My daughter turned one (52 weeks, 12 months, 365 days old) on Saturday. That means we celebrated our one year parent-versary (yep, I made that one up). I’ve found a lot of ways to try and document each week, month or whenever I had time to really sit still and write coherently. I started writing letters to her in a journal before she was born. In anticipation of this day, I created a little Google Photos album of all the videos starting with her 20wk ultrasound until now. And I created a TinyBeans account, though that one has been growing cobwebs for the past few months (I’ll hop back on it soon).

This past year has been fascinating. Are there really any words to truly describe the first few years of parenthood? Ok, sure, there’s “fatigue”, “confusion”, “shock”, “sleep deprivation”, “where’s the babysitting clause in the hospital return policy,” but I’m talking about the words to accurately describe that exact moment when you first see your baby, when you first hear your baby cry and when you first hold your baby. If you’ve figured it out, leave me a message so I can expand my vocabulary.

Prior to giving birth, a lot of women would tell me that “you forget the pain,” and to that I disagree. There’s no way I’m forgetting that pain. My Godmom said it well, “you definitely don’t forget the pain, but your baby distracts you from it once you hold it in your arms. Once again, there really are no words. I officially went into labor shortly after 1am on Thursday, November 8th and as someone who suffered, yes suffered from unbearable cramps, I was convinced that this labor pain thing would be a “walk in the park.” Nope, nada, nah! How would I describe it? It’s like a grizzly bear is mauling your uterus. Ok and it’s taking a few breaks in between chews. But, your uterus is flexible and tough and doesn’t break down. It’s like gum, so the grizzly bear is chewing and chewing with no end in sight. And it intensifies it’s chewing because it’s convinced that the longer it goes, the easier it becomes. Except, you’re struggling because it’s not getting easier for you. And it burns. It burns as if the grizzly bear carried hot sauce in its bag and decided to sprinkle some on your uterus with each bite (lawd). [disclaimer: every woman is different and so is every pregnancy]. So, I’m going through these, “waves,” as my Mama Natural online birth class calls them and the further we go along, I’m being brought under tow.

I was on the couch when I KNEW this was IT. All that week I had been battling cramps and the typical discomfort and was downstairs sleeping on the couch because I couldn’t get a comfortable position in my bed. Well, after throwing a “wake up” shoe at the bedroom door to get Chris to start running bath water, I thanked God that the hospital bag, which contained more stuff than I actually used, was already packed and in the car. Eventually I found myself in my bathtub, which is deep and wide as if The Almighty knew I would need it “for such a time as this”. My poor husband, who was confident that he would get sleep, is in bed (because I told him to rest - don’t jump on him). But of course no one, not even the neighbor, is getting rest at this hour. My labor and delivery playlist, which I had been developing for months, was set to one of my favorite series of hour long arrangements.

Fast Forward a few hours past our first visit to the hospital when I discover was only 2 or 3cm dilated and drove home to a beautiful rainbow in the sky. Fast forward, past the rainy, pre-baby walk in our neighborhood to help with labor, past the realization that my cramps were getting stronger and closer. My initial goal was to go all natural. No epidural, no nothing just surf into pregnancy like a warrior. And by my 18th hour of labor, all of that naturally went out the window. My daughter was not coming out without making me work for it. And I just wanted to get some rest to be ready for the “main event.”

Joke was on me, because a) I got the epidural (easy peasy) and it numbed 90% of my right leg and 65% of my left leg; and b) my right leg was SO NUMB that it felt like dead weight. Y’all, this was SO DISTRACTING that I couldn’t help but wonder how long before the sensation would wear off. I never rested. The only position that really helped me to stay sane and not ask for them to saw off my leg, was “goddess” pose. That’s how I describe it because I was sitting upright in my bed with my covered legs positioned in butterfly pose like a deity waiting to receive and answer prayers. But what I needed was for my prayers for sleep to be answered. I got a modicum of rest, but nothing close to what I hoped for. Lavender was doing her own thing in my womb, and in all of her luxuriating, I remember throwing all of my natural birthing mantras, affirmations and acronyms out of the window.

My first doctor, Dr. S, who had been slammed with a lot of births in an otherwise quiet L&D department, was so patient. I distinctly remember asking her “what was taking so long?” and “so, at what point am I eligible for a C-section because the goal is to get the baby out right?” I’m glad she didn’t listen to me.

And when it came to adjusting my epidural, I turned into a prosecuting attorney with the anesthesiologist that night like I was Kamala Harris at a Congressional hearing, “So you mean to tell me that this doesn’t get rid of the pain? So what’s the point? Why am I in pain, why can’t you just go into my anatomy, figure out which nerve is acting up and tweak the formula.” God bless ‘em all!

I don’t know if I ever went to sleep but I do know my labor and delivery experience lasted for 34hours. We were at it for so long that Dr. S had to switch out. Again, I’m so glad she didn’t listen to my foolish request for an unnecessary C-section.

Side note:

When I first arrived in Spain, I scheduled an appointment with OB/GYN office to talk about my dreadful uterine fibroids and how to treat them. I had been battling them (read: struggling in agonizing pain) since our time in Bahrain and needed a resolution. When I found out I was pregnant, I got the biggest hug from Dr. R, who I first met in March of 2017 to discuss possible fibroid surgery. I found out I was pregnant the week I was to go in for a surgery consult and the rest is history. Naturally I wanted her to deliver my daughter because she knew and was part of my story of healing. Because she was running the NY marathon around my due date, I had a tiny window with which to work. To this day, I still think that Lavender also wanted to be delivered by her, and that’s why she was stalling in my womb.

Well, hours later, after being wide awake for 24hrs I got to meet the love of my life and it was the best blind date that I could ever have gone on. Despite being sleep deprived since the week before giving birth, I still remember so much.”

“She’s got hair!,” Dr. R exclaimed as Lavender was crowning. Chris was right there too, fasting and praying, reciting scripture and breathing with me as I paused to humm deep with each wave. By this point, my epidural had worn off significantly and while my right leg was still significantly numb, I managed to have enough sensation in a way that helped me to push and breathe and finally welcome my 9 month tenant to the world.

I can’t help but get emotional reliving those moments. One day I’ll talk about all of the odd discomforts in that postpartum period, but for now, I’m going to highlight a few things that I’ve learned this past year. *Disclaimer: If you’re pregnant or a parent who has given birth, I know that painless births are a thing and my story is my own. Know that you will have a beautiful L&D experience. My OB/GYN later shared that one of the nurses called Lavender’s birth one of the most calm and peaceful L&D experiences she witnessed. So it all works out.

Be kind to yourself. I’m a big fan of “doing a lot” (read: the most) and I don’t know if it’s social conditioning that says, “the more (you do) the merrier) or my natural personality type. But I derive a type of pleasure in doing things and pursuing numerous projects at once. I’m sure I’ve been that way since I was a little girl or at least since I was 13. So to stop after 20 years was intense for me. I didn’t know how to. I’m finally embracing the truism that raising a child is a full time job.
Be kind to bae. Unless you’ve done this before, and neither of us have, we’re both figuring this out together. Which means there will be a learning curve and misunderstanding and learning each other again as you navigate your new normal. I tell all my engaged friends who are marrying for the first time to write a list of expectations with their future spouse and then discuss it or rip it up so that you’re not tempted to project expectations against someone’s reality. I would propose the same for new or even repeat parents entering new family dynamics (blended family, adoption, foster family, etc).
I don’t care for the phrase “stay at home” (SAHM) mom. I’m a mom, no qualifiers needed. Because whether I stay at home, which I chose to do after my work contract ended in January, or carry out a series of tasks that generate cash, I’m still a mom. I once heard someone say, we don’t qualify people’s jobs by saying, “she’s a work at the desk researcher” or “he’s a stay at home life coach” or “they’re a judge”. No, because where they do what they do is less relevant than what they actually do. So, I’m a mom who, at any given moment in this journey, might be raising my full time under our roof or full time from my company, but I’ll always be a full time mom.
Pay attention to your mental health and triggers. For several months, I found myself paying attention to any signs of postpartum anxiety and depression. While I didn’t experience the baby blues, I did feel off. Maybe that was the baby blues? And that’s natural and to be expected. This is not only one of THE BIGGEST life events, you’re now in charge of feeding, raising, protecting, guiding, loving on an entire human. And depending on a number of factors you may or may not feel like you can do it. Before I gave birth I had to talk with a therapist about my angst regarding another miscarriage. A cloud loomed over my first few months of pregnancy to where I couldn’t be as happy as I wanted for fear of another loss. After giving birth, I did talk with someone about my fears of losing my child (and myself) postpartum. It’s so important to talk to someone and I’m grateful for the other moms I talked with who helped me realize my concerns and thoughts were normal.
Embrace the body. No lies, I love the extra weight I gained, and maybe that’s just m. Sure, I’m not always a fan of how shirts cling to my turtle shell tummy, and those jeans now produce a muffin top. But I’ve been thin most of my life, and I’m fascinated with this “new body” that! I now have hips, and thighs and certain “assets” that I didn’t have before, I even have a sliver of a double chin. And once, I found myself playing with my newfound belly jelly like a kitten kneading a fat cat (or a fat cat kneading itself). I’m currently at the point of saying, “ok, let’s get in the gym chica!” but this wondrous body, that produced, nurtured, housed and now feeds an entire human, deserves to be celebrated, honored and loved. My fitness goals are centered on health and not cosmetic reasons, and because I’m trying to live to see my daughter turn up at 50 and show out at 60+ I’m going to work on my fitness. But I’m not trying to fit into my pre-baby clothes. That was the old me and I’m not driving backwards.
Ask for help. Point.blank.periodt. I’m one to usually shy away from help and say, “I don’t want to be a burden,” or “oh, they have their own troubles.” but I think I’ve accepted help and sought help now more than before. Especially since I’m thousands of miles and time zones from Stateside family and friends. Sure, other people have things to do, but embrace the vulnerability and the transformation that come with knowing that you don’t have to do it all and there are people willing to help you.
Be present. They do grow up so fast. It’s true. One minute my baby is resting square on my torso like a little bunny and the next minute she’s taking her first steps and babbling incoherent advice while brushing her hair. Wha?! I love watching her grow and I’m grateful for this time. Going back to point 1. I have to catch myself and make sure I don’t forget that raising our daughter is a full time endeavor and it’s ok that I’m still sorting through the new normal and new routine, this is my first year.
I don’t know how to sleep when the baby sleeps. Maybe I’ll figure it out one day, but I struggle with this one when there are dishes, laundry and other important things to take care of while the baby is sleeping.
Bonus: You don’t have to stop everything you once did to be a good parent (unless it’s illicit because c’mon). Sure you need to always have your child in mind with every decision you make, but babies are adaptable and the sooner you figure this out, the easier (possibly) it will be for you to enjoy what makes you you, with some minor tweaks. For example, I like socializing so now I’m a fan of playdates (when we can get schedules and nap times and personal showers figured out). And because we love to travel so much, Lavender is the President of the Olsonville Adventure Squad Baby and Toddler travel division. In fact, we took a trip for her birthday (post to come) and have been traveling since she was 3 months and it’s been going well (praise God).
But ultimately, I’m learning not to beat myself up and to enjoy the journey.

Thanks to David Pazos Photography and Lockhart Photography for capturing our new family. Special thanks to the parents who came out to the birthday photoshoot and for not judging me to think that little kids can sit still at all. Thanks also to the friends and family that were patient with me and loved on my baby this year. #mamawemadeit Images of babies posted with permission of parents.

Happy Birthday Lavender