Confessions not to worry about

I feel bad that I'm writing and posting this blog a day late.

I am constantly fretting over how much there is to do - 9 month old twins, one with temporary special needs, a new full time job, the house, the diabetes...And I'm fretting about how much isn't getting done.

I worry about my son's health. How long will this last? Will we ever figure out what's going on with him?

And then I worry that I'm not showing him enough fun attention and that I'm not showing Aria, my daughter, enough attention.

I worry about my health. I have let some things go. I still check my blood sugars, and I still bolus insulin with my pump before meals and to correct high sugars. And I still exercise four to five times a week. But I haven't made a few doctors appointments. I've been procrastinating. And I haven't done some basal testing that is long overdue. And I have been eating lots of junk food and drinking Diet Coke again, which I had given up two years ago. My eyesight has gotten fuzzy (which may be allergies). And I haven't been attending to my hip and hands.

I worry about money. But I'm not going to get into that here.

I definitely worry that I'm doing things wrong. Not good enough syndrome. But I guess you surmised that after reading the above.

And then I worry that I worry so much....

And all of this worrying has eaten up a lot of time. And it's kept me from enjoying life more. And it probably is the biggest part of the problem. Because I bet you that everything in my life is just fine. Actually everything is great.

So why worry? I'm not sure why.

I was fretting over what to write about yesterday, surfing the web looking for answers, and I found Martha Beck's March 2012 column in Oprah magazine on 10 Things You Can Officially Stop Worrying About. The article spoke to me loud and clear. My favorite line when she spoke about how you can stop worrying about your children: "Worry teaches worry" and "People blossom when you bring love to them."

The same is true for us. Worry creates more worrisome energy. But feelings of love, abundance, and gratitude bring more love, abundance, and gratitude.

I have seen this materialize in my own life time and time again. Next time I start to worry, I'm going to do my best to remember the simple lesson of love.

Bring love to everything you do, and the worry goes away....

How to deal with those really challenging moments

It's 4:50 am, and my son is spitting up bloody mucus. All over the crib, himself, and probably on me too. He's crying hysterically, turning bright red, gagging, and clearly in lots of pain. He stares at me, tears rolling down his face, with that look of, "Please save me," but I have to grab cloths and a decompression tube to clean out his tummy from all the toxins in his body. That's what helps him feel better the fastest.

And I'm tired. Fatigued. Exhausted. Especially because I myself was up vomiting the night before and had a fever all night long. One of those stomach flus that's been going around. On top of all this, I also started a new job two weeks ago. So I've been going through the typical mommy guilt and anxiety around leaving my kids in someone else's care. All day long. With not much of an idea of what's going on, and not much time in the day to check in.

And trying to keep up with it all. Making sure the kids are doing well. Making sure I'm doing well. Making sure work is going well. Making sure the house doesn't fall apart in the meantime. Oh yeah, and I'm married too, by the way. Fun, you ask, rest? Ha! What's that? The blog - once every two weeks - my therapy.

And I'm trying so hard to focus on helping my son at now 4:55 am. And I'm wondering, well, actually, I'm crying, "How are we going to get through this?"

And then I look behind me to see how Aria is doing. And she is staring at Ethan and me through her crib as she usually does when he has a bad episode, pacifier in mouth, and smiles from ear to ear when she sees me looking at her. I smile and give the moment a motherly, "shhh, go back to sleep, sweetie". And then I look back at Ethan, and he's kicking and smiling.

All better. The moment has passed. Time for me to clean up and try to get a few more minutes of sleep before getting up to get ready for work. I crawl back into bed - not really sleeping - until the alarm goes off.

I decide to e-mail my friend, a very spiritual and insightful person, in the early AM, and after a recap, I ask her: "How am I supposed to not go crazy from all of this?"

She must have written her reply while I was getting my breakfast together, "I think this is a lesson in stripping ego. Approach each moment with love."

I sit down with my yogurt and fruit. I also sprinkle in some flax seed and gluten-free granola. And I'm thinking, "How am I supposed to approach a 4:50 am nasty vomit session with love?"

So I respond to my friend, truly seeking her perpetual wisdom, and she says, "Honestly, I have to be authentic with you. I have no idea. I'd be annoyed."

Our situation has even stumped my friend who is one step away from enlightenment, and I go about my morning routine feeling miserable. Finish breakfast, brush my teeth, and go up to get the kids ready for the day.

And yes, I'll admit: I'm grunting, and I'm complaining - on the inside - about everything.

And then I see my kids. And yes, I'm sure you already predicted: They're smiling. Playing in their cribs. Happy to see me. And I can't help it. I just can't help it. Despite my misery, I smile back. And yes, actually, start singing songs. And chatting with them about whatever it is I chat with them about. Usually I give a running commentary on what we're doing. But sometimes I talk about how the cow goes "moo" and the train goes "choo choo", which is my son's personal favorite. And sometimes I sing sappy tunes for Aria, because they make her eyes sparkle.

I take them downstairs and start their breakfast until our nanny (who is great, by the way) shows up. And I'm sure you are thinking: I'm not going to feel bad for a person with a nanny. And I'm not asking you to. We need her. And where there's a will, there's a way.

Our nanny, a deeply spiritual and religious woman, rings the bell and after taking one look at me, asks if I can take the day off to rest. I can't. New job and all, I tell her.

And then she tells me that she's going to pray for us. She is going to pray for me. She is even going to have Aria bless me.

And then she says, "Do you want to know what makes me so successful at what I do? Why I have such a gift with kids?"

I'm listening.

"I approach each moment with love." There she said it. Exactly the same message my friend told me an hour or two before.

My heart got so warm and full of love in that moment. Is a message being sent to me from a Greater source? Could be. I know so. The coincidence was too real, too soon, too exact, and felt too good to hear - to not think it was a special message sent to us from Above.

The message: Even those seriously crappy moments, that seem to have no redeeming quality at all, can be approached with love. Must be approached with love. Are to be approached with love. Not sure why. Not sure how. And not so sure I'm supposed to be able to analyze it. Cause that's just what it is. And I knew I had to share it.

Genetics and accepting what is and what we don't know yet

When Ethan was born prematurely, and actually stopped growing when I was 26 weeks pregnant, the doctors at the NICU (newborn intensive care unit) thought that it was quite possible that diabetes is not what caused my son to stop growing in utero - but maybe, just maybe, he has a genetic disorder.

And the saga began...and still continues...of searching for a possible genetic link to my son's issues with eating and slower than expected growth.

A geneticist was given our case at the NICU, early on when Ethan was still struggling to stay alive. And to be totally honest, I was so focused on other things, like my son's survival and him coming home and also taking care of my daughter who was newly born and adjusting to being a new mom, that I didn't pay much attention to the geneticist.

And to be honest, I didn't want to.

She examined him. Her perceptions: He's small. Uh yeah, thanks. We know that. And she decided to run some tests. The results came back with weird results that left the doctors scratching their heads.

And that's when the excruciatingly, long story of my son's possible genetic disorder began. And that's also when we were made aware of what she was suspecting.

They thought he may have some form of dwarfism.

We were shocked. We do have genetic diseases that run in our family - diabetes being the first that comes to mind and celiac being the second. My husband's family has a ton of lactose intolerance and milk allergies. But I've never known anyone in either of our families to have dwarfism.

My intuition told me - and everyone in my world - that they were totally off on their genetic research quest. And forgetting a mother's intuition for a moment, we were actually told - by a number of other doctors and specialists - that the tests that were run aren't real. Why? Science hasn't thought to measure a "normal" range for growth hormone in babies - let alone premature babies - or other related tests (like IGF-1). So if they're not real, then why run them? Because that's what doctors do and many times, it helps. In our case though, it just left everyone stumped. The reason: Ethan's growth hormone was considered high, not low like in the majority of dwarfism cases, and he was small.

I felt and still feel that the lab results were off because he was born so small and fighting hard to survive. So his chemistry was a bit out of whack. I'm not a doctor, nor are my theories scientific or published in journals, but it's just a feeling I had. The other prevailing theory for his GI issues and slower than expected growth - and which totally makes complete sense to me - is that because he was born small, his digestive system was also very small when he was born. He developed really bad reflux. And reflux is KNOWN for being linked to feeding issues. Take the pain of reflux coupled with his premature size, and boom - feeding issues.

And for all of you diabetics out there considering pregnancy: I think he was also born small, and stopped growing in utero at 26 weeks, because I have had Type 1 diabetes for over 35 years, and my body just couldn't handle twins, pregnancy, and all that was involved. I had a tough first trimester, a great second, and a shortened and difficult third. But please, knowing what I know and being what I've been through, I wouldn't change it for the world. I have two beautiful babies that I love with all my heart. All children, and people, are handed a set of challenges in life - whether they are born to diabetics or not, premature or not - and the best we can do is face them, accept what life hands us, and learn.

Going back to Ethan and the story of genetics: I spoke with many specialists, cried to my close family and a few friends, read up on the internet, and paced the halls of our home at 3 am for months. The pain of not knowing, the fear of what may or may not be, was overwhelming to me. I was worried. I was soul searching. And I was praying for the best outcome possible.

I was crying to my husband, who so eloquently said: "Whether he has a genetic disorder or not, he is still the same Ethan."

He was right. Ethan, no matter what, is still the same lovable boy. And that's when it hit me. His words had helped me come to a place of acceptance.

I had made a pledge, set an intention, when I was pregnant that I would support both of our children's individual journeys. That I would be there for them and be present with them and who they are, listen to them, smile with them, and teach them to be grateful every day.

Ethan was re-tested and measured and x-rayed and scanned. And all of those wacky tests that made no sense to me the first time, when I was in a place of resistance, came back negative.

The geneticist wanted to do her due diligence though. She was convinced that something was wrong, that Ethan has a genetic disorder, and she was scared that if there is something, that she might not find it. She wanted to run more tests, an in depth look at his entire genetic make-up. The test - called a Chromosome Micro-array - costs around $100,000, and is performed RARELY.

That test also came back with inconclusive results. Nothing was missing, and there was nothing extra. A few homozygous chains, which every human being on the planet has. (What are Homozygous chromosomes? It's when you have identical pairs of genes for any given pair of hereditary characteristics. For example, if you had a double dose of brown hair in your DNA.)

Guess what? That is what makes us unique and different. No one has a perfect genetic make-up.

She is still searching, and wants us to run more tests. In the meanwhile, we've decided to see another geneticist for a second opinion. We are going to run the tests, mainly because I'm a mom and if there is something to be found, I want to be sure we know about it. So that we can manage it.

My gut still tells me that he was simply born small, and as he grows, the reflux, feeding issues, and all that is related to that, will work itself out. BUT, you never know. And as parents, we want to be sure to give our child the best we can. We want to support him and Aria through whatever they need.

And what Ethan has given me, through this whole experience, is a real lesson in acceptance - even when you don't know what you are accepting. I don't know if I'm accepting a genetic disorder or not. What I do know is that resisting it won't help him, me, or anyone else.

Life coach and Oprah magazine columnist Martha Beck wrote a great article once that has stayed with me, A New Leash on Life. She was pregnant with her second child when late in the pregnancy, an amniocentesis showed that her son has Down's syndrome.

Beck had the difficult decision of whether to abort or not. And after much soul searching, she felt strongly that she wanted to continue with the pregnancy despite many people telling her not to. Telling her what a difficult task it is to raise a child with special needs.

And he wound up being the greatest gift.

She spoke of all the lessons she learned, that I am learning as well, about not being a victim of your thoughts. I do tend to conjure up images and stories that are usually based on fear of what may or may not be. And we really don't know what will be. So the best thing we can do is accept what is, and get out of our heads.

Martha Beck learned lessons that opened up her world. She credits her success, abundance, and love of life to the lessons she learned from raising her son with Down's Syndrome.

I feel the same way. I have changed as a person so much since this experience began, and I bet there's more in store. I have learned to savor special moments and to stay in the moment during challenging times. I have listened and trusted my intuition more than I ever have in my life, and I actually feel much more self-confident. And I am also finding myself - just as Martha Beck did - becoming more successful, more abundant, and loving life more and more. I have everything I could ever want and need, and I KNOW that it's from the lessons I've learned through this whole experience. I have Ethan and Aria to thank for opening up my world to so much.

Hey there, geneticists, what you got for me now?

Healthy sleep, healthy body, happy family, happy mom

Boy did we have a rough night last night. We're not sure if Aria is teething, had painful gas, or all of the above. My husband and I spent an hour and a half trying to calm her, then of course we had to calm her brother because she woke him up (and probably the whole neighborhood), and then each other so that we could get back to sleep.

She survived. And after a night of being awakened four or five more times (who knows how many really), I woke up exhausted. And in physical pain, once again.

This may sound like hell, and it kind of is. But the good news is that Aria really is typically a great sleeper. That's how we know that the crazy waking up must be something like teething. And it also gives me a chance to re-visit the importance of sleep for a healthy body - and for a happy me.

This is not new news from the mom of the infant twins world. I don't think I'm saying anything new when I tell you that sleep is important to your health; it's a chance for your body to restore physically, emotionally, and mentally.

All that saying, I have to write about this topic. Because I'm just so tired and that's what's on my mind. And because I feel a real difference in my health when I sleep and when I don't sleep.

Here's a brief example: I woke up two days ago with pain in my left hip. Mind you, that's the hip that has healed. I took a nap at around 4 pm. I woke up, and the pain went away!

I desperately wrote our pediatrician an e-mail asking for advice a few months back when the kids were waking up every two hours. I knew I wouldn't make it if we kept going like this.

What I didn't know it at the time, and now do, is that I was taking on a new family project: Get us all to sleep well. She recommended that I read "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child" by Dr. Marc Weissbluth, which I call 'the sleepy book' for short.

The sleepy book tells us tired, exhausted parents all the reasons why lack of sleep is so detrimental to the health of infants AND adults. Sleep is important for mental alertness, and lack of sleep has been shown to cause fussiness, excited-ness, and an upset baby. It has been linked to attention deficit disorder in older children.

And an Australian sleep study done on adults shows that lack of sleep causes an increase in cortisol – the body’s stress hormone. Cortisol is a hormone that we diabetics are familiar with as it has also been linked to rising morning blood sugars (known as dawn phenomenon) and weight gain. Please check diabetes.org for more information or the links provided in this paragraph.

The sleepy book recommends creating an environment for healthy sleep, which includes: a regular sleep schedule, sleep consolidation - meaning lots of it undisturbed, naps (for children), and sleep duration night and day. His strategies work unless a baby is teething, sick, just received immunizations, or is hungry.

So first there's the schedule: We did this by logging when our kids' natural sleepy times and feedings are and then building a schedule around them. And then sticking to it. The schedule is key. We treat naps as sacred, and we don't keep them awake to play with visitors. Ever.

Undisturbed sleep is also important. Never wake a sleeping baby. Of course this is hard when you are also sticking to a schedule - with twins - but it somehow works itself out on most days. We do wake them up if we need to - mostly because of their feeding schedule, and the sleeping schedule falls into place around it naturally.

Longer night and day sleep results from putting kids to bed when they first appear drowsy. Not stretching them. So when we see Aria starting to slow down or Ethan staring into space, we know it's time for bed. If they're yawning, rubbing their eyes, or getting fussy, it means they're already overtired.

This works for us most of the time. The sleepy book does say that babies start to sleep through the night at around nine months after their due date. So we have some time to go. And I'll tell you, it's not an easy journey. And as everyone told me when this whole thing started, it does get better.

One thing I can say is that I have never been so aware of sleep before. I used to just do it. Now I pray for it and appreciate it when it does happen. I do believe that once the sleeping gets back on track that I'll feel better physically. Healthier and happier. We all need healthy sleep so that we can be healthy and happy. And I hope I will never take sleep for granted ever again...

P.S. I wrote this blog yesterday, Sunday morning, and last night both babies slept the whole night!!! And I slept for nine and a half undisturbed hours!!! I feel better already. My hands feel much better, and my hips do too.

P.P.S. I cannot possibly relay the wealth of information found in the sleepy book. Check out the sleepy book for all of the tips and tricks!

Healing messages: A break from the stress

My body has been breaking down since having our two amazing kids, who are going to be eight months old in two days. And I have been trying to figure out what’s going on and how to heal and mend my aching body.

Let me start by telling you what’s wrong: I’m pretty sure I have carpal tunnel syndrome in my right hand, trigger finger in my right pinky, and loss of range of motion in my right hip.

I am not the type of person who gets a headache and just takes an aspirin. I see a headache as a symptom of something deeper – emotionally and spiritually. It’s the body’s way of shouting out a message for spiritual and emotional healing. And if you don’t listen, the body continues to break down until you finally listen and do something about it.

Because I know that our bodies speak to us and enlighten us to a deeper understanding of our true selves, I started my quest for healing alternative style. I did make an appointment with a rheumatologist because I want to be thorough and do whatever I can to help my body heal, but I’m also going gung-ho on the alternative approach as well, as I am certain that my body is trying to tell me something.

I started by asking the Universe (or God, whatever you call it): How can I heal my right hip?

And my intuition told me very clearly that yoga and meditation would help. I also heard reiki, and did start seeing a reiki master. It’s an AMAZING experience, which I’ll save for its own blog post once I’ve come to some clarity on what to say.

On yoga and meditation: I returned to my yoga practice as soon as I could after my c-section, and I have been doing a lot of hip opener sequences. I have been meditating as well, listening to the different areas of my body – especially during yoga – and also visualizing myself, with the flexibility of a yogi, doing lotus poses with ease.

I also saw myself having a conversation with my son Ethan while meditating. Ethan was born very small and in the NICU for three and a half months. We went on a really scary and rough road with him. But he’s doing really, really well. I had to process everything that had happened, and I apologized to him during the meditation. I felt guilty for what he went through, since I feel responsible for it. I also purposefully re-lived some of the trauma of the pregnancy, birth, and aftermath. I would love to be able to find the words to describe to you how important it was to meditate on the experience, and I am going to continue until I feel at complete peace with everything that happened. But I can tell you that today, I feel so much stronger and calmer than I ever have in my life.

My intuition told me very clearly that my right hip was storing a lot of stress and mind chatter around the whole experience of what happened with my son. And looking back on it, actually, my right hip lost its flexibility a few weeks after the c-section. So my intuition made a lot of sense.

I came to another realization a week ago: All of the aches and pains are on the right side of my body. It seems so obvious now, but it took me a while to figure that out. There’s meaning behind that.

Looking at it from a Western medicine perspective, the right side of the body is controlled by the left brain. It’s the side that controls language, rational and logical thought, the side that categorizes things, and writes to-do lists. From a Chinese medicine perspective, it’s the masculine side – the more aggressive side; while the left side of the body is the feminine – the passive side. The right brain is creative, abstract, and emotional and controls the left side of the body. And whenever those two sides of our inner selves are out of balance – the body gets out of balance as well.

My spiritual diagnosis is clear:

1) I still haven’t fully come to terms with what happened with Ethan. And I’m not afraid to say it out loud to all of you. I haven’t let it all go yet, although I thought I had.

2) On top of that, I’ve been in “doing” overload since the babies were born. No more resting on Saturday and Sunday mornings. I wake up early and change diapers and feed babies – happily, mind you, but it’s tiring. The stress of not sleeping. The stress of not having time to unwind, be more creative, meditate more consistently. I’m stuck in what seems to be an endless stream of to-do lists. I am doing too much. Not resting enough. And quite frankly, it’s really hard to find time to rest when you’re juggling taking care of twins (one of whom has some temporary special needs), keeping up with the house, going to doctors’ appointments with two other little people to think about, and managing my diabetes and health. Oh yeah, that.

My body is screaming that I need a break, a chance to rest and restore. And also a chance to process and let go of everything that happened.

So I put it out there: How is a mom of twins with diabetes supposed to find the time to rest and restore AND take care of things at the same time? How are we all supposed to find the balance between doing and getting things done AND taking care of our health and wellness?

Here’s what I heard: Let go of the mind chatter and go with the flow. And savor the moments when you do have peace and calm. The more you savor them, the more you create the energy of peace and calm in your life.

505 and the calmness of a deep blue lake

I have not forgotten about this blog! That I promise you. I truly enjoy writing, and I love the conversations that this blog generates with all of you. I am finding it challenging though to write every week and take care of Ethan and Aria, who are all but seven months old. So, I have decided to start blogging every other week rather than weekly, with posts still on Mondays. Enjoy! - Ophir

505 and the calmness of a deep blue lake

I didn’t write last Monday for one simple reason: My blood sugar went all the way up to 505. It was scary. Not only because I care about my health and my diabetes, but also because I have the babies to think about. And high sugars like that could land me in the emergency room if not treated immediately.

Numbers like those happen to me very rarely, but I have my "Back to Normal BGs" strategy down to a science. The kids were napping, and so I changed my pump site immediately. The culprit was clear: A faulty infusion set. The canula was bent. I injected a correction bolus with a syringe and even threw away the old vial of insulin just in case. I changed infusion sites, also just in case.

And then I freaked. Usually I lay on the couch and rest drinking diet ginger ale while I wait for my sugars to go back to normal. The last time this happened was 2008, and so I didn’t have ginger ale lying around the house. And I also had no chance of resting on the couch for more than 15 minutes.

And in the midst of all of my panic on what to do and how to find help, I also thought about this blog. And how another week would go by without a posting. Without me writing about, ironically enough, living with diabetes consciously, in a balanced, healthy way.

I had been debating that morning about a blog topic. I knew I wanted to write about a Buddhist meditation on the deep blue lake and was looking for my own real life example. The gist of the meditation: Wind, rain, storm, or sun, the depths of a lake are still, unwavering, and serene despite what is happening on the surface. According to Buddhism, that stillness - deep inside - is a metaphor for your spirit.

I was trying to think of my own story to tie into the meditation when I went to check my sugar. And boom, there it was 505. At the time, I didn’t see it as a writing opportunity. I was not calm and serene like a deep blue lake. I was crying. I was crying that I couldn’t think of who to call for help that lived close by. And I was ready to move next door to my parents like in Everybody Loves Raymond. Or, to Allentown, PA (which is really not my style and yes, it's very far away from us) to be near where my husband works.

But rather than pack my bags, I did have enough wits about me to call my husband and a friend of mine to brainstorm a solution. I wound up calling a friend who left work to help me. She brought me two cases of diet ginger ale. I don’t know why. But it helps me. And I called my neighbor who came over within seconds to help me with the kids. She and I sat for a few hours and had a lovely conversation, and she told me to always feel free to pick up the phone and call her. The kids had a great time with her. And she even brought over some music CDs for the kids to play along to. My sugar dropped back to normal within a few hours. And everything wound up being more than okay.

By the end of the day, I realized that I had my real life example for this blog. It was clearly not an example of how to implement the meditation effectively. But rather, an example of a time when it could have helped. I had allowed the stuff on the surface get the better of me when things were rough. Rather than tap into the stillness of the lake for a bit of calm despite the craziness.

You see, the stuff on the surface changes all the time. One minute, the weather might be rainy and the next sunny without a cloud in the sky. But the depths of the lake always remain the same. Just like our inner spirits. We should all tap into that stillness when things on the surface get rough. It helps the stuff on the outside go much smoother, much easier, because it comes from a place of peace and acceptance.

I’ll see you all again in two weeks.

Ending the war on feeding issues

Ethan and Aria were born five and a half months ago, and food and feeding issues have re-arisen to the top of my things to think about. And conquer.

Feeding takes on an entirely new meaning when you have two little people totally dependent on you for sustenance. And along with the obvious – meaning feed them - comes how to help them feel better when they have feeding issues like gas or needs a diaper change or bigger concerns.

Aria has taught me quite a bit about eating healthy. She knows exactly what she needs to eat to gain exactly the right amount of weight. While with Ethan, we have gone through an incredibly frustrating and grueling five or so months of trying to figure out why he isn’t eating what he needs to gain a healthy weight and catch up to others his age (he was born premature and very small). We are pretty sure that we’ve figured it out: Turns out that he’s a lactose intolerant foodie who likes to snack sometimes.

But ending the war on feeding issues isn’t only about the kids. My relationship with food has long been an issue for me, as I believe it has been for just about everyone on the planet whether they’re aware of it or not. The babies’ relationship with food, and the need to think about it more than I ever would for myself, has brought to light my own relationship with food. And I’m the better for it. Because now I can declare, I have ended my own war with feeding issues and my body.

Geneen Roth, author of Women, Food, and God says it best. We all have a relationship with food and eating that is reflective of how we approach life and our values.

I’ll share with you a smidgen of my own saga. Food has been the bane of my existence and also my savior, a source for strength and comfort, and a passion. I love food, especially really good food, and I also feel guilty because of food, like I’m never quite eating just right. Diabetes and celiac comes with restrictions and rules. You need to eat just the right amounts and right kinds or your body goes haywire. I know this, and I want to be fit and healthy. I feel better when I am. But when I see a beautiful meal, I can’t help but indulge a bit. And like many people, I also see food as love and family. I socialize around it. Holiday dinners revolve around food. I try to be conscious of what I’m eating, and yet somehow, it never turns out quite right. A sugar goes high, the weight doesn’t go down, but I also want to sit around the table with family and friends and enjoy. And then the guilt enters, the feeling bad about myself, the perfectionist that is me.

Alright, so how did I get from there to now? The end of my own personal war with food?

I was obsessing over Ethan’s feeding issues. I cannot even begin to describe to you how difficult dealing with an infant’s feeding issues is. Babies can’t really tell you what’s bothering them, and days are filled with crying and discomfort. So you have to observe closely, read the signs and symptoms, and try things out. We tried a lot of things out – from gas drops to tests and medications for reflux. But I’ll talk more about that another time. The point is: We needed it to be resolved. For his health. And for our health. And all of our sanity. Bottom line: He wasn’t reaching his potential because he wasn’t getting the proper nutrition, and it weighed down on all of us.

I would pray, meditate, journal, talk about it, talk about it again, then cry about it, pray some more, do some yoga, journal. And then I asked for spiritual guidance. Which I tend to do under these kinds of circumstances. And I got it.

First, his feeding issues are his journey, and I can’t control it. I need to go with the flow, and listen closely to my intuition.

And, I can use the opportunity to learn what I can about my own issues with food. I decided to re-visit Geneen Roth’s book in audio form.

Then the answers started coming regarding Ethan. We tried a lactose free formula. There are a number of them, and quite frankly they really stink. I mean they smell really bad. And he didn’t like them. We tried three until we found one that he likes. And bingo, he’s eating like a champ.

And as the answers were coming to us about Ethan, the answers were coming to me as well. I went to the mall one day for a break.

I was so tired from the sleepless nights and very long, tiring days. I asked for spiritual guidance again. Not about me or my own feeding issues. Just a general, I need help. Please. Now. I begged for a cleaner and two live-in nannies. To win the lottery. To have a house large enough for the live-in nannies. To have my life back again.

I was wandering aimlessly around Barnes and Noble thinking about these two amazing kids, but not really figuring out where I should go or what I should do. And I remembered something my doctor said to me, the OB/GYN who delivered the twins. He told me that we had been through so much, and it’s my job now to transform all of the fear of losing him and everything we went through with him at the NICU for three and a half months - to joy. He said, "What's the point of having kids if you aren't going to feel joy?"

That statement stuck with me. Why was I having such trouble transforming it to joy? And I realized that I’ve always been like this though, haven’t I? Never quite satisfied, always looking for trouble and obsessing over fixing it.

I walked out into the main part of the mall and sat on a bench for a moment to rest. And then I looked up and saw a large sign in one of the store windows: Get over it.

Those words stuck with me, but still didn’t quite penetrate. The hint hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Not until I left the mall and went out to my car to go home. I put on the audio CD of Geneen Roth’s Women, Food, and God, and sure enough, the first words I heard were, “Chapter Two: Ending the war.”

I didn’t need to hear anything else. What am I fighting for? I can choose my own battles with myself. And I choose peace of mind. I had been searching for some magical antidote. A message like: Go to five sessions of reiki and all of your problems will be solved. It doesn’t quite work like that though. And to be honest, I wasn’t even thinking about my relationship with food or my body, even though I was listening to a book about Women, Food, and God. I was actually listening to it more for an epiphany regarding Ethan – not me.

I decided that day to end the war. I wasn’t sure exactly which war. But it was going to end. I decided to stop battling with myself.

A few days later, I realized that I actually love my body. I hadn’t been searching for that. And I realized that it felt really good to feel that way for the first time in my life. Alas, the war has ended.

Cooling the flames

I woke up one morning around six years ago and had lost the range of motion in my left hip. It was quite a long road getting my hip back again, but I was able to do it. Well, here we go again – only on the right side.

It started a couple of weeks after my c-section. I was doing yoga one morning, and noticed that I had lost quite a lot of range of motion. To make matters worse, I noticed that if I move it a little bit funny, I am in excruciating pain.

The good news is that I already know what to do since I’ve been through this before. I know that it’s osteoarthritis. I know that it’s a result of inflammation. I know that inflammation is stress-induced. And I also know that alternative medical treatments work much better than traditional Western ones in this case.

Last time, I was sent to an orthopedist, then to physical therapy, x-rays, MRIs, and a rheumatologist. I wound up treating it though with a mix of chiropractic care, yoga, proper diet and sleep, ginger tea, and stress reducing meditation. I visualized myself with a fully functioning, flexible, pain-free hip. I also did body work meditation, which basically means that after quieting the mind through deep breathing, you go to the point in the body where the pain is and ask if there’s a message. I have gained many insights into stress that I have suppressed in my body, and I find that once I’m aware of it, I’m able to work out the tension helping my body feel better. By the way, you can also do this through yoga. Just ask for insights on a particular question, and then let your body do the work. Messages will come to you while practicing the various poses and/or at the end when lying in shavasana or corpse pose.

I have already started, but am finding it harder this time to implement my treatment since having twins. Okay, for one, I don’t really get to decide how much sleep I get on any given night. I’m always tired. Two, I also don’t always get to decide when I do yoga and when I don’t or when and if I get to finish a routine. I don’t go to the chiropractor quite as often. I meditate occasionally. And sometimes I eat whatever is handy – including pizza, pasta, and tortilla chips. I have managed to cut out artificial sweeteners and started drinking ginger tea though.

So what do I do? Well, I can’t change the fact that I have twins, and that I need to take care of them. Nor do I want to. But I can find a way to be more forgiving of myself, to look at what I am doing for myself and focus on that. I am managing to do yoga on some days. I am managing to meditate on some days. And I am managing to still eat vegetables every day. I have already visualized both of my hips as flexible, fit, and agile. And I know that the hip will heal. Now it's about time, patience, and forgiveness.

Balancing health and newfound motherhood

I had a rough morning today. I woke up at around 5:30 in the morning ready to exercise, get my insulin pack together with all of my vitamins, blood sugar checking paraphernalia, and insulin pump stuff, and eat breakfast before the kids woke up. You probably guessed from the title of this blog entry, things didn’t turn out exactly the way I had planned.

I did manage to get the insulin pack together, but that was only because my husband went to get Aria who had also woken up at 5:30 along with her mother and father. I fed her. She played a bit. I decided to swaddle her up and let her watch me exercise. Yes, that actually interests a newborn child, and I figure I’m teaching them to take care of their health while taking care of mine too. She fell asleep while I was warming up. I was well on my way to getting fit and strong, when fifteen minutes into it, Ethan woke up ready to eat and play. I had stop.

And that’s pretty much how my morning went. One would wake up to eat while the other one napped, and then as soon as one was ready to nap, the other would wake up to eat.

I get frustrated when these types of mornings happen. I want to get stuff done, and I hate being interrupted or feeling obliged to change my course. But it’s not like I’m an evil mother because of this. I’m trying to actually take care of my health. This is a good thing. And I tried really hard all morning long to finish the routine. I put Ethan in the swing and let him watch me, but then he started screaming. He was hungry. He finally went to sleep – after many maneuvers on my part. I figured I could finish the routine, and then Aria woke up. I took her upstairs to put the laundry in the washer. She wanted to play, and so I put her under her mobile, and she kicked around in her crib.

Here’s my surprising bit of news. Despite all of the juggling, I do somehow manage to take care of myself. I do manage to exercise most days of the week and eat healthy meals. I do check my sugars. Sometimes I’m holding a bottle and pricking my finger at the same time, but it gets done.

I think it’s because I’ve made healthy living a priority. But it’s not only that. I am trying really hard not to get hung up on plans. This is really hard for me by the way. I have always been a planner. My children are teaching me to go with the flow. Make adjustments when necessary and figure out how to still get it done. So I didn’t get to exercise in the morning, but I did do another 15 minutes of that routine later in the day. It may not be the ideal way to work out, but hey, I did something.

I know I’m not alone in feeling overwhelmed with things to do. I keep hearing from friends and family about the amount of stuff on their plates. I am not proposing that everyone become to-do list addicts. But one thing I’ve learned as a mom of five month old twins is that there’s always stuff to do. And the only way to balance it all is to prioritize and then go with the flow, moment by moment, day by day.

Stressed out and loving it

What’s stressing me out, you may ask? Well, besides being totally tired from taking care of our newborn twins Ethan and Aria, I am also dealing with my own health issues since having the babies (nothing serious, but still not something you wish for; more on this later), Ethan’s health needs resulting from his very low birth weight (and the team of doctors that we need to see), the economic situation (otherwise known as, “now it’s my turn”), getting stuff done (i.e., the bane of my existence: to-do lists), and still adjusting to this whole thing we call motherhood (and figuring out how to remain sane).

I was telling my husband about it, crying and complaining like crazy. I even made a list of all the things that are stressing me out and sent it to him by e-mail – just to show him how really stressed out I really am.

His response: “Everything will be okay. Things always work out. Look at where we are now. We live a good life.”

That of course is the perfect answer. What else would you tell someone when they’re totally losing it? “Uh, yeah, it’ll only get worse.”

But then he pointed out to me all the things that ARE going well in our lives. And he pointed out to me how we’ve been through tough times in the past, and everything always worked out for the best. And everything always works out at the right pace and at the right time.

I listened to his words, and felt inspired to work out my stress through yoga a few minutes later – remembering how therapeutic it is for me. I believe from my own experiences that we hold stress in our bodies which if unattended to can turn to illness. Yoga is the perfect way to let it go. Stretching, sweating, building strength and balance. Yoga gently moves you to become present.

And that’s when it hit me: I am the creator of my stress. Me and only me. My list of stressors really has no meaning. I attach the meaning to it. I choose how to perceive the stress in my life. I could revolutionize the whole way I perceive stress, and look at the same things that are stressing me out as adventurous and exciting. As opportunities to grow, learn, and live life more fully.

I have these amazing kids who are just so much fun. I have always worked out my health issues in the past, and I will this time too. And career/economic situation – totally an opportunity to re-invent myself and follow my dreams.

As for the health stuff, it really deserves its own blog. But to make it brief: I have some health stuff that came around after the twins were born – mostly inflammation in my joints. I’ve had this before, and I know how to take care of it. I’ve overcome inflammation in the past through yoga, diet, and meditation. I can do it again.

Everyone goes through stress in one way or another. Use it. Take advantage of it. Awareness of your stress is a way to learn more about yourself, what makes you tick, and then turn it around to live more fully. It’s up to me and only me to turn my stress around. Here we go...

Savoring each moment

Twins are a challenge to raise. I love them dearly (goes without saying), but I have to admit that I have been obsessively wondering: When does this get easier? When does raising newborn twins, while also trying to somehow take care of myself, a house, and the rest of life, get easier?

I take this question very seriously. I refuse to just give in and be a blithering, tired mom for the next however many years. So I decided to search for the answer.

I started a few months ago (while I was still pregnant) by reading parenting books in search for clear directions on parenting success – and even more so, parenting twins sanely. I read (and am still reading) the oracle of parenting: “What to Expect the First Year,” as well as other books like “Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child,” by Marc Weissbluth (sleep is a big deal for newborns and their parents) and “Having Twins,” by Elizabeth Noble, among many more. But alas, even those incredibly popular books gave lots of options and choices without one real true definitive path to sane twin parenting.

I have implemented many of the suggestions, the ones that make sense, and yet, I am still completely and absolutely worn out. And actually, I just read last night in "Having Twins" that things will only get tougher once the kids are eating solids and moving. Solids are tough because it's more work and messy. Moving is tough because they just move in different directions and not know yet that certain things are dangerous. That obviously did not make me feel better.

So I turned to friends and relatives, especially other parents of twins. I received many different answers to the “When does it get easier” question. Some told me that it gets easier when children reach three or four years old when they are less physically dependent, but then the same people told me that at that age, the physical stress turns to emotional stuff. Some say it all gets easier when you start sleeping through the night when children reach two or three years old. Some say when they’re 18 and leave the house for college. While others say when they get married and then it becomes someone else’s problem.

So basically we're talking anywhere from three to eighteen to twenty plus years from today. And I don't think I'll last that long!

I was feeding the twins (at the same time) when the answer hit me: I wasn’t asking the right question. What I should be asking is: How do I make this moment easier?
I keep trying to rush past all of this, and amazingly enough, it’s one of the most fulfilling and joyful times of my life. I’m trying to jump eighteen years ahead instead of simply savoring the moment I’m in.

The twins are growing and developing each day. And this is it. This is my chance to experience what it’s like to be raising these amazing four and a half month old babies. Life is transient. And soon they’ll be five months old, and I won’t be able to go back again to this day. So, I’d better savor it. I’d better live for the moment.