Pregnancy is so magical, except when it isn't

Warning: If you haven't had a baby or are thinking of becoming pregnant again, this post may become your birth control. Proceed at your own risk.

Pregnancy. Beautiful, right? That glow. The wonder of new motherhood. Being several months postpartum, I look back to pregnancy as one of the most profound experiences ever.  But that's just the crazy speaking because I've had ample time now to forget the hell it raised inside my body.

I remember the steam spewing from my ears when seasoned moms said how "magical" pregnancy was. The only magic I experienced was violently exorcised into my work garbage can and on public transportation. If throwing up on it's own wasn't bad enough, my heartburn was so intense I seriously thought satan himself unleashed his fiery lair in my gut. That combo was so fun, nausea + heartburn, I had a perpetually burned throat from up-chucking pure acid.

My bed time was so early, babies were scoffing at me. That is, until the third trimester when sleeping becomes so uncomfortable you might as well throw away your fancy pregnancy pillows. It's an especially cruel design since you're gearing up to spend hours/ days pushing out a bowling ball from your special area to then endure weeks or months of the most intense sleep deprivation of your life.

I didn't have crazy mood swings, I just generally thought strangers were really annoying. Living in Chicago and taking CTA everywhere (which notoriously has characters riding it at all hours), I had so many vicious thoughts. If you didn't give me your seat, I wanted to punch you in the face. If you bumped into me while standing since that dude didn't give me his seat, I wanted to punch you in the face. If you were really loud while I was struggling to keep the contents in my stomach down (sans baby), I wanted to punch you in the face. If you had bad body odor or worse, smelled like Budweiser, I wanted to punch you in the face.

I never punched anyone, but I may or may not have fantasized about it.

There is that honeymoon stage around 20 weeks when most of your symptoms take a hiatus, you can choose to see baby at your mid-pregnancy ultrasound, you likely feel baby "improving her campsite" and your belly looks adorable. If you're in your first trimester, this will come soon enough and cherish that time. Because it doesn't last.

Once my daughter was full term at 37 weeks, I was ready to serve her an eviction notice. Your mind plays tricks on you. You'll think every wince of pain is imminent labor and simultaneously that you'll be pregnant FOREVER. And at 12 days overdue, I was so ready for her to GET OUT. Thank God women get so antsy to go into labor, otherwise they would likely freak out that a REAL LIVE HUMAN WAS COMING HOME WITH THEM.

Everything about pregnancy is weird. And incredible. And mamas feel all sorts of interesting feelings those 40 (or more) weeks.

So seasoned moms, stop making moms-to-be feel guilty for not thinking everything is as magical as you think you remember it. And moms-to-be, take a moment to appreciate the weirdness. Because your nausea is a reminder that your body is sustaining a life. And soon your baby will be on the outside keeping you awake instead of squished uncomfortably against your bladder.

...And just know you'll likely let out a little pee here or there after you give birth.

Postpartum Depression Diaries Part 2: I am not Charlie-Sheen-winning at motherhood

Last week I shared part 1 of a series of writings from a dark time in my life. Everyone around me seemed to be creating a beautiful life with their children and I was just trying to survive the day. Only in retrospect do I realize that my experience wasn't normal, it was mired by postpartum depression. Now that I can readily see the beauty in my life, it hurts me to read these words laced with anger and confusion. I hope it may help one person who's facing their own darkness.

If you are experiencing any symptoms of postpartum depression, seek help from your doctor. There is no shame in what you cannot control.

Sometimes parenting sucks. Sometimes I want to puke all over the Facebook status describing your perfect parenting day filled with the magical mundane.

You're peacefully wearing your baby as birds chirp outside your kitchen window and I'm being pinched and pushed and rejected for, oh I don't know, being in the bathroom without my child for 34 seconds.

You're taking your time to pick wildflowers with your little one on the walk to your enriching and educational activities and I'm just trying to run a single errand in the hour or so between cat naps that she's somewhat agreeable.

You're delighting in sharing a family bed with your little one and basking in all of the copious cuddles and I'm having a near panic attack because, well, my lovey doesn't want to self soothe or be comforted.

My new full time job is feeling like a terrible mom. Don't worry, she's fed, dry, warm, held, loved, played with, etc., but I always feel like I'm blindly navigating every aspect of parenting.

I am not Charlie-Sheen-winning. Or maybe this is the exact definition of Charlie-Sheen-winning.

photo credit: JuanLazy via photopin cc

I have my ideals, but I can't live up to them.

My husband and I were told in marriage counseling that we were overly idealistic about each other, but at least I have some sense of control of how our marriage goes. I have the power to be loving, respectful and understanding and my husband always responds in kind.

But when you throw in a new personality who is affected by a million different, silent things but cannot clearly communicate, I feel lost. Because what helped her yesterday aggravates her today and I don't have any magic answers.

I know you can sympathize more than your social media page attests. Let's face it, no one wants to be Charlie Sheen, but I feel lost and alone. I'm frantically looking for a flashlight some days because the darkness feels heavy. I'm wondering if I'll ever get the hang of it. I'm wondering if you now think I'm completely unfit to be a mom.

Postpartum Depression Diaries Part 1: When Parenthood Rubs You The Wrong Way

I thought I was a bad mom. I thought I wasn't cut out for motherhood. I thought I would never be the same. That last part turned out to be true, but not in the negative sense I first thought. I was never diagnosed with postpartum depression, but only because I never reached out for help. Only in hindsight, now that the inner chaos has calmed, do I realize how very dark my experience was as a new mom. Here's part one of a collection of writings I scribbled while in that dark place...tidied up so as to not scare anyone. 

If you are experiencing any symptoms of postpartum depression, seek help from your doctor. There is no shame in what you cannot control.

My husband is highly introspective and equally fascinated with my brain. So it's natural that he's pretty obsessed with personality tests. If you're like him, you know what I mean when I say I'm an ISFJ on the Meyers-Briggs and a super high S on the DISC profile. If you're not like him, it means that I strive for harmony.

In my adult life at least, I have been calm, cool, and collected. As soon as I was legal, I moved away from home and ended up halfway across the country. I love family, but I chose a fresh start and gloriously lived anonymously. I married young and found a partner that selflessly gives of himself every day. I have always made my bosses happy. And even when I was in a toxic work environment, my face never gave away the stress ulcer inside.

I used to think I was emotionally balanced. And then I became a parent.

My true self emerged the day I brought home my daughter, when harmony as I knew it ended...abruptly. Cue copious amounts of crying, screeching, screaming, and snarling...those sounds belonging to both baby and mama.

This was us about a month in. You get the picture.

Just a few days prior, I could come home from a crazy day at the office and unwind. Now, my haven, my slice of paradise had become her lair of fuss.

It's not that I mind being needed 24/7. I just feel unhinged when I can't satisfy those needs. Even well past the colic stage, I found myself stepping over my parenting paradigm line. Like yelling at her for not sleeping. Or feeling resentful that she made my husband into her daddy and now we have to share him.

This is not the mom I wanted to be.

I've thought about 978 times that I wasn't made for motherhood. Other women transition into the role with grace, but I've questioned whether I'll ever be myself again...or at least who I thought I was.

My thirst for harmony is never going away. It's intrinsically who I am. Parenthood has taught me that when my need for harmony goes unmet, the worst of me shows. And somehow I need to be ok that the worst of me has to be good enough for my daughter.

We're all going to fail our kids. I just never thought my failures would stem from my very personhood.

Loss and Motherhood

Years back I told my husband that I hoped pregnancy would come as a surprise to us–oh sweet, naïve me.

But at 4:00 A.M. that Saturday morning when I followed my gut (literally) and verified that something, or rather someone, other than last night's pizza was in my tummy, I didn't feel like destiny had kissed our lives. 

I felt a sense of loss.


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Just a week before I saw those double pink lines on a home pregnancy test, I finally came to a definitive decision that I didn't want to have children. Cue the irony.

In an instant, my priorities changed. I was forced to think beyond what was best for me and tune into what was best for this stranger growing inside me.

For 9 months, I worried about the changes this little one would bring. And I wasn't wrong. Change did come in big ways. My daughter didn't take a bottle, so going back to work, to a job I really liked, was out of the question. And even if she had been a champ with a bottle, I knew being away from my high needs baby would be a terrible decision for this low energy mama.

Baby was a nurse-o-holic from the very beginning, slowly graduating from nursing every 30-45 minutes to oh, an hour an a half by 3 months old. Mama was on call all hours of the day and night which meant me-time was non-existent.

What I feared most was what would change between my husband and me. After being spoiled with 5 years of blissful marriage, I worried what adding a third person would do to our rhythm.

For those first few months, we hardly spent one moment in peace or romance together. We felt miles apart without any tools to lead us back to each other. One of us always had our daughter with the other fleeing to gain their sanity back. And for the first time ever, I worried that we'd never get what we had back.

See, we obviously have chemistry...even in pointless selfies.

And to be honest, we haven't gotten it all back. But what I couldn't conceptualize was what I would gain when my daughter joined us at 9:56 A.M. that snowy morning. 

I gained a new soul mate.

She is a mix of me and him and a dash of everyone else. She's unique and delightful and curious and emotional and adorable.

I voluntarily love my husband. I choose him every day, but my love for my daughter is completely involuntary. This kind of love is nothing I've ever experienced before–more profound than I could ever hope to put into words.

Things weren't always rainbows and lollipops. My soul mate wailed for the first 4 months and nearly drove us to madness, but even in the hardest moments, I missed her. We were once one and though my body seemed to want to violently puke her up several times a day, we were as close as any two people could ever be.

Since that confusing morning when I learned of this stranger in my belly, I have grieved many losses. I'll never again be just me. And my husband and I will never be just us. We're our daughter's mama and papa. That's an identity we'll never shake, nor want to.

And every day it's like I'm teaching her how to gradually leave my nest. I can't bare to think of how profoundly I'll feel that loss when the day comes for her to fly away.

Punishment vs. Discipline: Why parents should teach rather than punish

Last week I tried to convince you that spanking isn't the answer. Corporal punishment has long been a cultural norm and it's not an easy thing to just stop, especially if you don't know what to replace it with. So what is the answer? The short answer is non-violent discipline. The long answer depends on what you want for your child.

When my husband and I were pregnant, we took Alfie Kohn's challenge and thought through long-term goals for our daughter. We came up with a respectable list of characteristics that we hope she'll embody someday: considerate, empathetic, fulfilled, curious, self-aware, confident, loving, able to receive love, and able to find rest.

I think our list describes an overall balanced and good person. But when it comes to children, society often defines good as quiet and obedient.

Think about the last time a stranger or friend complimented the goodness of your child. It probably sounded something like, "What a good girl...she hardly made a peep this whole plane ride!" These silent, or not so silent, cultural messages pressure parents to discipline for the short term (to produce an obedient child who doesn't inconvenience us) rather than the long term (to empower a child to build good character).

The question then is whether or not our parenting paradigm is consistent with our long term goals for our children.

I think about this all the time. Is my methodology of discipline going to help my daughter be considerate and confident? Will the way I responded to her display of big emotions help her to be self-aware and empathetic? Will my words of instruction empower her to be the best version of herself?

Although I don't believe there's such a thing as one-size-fits-all parenting, I'd argue that stripping the punitive punishment from our parenting paradigm is the best way to reach our long term goals.

It's easy to be reactive in the moment because punishment can be effective in the short term; but it's up to us as parents to take the long road, the hard road, and help our children become people with good character.

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What's wrong with punishment?

 

Punishment is a parent-imposed consequence intending to eliminate a behavior using pain (emotional or physical). It includes tactics such as spanking, yelling, and time-outs.

 

Since punishment is an unnatural consequence, children struggle to internalize the reasons to behave appropriately. The child's incentive to behave becomes avoiding punishment rather than inwardly desiring to do the right thing.

Punishment doesn't give children the tools to self-regulate and manage emotions; it often makes children feel shame and anger which leads them to act out more (and get punished more!). This parenting paradigm expects children to act like adults, but doesn't treat them like adults (I don't remember a time when my spouse gave me a time-out).

While learning opportunities are plentiful as we engage the world, punishment directs the focus on bad behavior instead of problem solving. Children may learn that misbehaving gets their parents attention because a lot of energy is placed in punishing and power struggles.

Punishment can undermine the bond between a parent and child as parents become the bearer of unpleasant experiences. I'm not insisting you must be your child's friend (though I don't find it a bad idea), but I am insisting that children learn best through positive experiences.

If punishment isn't the answer, what is?

American society has convinced us that the words "discipline" and "punishment" are interchangeable, but at it's core, "discipline" simply means "to teach."

A parent's role is guiding their children back to the path, rather than penalizing them for losing their way.  It's helping them see the natural consequences and empowering them to think outside of themselves. It's filling their tool boxes with life skills instead of leaving them to sort through big emotions alone.

photo credit: Kevin Conor Keller via photopin cc

A respectful and helpful form of guidance is positive discipline which seeks to set boundaries while practicing empathy and recognizing age appropriate behavior. Parents still have authority, but understand that children learn over time and will make mistakes. Positive discipline respects a child's feelings, questions, and willful initiative.

Positive discipline is characterized by maintaining a close connection with your child even when standing firm on boundaries and using empathy with every instance of correction.

 What does positive discipline look like?

Positive discipline hinges on the following 5 concepts from Jane Nelsen:

1. Is it kind and firm at the same time? (Respectful and encouraging)
2. Does it help children feel a sense of belonging and significance? (Connection)
3. Is it effective long-term? (Punishment works short term, but has negative long-term results.)
4. Does it teach valuable social and life skills for good character? (Respect, concern for others, problem-solving, accountability, contribution, cooperation) 
5. Does it invite children to discover how capable they are and to use their personal power in constructive ways?

Wondering what it looks like in real life? I honestly couldn't write it any better than this example so I'm not going to try.

It's not an easy road. It takes a lot of effort. It takes a lot of patience. It takes being ok with your child expressing big feelings. It takes allowing your child to be an "inconvenience."

I don't know about you, but I don't want my kid to behave because she fears some unnatural consequence. I want her to make the right choice because she understands how it affects her and those around her. And that kind of mature introspection develops best in a nurturing and respectful environment.


Do you want to know more about implementing positive discipline? Here are some great resources to help you on your journey:
http://www.ahaparenting.com/parenting-tools/discipline
http://www.positive-parents.org/
http://www.positiveparentingconnection.net/

Why spanking isn't the answer

"Although most Americans do not like to call it so, spanking is hitting and hitting is
violence. By using the euphemistic term spanking, parents feel justified in hitting
their children while not acknowledging that they are, in fact, hitting. We as a
society have agreed that hitting is not an effective or acceptable way for adults to
resolve their differences, so it should not be a surprise that hitting children, like
hitting adults, causes more problems than it solves. It is time to stop hitting our
children in the name of discipline." Elizabeth T. Gershoff

photo credit: HA! Designs - Artbyheather
via photopin cc

Many thoughtful (some surely not so thoughtful) parents continue to tout the need to keep the wooden paddle looming over little ones on the wall. But many are choosing non-violent options of discipline as the scientific consensus overwhelmingly concludes that spanking has negative affects on children. Since corporal punishment has been swirling in the news lately, I'm adding my two cents on why our home chooses gentle discipline. My words are biased, but they're fair and I hope if nothing else, you'll give spanking a second thought. 

Why we don't spank

Spanking is, condones, and perpetuates violence. It's funny (actually, it's quite sad) that the law prohibits an adult hitting another adult, but protects the parent who hits their child. In other words, hitting is violence against an adult, but productive against a child. No parent wants to admit they commit acts of violence in their own home, but we're mincing words when we say "spank." Even though culture has created a blasé term to mean hitting children, there's nothing passive about it. 

When parents spank, the "do as I say not as I do" mantra is at play because modeling physical force as a problem-solving method is a confusing and backwards message. Parents assume too much when they believe their young toddler can disassociate parental spanking from peer-to-peer aggression. Studies show that children who are repeatedly spanked are 50% more aggressive and more likely to continue the cycle of physical force on siblings, peers, and future partners. Even more frightening is the link between spanking and crime. 

Spanking undermines consent. In a world where sexual exploitation is normalized and the word "no" is powerless, the lesson of consent is invaluable for a child. This might seem extreme to my less crunchy readers, but when I must physically overcome my daughter (changing diapers and clothes, taking toys away, or sucking boogers out of her nose), I try to explain what I'm doing even though she isn't yet holding conversations. Because although I take responsibility for her, I do not own her. Empowering her to take charge of her body can only happen if I respect her in every way possible.

This means being gentle while tickling and reading her body language to see if she's enjoying it. This means not forcing her to be held by a stranger when she's scared and unsure. This means not risking her sense of self and ownership being damaged through hitting. It's irresponsible to let her internalize a silent message that her elders are allowed to touch her body for pleasure (tickling, hugs, cuddling, or, god forbid, sexual abuse) or pain (spanking, yanking, hitting, and abusing).

Spanking weakens attachment. A child instinctively looks to his caregiver(s) when developing a sense of self. As an infant, he cannot help but trust them most to fulfill his physical and emotional needs and begins to internalize his perception of how they feel towards him. But when his most trusted ally inflicts pain, he struggles to grow in closeness to them and loses trust in the goodness of the parents.

It's no surprise that almost all research studying the effects of spanking in the parent-child relationship report that relationships are harmed. Humans avoid pain as much as possible and little humans are no different. When parents are the bearer of pain (physical or emotional), it's understandable that the child doesn't want to be as close to them.

Even if you had a loving childhood, some of your most vivid memories are likely ones where you felt deeply ashamed, humiliated, or afraid. Choosing a more gentle form of discipline protects against needless traumatic events that could very well stay with your child for a lifetime.

Spanking hurts more than the skin. Many people think spanking is harmless. It merely stings the skin, right? The truth is children who are spanked have less grey matter in the brain which is linked to mental illness (depression and anxiety), substance abuse, and a lower IQ. Spanking is also associated with hostile attribution bias (the internalized belief that the world and the people in it are hostile towards them), anti-social behavior and less empathy for others. What a sad worldview for a little one to have.

This is why big name medical, psychological, and social organizations are advising parents not to spank. Thanks to Elizabeth T. Gershoff, here are a few: American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry (AACAP, 2012), the American Humane Association (2009), the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP, Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child & Family Health, 1998), the National Association of Pediatric Nurse Practitioners (NAPNAP, 2011), and the National Association of Social Workers (2012).


Myths of Spanking

Spanking is biblical. 4 proverbs are used to condone spanking as religious instruction and if you are looking for an in-depth study, check out my husband's post that concludes the bible doesn't endorse spanking.

The bible has been used to justify many things, like slavery. But as young parents who can hardly fathom owning another human being, we can easily understand that slavery was allowed within the context of biblical culture, not condoned. It's much harder to think outside the bounds of our own cultural norm and examine whether spanking is mandated by scripture, or a primitive concession. 

If we believe that the world was created by a higher being, then all truth is god's truth. If the bible doesn't mandate spanking and the scientific world has arrived at more than 90% consensus that spanking is damaging, shouldn't we as parents thoughtfully reconsider hitting our children?

Spanking works. Many pro-spanking parents say that it's the most effective form of discipline for their strong-willed/ bad/ troubled/ mean/ aggressive child. The irony is that children who are spanked are more likely to, "be defiant, demand immediate satisfaction of their wants and needs, become frustrated easily, have temper tantrums and lash out physically against other people or animals" (Time, "The Long-Term Effects of Spanking").

Spanking doesn't teach children the positive reasons to behave; it simply teaches them to avoid painful punishment. No wonder children misbehave when the threat of punishment is not imminent.

I was spanked and I turned out ok. That's like saying smoking 10 packs of cigarettes a day is harmless since you've never gotten lung cancer. And with hundreds of studies showing the serious dangers of spanking, consider that you truly can't know who you would have become if you weren't spanked. Maybe you'd have a higher IQ. Maybe you'd be able to trust more easily. Maybe you'd have less anxiety in every day life. I don't know and neither do you.

Parents want the best for their children, but one of the hardest things to do as a human being is to examine your own paradigm or worldview. And if you're a pro-spanking parent taking an honest look at whether spanking is really the best answer, I seriously commend you for being open even if you still choose spanking.

If you want more information on how to discipline without the use of spanking, here's a great website about implementing positive parenting.