Back to Work

“Back to work, back to work, so my boss doesn’t think I’m a jerk!” (This is sung to the tune of Back to School from Billy Madison!) 

After eleven weeks home with my lil wizard, Thursday marks my first day back to work outside of the home.  I’ve had a lot of emotions surrounding this week – way more than I ever thought I would – which got me thinking about the age-old discussion regarding stay-at-home vs. working mamas.

First, I have to admit that I’m excited to head back to work!  I’ve worked hard to build a career that I am proud of and enjoy. But, this is not to say that I won't bawl when I drop the bean off at daycare or that I don’t have the utmost respect for those mamas who choose to stay home with their littles.  I have not once had dinner ready for my husband when he got home from work in the last eleven weeks.  Honestly, between getting pooped on, nursing, shhhhing, bouncing, rocking, cooing and diaper changing, it never dawned on me that I could do all of that and get dinner ready.  (Yup, I’m an awesome wife!)  In short, being a stay-at-home mama is hard work and being a working mama is also hard work - and don't even get me started on those brave mamas who keep their kids home with with them while they work - how do you do it?

Truth be told, I have worked while I have been home and it has looked like this every time!

The truth is, no matter the work we do, we all just want to do right by our littles.  And, I think the only people who know what “right” is, are our partners, children and selves.  Heading back to work this week is the right thing for my family – for far too many reasons than I can list on this blog and I realize I am leaving out the whole financial issue in this discussion of this highly sensitive subject.  That’s a different blog for a different day.  I know I won’t be able to do it all.  I will miss big meetings to cuddle with our bean when she isn’t feeling well and I will miss activities when a big meeting requires my attendance.  The reality is that some days my career will suffer from the juggling act while other days Nora will and still on other days my marriage or I will take the hit.  But, I will strive to be a “good enough parent” just as I have always sought to build a “good enough marriage.” 

Psychologist Donald Winnicott believed that the way to be a good mother was to be a “good enough mother!”  What he meant by this was simple – “the good enough mother is one who loves her child well enough for him to grow into an emotionally healthy adult. The goal is mental health, defined as the fortitude and flexibility to live one’s own life — not happiness.” This crucial distinction allows for the margin of error that is inevitable as a human.  I believe our job, as parents, is to love our children to the best of our ability, and ready them for the world so they can seek their own happiness.

"Wait, we aren't going to hang out all day, everyday?"

Ultimately, my good-enough will be different from your good-enough but our goal will be the same – to raise good little people who will grow into great bigger people.  We will ensure our faces light up when they enter the room and  provide them a foundation that makes them strong enough to build the life they seek.  And hopefully this, not simply staying home or going to work, will make them great people!

Month One

Month one with our little peanut has no doubt had its ups and downs.  We are so lucky to have a fairly laid-back baby, but even with that, the first month has been a blur.  Anyone who has a child can probably relate to what a blur the nights are.  Two hour stretches of sleep give way to nursing which fades into rocking which quickly becomes diaper changing and then paranoia.  The paranoia inevitably leads to a quick check to ensure the baby is still alive because the room has become quiet (which means you should be asleep) before you finally fade into another two hours (if you’re lucky) of sleep, and the cycle repeats.  

Realistically the days are not much different.  In between the actions that become robotic there are quiet moments of gratification.  A small grin (gas) or a look that undeniably means “hey, I know you’re my parents and I love you guys too.”  That’s when the sleep deprivation that has caused you to look for your phone while you’re on it or run your car into the garage and knock the side mirror off (yup, those things have happened) become worth it.

So, as month one draws to a close we still have no idea what we’re doing.  But, she’s growing so we think something is going right and we’re all learning.  We’re learning that we’re no longer in charge and that side mirrors can be replaced, but those quiet moments cannot.  They fade in quickly and out just as fast.  The blur that is parenthood has just begun, and more than anything we’re soaking it all in.

Happy One Month Birthday, Nora!

And, a little housekeeping.  I’ve added a page to the blog about our road to baby.  I’ve had a number of people reach out to me about infertility so I compiled all the posts that were on a previous blog in this spot.  Feel free to visit if you’d like to learn more (or not if you’re not interested!). 

It's a...

It’s been a few weeks so I’m going to try to capture a whole bunch of events into one post.  Here we go…

It’s a… GIRL!

Right after Thanksgiving, we added yet another item to our laundry list of things to be thankful for.  We will be welcoming the most adorable (I can already tell through the magic of ultrasounds!) lil lady in the spring.  We decided to jump on the whole “gender reveal” bandwagon and had our ultrasound tech seal the baby’s sex in an envelope so we could deliver it to a local bakery.

We then invited our families to our house the Saturday after Thanksgiving to celebrate as we found out if we’d be having a little mister or misses.  I think the pictures speak for themselves… shear anticipation and excitement mixed with an ounce of utter anxiety.  

It’s a… SCARE!

Shortly after the whole idea of having a little girl began to sink in, we headed back to the doctor for our 20 week ultrasound (we found out the sex at 18 weeks and have been having ultrasounds every two weeks since then because of our “high risk” categorization).  At this ultrasound, there were signs of pre-term labor.  With some instructions for restricted activity from our doctor, we spent the holidays taking it easy and, let’s be honest, focusing on nothing but - is everything ok?

Turns out, our girl continues to be full of surprises – for us and our doc!  All signs of PTL were gone at both our 22 and 24 week checks.  Here’s to hoping she’s comfy, and continues to want to stay in there a little while longer.

It’s a… NEW YEAR!

This year has been a roller-coaster for us.  I commented at Thanksgiving that 2013 held one of the hardest days we’ve encountered in our marriage and one of the most bewilderingly exciting.  And, I’m thankful for both of those days.  As I look ahead at the blank slate that is 2014, I can’t help but imagine the person I hope to be for my daughter.  I hope that no matter the day – difficult or amazing – she sees a strong mama who deals with all life’s adventures with true grace.

It’s a… FINAL YEAR IN MY 20s!

Honestly, I truly don’t know how my 30s will top my 20s – I hope they are up for the challenge.  I’m so looking forward to rounding these ten years out in true style.  A new kind of style – mama style!  It will include neat things like cute bags under my eyes, a cute new (diaper) bag on my arm and the art of finding accessories that go well with spit-up and blow outs.  I can’t wait!

23 weeks on the left!

Cheers!

To Our Lil Peanut...

You’re only a few weeks old and barely making your existence known but I want you to know right now, and every day in the future, that you were loved and wanted long before you were here.

A few years ago (October 2011 to be exact), your dad and I were visiting your grandparents in Iowa.  We were living in Florida at the time, and training for a marathon was consuming much of our time.  We decided to get up early before a full day with family for a 10 mile run.  It was a perfect fall day in Iowa, and we ran on the trails in Cedar Falls.  Your dad and I were in great moods following the run, and it was then that your dad admitted that he was ready for you.

The following summer was when I first had a strange feeling that it may be harder for us than it is for some couples to conceive.  I went to a doctor for the first time and began a long process of figuring out exactly why it was seemingly more difficult.  The experience was scary, and involved many uncomfortable tests - even an MRI to rule out any “mass” in my abdomen.  I remember crying at the mere thought of never meeting you, and your dad’s eyes appeared so sad when thinking those same thoughts.  These tests concluded with no concrete answers.  So, we grabbed my file and moved back to Iowa no further along in our process.

I wasted no time in getting recommendations to the best doctor in Cedar Rapids as we continued our journey toward parenthood.  We met with Dr. Zhang in the fall of 2012 shortly after moving back.  She reviewed our file and offered us the option to endure even more tests.  I’ll never forget the moment when I was handed a brown paper bag to give your dad for his “test” and losing my composure.  This wasn’t the person I thought I was – the infertile one - and this wasn’t the journey I expected.

But, we continued on.  We underwent more uncomfortable tests including one on a dreary day in November.  On this day we underwent a Saline-Infused Sonography.  I have to admit that this was more than uncomfortable.  It was downright painful as my uterus contracted to expand and then contracted to go back to its original size.  And, to make matters worse, your grandpa Mort was in the hospital in Waterloo.  So, your dad drove down for my appointment, and upon its conclusion, we drove back to Waterloo to spend the weekend with family.  It was a tough weekend.  I was in pain and uncomfortable, but we remained relatively quiet about what was going on. We were still leery of sharing our experiences.

With no clear answers, our patience was wearing thin. Tired and frustrated, I decided to take a more holistic approach and began seeing an acupuncturist. I’ve written about this experience separately. In short, it was a nightmare. I hate needles and spent a decent amount of time (and money) on what amounted to nothing.

After a few months of needles and acupuncture, we made the decision to set-up a relaxed visit with our doctor.  Our only objective with this appointment was to ask questions – as many questions as we could.  I have to say this was the most refreshing appointment we had.  Dr. Zhang was in no hurry to get our inquisitive minds out of her office and after exhausting our list of questions – me as the question-asker and your dad as the note-taker – we decided to proceed with Laparoscopy surgery for Endometriosis.

Lil’ Peanut, I hope that one day you find a partner with whom you truly love and who loves you back, unconditionally.  In my life, my marriage has been one of my most fulfilling endeavors.  And, I have to admit that this process made my love for your father grow as I realized how devoted he was to me and our family – whatever it would end up being.  Never was that more true than the day I underwent surgery and the days following.

We were two balls of nervous energy as we drove to the hospital that morning.  Our hope was that Dr. Zhang would find a small amount of Endometriosis.  This would increase our fertility temporarily.  However, if she found a large amount, we may have further complications due to scar tissue.  So, we hoped to find “just a little bit.”  And, as I awoke from anesthesia that’s what I thought had occurred.  It wasn’t until your dad was allowed into the recovery room that I learned what the doctor had shared with him.  And, before he explained a thing, I learned it through his eyes!

What we learned is that I have what they call a unicornuate uterus.  Essentially, this means that while I was developing in my mother’s belly only one half of my uterus formed.  And, that half is not connected to one of my ovaries.  At the time we really didn’t know what this meant for our desire to have a family.  I was scared, and while your dad was so supportive, I could see the fear in his eyes too.  We left the hospital with an awkward drawing of what my insides look like, and a lot of questions.  The biggest one being – would we be able to have a family?

After a follow-up appointment, we better understood the risks involved with our fertility future, and my future in carrying a child.  While it wouldn’t be impossible for us to conceive, it would be more difficult.  And, our fertility options were limited due to the risks of caring multiples.  So, we left and decided to take another break.  We would give it six months.  Six months to let it all sink in and to decide if we wanted to proceed with what we saw as our best option – IVF. 

So, six months came and six months passed with still no positive results.  We finally decided to head to the University of Iowa to learn more about the IVF process and whether we felt it was right for us.  We were so impressed with everyone at the University of Iowa’s Advanced Reproductive Clinic.  They were all so knowledgeable, and prepared to see us.  Never once did we have to bring anyone up-to-date on our situation.  Each nurse, doctor and financial counselor came to our room prepared to talk with us about our options in-depth.

After about five hours of appointments, we decided that we’d start an IVF cycle as soon as we could. This meant that as soon as I got my next period we would both start antibiotics, and I would start one month of birth control pills to regulate my cycle for the hormones.  We were nervous, but hopeful for the first time in almost two years!

What we didn’t know then was that you had other plans. On the exact day we thought we’d be starting our initial round of medication for IVF, I took a positive pregnancy test. It seems obvious to us already that you are strong-willed with determination, and we can’t wait to welcome more of that into our home. We love you already and look forward to meeting you. 

Thank you for finding your way to us and being ours!

Snowy Roads.

I have a reoccurring dream that I’m standing at a starting line of a race and my legs won’t move.  And, another one where I’m driving a car and the brakes won’t work.  These dreams can only leave me to surmise that I’m typically somewhere between not being able to move and unable to stop. 

I’ve written a lot about traveling as a way of life.  Traveling through emotions.  Traveling to new destinations.  Traveling through experiences.  Seeing the good, understanding the negative, and keeping perspective toward the mundane.  But, when patience is tested, when the road is less exciting, and it’s an icy up-hill, it’s easier said than done.  Actually, it’s hard to even say it.  It’s easier to just maintain silence. 

It’s been a journey full of snowy roads lately.  And, they are pretty.  In retrospect, of course.  When we’re on them, they are scary.  The slipping, the sliding and the wheels turning with no apparent forward motion.  And, we’ve all been there.  Even those of us who have lived in sunnier climates, we too have had those slippery days.  Those scary moments.

But, oh, the retrospection.  It’s through this we realize that our seemingly futile attempts to gain traction actually work.  The spinning tires are a good thing, despite the frustration.  And, somewhere between unable to move or stop, you find a route you didn’t know you would take.  It too is pretty.  In retrospect.

Cheers to snowy roads {and analogies!}.

#28

"No one longs for what he or she already has, and yet the accumulated insight of those wise about the spiritual life suggests that the reason so many of us cannot see the red X that marks the spot is because we are standing on it.  The treasure we seek requires no lengthy expedition, no expensive equipment, no superior aptitude or special company. All we lack is the willingness to imagine that we already have everything we need. The only thing missing is our consent to be where we are.” - Barbara Brown Taylor

I saw this quote on a popular blog recently (maybe you did too?).  And, it about perfectly summed up a few things I’ve been mulling over lately.

The last year

I’ve been thinking a lot about the turning of the page on a new year.  2012 was weird.  Great, yes, but weird.  I never grew up with some idea of who I’d be by when.  I didn’t think I’d get married at a specific age, or have children by a different precise time.  I never gave myself a deadline on a thriving career nor have I ever limited goals I have to a timeline.  But, I think I got stuck in the in-between in 2012.  I was somewhere between enjoying what I have and emptily going after more.  I rode the waves so to speak.   I spent too much time looking ahead and asking myself “what if?” 

 So, I have spent the last week doing some exploring.  The type of exploring that has nothing to do with seeing landmarks.  I’ve shared coffee and emails with people who inspire me.  I’ve sat and picked the brains of those I admire and I’ve set my sights on some lofty aspirations.  And, many of these aspirations continue to have no deadline.  I’m getting back to a style that has worked for me and doing away with all of this second-guessing. 

In short, here’s what I’m trying to say.  I know I’m exactly where I should be on my 28th birthday because I had no idea where I wanted to be on this day to begin with.  I’ve out-kicked my coverage in so many areas of my life that it’s easy to sit back and – gulp – get complacent.  So, I resolve in 2013 to own the red “x” that I stand on in a way that gives consent to where I’m at and helps catapult me to where I need to go. 

I wrote this elsewhere recently…

“There is a huge part of me that believes “having it all” means appreciating all that you have been given.  I know that I have an amazing husband, a career that I enjoy and family and friends who are second to none.  Therefore, I can’t help but think that this is my ‘all’ and that my future lies in enjoying all that these things offer me.”

Cheers to #28, friends!

A Work in Progress.

We're slowly getting settled and it still feels like home.  We were lucky to find a place to call ours that needed little more than our personal touch.  Most of that touch has come in the form of paint.  We chose to change the wall colors and even the oak trim to better suit our tastes.  

This might be the one and only "before and after" shot.   Taking photos of our progress will also be added to "the list!"

I think painting brings with it an unhealthy obsession with perfection.  I am no professional painter, and therefore it seems there is always something to “touch-up;” always something to make better - like many things in our lives!

So, I'll state the obvious and add "the blog" to the ever-growing list of things that could use a "touch-up."

I walked away from this place for a while, and, to be honest, I often do this.  When I’m designing something that just isn’t getting “there,” I walk away.  When Andy and I are at a crossroad, and no strides are being made toward a productive resolution, I walk away.  And, when I’m out for a run and I just can’t keep up the pace, I walk away.  I do this to put space between where I am and where I’m trying to go.

The walk-away technique has something to do with a pursuit of perfection.  If the design project isn’t quite perfect, the discussion not heading toward a perfect solution, and the run not perfectly exhilarating; I walk away.  Lately I have been obsessing over the whole idea of perfection, and my inability to meet my own expectations.
 
Then I read this quote.

 “There is a crack in everything.  That’s how the light gets in.” – Leonard Cohen

I tend to be the type of person we all read articles about.  Usually those articles are titled something like; “why you can’t have it all,” or anything equally motivating.  I read them, and then – quickly – ignore their message and continue.

I continue to strive for that picture-perfect existence where I have a fulfilling career, productive conversations with my husband, a clean house with a built-in system that washes {and folds} the laundry, so I have time to listen intently to friends, lend a helping hand to family, and work-out five times a week!

But, I forgot that the cracks tell the story, not the perfection.   The cracks shed light on who we are, and the missed strokes remind us of where we’ve been.  Although I think walking away can be the solution, I know it's not the the only solution.  I think evaluating the crack is what gives us the light.  And, this is what sets us apart.

I think it’s important to spend time with our faults.  To share them.  To develop strength through others, and to learn from our weaknesses.  I think it’s important to have people see you when your juggling act has ceased - when the balls have fallen.

I think that's exactly how the light comes in.

Wandering Home.

I wanted to finish sharing the details of our journey from Florida to Iowa.  I really did.  But, it seems the fast-forward button got stuck on the remote that controls my life.  Maybe I was eating too much Jerry Cherry Laffy Taffy and that's what did it.  In short, I don't know where the time goes.  But, ever one to keep my word... here's a quick recap of our trip that was, gasp, over a month ago now!

We hit Smoky Mountain National Park, the Kentucky Bourbon Trail, Bloomington, Indiana, and Chicago, Illinois before we finally found our way home. We laughed a lot.  Fit in time with family and friends, and even managed to work a little.  

I had to include this photo because it just may be some serious home decor inspiration.  I love the mix of natural wood, metal and the pop of turquoise.  I think I was supposed to be learning how Bourbon is made at this point in the trip but was distracted by the feel of the room!

I don't mean to gloss over the trip.  It was amazing.  It was the cherry on top of our sundae that has been the last two years.  And, I love maraschino cherries!  But, somehow when I sat down to write the last of these short stories, this is all I had left...

Marion, Iowa.

I used to try my best to not use the term “home” when I referred to Iowa.  I believe in creating your home wherever you go.  I think it’s important to feel at home in new experiences, in your skin, in unknown places, with different people and, overall, in your life.  But, then I climbed into my own bed on Bellboy Drive with the windows open and a cool breeze coming in and I started questioning everything I believed.  Because, well, this feels like home.

CHEERS!

Who Says You Can’t Go Home?

It was a few weeks ago when I made the drive from Waterloo to Cedar Rapids to work for a day.  On the drive I heard one of those songs that stays in your head and really starts to bug you.  You know it.  It’s by Bon Jovi and Jennifer Nettles.  But, this time, I turned the song up, and started singing along.  All the sudden it seemed it was written for me.

Because, after this particular work-day, I would pick Andy up from the airport and drive us down to Davenport for a good friend’s wedding (the first of two wedding-weekends in a row!).  And, I had already started receiving text messages from friends who were sharing in my excitement for the weekends ahead.  The words never rang more true.

“…There’s only one place they call me one of their own.”

 

So, we checked in at the hotel in downtown Davenport, and headed right over to have a beer at the first of many “old stomping grounds.”  Front Street Brewery had an ice-cold Cherry Ale on tap for me!  It’s funny how it tasted even sweeter than remembered as I kicked-off my vacation home.

We celebrated the new Bowers into the morning hours two nights in a row, and woke up early to suck in as much of our home state as we could.  We hit the Davenport farmers market, a little café for breakfast, our favorite coffee shop, grocery store, and hotelVetro!  All of this in just the first weekend! 

And, then we spent the week with family.  Kissing baby heads, helping siblings, and drinking wine with good friends.  All the while we were making phone calls, and getting ready to officially start building our road back home. 

“...I went as far as I could, I tried to find a new face, There isn't one of these lines that I would erase…”

At the end of the week, we went ahead, and signed our first mortgage papers.  And, it felt right.  We are ready to put down some roots.  To move to Marion, Iowa in September.  To come home.

“…It doesn't matter where you are, it doesn't matter where you go, if it's a million miles away or just a mile up the road, take it in, take it with you when you go…”

Yeah, I took a pic of Andy signing the papers.  Be jealous of Andy's embarrassing wife!

And, we were lucky enough to celebrate our next step as a married couple with great friends as they begin their personal journey. 

"...Who says you can't go home!?"

Congrats, Betsy & Caleb!