friends have experienced in different ways but the end result is all the same. I have been researching natural childbirth. I don't idolize women that have done natural childbirth and my opinion of woman that have used drugs during childbirth doesn't make me think any less of them. Either way, we, moms, will somehow get a human living inside of us to the outside world. The options to see my baby are really vast as well as somewhat unpredictable.

We (myself, Scott, and baby) have endured 7 1/2 months of a lot of physical and mental distress equally mixed with overwhelming joy and growth. That's just apart of life. So, back to the beginning..."exciting right?" I have a really hard time giving a simple response to a question that I feel is fully loaded with emotions and thoughts. I would love to just give you a sweet smile, cock my head to the side, give my tummy a rub, and say simply "yes" but as of right now, this is not the case. I think way to much about things to skip all the laboring part of life and jump right to the good stuff.

If I say that I am excited about all this it's probably because I chose the epidural :)

Wednesday, May 4, 2011


I started my career in cosmetology at age 17. I graduated a year early from high school because I knew exactly what my goals were in life. I wanted to be a cosmetologist, a beauty operator, beautician, hair stylist, hair technician, hair lady, cosmetologist, whatever you want to call it. I'm never offended by people giving me an outdated title or asking if I went to school for hair as I'm doing their hair. It seems like a completely foreign world to some people but for me it was a future.

The summer before I went to cosmo school I worked at a hospital cafeteria. A doctor came through and he asked me what college I decided to go to. I proudly told him I was going to school for cosmetology in the fall. He didn't hesitate for a single second before he replied, "so you aren't going to real college?" He was a jerk. Did it phase my decision? Absolutely not. I felt a calling so strong that no one could detour my future plans.

Immediately out of school I got a job. I made mistakes here and there that seemed devastating at the time. Once, after I botched a color on a guy he told my boss that he couldn't believe she would hire someone like me and asked if I even had my license. I was tempted to drop everything right there and head for a new goal in life. It's great bosses like the one I had back then that inspire others to live through their mistakes and learn. She had grace for me and it made me a better stylist. Ten years into my career and I still don't know all the tricks of the trade. I learn from my clients and my peers on a daily basis.

I think about my daughter's future a lot. I also think about my past. My mom and dad encouraged me to live out my dreams because those were dreams that God gave me and they said He would pave the way. It's a shame when I see parents force their own expectations of what their child's image should look like or what career path they choose in life. There have been too many times that I've seen parents make their children go to fours years of college because it's the proper thing to do. After all that time and investment their now, adult child, is still unhappy because they thought they would for sure find something to make them happy in what I like to call America's favorite pastime, college. I'm not dissing those who have gone to "real" college by any means. I am saying it's not a necessary life path like we are made to believe it is by the time we hit kindergarten. We go from happy, free children to serious students put in boxes by a system that leaves little room for children to grow into adults that love themselves just as they are.

Scott has attended college three times trying to find a proper title that he thought would define his future. He has worked in retail management, been in a band, been a phlebotomist, made websites, built a business that supports my dreams, currently a berry farmer, and possibly a stay at home dad in the future! We have found joy in all his job opportunities and when one ended another one came forth. He has taught me that a degree won't necessarily bring you joy and a salary doesn't mean stability. Our gifts and talents are easily stifled by putting ourselves in a box of titles. We live in America, land of the free! So why are so many people living for the weekend? Work shouldn't define us it should inspire us.

This one's dedicated to my parents who never put me in a box. Cheers to my husband who rocks a bunch of tattoos while talking with Ames professionals. Cheers to those who have tried to put a label on me because you have pushed me to see who I really am and my faith is deeper because of that.