The Season Of No

I just started reading the book Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert and it has inspired me to get back to my writing and carve out more time for myself and look at my life in a very different way. Now that I'm 40 and terribly wise and terribly adult (cough), I can look back on my life through the decades (Dear God! Am I really that old?), and I can reflect on the themes of each decade.

My 20's was the decade of "Sure! Why Not!" 

Sometimes even, "Sure! Why The Hell Not?!" There was a lot that happened during my 20's that was a result of me thinking or saying, "Sure, why not?!" A lot of it provided the backdrop to many great memories. Looking back on it now, some of it fills me with incredible panic and fear and I thank God it all turned out OK in the end and some of it makes me long for those days again. Mostly because I didn't have kids back then so I was able to take a nap whenever I wanted. I long for the days of extra sleep, getting a good night's sleep, sleeping in, napping whenever I needed it, not getting woken up in the middle of the night by a baby who needed to nurse and just sleep, sleep, sleep in general.  Sleep, glorious sleep. However, I don't think I actually slept that much in my 20's. I am now regretting that I burned the candle at both ends so many days and nights. What was I thinking?!

My 30's kind of fell into the theme of, "I probably should..." 

Or "I guess I should," or "I really should because they did that nice thing for me once and don't I have to repay them even though I have to make great compromises in what I need or my family needs to help them?" Or "I feel like I have to even though I don't want to."  You get the idea.  Martyrdom at it's finest. There were many things I felt very obligated to do in my 30's, and I did them most of the time. Things for other people, things because of other people, things I didn't really want to do but felt like I had to. Mom's Club things are coming to mind as well as lots and lots of volunteer work at school.  Even when I was sick as a dog and incredibly run-down from being pregnant in my first trimester.

Now that I'm 40, I'm starting a new chapter. This is the decade of, "No." 

A polite no, but no nonetheless. Polite yet emphatic. How that will actually end up looking I'm not sure, but I'm no longer going to put myself into the position of feeling obligated or put out because I don't want someone to think bad of me. Even if doing the thing makes me feel bad about myself. I'm not going to risk letting my children down or my husband down or myself down because I don't want to let a stranger down. How ridiculous is that? Yet it happens. I'm no longer going to feel like I need to please other people just for that person's sake, even if I care deeply about them. Whether that person is a stranger, an acquaintance, a parent on the PTA, a friend, a family member, a fellow mom in a mom's group, a therapist whom I'm paying to help me vent and work things out, even someone who has done something nice for me in the past and wants a favor from me, whoever. I am no longer going to feel obligated to do something for someone regardless if it works for me, fits in with what my family is doing or going through at that time. And that needs to be ok.

Actually, I'm giving myself permission that it is OK, and it doesn't need to be OK with anyone, because it's already OK with me.

Sorry for the overuse of italics during my ah-ha moment of clarity there. But if you've ever been a people pleaser, like I was raised to be, then you are totally nodding your head in agreement with me right now. You might have even blurted out a, "hell yea! Me too!"  If you did, please let me know in the comments that I'm not on this journey alone. And neither are you.

I'm giving myself the permission to be more selfish with my own time and desires because I know deep down that it will make me a better mother and a better person in the long run. I'm not doing anyone any favors by getting run down and depleting everything I have inside of me just to do someone a favor or even return a favor, or to protect someone's feelings or to make sure someone still likes me and doesn't think bad of me. A therapist told me once when she knew I was doing too much for too many people (including my own family) and not taking any time for myself to recharge, "Put your oxygen mask on first, Mama. That's the only way you can help your children and be a better mother and wife is if you put your mask on first."

I'm still figuring out how to do that.  I need to find the balance of taking care of myself and taking care of the kids and getting everything done. As a stay-at-home-mom I really feel the need to carve out my own time or else it just doesn't happen. I will post about it as soon as I start doing it. I also look forward to reading more of Big Magic and putting her thoughts and ideas into action. I love Elizabeth Gilbert (author of many books, Eat, Pray, Love, The Signature Of All Things, etc.) Please let me know how you do it for yourself. What does taking care of yourself look like to you?  Comment below!

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This Is My Motherhood: Mundane Monday Morning

Nursing and nursing and nursing the baby

My life once again as full-time milk lady. 

Turning off lights

Putting out fights

Ballet today. 

Better find shoes and tights.

Reminding kids about making good choices.

Reminding kids to use inside voices.

"Everybody go outside!"

"Careful at the top of the slide!"

"Stop fighting!"

Baby's biting-

    everything in sight. 

Teeth coming in-

"Rub their gums with gin?!"

Ridiculous, crazy, outdated advice!

Found out that our playgroup has lice.

Springtime breakfast picnic outside. 

From the bathroom I'm aware the baby just cried. 

...Another fish died?

Mama doing chore after chore. 

"Be as loud as you guys want as long as you close the door!"

Laundry and dishes piled up to ceilings

Reminding me of those PPD feelings. 

Buying food, 

     prepping food, 

          cooking food,

               serving food,

                    "Eat your food."

                    “I don’t want food.”

               clearing food, 

          storing food, 

     freezing food, 

wiping up food. 

"...Mama, I'm hungry."

“I’m too hot.” 

“I’m too cold.” 

“This tag is scratchy.” 

“My bread has mold.” 

“We need more milk.” 

Always running out of milk. 

Over the years I've produced millions of gallons of milk, but

"Who drank all the milk?!”

"He's laughing too loud!"

"She's breathing my air!"

"He looked out my window!"

"You're not playing fair!"

"Mommy, will daddy be home from work soon?"

I could swear it was 3 but its not even noon. 

Kids are fighting, 

baby's drooling and biting, 

tantrums

crying

Mother's Day flowers dying

"Did you break that?"

"She did it!"

"No I didn't, he's lying!"

Nursing and nursing and nursing once again. 

Thinking of rubbing my own gums with gin. 

-Colleen Duncan Canavan


What does your Motherhood look like?  Please join in and write your own Motherhood inspired poem and include the hashtag(s) below.  We can celebrate Mother's Day all year long.  

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#ThisIsMyMotherhood

Please join us in sharing your story. Read about the Mother's Day inspired writing prompt here.

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My Journey To Motherhood: My Water Baby

The birth of my second baby was so moving it was like a rebirth of my soul and a newfound belief in myself and what I was capable of. Although my first birth was beautiful, I didn't feel prepared despite taking a birthing class. During labor I went to a very dark place deep inside myself, feeling so scared and isolated in my pain not even my husband or mother could penetrate it. Not knowing if I was capable of giving birth on my own, I felt like the pain would keep escalating until I was going to die because I didn't think it would end. I knew without a doubt I never wanted to feel that again. I wanted to experience a positive birth but I didn't think they existed. Then I saw “The Business Of Being Born.” My daughter was one week old and we watched the film that would eventually change our lives in so many ways and completely effect how our second baby would be born 2 ½ years later.

I longed for a birth like I saw in the film but I didn't know where to begin, so I started writing “My Ultimate Dream Birth.” In this wish list I threw everything out the window that would get in the way of my dream, like insurance and money issues, my husband's and my fears, family concerns, societal pressure and I wrote what my heart wanted. I discovered that I wanted a water birth with a midwife and a doula, I wanted to prepare for an unmedicated birth by taking The Bradley Method, and I wanted to feel strong, empowered, confident and capable. I had this beautiful story that seemed like a fairy tale because I didn't know how to make it a reality.

I became extremely ill with persistent bronchitis that would plague me throughout my entire first trimester making it hard to do the research needed to find an alternative birth plan on top of taking care of a busy toddler. We moved when our daughter was almost a year old so I needed to find a new OBGYN. After expressing my wishes for a natural birth during a second trimester appointment, my new doc said I'd “be crazy for not taking perfectly good drugs (epidural) that have zero effect on the baby” and that, “No one was handing out gold stars for having a non-medicated birth.” 

That was my last appointment with the new doc. 

I was 26 weeks pregnant. 

The scene from the documentary kept playing over in my mind where Ricki was saying, “It wasn't an illness, it wasn't something that needed to be numbed, it needed to be experienced...” I needed that experience. 

Immediately, I started to look for birthing centers and I found South Coast Midwifery in Irvine. I cried looking at the pictures of these strong women confidently birthing their babies and knew I found what I was looking for. We loved SCM. By the second appointment they knew my name where before I was a number and after 26 weeks my doctor didn't even recognize me in the hallway before our final appointment. I was excited at the chance at having my dream birth at home.

The morning before my due date I lost my mp. I ran errands despite the fact that things felt different. Around 5pm I started having very steady contractions so it was time to head home! My parents took our daughter to their house, my husband started filling up the birthing tub and I paced the house feeling busy and restless. My contractions were becoming so fast and furious and extremely painful they took me by surprise and I had those fleeting moments of, “Uh-oh! What did I get myself into?” I felt frantic as my husband realized he needed to start filling the tub with warmer water and was running back and forth from the tub to where ever I happened to be crouching when I'd yell for him during a contraction. My doula quickly arrived and once in the tub I felt calm, relaxed. Flickering candlelight filled the room with songs from my labor playlist. (We still did not know if we were having a boy or a girl!) My eyes had been closed for quite some time, I was in my own world humming to the music and groaning with each contraction. It felt like it was helping to take away the pain by pushing it out of my body in low, gravely groans as opposed to holding it in, holding my breath. It was not the hysterical, out-of-control screams seen on TV that condition women into thinking this is what's expected during labor. These were deep, primal and somewhat animalistic.

The room was still yet active. There were no constant beeps from various machines, no light piercing my loosely closed eyes, no cords tethering me to IV's and heart monitors keeping me from the movements I needed to make. No hospital protocol keeping me from eating and drinking what I needed to remained energized. There was no pressure to perform during anyone's time frame in order for my wishes to be granted. It was me kneeling in a tub of warm water, my head buried in the chest of my strong husband who never left my side. My doula was slowly pouring water on my back and massaging the pain away with her fists and my midwife and assistant who arrived around midnight were setting up what medical equipment they might or might not need.

Just then things started to change...

“Are you ready to catch your baby?”

My midwife asked after only pushing for a short amount of time. Those were the most powerful words I had ever heard. After one last push at 12:49am out spiraled this huge, pink baby hurling it's chubby body into my arms where I brought it up out of the water to my chest and my lips, “my baby, my baby!” I beamed over and over flashing me back to the birth of my daughter. My husband and I held our sweet baby for quite sometime crying and smiling, admiring our perfect angel. As my husband turned around to get the video camera I realized I still did not know the sex! Pulling the baby away from my chest I looked down and in amazement I exclaimed, “It's a boy! It's a boy!” I'll never forget the look on my husband's face as he quickly turned around to meet my eyes asking in disbelief, “It's a boy?” He peered over my shoulder and exclaimed, “It's a boy!” A whopping 10 pound, 21 inch bouncing baby boy who helped me achieve my ultimate dream birth. My water baby has inspired me to dare to be great and he has melted my heart ever since. 


To read more about my home water birth experience, click here. 

To read more about my water birth experience

For more information about:

Water Birth

The Business Of Being Born
Ina May Gaskin

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*This was originally posted on February 16, 2012 at BlogHer.com and was an entry into a contest put on by Ricki Lake and BlogHerMoms called Journey To Motherhood. We were asked to describe our own journey. This was 1 out of 4 entries I wrote for the contest.