Microblog Monday: my ovaries

My brain knows I don’t want more kids but there must be a disconnect between my head and my ovaries because they are ACHING! Every pregnant belly or new baby I see sends me over the edge. If getting pregnant wasn’t an obstacle course, I’d be pregnant already (or at least would have tried). Why oh why can’t I stop? I love being pregnant, I love giving birth and I love the first few days of squish. I need to figure out how to turn my reproductive system off!


32 weeks pregnant


moments after delivering Dylan


fresh baby Carter



I can’t believe I’m sharing this…

I’ve had ridiculously oily hair for the past couple months.  This has never been an issue for me and I’ve always washed my hair every other day for the most part.  I was waking up, showering, washing my hair, going to work and by noon my hair was incredibly greasy at the roots and dry and frizzy else where.  It was driving me mental.  

At first I thought it was my shampoo.  I switched to paraban free shampoo about 9 months ago, with no issues of course, but I started to think that it just wasn’t cutting it for some reason.  I tried switching it up, first with another paraban free shampoo and then reaching for some paraban filled crap.  Nothing helped the problem.

I decided to consult my advisor (google) and found out that oily hair can be quite common in pregnancy.  I either didn’t face this the first time around or didn’t notice because my hair was short and I was probably using product in it.  I frantically searched for options of how to deal with this.  One option suggested a paste made of shampoo and baking soda but my brain before my 6:30am shower couldn’t handle the process of this.  The other suggestion was dawn dish soap.  My instinct told me it was a bad idea but my laziness realized this took no work.

I decided for a compromise of mixing dawn dish soap with shampoo.  I washed my hair and now here we are 3 days later and my hair is not at all oily.  In fact, it is the nicest its been in a long time.  I considered washing it this morning but I wanted to see how long this could last.  I will probably wash it tomorrow regardless though.

I’m shocked, and pretty embarrassed about using dish soap in my hair.  I’m sure hair people could tell me what a bad idea it is but the truth is, I don’t have it in me to care.  I’m happy to have hair that isn’t gross immediately after washing it.

5 Months


5 Months Pregnant

Hitting the 5 month point is pretty exciting.  It’s ridiculous that it is not until now that I really feel okay telling people I’m pregnant and being open about it.  We went ahead and made the obligatory FB post when we found out it was a girl and for a lot of people that was the first they heard about there being another baby started in my belly.

She is amazingly active and constantly reminding me she is there.  I feel like Carter has noticed my belly has gotten bigger as he is constantly touching it.  I got into the habit of just saying there was a baby in there every time he did and every time he would lift my shirt to rest his head on my stomach.  This has resulted in Carter’s response to the question “Where is the baby?” to be him lifting his own shirt and showing his belly.  We might be messing up anatomy lessons here but I find it hilarious and completely adorable.  Last night as I was putting him to bed he kept patting my stomach and saying “baby, baby, baby”.

I feel awesome right now.  I’m in the amazing window of energy during pregnancy and have been staying up later and hanging out with my wife and watching movies and doing things.  It is so nice after so many months of pure exhaustion.

My weight gain caught up finally and the running total is 10lb gain so far.  I want to eat all the time.

I have heartburn constantly.  I can handle this.

With Carter I had rough Pelvic Girdle Pain from about 32 weeks.  When I gave birth I tore the cartilage in my pelvis and was in extreme pain for weeks.  I was unable to move or get out of bed for a full week.  The moment I got pregnant this time I started having pelvic pain, I went in to see my phsyio therapist and my pelvis had rotated.  After adjustments I was doing alright until the past 4 weeks.  The pain is mostly noticeable at night.  By Friday night I had to brace myself to rotate from one side to another or before pulling myself out of bed.  It’s way too early to be this uncomfortable.  Luckily I had Physio on Saturday morning.  She said my pelvis wasn’t rotated, the girdle was just locked at the pubic symphysis.  There is very little that can be done other than to try to release it.  Over an hour of manipulation and a good taping and I felt a bit better but it was still locked.  Lying on the couch that night I went to reposition myself and “pop”.  It was immediate relief.  Right now I’m riding on a cloud but petrified it will lock up again.  I’m continuing all my exercises and trying to strengthen surrounding muscles.  Hopefully this helps.


1 month vs. 5 months

How quickly we forget.

I’ve always had body issues.  I have been a giant since I can remember and was very overweight as a child.  I was enrolled in dance classes from a very young age and it was always very clear to me that I did not have a dancer’s body.  When I was six years old a girl in my tap class told me I should “learn to be skinny.”  My mom told me it was just because I was tall, but I knew that wasn’t true.

I have a very vivid memory from the summer before 4th grade.  I was imagining what I would wear to my first day of school (a jean skirt with a hooded long-sleeved t-shirt that I was so excited to get) and I realized I was imagining myself as a much smaller person than I was.  This was the first time I can remember hating my body and wanting to do something about it.

I was a chronic over eater and then struggled with anorexia and bulimia for over 10 years.  I have never liked my body.  I’ve hated my inability to find clothes that fit properly no matter what size I am and the fact that even if I get my weight down to a point where I am emaciated, it would still be a much higher number then most people ever need to see on the scale.  I hate when people “are surprised” by what size I wear, I don’t see it as a compliment.  It feels like a reminder that I will never be an average body type.

When I was pregnant I was careful to make sure I didn’t balloon up but I did not exercise. I knew that I should be active but I was just too exhausted to do much.  I walked for miles a day with my dog but that was the extent of it.   When I first got pregnant I told myself that I couldn’t go over 200lbs, this meant I could gain up to 23lbs.  Very reasonable.  The day I hit 200lbs I was heartbroken and told myself I was going to stop weighing myself (I have weighed myself every morning since I was 13).  I did not stop weighing myself.  I was 208lbs the morning before Cater was born.  I was was 188 the morning after.

188 is not a number I’m comfortable with and I would have thought that I would be itching to lose weight but the truth is the right after birth is the most comfortable I can ever remember feeling with my body.  I was so overwhelmed with pride in the accomplishments of my body that I saw nothing but beauty.  While I had originally been incredibly nervous about being naked during the birth and then exposed during skin to skin time and breast feeding after, I was overly content.  I wanted to brag about how awesome my body was and all the things it was capable of.  I stood in front of a full length mirror amazed by the strength and flexibility my body had demonstrated.  I didn’t care how many calories I consumed and I wasn’t nervous about my inability to move around much.  My body was perfect.

These feelings faded slowly and I didn’t lose the baby weight.  I wasn’t eating well, I had little time, desire or energy to exercise and I even gained a bit of weight postpartum.  I had wanted to be back to my old size by three-months postpartum.  I don’t know where this decision had come from but when Carter turned three-months and I wasn’t even back at the 188 number I became a bit miserable.  I started feeling insecure all over again.  My pride drifted into embarrassment that I had no self-control and no motivation.  I decided I would try to cut myself a break and it would all be okay as long as I was back to normal by the time I went back to work at 7.5 months so I could wear my old work clothes.

September 3rd came too quickly and I had made no progress.  I returned to work with no work clothes and a lot of shame.  I’ve been back at work for almost two months now and I just hit the weight I was on the day I found out I was pregnant.  I’m thrilled, don’t get me wrong, but my clothes still don’t fit.  My body is not the same.  I felt myself becoming so angry and then in a moment of clarity, I remembered what my body did.  I remembered that I grew the greatest little thing inside of me and then I managed to push him out.  How had I let myself forget my pride in my body? Why had I let that drift away?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot the past few days and it all came together this morning when I read Jenn’s post.

A woman’s body should not be measured by it’s size, it should not be assessed by way clothes fit.  The human body is an incredible thing with unbelievable capacity.  This is not to say that women who can’t/chose not to have babies (or men) should value their body based on this but rather we all need to acknowledge what is truly amazing about ourselves and the way our body adapts.

I want to walk away from this saying that I can be fully comfortable in my body but I know it is still a work in progress.  I’m happy to have gone through such a life changing event that put things into perspective; I just want to make sure I don’t let myself forget again.