2020 Wrap Up

 In a year that had a lot of hardship, I want to reflect here on how many good things happened in my life.  

1.  I (mostly) kept my job.  There were a few months where I did not have work, but I fought my way through the closures and was able to keep both my physical therapist job for the school system as well as my physical therapist job for the hospital and finish the year out strong.  Even though I would love to be a stay-at home mom, I feel incredible gratitude that I am able to work.   

Oh, and maybe a small other side passion emerged....more to come!

2.  There were school changes.  Luke started a new daycare, and we couldn't be happier.  Isla had a mix of virtual school and in-person school, and we all did our best to make it work.  It didn't seem ideal, but maybe the extra time she was able to have at home will be one of the wonderful things that comes out of this year.  I am grateful for the extra time with my children, and grateful they have had some opportunity to see friends in person at school.  

This kid here...never cried a bit.  Practically jumped into Ms. Brittany's arms every day.  Happy boy!  

"Art Class" 

3.  I was able to continue to coach soccer, and this is something that I am glad I have been able to continue to share with young athletes.  In the near future, I will be passing this on to other coaches, but I am thankful for the opportunity I have had to share my love for sport with these girls.  

4.  I found races.  At a time when racing was few and far between, I still managed to race 9 times this year.  It was quite the racing my way into shape I had hoped, but it gave me something to look forward to.    I am grateful there were opportunities for me to run with others.  

5.  I did improve.  It wasn't dramatic.  It is harder and I am slower than I was after my first baby.  I still have a long way to go.  But, I did improve.  I am grateful I am able to still run.  

6.  I have a 1-year-old and a 7-year-old.  My kids are healthy, and I love them so much.  I am so grateful for another year with them.  

I am hoping everyone is able to close out the year happy and healthy, with excitement to the new year and more time with those that we love.  

I

Racing In The Time of Covid

Why race postpartum?  It....

1.  Decreases isolation

2. Forces a harder effort 

3. Takes a bit more guilt away from running.  You can't just cut your run short and run home to take care of the baby!

4.  If done consistently, gives you a way to see a little progress, when day to day training can be so variable postpartum dependent on sleep, breastfeeding, hormones, and constant physical changes.  

I used the "race my way into shape" plan post Isla, and it worked well.  This time, not so much.  There were many reasons for this, including the loss of actual racing in person.  I also raced 14 times post Isla in the first year vs 6 times post Luke.   But here is what I did do in the past 11 months to create some race experiences and the progress I have seen this year.

October - January:  NO running for 12 weeks.  This was a much longer time than I took with Isla, but I had more damage after this delivery.

February:  Mardi Gras 5k.  My first 3 miles non-stop.  27:50 (8:55 pace)

February:  Atlanta 5k.  Much hillier and harder 5k, but making progress.  26:29 (8:33 pace)

Publix Atlanta 5k

March:  Covid-19 starts cancelling races 

April:  Virtual Crescent City Classic 10k/ "The Corona 10k:  Running the Social Distance:"    My first and only virtual race.  Virtual racing is not a favorite format for me, but since I had already signed up for the original race, I invited some girls from my neighborhood to run a 10k with me, and we called it The Corona 10k.  I really wanted a CCC10k poster from the race, and I knew I had to submit a time under 55 minutes.  I found a friend that was just the right pace to stay about 50 yards ahead of me and let me try to keep catching her.   I got my poster, even though it was an odd way to get it.  Next year I am getting one in person!  53:57 (8:40 pace)

"Running the Social Distance 10k"  

Just starting to figure out this whole social distance thing.   

June: Q50 Run to the Hills 10 trail mile run:  Trail 10 miler- first time to run the distance.  Slight negative split which always makes me happy.

Run to the Hills 10 miler:  Dave legitimately beats me, again.  And while I still hold all of the overall house records and overall wins vs Dave, I know this brings him some small pleasure to see me so far behind.  Ha ha!!!

July:  The Siege 12+++ trail mile run:  This was the race that reminded me that as a postpartum, breastfeeding mom I needed to eat and drink constantly in 100 degree heat index.  I kind of pooped out at the end of this one with dehydration, but had fun nonetheless.

Legit time trial, masked, social distance start on the trails.  At least we got to run with other people!

August:  Q50 Races Bleau Moon 10 mile trail run:  Night time 10 mile on the trails.   I am solidly mid pack still and no where near placing, but this I finally felt like I was pushing as working as hard as I could the whole time, which was rewarding.

Heading out for my night time trail race.  Dad gets to stay home with the kiddos.  Yay!!!!

This season was obviously not ideal for many reasons.  By 11 months postpartum my first go around, I was back to racing triathlon and my running races were much, much faster.  I think I had already completed 3 half marathons and 1 marathon by this point!  (plus a whole lot of other races!)  

BUT, this time around, I have also spent a lot of time with Luke and enjoyed my baby.  I also did not force myself to train through the New Orleans summer, which somehow is worse than a Memphis summer.  I have also slept in many mornings with Luke.  I gave myself some grace.  So, I am slower, but I am also not overcooked or burning my mom candle at both ends.  

And lastly, I am carrying around a lot of extra weight still.  Is is breastfeeding hormones?  Is it my 42 years of age and my hormonal changes and night sweats?  Is it lack of sleep?  Is my decent diet just not good enough anymore and I need to be way better?  Is it the muscle loss I have experienced?  OR is it just that I gained so much weight this pregnancy it is going to be really hard to get it all off (45# if you are wondering)?  I am trying to be gentle on myself, do good things everyday to nudge myself in the right direction, give myself more time, and give myself a pat on the back for not giving up.  

Last race for the completion of my first year postpartum coming up in 2 weeks.  It is a little 5k, and I just hope to be faster and more comfortable than I was with my first 5k.  I'll put a little report up, and hopefully I will feel encouraged that even though this recovery and return is taking much longer my second time around, it is still moving in the right direction.  

Luke: A Birth Story Part 2

(Seriously Luke is 7 months now, but I am determined to get most of this story down!)

My doula finally located a wheelchair for me and they quickly got me into a room.  I am checked and the nurse says I am at 8cm/90% effaced. It is not as far along as I want to be, but transition is here and that is good.  At this point I cannot lie down the back pain is exquisite.  I just knew Luke was sunny side up and I was having back labor.

Here is where I think hospitals tend to start to let women down.  It is clear the baby is not in a great position and I am in incredible pain.  Because I was a VBAC, they "have" to put monitors on me.  More specifically, they do not have the technology available to do this in a comfortable way for the mom.  One nurse in particular, who has been there all day and is getting ready to leave her shift, is really rough and gruff with me.  I tell her I cannot lie down, and she insists that she can only get the monitor on me if I lie down.  This is not true, but it may be true for her.  She can't seem to figure it out and forces me to lie down even though I beg and beg her to put it on me sitting up.  (It is literally just a strap that goes across my stomach- think HR strap).

She is almost yelling at me with complete impatience and forces me down on my back.  I proceed to throw up everywhere.  Ha!  Told you I couldn't lie down, damn it! At this time, the doc walks in.

He is not nearly as VBAC friendly as he was in the 9 months prior.  He is intolerant of my crying and pain, much like the nurses.  He instantly starts talking second c-section.  He checks me and reports I am at 6cm with zero progress from that morning office visit.  He says he isn't happy.

There is just no way that is possible.  No way.  It is incredibly obvious something is different from the morning office visit till now.  Plus I just measured at 8cm an hour ago!  Is this what Ina May Gaskin is talking about where environment can stall labor?  I was just yelled at a ton, I already hate this place, and now they say I am not progressing anymore and have regressed?

But mostly, how is this my fault and why do I deserve a c-section out of it?  NO WAY I think.

And here comes the bargaining.

The doctor isn't about to let me cry, moan, and scream all day long in the hospital.  I can't stop doing all three.  I also cannot lie down, which is making them all mad.  I am in so much pain but I see very clearly as well how all of this- the environment, the people, the attitudes-  is contributing to poor outcomes for the birth.

So, I agree to the epidural if he agrees to give me a significant amount of time- the full time I am supposed to get entering the hospital.

The epidural actually works.  I can lie down.  It is not that I don't feel anything.  I feel every contraction every 3 minutes.  It is just that I don't need to throw up every time now.  PLUS, all of the nurses finally leave me alone.

This is clearly after the epidural.   

I feel like I have completely made a bargain with the devil and I am going to lose.  Here I am, agreeing to the epidural.  Next it will be the pitocin.  And on and on.  But what were my choices really?  In those moments I couldn't be sure.  But unlike my experience having my first kid, I am now a 41-year-old mom and I know how to stand up for myself a bit better.

My doula had told me earlier in the week that if I wanted to deliver this baby vaginally, I alone would  have to make it happen.  She presented it in a way that I had never heard before.  No one wanted the vaginal delivery like I did, and no one was going to help me the way I thought they were.  She told me I literally had to make it happen.  I had to push the baby out.

Seems like I should know that, but let me tell you it felt different this time with the way she presented it to me.  I finally understood that when no one would help me I truly had to help myself.  It was incredibly powerful.

 Ya'll, I hadn't slept in 4 days.  4!!!!!  And my husband just nods right off while I am laboring.   If I needed a sip of water I swear he wouldn't get it for me because he was snoring.  Lol!

So, I labor through the night.  Nothing really changes.  1 min contractions 3 minutes apart without pitocin.  When they add the pitocin it stays the same, so they take me off of it.  I am flat on my back just praying that something will make my water break.  I am supposedly stuck at 8 cm.

I have new nurses now, and they are great.  However, they tell me the doctor will give me a c-section if I don't start making some progress, and they are pretty concerned.  I look them straight in the eye and I tell them that they HAVE TO HELP ME HAVE THIS BABY.  I want them to use every trick in the book, every bit of training they have every received.  I don't need someone to read my BP cuff.  I need someone to position me and coach me.  And next.....

Luke: A Birth Story: Part 1

Luke is the piece to our family puzzle we were missing, and  we are so happy he is here.  We tried for almost 3.5 years to get pregnant, so having him here is such a blessing.

Yet here I am, 6 months later, and I haven't even put his birth story down on paper.  I seriously don't know where to start, so I am just going to start with labor.

Isla was an unplanned C -section after my "failed" home birth.  Home birth was not an option to me in Louisiana as a VBAC, so I had to make hospital plans.  I can't tell you how much I dislike a lot of hospital practices as it pertains to labor and birth.  Maybe I can.  I really, really dislike it.  Pretty much everything I have read that is research based on birth is not honored at hospitals.  Anyhoooo, I didn't have a choice so I made the best of it.

1.  I got a doula, again.  And this was a very expensive investment but worth every penny to me.

2.  I got a VBAC friendly doctor.  Well, he was VBAC friendly until he wasn't, but that is another post.

So, let me let this post be about labor, which lasted 5 days for me.  That is not a typo.

I was past due date and knew my baby was coming soon.  I was still trying to do things to stay active like coach soccer and walk  waddle daily.  I really struggled in the summer heat of New Orleans, and by the last week I could hardly walk the 4 blocks to pick up Isla from school.

The Thursday before I had Luke, I took Isla to ballet and planned to do my walk while she was in class.  From there, I would take her to soccer practice and coach.  I started to have contractions that were worth timing, and they were about 5 minutes apart.  I called Dave for some help, sent him and Isla to soccer, and went home to labor.  I was pretty darn sure I would have a baby in my arms at least by morning.

That night, labor got really intense.  I was up all night with painful contractions every 5 minutes, but they never got closer together.  I was worried I wouldn't know when to go to the hospital, and for a VBAC, I knew I needed to wait as long as I could.  I could feel things shifting and dilating, and labor was intense.

But then it stopped.  Around 2 or 3 am, contractions backed off to 20 minutes apart.

Without describing every single day, let me just say this pattern occurred Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  From the late afternoon to early morning, I would have contractions that lasted a minute and were 5 minutes apart.  They would get stronger and stronger to the point they were unbearable and my doula would help me labor, but they never got to that magic 3 minute apart number.  During the day, they would be present but not progressive.  I pretty much got zero sleep for 5 days and cried a lot.  I could not have gotten through this time without my doula Gina, who would stay up with me and help me labor.  I am telling you, best money spent- if you are thinking about getting one, do it.

Isla helped me labor, the sweet girl.  Watching me labor all of those days was really hard on her.  She still talks about how upset it makes her to see me cry.  

Prodromal labor?

Like my doula said- something was happening.  Whatever the label is, my body was working hard.  If you have this, I got ya girl.  It is terrible.  It is the labor that never ends.  We knew something was happening, but we also knew something was stopping it as well.   It was like he was trying to descend and then would stop after hours of trying.  I started to worry he was in the wrong position.  (he was)

When Monday came, I went in to the doctor.  I was having contractions all day long by this point and could barely walk.  When he checked, I was 6cm and 80% effaced.  We decided I should go walk more (as if I could) and then check into the hospital.

This is Dave and I trying to walk the baby out of me.  I said, "hey!  Let's take a picture of the two of us because this may be the last time we are alone for a long time.  Lol!"  TRUTH! 

We walked around the neighborhoods by the hospital until I was just in too much pain.  But I still didn't feel the contractions had progressed to that magical 2-3 minute in between mark, so I had Dave take me home so I could call our doula and get everything ready.  Gina came over to help me, and the contractions stopped for 20 minutes.  I was so over this.  I was exhausted and frustrated.  And I was in so much pain people.  So much pain.  For days.  

And then, all of a sudden, I was yelling for everyone to get me to the hospital.  It was time.  I couldn't bear the pain and something had changed.  We made some tactical errors, like trying to get me to the hospital in 5pm rush hour traffic.  We also had Isla with us.  What I thought would be a fun family experience was a mistake for sure.  

I was in the backseat with Isla, puking on the way to the hospital and bawling my eyes out.  Basically I was moaning, screaming, and puking.  What an experience for her.  

And then I had to walk to the second floor of the hospital down these long halls.  No one brought me a wheelchair.  I could barely stand.  I could only walk a few feet before a contraction would hit.  I was crying and crying.  That walk was a terrible experience.  Employees of the hospital just kept walking by me.  My doula was trying to find a wheelchair.  No one would help.  OMG!!!!!  

But anyways, once there, the story just gets more intense, worse, and better.  It was everything.