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...

Becoming a NICU Warrior Mom

Ethan and Aria were born prematurely thirteen weeks ago. Ethan has been at the NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) since he was born. I have decided to devote the next few blogs to sharing the lessons I am learning from the NICU experience.


I have been transformed into a warrior mom during my son’s journey at the NICU.

In the beginning of Ethan’s stay, I was quite the opposite of a warrior mom. I was completely overwhelmed the first few weeks actually. I was recovering from a c-section and had a newborn at home on top of having a child in the NICU. I was sleep-deprived, and my body was going through a huge hormonal transformation. I was overwhelmed with guilt regarding both children, feeling torn between them, and in the meanwhile, not taking as good care of myself as I needed. I missed Ethan terribly, but wanted to be fair to Aria as well. My feelings of guilt have not gone away, BUT I have come to accept that we’re doing the best we can with the situation we’ve been given.

That feeling of acceptance of the situation took a while. And in the beginning of his stay, all of those feelings I just mentioned were distracting me from the matter at hand – providing Ethan with the best, most loving care possible.

I listened to what the doctors said about my son and his care. I asked questions, but I didn’t question. I didn’t want to upset any of the nurses since they were with my son, caring for him, much more than I was.

Then issues began to transpire. I was not happy with some of the directions that were being taken regarding his care.

One of the issues that concerned us (and still does) was consistent care and the passing on of information: The doctors work on rotations. The nurses work in shifts. The residents are there on a monthly basis. We found that each doctor has their own approach, and plans would change constantly. People are human, sometimes details get lost when passed from one person to the next, and messages were not necessarily being passed on from nurse to nurse effectively.

What this means is that our son was being passed from one hand to the next, and not receiving the same care. So he became inconsistent. For example, eating really well one day, and not the next. Growth and eating healthy are very crucial parts to a baby's well-being. My husband and I were the only consistency in his life, and we couldn’t be there all the time.

Time was passing. I wasn’t at the stage where I could see what was going on clearly. And I couldn’t understand why my son was still there or what was keeping him there. What still had to be done to get him home?

I really didn’t know who to speak with about the issues, and it was hard for me to put a handle on what was bothering me exactly. I was more emotional than effective. So I would speak with the nurses. I developed relationships with many of them. And as I spoke to them more and more – and spent more and more time at the NICU, I began learning how things work around there.

One of the nurses suggested that we ask for a family meeting to discuss a plan for discharge with the doctor. My husband took a day off from work. We brought Aria with us. And we sat with a team of doctors involved in his care, along with a nurse Ethan had never seen before and one of the residents.

We asked about the plan for discharge, or the plan for getting him ready for discharge. The doctors seemed to have a different agenda for our meeting though. They wanted to talk about their search for an answer to the BIG question: Why did my son stop growing in utero at 26 weeks? Is there something else going on besides being a small, premature baby?

The doctors told us about a series of tests they had run and were going to run. And their theories as to what could be happening. And I was overwhelmed with emotions once again: Oh no, what are they going to tell me that my son has? I thought we were going to talk about my son coming home. I knew they were running tests, but I hadn’t given them much thought. (In the meanwhile, all of the tests have come back normal.)

It hit me a week after that meeting, after I had gotten hold of my emotions. If he has something, we'll deal with it. That's not keeping him in the NICU though. Right now, our focus and our main goal is to get him home. I had been distracted by other things rather than doing everything I can to get him discharged. My son needed me to be more involved. Like super duper, above and beyond involved. I needed to be clear-headed, understanding, prepared, smart and intuitive. I needed to speak up when I didn’t understand or was unsure of a treatment. I needed to be on top of things. I wanted to know about every test, every feeding, every prick, and every poop.

My husband and I began doing research. Asking questions. I began speaking to the doctor every day, and I still call the nurses several times a day to ask for updates. I started taking notes and tracking his progress. I wrote down the names of all the tests and asked for reports. I want to know EVERYTHING. I learned how they calculated certain measurements, and I began calculating them too. We complained to the NICU bosses regarding consistency in care, and sure enough, notes began appearing on our son’s crib with plans of care. And when something doesn’t go the way I think it should go or am confused about how it should go: I speak to the doctor, the nurse manager, or the patient relations representative (depending on the situation) and things get taken care of immediately.

I really don’t care if people like me or not. This is my son’s care we’re talking about. Yes, it is more effective if I approach practitioners in a user-friendly way, and I do my best to stay calm, clear, and understanding. That’s for sure. But that doesn’t mean that I have to go out of my way to please them if I see a problem either.

In the meanwhile, I have come to realize that the NICU staff – from the doctors to the nurses to the secretaries – really, really, really do care about our son’s well-being. And they will do whatever they can to help him. I know that for sure.

We’re all human. We all try our best. And our best might change at any given moment. And that’s why I’ve decided to become as clear as I can be of emotions that hold me back, and to transform into a warrior mom.

A member of the pregnancy club

People who had hardly paid any attention to me, or had never spoken with me, are suddenly my best friends (okay, slight exaggeration). There are those people in my life who had never said more than a hello to me, and are now blowing me kisses. Strangers in stores have full length discussions with me concerning breast feeding and due dates. Friends and relatives that I haven’t spoken with in 15 or 20 years are suddenly calling, e-mailing, and contacting me with their experiences, advice, concerns….and of course congratulations.

I have entered the pregnancy club - or otherwise known as the ‘people who have children’ club.

I had no idea that I wasn’t a member of this exclusive club over the years. I knew I didn’t have children. I’m not completely oblivious. I guess I just didn’t notice that there was an actual club. That people would treat me differently. I noticed that I connected with some people and not with others. Totally natural, right? I never really thought that all I had to do was get pregnant and suddenly people would want to speak with me. Go figure.

I have my theories as to why:

1. People love feeling wise, and they love sharing their viewpoints, advice, and experiences in the world of children. It’s a chance for people to share of themselves.

2. Babies are just so cute, so innocent and pure, so untainted by the shenanigans of life. There’s a small window of opportunity for us jaded folks to tap into it, experience the joys of a new life, and enjoy its vibe. Before they grow up and enter the “mine” phase – or as Eckhart Tolle calls it in “A New Earth” – the developing ego.

3. Getting excited about pregnancy and babies is a way for people to feel connected. We are all connected on this planet – every single one of us is a being on this Earth. We all feel love, sadness, disappointment, gratitude. We are all going to die one day, and we all feel our bodies’ strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes this is hard to see and feel because we become encumbered by our differences. Bringing life into this world is a tangible way for people to feel connected with the other. People all over the world have babies – no matter what race, religion, or political ideology. Isn’t that nice?

Now that I have entered the club, I can’t help but ask myself: If I wasn’t pregnant, would you be talking to me? What about the people who aren’t “in the club”? Some people judge them. I know that Oprah has been badgered for years for not having children or getting married. Others feel pity for those without kids.

And then others, which I hope I’m a part of, accept that everyone has their own journey in life, their own experiences, and their own set of lessons to learn.

I say: Let’s do away with the club mentality – meaning, where someone has to be in the club in order to connect with them.

It’s fun to share about pregnancy and having children. Absolutely! I’m happy to be re-connecting with folks that I haven’t spoken with in years. I don’t want to dissuade people from sharing. My basic point is that although it’s fun to connect with people on things we have in common, it’s also great to thrive in our differences.

We are all connected. We’re all humans on this Earth - with emotions, feelings, hopes, and dreams. We all have a lot to share and wisdom to offer. We’re all grasping for the joys of life in our own way. So let’s listen to each other and learn.

Twin pregnancy, diabetes, and weight gain

Wow, I’m supposed to be gaining weight! How liberating!

With a twin pregnancy, I should gain anywhere from 35 to 50 pounds, according to all the doctors and information out there. I’m at 21 weeks and one day, and I have gained 16 pounds according to my doctor’s scale this morning. Am I right on track?

The fact that I’m supposed to gain weight – and not lose or maintain it – really sunk in one morning during one of my pre-natal work-out videos. I could not help but smile when I heard one of the instructors say: “This work-out is not meant for weight loss. It’s meant to make healthy moms and healthy babies.”

I’m working out not to shed those extra 10 pounds anymore! I’m exercising for pure and absolute health.

I was grinning from ear to ear. It was like a huge load had been lifted off of my shoulders. I have made myself crazy for decades about my body – that I need to lose weight, be thin, and so on. And here I am, the first time in my life, gaining weight – on purpose!!!

After being told to gain weight, I think I felt as though I received a permission slip to eat ice cream, steak, french fries, chocolate, crème brule…I have definitely been indulging in fattening luxuries. It’s for me and the babies. I’m eating for three, right?

Well, I’m not sure. I’ve been receiving mixed messages from my array of doctors. Perhaps I’ve been indulging too much?

I had an appointment with my OB/GYN on Thursday morning and one this morning with my endocrinologist. My OB/GYN said that my weight gain is right on target. My endocrinologist does not necessarily agree nor disagree but does want me to change some of my eating patterns of late. (I can’t really blame him for telling me, “no more ice cream.”)

On the one hand, my blood sugars have been fantastic; my endocrinologist said so this morning. My blood pressure is right on target. I had a twin anatomy and fetal echocardiogram on Monday. The first is a test that determines the growth of the babies and the echocardiogram is performed on diabetics because there are risks of heart problems in diabetic pregnancies. The good news is that the babies’ growth and weights are normal, and their heartbeats are perfect.

But they tell me that the real concern comes in the third trimester. That’s when the babies’ weights can get out of control, and out of control diabetics tend to have bigger babies. We want the babies to have healthy weights so that they make it to term. It gets crowded in there, and having larger babies can cause premature birth. (Please check with a doctor for medical advice on all matters related to diabetes and pregnancy. I’m not a doctor or a nurse, and am merely sharing my experiences.)

So what this all means is that although I felt liberated in the world of eating and began to splurge, I still need to watch my diet. Gain weight in a measured and steady way. For my health and the babies’ health.

Alas, with the weight gain, many body issues have surfaced. My feelings of being fat and huge have only been exaggerated since gaining pregnancy weight. And that little ounce of liberation felt so good.

How can I feel liberated all the time? Whether I’m trying to gain weight for the babies or whether I’m trying to keep a healthy weight when I’m not pregnant? Shouldn’t I always feel good about my body?

This is a big topic for me, I must admit. I think many diabetics go through body issues. How do you love your body when you are told that you need machines, medicine, and doctors to keep it going?

I can’t say that I’m an expert on this topic. I’d say I’m still learning, but I have come a long way from where I used to be. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

Compassion and gratitude are the keys.

There are ways to bring these feelings into your life, into my life. But from my experience, it requires daily work. Otherwise, the old habits and patterns of thought come back very easily. And that's where I think my current lesson is.

Let's start with how I have developed compassion in my life. According to psychologist Dr. Matthew McKay, Ph.D. and Patrick Fanning, authors of “Self Esteem”, compassion comes through three steps: understanding, acceptance, and forgiveness.

First, you must understand why you feel the way you feel, where you are coming from, how you were conditioned to have those thoughts. In the case of a Type 1 diabetic, it may come from the stress of managing a chronic illness. It also may come from societal expectations, not only magazines with super skinny movie stars on the cover, but also the media discourse surrounding why people become diabetic. Let’s face it: Most media messages say that people become diabetic because they are overweight. And if you just lose that weight, you’ll be cured. Well, that’s not true in all cases, and it’s not true at all for Type 1 diabetics. But we still have to hear repeated messages that say just that on TV – quite often. It’s got to affect our body image, in my opinion.

Second is accepting that we are human, and we are all just trying to survive in the best way we know how. I’m sure you didn’t choose to have diabetes. I know I didn’t. But I have it. And I have a choice – take care of it and myself, or not. Accepting that you have diabetes, or whatever ailment whether physical or emotional, is so crucial to managing a disease.

Third is forgiveness. I used to be my own worst enemy, until I understood and accepted myself better. Then, I learned to forgive myself. That is liberating.

You can work on those three steps through journaling, meditation, talking with a therapist or a trusted friend, and so on. (Please consult with a doctor if you are feeling depressed or anxious. They will know best how to guide you.)

And then there’s gratitude. I started keeping a gratitude journal a year or so ago, after going through the stages of compassion. I write ten things that I’m grateful for most days of the week. It changes my day, and my attitude. Toward myself – and others. It’s really hard to feel bad about your body, or anything for that matter, when you are feeling grateful for them. It is impossible to feel bad about your body and grateful for your body at the same time. The two feelings cannot possibly co-exist.

All of these things, plus listening to doctors, diet, exercise, meditation, and so on, have made me love my body more. And as I said, I still have work to do on this one.

I’m grateful for this pregnancy for making me even more aware of it. I have gotten a taste of liberation, and now it’s time to make it a daily part of my life.