The Things I Think

I recently have made a pretty tough, but also easy?, decision. I recently (well, I guess it was about 2 weeks ago) learned that my old position at Sycamore was going to be available as an internal posting. The woman who was hired when I took my leave of absence last year got a teaching job.

I always thought if my old position was up for grabs again, I would immediately get to work on whatever I needed to do to try to get it back. Yet when that became reality, I hesitated. Not because I doubted whether or not my heart wanted to go back there, but because of the relationships and attachments that have been formed at Horizon. I have become attached to the kids I work with, which usually happens.

I sat on my couch and thought. And prayed. Called my mom. Talked to Sean. Talked to a few friends. Thought and prayed more.

Ultimately I decided to submit my resume and letter of interest. I turned it in the next day with anxiety but excitement at the possibility of being reunited with my Trenchies.

It's not gonna happen. Life isn't going to calm down for me. I've had to face that my life will be like this always. Pretty much. Until Sean and I are empty nesters. Right now I'm working, have a kid, and I'm in school. One day I will be doing those things except working as a teacher (more work to do outside of the normal work day than I have to do now as a para) and probably continuing on to graduate school...at some point. Oh, and throw a second kid into the mix hopefully some time in the late fall/early winter of 2014.

It's been hard adjusting to being back at work. And school. And photography. And Roan. And my husband. And church. I've been struggling with anxiety & (try to remember to) take St. John's Wort and valerian root to try to help with that. Problem is, with everything I have to do and remember in the morning, I often forget to take it. Then I wonder later when I feel like a mess emotionally.

I put a lot of pressure on myself. Probably more than I realize. I see how messy and disorganized my house is and I think "I'm a terrible wife and mom."

I should be able to do it all.

I should be able to keep it all together.

Why can't I keep it all together? What's wrong with me? Why can't my house be perfectly clean and ready for company at any given moment? Why can't we have a home-cooked dinner every night? Why can't I work out for an hour each day, have perfect make up, and wear nice clothes every day with my hair straightened or styled in some cute Pinterest-worthy way?

I wake up at 6:15am. I have to have down time in the morning. It really is vital for me. When life is less-crazy, I can wake up earlier to work out, but I need my time to sit and watch the news for a bit.

Then it's time to wake Roan up. Get him fed. Feed myself if I didn't before (but usually I have). Get myself ready if I haven't already. Pack my lunch. Make sure his bag for daycare has everything. Take the trash out if it's Monday, Wednesday, or Friday. Get him dressed (this is usually last minute, literally right before we walk out of the door at 7:45ish). Coats need to be put on - for him and myself - if it's cold outside. Oh, and we gotta grab owl-blanket. He won't nap without it.

Buckling him into the car seat is usually a whole ordeal...especially if he wasn't wearing his coat the last time he was in it...the straps need to be loosened and tightened. This is if I can get him to let go of owl-blanket for two stinkin' seconds to get his arm  through the straps. The car usually isn't warmed up because I hadn't had the time. Then we're off. I'm lucky if I haven't forgotten my lunch or phone.

I stay after work most days for at least an hour to get some homework done. That has been helping tremendously. I still have to do homework at night, naturally, since I usually have to read at least 2-3 chapters each week, post on the discussion boards 3 days a week (posts must be "substantive"), and usually have at least one 1,000-1,250 word essay due Sunday. Most weeks I have one other short assignment due.

I volunteer at church, not as much as I'd like to, though. And if I have a photoshoot (or two or three) on the weekend, it's even more crazy. Cause then I have to add processing the photos, uploading for clients, and making discs if they chose that, to the already insanely long to-do list during the week.

To be honest...something's gotta give. And it's probably gonna be photography. I'm not going to quit. I'm not gonna flip-flop like that..."I'm taking a break,"..."I'm back!"..."I'm quitting." I'm just going to do shoots when I feel I have the time. When I feel I can handle it. It might not be often, if ever. We'll see. But I need to sacrifice something and everything else in my life is not negotiable.

If anyone reads this, I just need prayer. I need a lot of prayer. I need to stop putting so much pressure on myself and I also need strength.

It was a hot, but beautiful day, even with a little rain mixed in (but that's good luck!). The ceremony was beautiful and I struggled to choke back tears during the first dance, father-daughter dance, and mother-son dance!

I gotta admit...after shooting this wedding, I am seriously contemplating coming back from my hiatus, but changing a bit of what I'm going to focus on. I know I want to at least try a birth session (like...in the delivery room), but I need to find willing subjects. If anyone knows someone who'd be interested, send them my way! Just Facebook me or email me at mwhitephoto@gmail.com.

April is c-section awareness month.

This is not a "feel bad for me, I had a c-section" post. It is not a "my story is a cautionary tale" post. The fact of the matter is if it weren't for c-sections and the technology available, I believe neither me or my son would be alive today.

I see how people get up-in-arms about c-section vs. natural birth. I'm not gonna do that. I just want to talk about my experience, where I'm at with it now, and how it will impact my future decisions (when we have another child - Lord willing).

If you want to read Roan's birth story, you can look here (<--link). If you don't want to read all the details and don't know the story, basically Roan was not going to make it out on his own due to a fibroid that was partially blocking the birth canal.

Yes, I was induced. My OB knew I didn't want to be induced and did all she could (giving me the lowest doses, starting out with everything but pitocin) to make Roan's birth as close to a natural birth as possible. My induction was not to blame for the c-section. Even after the pitocin, my contractions were very weak. My body was trying to say "Hey, this isn't gonna happen."

My c-section was listed as "failed induction". I know because I asked my OB. It made me wonder how many other c-sections were listed under that category when in reality it was more complicated than that.

There are statistics that show a link between inductions and c-sections. This appears to be proven true even just from the women I know who were induced. Most did result in a c-section, but certainly not all of them. I tend to think that what matters is a supportive OB.

The moment we decided to go with the c-section, I was calm about it. Me, my husband, my parents, and whoever else was in the room (I don't remember exactly) prayed before making the decision. I was calm once they started preparing me in the operating room. God just gave me a peace about it...peace that surpassed all understanding (even my own). Sean even asked me why or how I was so calm - I kept telling him it was going to be okay. At the risk of sounding like a crazy person, I felt God's presence in that room.

But after the birth, I mourned the loss of the vaginal birth I wanted. I cannot identify with other women who had vaginal births and experienced tearing, the moment the baby is born, or the pain of pushing. My only indication that Roan was out was hearing him cry. I couldn't see him until they brought him around the other side of the divider. I had stitches, too, but in a different place. I still feel like there are things I missed out on.

Ultimately, I have come to a place where I am grateful for my c-section. My c-section was not tragic. I love my scar! My scar means that Roan is here. He is healthy, super cute, and amazes me every day.

C-section awareness month to me is bringing awareness to the beauty of c-sections and their ability to save lives. Yes, complications can happen...it's a major surgery! Complications can also happen during vaginal births. Either way, having a baby poses risks (we can thank Eve for that one).

Will I try for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean)? No. Due to my medical history, it is very dangerous for me to have anesthesia because there's a chance I am allergic to it (this can be deadly). The risk of the uterine scar rupturing is not worth it to me. I have heard stories of this happening and the mother and/or baby almost not making it. I have heard of successful VBACs as well and I have total respect for them.

My baby and I being alive matters more to me than my selfish desires for a vaginal birth. I do want to do things a little differently next time, however. I want the baby to be placed on my chest before being wiped off. I want delayed cored cutting. A lot of the check-ups they do on the baby can be done while mom is holding the baby. I would like the birth to be as close to a vaginal birth as possible.

Expecting women should know the ins-and-outs of c-sections. I didn't know anything because a c-section was my greatest fear and I didn't want to even consider the thought of me having one. I wish I would have been more prepared emotionally. This is the major thing I want to tell pregnant women. Go for a natural birth if that's what you truly want. Do all you can to make that happen, but don't be so determined that you put you or your baby at risk. Be educated about c-sections and have a plan in place if you do have one because you never know. I didn't know I had a fibroid blocking the birth canal. It gets so crowded in there towards the end that the ultrasound tech and my OB couldn't see it. And know that if you do have a c-section, you are no less of a mother than a woman who had a vaginal birth. You still gave birth and don't let anyone tell you you didn't.