Goodbye fall. Hello winter.

Up until just a few weeks ago, Adam has been riding his bike to work downtown.  It's just over 40 km round trip and he's loved it.  He looked into being all hard core and getting chains for his tires, so that he could ride through the winter but after doing some research he said, "I just picture myself riding in -20 at 5:30 am and realize that I would probably end up hating it."  Good call Adam, good call.  So it's back to the bus for him now and he will ride again in the spring.  I think we will start doing the Insanity videos together in the evenings, so that he can get more exercise in his life.

Adam raced in a duathlon this fall and placed 3rd overall.  So impressive!  A duathlon was perfect to train for because he was already riding to work and running during some lunch hours.  The run was on trails out near Bragg creek.  Both of us would love to get into trail running more at some point.

Ivy and I have been getting out almost every day to run.  As it gets colder, we both just add on layers of clothing and it's been surprisingly comfortable.  She stays quite toasty all bundled up in the chariot.     

I'm pleasantly surprised that my body can handle running everyday.  I used to think that I needed a day of cross training in between runs but wanted to challenge that theory a couple months ago.  I add in some strength training here and there and I feel like I have the right approach to exercise for this stage of life.  Plus, now I have a running buddy! (Thanks Kirsty).  I love the convenience of running and I'm glad to avoid the gym until she's older.  I did the gym when Kyla was little and found it hard booking in an exact time with a napping baby and she was sick quite a bit, I assume from all the other kids and germs. 

I've been asked whether I'm training for any races and I'm not.  I feel like if you're going to have a goal, it should add something to your life.  Bring you joy in some way.  Racing at this stage wouldn't do that for me right now.  I have really enjoyed my exercise the past 8 months because it feels like a rehabilitation process.  I've seen so many gains, which is exciting.  I have gained back so much of the muscle I lost during pregnancy, strengthened up my core and pelvic floor and increased my cardiovascular fitness.  I feel healthy,  strong and so grateful for this body that I've been able to use for amazing purposes; to bear three children, race around the world and live a full life.  Pregnancy takes quite a toll on the body and it takes time to recover, that's for sure.  Taking care of myself physically helps me to feel well and be able to offer more to my family and others. Exercise  has been such a blessing in my life.

Myth: Beauty has a best before date

I love the book “The Great Gatsby,” so when the movie came out last year, I was totally stoked to go see it.  Needless to say, I loved the movie, but I especially loved the eerily enchanting song from the soundtrack called “Young and Beautiful” by Lana del Rey.  I listened to it all the time, that is until I actually started listening to the words and realized the following:

(While singing along to the song) Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

(Thinking to myself) Wait a minute.  Obviously everyone reaches a point when they're no longer “young”, but does that also mean they're no longer beautiful?  I don't like that.  I disagree.

And that was about the extent of that conversation I had with myself and I slowly stopped listening to that song.

Fast forward to a few months later.  I read the book “1984,” and, strangely, my favorite part of the book had nothing to do with how it has totally predicted the future and that Big Facebook is watching our every move.  Nope.  Instead, what stuck out to me was the following passage, which has become one of my most favorite book quotes:

Tirelessly the woman marched to and fro, corking and uncorking herself, singing and falling silent, and pegging out more diapers, and more and yet more.  He wondered whether she took in washing for a living or was merely the slave of twenty or thirty grandchildren.  Julia had come across to his side; together they gazed down with a sort of fascination at the sturdy figure below.  As he looked at the woman in her characteristic attitude, her thick arms reaching up for the line, her powerful mare-like buttocks protruded, it struck him for the first time that she was beautiful.  It had never before occurred to him that the body of a woman of fifty, blown up to monstrous dimensions by childbearing, then hardened, roughened by work till it was coarse in the grain like an over-ripe turnip, could be beautiful.  But it was so, and after all, he thought, why not?  The solid, contour less body, like a block of granite, and the rasping red skin, bore the same relation to the body of a girl as the rose-hip to the rose.  Why should the fruit be held inferior to the flower?

“She's beautiful,” he murmured.

“She's a metre across the hips, easily,” said Julia.

“That is her style of beauty,” said Winston.

And just like that, the feeling I had while listening to that silly song was put into words.  There is no end to beauty (which would be a great line to add to the song “If You Could Hie to Kolob,” by the way).  Simply, as Winston said, the style of the beauty changes.  And might I add, I believe the change is for the better.  If nature requires a flower to slowly trade in its petals for wisdom, experience, and sacrifice, the sturdy and steadfast rose-hip can easily be considered equal, if not greater, to the fleeting beauty of the rose.

Myth: I Can Only Enjoy My Body Once It's 'Perfect'

Thanks to those who have contributed myths on my blog.  I appreciate each of you.  It can be tough to be vulnerable and open with others and I applaud and appreciate your courage to do so. Thanks to those who have said they might still contribute.  Please feel free to do so, if you would like.  If you aren't already, I would suggest following BEAUTY REDEFINED on facebook.  I think you'll enjoy the positive messages in your newsfeed.

This morning I went for a run.

The thud, thud, thud of my feet on the pavement was soothing, as it always is for me.  The air carried the crispness of fall and was cool and fresh on my lungs.  The sun cut through the clouds and I could feel her beautiful energy.  I reminded myself to relax into my gait, to pull through with each stroke, to let my hips move freely and to hold my core strong and balanced.  These things are a practice for me, like in yoga.  For me, it's not about getting them right or wrong, just enjoying the practice of learning to move my body in more efficient ways.   I chatted with Ivy and pointed out the trees and leaves and then laughed as she sneezed each time we faced into the sun.

I love to run so very much.  It reminds me how strong I am.  Some days I love to push myself a bit but most days I just love to run.  At a comfortable pace, just soaking it all in and enjoying the movement.

I've heard it said that one reason triathlon is so appealing, is that it reminds us of what it is to be children.  To swim, bike and run and ultimately to move our bodies as a form of fun and play.  Like children do.

I feel saddened to think that many miss out on this enjoyment of their physical bodies.  Particularly if they are waiting to enjoy their bodies until they have reached some magic number on the scale or a certain clothing size.  Enjoy your body now.  The beautiful body you have.  Find something you love to do and take joy in doing it.  Just as a child would.

I chose this myth because I used to buy into it at a certain level.  I had an "aha" moment last year, where I realized that I was saving a certain piece of my happiness to enjoy once I had reached this hypothetical level of bodily 'perfection' that I had created in my mind.  It was a turning point for me to realize that.  I put a note on my mirror, which still remains, that states, "Guard you thoughts.  Think only positive thoughts regarding the look and care of my physical body."  It's a simple statement but it's changed so much of what goes on in my head.  I have reset some of the criticisms that used to have a neurological pathway and changed them to newer, positive messages.

For those who feel the need to have a goal for the look or size of their body, can I suggest that you be careful that these goals help you to live healthier, fuller lives.  If your current goal is causing you to fill up on commercially prepared diet foods and filling you with stress and deprivation, then please re-think it.  A good goal should be one that helps you to improve as a person, to reach higher and deeper.  To become all you can be as a beloved child of God, with so much potential.  In my opinion, physical goals are much more enjoyable if they focus on what you can DO with your body, rather than what your body looks like. The positive changes to your body come as a by-product.  But I understand that it's wonderful to know that your body is in a nice healthy place.

There are many different ways to measure these things but one commonly held measurement of a healthy body weight is to use a BMI chart.  Here's one below.

Bodily perfection can be so loaded and so different for each person.  Who gets to define that?  Well, I would recommend taking control of your mind and your body by making your own definition.  You can take in good information like the chart above and set aside any information that is unhelpful.  You and I have the power to do that.  I promise you will find greater peace and joy in this life, as you enjoy using your body to move, to explore, to be out among nature, to lift, to climb, to create (including and especially children) and all the other incredible functions that these wonderful human bodies were created by God to do.  This body is a gift and we can all enjoy it.  We can enjoy it TODAY.

Myth: The Media is Telling the Truth

Our whole lives we’ve been paying close attention to whatever media is telling us, whether we mean to or not.What I’m telling you now is that media is lying to you so you will buy stuff. Keep reading and see how you can get out of the trap.

My name is Megan Allen, and I’ve known Kim and her family for several years. Kim was one of my amazing young women’s leaders at church. I’ve lived in Calgary for eight years and am currently attending Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. I volunteered or Kim asked me to write a post for her myth series in the spring and after the craziness of school and summer, here it is!

Ever since I discovered Beauty Redefined.com in high school, my whole outlook on beauty and the media has changed. Beauty Redefined is an organization run by two twin sisters who have PhDs in the study of media and body image. I’ve learned about media literacy and the lies that we see in media everyday. Most importantly, each time I read one of their articles I learn about the tactics all forms of media use to objectify women. Once I realize what is truly happening, I can choose to reject the negative messages. My passion to learn about the subject of media and body image has helped me in school since it is the subject that I always choose to write about when I have an essay due. (So pardon me if I recycle a bit of what I’ve already written!)

What is Self-Objectification?

Self-objectification is described as when people adopt the “outsize gaze” as their own.  What does that look like? Well, it is the result of nearly every attempt of advertising and at the core of having a lack of confidence and discouragement with your appearance.  Media, in all forms, such as television, advertisements, magazines and movies present harmful messages to us its viewers. Media forms are not simply entertainment, but shape our reality and views. This is dangerous because what do you see most in media? You see the repeated and relentless female and male ideal. You know the drill, women are supposed to be in a constant state of perfection- thin, toned, long bouncy hair, sexy, and stylish. Women are objectified and most often seen as a one-faceted object with little regard to intellect and most importantly as appealing to men.  You can see examples of the objectification of women all the time. (Even check out the hashtag #NotBuyingIt to see those working to call out advertisers on it.) But what harm does self-objectifying do?

Self-objectification is considered a national epidemic by The American Psychological Association. They have said: “Perhaps the most insidious consequence of self-objectification is that it fragments consciousness. Chronic attention to physical appearance leaves fewer cognitive resources available for other mental and physical activities.” Those who objectify, especially adolescents, are more likely to be depressed, have eating disorders, have lower ambition, lower GPA, lower political efficacy, and are less likely to run for office or vote.”

The impact of media on adolescent females is profound. First of all, it is estimated that average teenagers spend nearly 11 hours a day using media. These resources such as the Internet, television, movies, magazines, music, and advertisements are full of calculated images of perfected women. The Beauty Redefined Foundation concluded that studies show that constant exposure to sexualized female bodies provides great encouragement for girls to view themselves from an outsider’s gaze. Girls are lead to value themselves based on how they look, and their comparisons come from the oft-unattainable standards created by the media. This pressure leads to widespread body hatred and poor body image, which leads to unhealthy sexual choices evidenced by weakened sexual assertiveness.

Behind the academic sounding facts, it’s clear to see that everyone faces self-objectification, including myself. Ever since I began working on being media literate, I still get caught in the trap of thinking that I’m not enough, nor will I ever be. It’s easy to think that way when it’s too easy for the world to convince you that you are not okay as you are. (I mean if they thought you were fine they would have no way of selling anything to you.) I’ve struggled with body image as early as kindergarten. I went to elementary school in Utah surrounded by dancers, dancers, dancers. Since I didn’t start taking dance classes in pre-school, I thought I was too late so I never tried. Plus it didn’t help that I was always taller than all my friends (who were often very naturally petite) and true to my heritage “big boned.” Until I pursued softball when I was 10, I did not feel confident in my abilities to play sports or in what my body looked like (all this strife before the age of ten!) and even after that, I still thought my body would never be good enough.

I still struggle as my weight goes up and down. With the lifelong battle of trying to be in shape, sometimes succeeding, other times going with the flow, I can now have a defense against all of the negative thoughts. I highly recommend that you all go and read the articles on Beauty Redefined, because they have changed my life. I now can see past the lies in media and think more about the harmful thoughts that enter my mind.

“My body is an instrument to be used, not an ornament to be admired.”-Beauty Redefined

This means that when I choose to go running to focus on my fitness, I’m doing it because I value my body and I want to take care of it. When I put on make-up, it’s to accentuate my natural beauty and also for fun. When I focus on taking care of myself and not on what others may see when looking at me, I’m free from a huge amount of stress. The true harm of self-objectification is that we are not living our lives for ourselves; we are living our lives to be seen. My challenge to each of you is to learn about media literacy, and join Beauty Redefined in “taking back beauty for females everywhere.” Whoever you are, you are beautiful, capable, intelligent, and powerful and always remember it.

Myth: The Mold

I’m embarrassed to say it, but growing up, I somehow conjured up the picture of the perfect LDS girl. She had long, straight hair, shimmering white teeth (her Dad was probably a dentist), tiny feet (yes, that was in there), wore pastel cardigans and most importantly, had a thin, straight body. She was always sweet and most likely went to BYU to take nursing or dental hygiene.

While most of this emerged from my overactive imagination, I’m sure a few pictures in the New Era and a dose of pseudo Mormon culture helped it along.

I came into the world with curly red hair and freckles to match my fiery and opinionated personality. Despite my efforts to straighten it, the second I climbed out of a pool or walked a few minutes in the rain, my curls would bounce back up. Later in life I developed a figure I did everything I could to hide. No matter what I wore, I could not hide my breasts and healthy bottom.  I wanted to be cute, I wanted to be sweet, I wanted to look innocent. I got womanly. And big feet.

(That’s me, third from the right)

In my eyes, I was the antithesis of this perfect Mormon girl.

The wisdom of years is a wonderful thing and thankfully my eyes opened to this non-existent ideal. I took that glass-covered picture hung carefully in my subconscious and shattered it. I see now where believing in a mold, or in some kind of ideal, can lead to that ugly green monster envy, and that colorless monster (because it’s just such a mind-numbing way to live) inferiority complex.

I can think of two specific things that helped me understand the truth.

Praying to my Heavenly Father, connecting with Him and knowing He loves me, adores me-created me-helps me see myself and others in a new light. Understanding my divine destiny and learning to separate the beauty of the gospel from Mormon culture helps me see I don’t have to feel bad about myself all the time-or ever! It helps me see the fallacy in other kinds of molds such as The Perfect Mom, The Perfect Husband and The Perfect Number of Children.

Exercise has also been a blessing to me. Seeing what my body can do and taking care of it helps me to value and treasure it. Now, I embrace and celebrate my body and my hair, not to mention my fiery personality. Not that I don’t try to tame all three, but I love my curves and certainly am not ashamed of them. I wear what makes me feel good (read: leggings!) and let people judge me if they want. Exercise has done wonders for my self -image, and that booty just helps me lift more weight off the ground. I’m still working on loving my feet, but hey, it’s a journey.

 When I first heard this quote it had a huge impact on me:

"The Lord did not people the earth with a vibrant orchestra of personalities only to value the piccolos of the world. Every instrument is precious and adds to the complex beauty of the symphony." (Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin)

I use this quote every chance I get. Wow. We make up a symphony, an intricate, complexly beautiful symphony. Let us embrace each instrument, each loud and soft note, each minor and major key, each staccato and legato, each movement and mood and each beat of the drum.

Especially our own.

Myth: I have to weigh less before I can love myself.

It has been a process for me learning to love my body in this life. My husband has always told me that in order to be willing to take care of my body I need to love it. Essentially to me, that means to be grateful for the gift that it is, and thanking God in prayer for it.

As I have become less active through a busy college life and then two pregnancies, my body has changed so much. I have become one of the ladies who looks back on her pictures and wonder why I felt “fat” when I was a teen, when I was indeed healthy. It has made me realize that sometime we focus so much on weight we forget about just being healthy.

I was so worried that others around me had tighter abs than I did, I had not really seen my body for what it was; a strong, able and mostly healthy gift. A gift that had been given to me with the hope that I would use it to serve others, enjoy life and gain strength through it. Mortality has become an opportunity to gain strength both physically and spiritually because of my body and in spite of it.

So, as I have gained some scars, skin and fat aside from the inability to sleep on one side of my body, knowledge that I will never have a medically unassisted birth, I have had to accept myself. When I never went into labor with my first and ended up with a c-section as a result of low fluid, I felt helpless. I didn’t feel like I had any control over my body.  I had gained quite a bit of weight during my pregnancy and formed very bad eating habits. My exercise levels were at an all time low. I struggled getting back into a healthy lifestyle while learning all there was about my new baby.

Soon after I had my second child and had gained more weight from that pregnancy. It turns out, my body doesn’t lose weight during nursing, as I’d expected. I was as unhealthy as I’d ever been.

I realized that I wanted a change, and I decided I would try the INSANITY workout program. I went through it almost completely 3 times. I was finally starting to feel like myself again. I could chase after my busy boys and I felt like I was making progress. In addition, I started making healthier eating choices. More vegetables, less processed foods and baked treats.

Every once in a while (because I don’t own a scale) we would be at my in-laws and I’d work up the courage to step onto the scale. I’d come out of the bathroom frustrated and angry. How could I have not lost any weight AT ALL! I was so discouraged that my hard work did not seem to be paying off. To top that off, I was asked several times if I was expecting. I tried not to let it bother me, but still struggled to love my body and desire change for myself.

I realized that my weight was not a defining factor in my health. I started thinking about the progress I had made, the things I could do now, that I couldn’t do a year ago. I decided to not allow a scale to tell me what my body is worth. I kept exercising and held onto my goal of doing a sprint-triathlon in summer 2014 after a six-year hiatus. I started looking for the muscle definition I was gaining and seeing the rest as more work to do. More time I needed to give to myself, because I loved my body and want to take care of it.

I have continued going to the gym and have an elliptical in my basement, for the days I can’t get out. I’ve signed up for the Sprint, Magrath Triathlon! I am excited to train for it. I am trying each day to make healthier lifestyle changes and look different in the mirror, but I have still not lost weight. Though I am always striving for a healthier me, I refuse to let it define my progress, health and beauty. I still have a hard time some days with the stretch marks plastered all over my torso, but they are fading, as is how much I hate them.

I may always struggle somewhat with my weight and trying not to let it define me, but I also am grateful for the reminder that I need to take care of my body and be healthier. I know that my health will increase along with healthy spiritual and emotional growth. That’s me, always more work to do, but I don’t need to punish myself for not being everything I want to be, because my body needs my unconditional love.  It is through that love that progress is made.

Myth: I have to do extreme diets and starve myself to lose weight.

As a young girl I was active and always had a very hearty appetite.  And even if my eyes were bigger than my stomach I ate what was on my plate. I remember my mom telling me that if I kept eating as much as my Dad it would eventually catch up with me. Well, I had no problem in high school as I played on the badminton team, joined my first fitness club and joined the high school swim team among walking to school in all kinds of Canadian weather.

 Then it was off to University and somehow the active lifestyle gets a little harder. I was busing all the way there, sitting in lectures and enjoying my newly found free time. Even though I decided to study food and nutrition the lessons in biology, chemistry, physiology and lots of other difficult subjects did not have me thinking about my diet.  So I kept eating as much as I wanted of mostly nutritious food and drinks. But as I now know, you can even overdo portions of proper nutritious food and drinks. 

In 2002, Brian and I had joined a fitness club opening near our home and as I started to get fitter I kept eating the same portions I always had and kept my body looking pretty much the same.  Then one day, after having a body fat assessment I was shocked at my result and realized that if I really wanted to see results from the exercise I also had to make a LIFESTYLE change in my diet.  I essentially decided that the time was right to make a change as I did not think it would get any easier after having children.  By eating consciously and lowering my portions so that I felt content instead of “stuffed” the results started to come.  I have always had a good balance of protein, carbohydrate and healthy fat and a diet rich in fruits and vegetables. I dropped approximately 24 pounds before becoming pregnant with my first child and knew that I added muscle mass as I was getting stronger. I participated in 10 and 21 k runs, did my first sprint and Olympic distance triathlons and did resistance training with free weights and machines.  I stayed active through all my pregnancies right until the end and actually ended up losing an additional 10 pounds between the last 2 pregnancies.

I found such a passion with fitness and nutrition I started my own bootcamp and nutrition business in 2010. I was very motivated to share my passion in order to help others achieve their goals.  Only 1 year into the business we had a fantastic opportunity to live in Malaysia.  So as life throws curve balls, the lifestyle I had for the last 7 years had to make a big readjustment.  You cannot go for a run any time of day as it HOT here.  And everywhere there is white rice, isn’t that a big no,no in healthy eating.  You don’t walk many places and it is an effort to drive somewhere to cycle etc.  You do have it made if you like swimming though! I did meet some runners that went out around 6 am so started running with them and went to the traditional gym.  Somehow, my body decided to put on 4 kg the first year here even though I did not think too much had changed.  I have to admit it bothered me at first but my mentality with the number on the scale has since changed completely.

Last year I experimented with the paleo diet for athletes which unlike the strict paleo diet includes sweet potatoes, pumpkin and other starchy vegetables for added carbohydrate.  I was already used to a diet high in fruits, vegetables and lean protein but did feel that I did not have enough available carbohydrate sources.  I was used to having in rice and other grains so I did not continue that very long as I often felt hungry and that options were limited, especially in rice happy Asia.  I have recently adopted a program called eat to perform which focuses on carbohydrate intake before and after workouts as well as later in the day, especially if you have a workout the next morning. The rest of the time the diet is focused on lean protein, healthy fats and vegetables and this is working very well for me and keeps me very satiated.

In 2012 I trained up to 12 hours per week for a duathlon event called Powerman and gained an incredible amount of endurance but definitely lost some strength (especially upper body).  Even with a 2^nd place result in my age group and my body weight dropping to “Pre Malaysia” standards I did not like that I lost strength as my belief is that fitness encompasses so much more than just endurance.  In 2013 the second Crossfit “Box” in Malaysia opened right across the street from my house and I knew I had to try it.  Crossfit combines, strength, flexibility, endurance, agility, gymnastics, Olympic lifting and everything under the fitness umbrella.  During my first 3 months I tried going 3 days a week. I thought these 10 to 25 minute WOD’s (Workouts of the Day) are killing the “fit” me. The more I went the better I got and the faster my strength went up.  My mentality about how I looked and what my weight was did not matter if my performance was improving.  I started to focus my mind and energy to what my body could achieve and as I added muscle mass and ate more to increase the amount of muscle I had, my weight has actually shifted down 2 kilos. But even if I was up 6 more kg and I could lift more or perform better, I do not care!   I am at a healthy and stable 147 pounds and certainly do not wish to drop any body weight from this as that would likely include lean mass.

I believe a consistent diet with emphasis on portion control and healthy foods over time will lead someone to the lifestyle which they can sustain for their entire life.

It has been quite the journey so far but I am by no means ready to stop living the lifestyle that keeps my physically and mentally ready to meet any life challenges that are thrown my way.  When you decide that you want to change your lifestyle YOU will know how and when the time is right J

Myth: The marks on my body from having children are ugly.

I debated whether or not to write on this topic because I don't want to be annoying, beating the same issue again.  But then I decided that this is the myth that I feel most strongly about at this stage of my life.  I figured if it carries the most meaning for me right now, then that meaning will come across in what I write, and hopefully be most meaningful to those reading.

I also don't mean for this to apply only to mothers because in life we all get 'marked'. Whether physically or emotionally, these marks become a part of who we are.  Difficult or challenging experiences, even the happy ones, leave us changed forever.  Marked.

The choice we have is how to view these "marks".

I can remember in my first pregnancy, my cousin mentioning how she had to buy all new jeans after being pregnant because her hips just weren't ever the same.  They were wider after.  Permanently wider.  Even after losing all the pregnancy weight.  "Hmmm....I thought.  That's interesting."  In my inexperience, I had never considered that pregnancy could change you forever. I had just thought I would return perfectly to who I was before.

And from the first pregnancy I mostly did, physically (although not from the second and third). But not emotionally. Nope, I was never going to be the same emotionally after bringing a child into the world and caring for that little baby and being challenged in ways I had never dreamt.  I became a little more mature but also a little more serious.  I think I lost some of the childlike lightness I had before.  Two years post partum, I was playing beach vball with my dad and brother and we were all joking around and having fun.  My sister, who was watching, made a comment about how she was glad to see "the old Kimmy".   I realized in that moment, that having a child had changed me.  Gradually I have brought back "lighter" pieces of myself that were a bit lost after Riley but the truth is, I'm the same Kim but also different.  My very personality has been marked by motherhood.

Then after Kyla I had physical marks.  Varicose veins haunted my pregnancy and remained afterwards.  My core reminded me of a balloon that had been blown up, twice.  That double stretch left the skin a bit loose and I now carried a bit of fat there, which I never had before.  It bothered me. Just as with the veins, I found myself looking down at that part of my body, often.  Wishing it would 'just go away'.

Third pregnancy has been similar to the second.  The veins have been a source of constant sadness to me, as I've watched new spider veins fail and grow dark in various spots.  I felt a bit helpless watching this.  I was wearing compression socks on days I knew I'd be standing lots but I had this sinking feeling that I'd probably be stuck with them no matter what.  There was also a nagging feeling that maybe I was doing something wrong.  Making them worse by some mistake I wasn't fully aware of.  Maybe my exercising was making them worse, I wondered.  But I wasn't willing to give that up.  Plus, the expert at the vein clinic said exercising often helps move the blood through, but I still doubted and wondered how to help my body.

These physical changes have been more challenging to me than the emotional ones.  With the emotional ones, I realized that the changes were 'enriching' me, rather than 'detracting' from who I am.  Giving me more empathy and compassion for others, allowing me to grow and change.  Because deep down I strongly believe that if I resist and resent change emotionally, then I am resenting growth.  And I love growth and change, emotionally that is.  Physically, not so much.  But shouldn't the same principles apply?  I think so;  I am enriched physically as I experience life and change because of it.  

So that has got me thinking.  Back when I was training for a full ironman, I was very inexperienced with clipless pedals and gear changes.  Like ridiculously and embarassingly inexperienced.  On hills, when my speed slowed, I often didn't gear down properly and ended up coming to a stop before I could unclip.  Yep, I fell over, many times.  I'm sure I was highly entertaining to the highway drivers passing by.  I ended up with cuts and bruises on my legs  And you know what the odd thing was, I loved them.  I loved that I now had marks on my body from doing something awesome.  I was training for an ironman and I now had marks to prove it.  So why is it any different with motherhood marks?

A moment that every ironman athlete looks forward to is when he or she gets to cross the finish line and hear the words of the announcer say, " (insert name) YOU...ARE..AN...IRONMAN!!!!  In that moment, it's like your months and countless hours of training are being recognized and appreciated and honored.  You are given a title.  A title that you will always have, even if you go home and get super, duper fat and unhealthy.  Jokes.  Many athletes get a trademark 'M' dot  tattoo on their calf.  A symbol to all for what they have done.

This same feeling of honor should be attributed to mothers.  Even when we may not feel we are honored by others, at times, we should give honor to ourselves.  Honor the sacred title, 'mother'.  Honor it by carrying our marks with grateful recognition that these are an external 'symbols' of the incredible thing we have done.

Perhaps we can also be mindful in how we talk to other women about their 'marks' or lack of 'marks'.  In a beautifully written email from an anonymous friend of mine:

Women are so competitive with each other. We all want to look like we "were never pregnant" at our first visit back to church with our newborns. Like the best compliment we can get from girlfriends is that we don't look like we were ever pregnant. "Oh congrats on the new baby! You look great! You look like you weren't even pregnant!" (that's an appropriate compliment?) I wish we could celebrate something else after giving birth like I don't know maybe the beautiful miracle of life you just created - and not compete with how other women "bounce back" after pregnancy and post on Facebook how soon we fit back into our "skinny" jeans. That kind of conversation with other women in my opinion almost creates unnecessary walls and or tension between the women who can bounce back and the women who can't or at least not as quickly.  I have made a point never to comment on a new mom's physical appearance but focus on her beautiful baby and or her wonderful mothering. It's one thing to be healthy and happy it's another to try to meet unrealistic standards set by comparing ourselves to others. "Comparison is the thief of Joy." Theodore Roosevelt. 

So in our conversations with others and even more importantly, the conversations we have in our own heads, I hope we can all give more honor to these marks.  Remembering that we came here to earth to be marked up.  To live.  To learn and grow and offer the world something good by the fruits of our lives, including children and all other good things we give the world.  Bringing life into this world is an amazing thing and to be marked up because of it is kinda special.

Beauty Myths Dispelled

Most of you probably know that I am passionate about helping women learn how to accept and care for their bodies in nourishing, healthy ways.  You may read the word 'accept' and think, "how can I accept this?" Said while picturing in your mind all the things you view as being imperfect, even ugly.  Acceptance doesn't mean you don't hope for and look forward to positive changes, both in how you feel and how you look.  Rather, it comes from a deeper understanding of your divine worth as a person, regardless of your body.  This acceptance whispers peacefully, "who I am right now, today, is good enough and even beautiful."

This acceptance or at least moving more towards this type of acceptance brings a cleaner form of motivation.  The motivation that says, "I'm going to take care of myself because I love myself."  Rather than, "I'm going to punish this ugly body until it turns into something better."  The latter motivation is like a dark tunnel with no light at the end.

Why do I feel so passionate about this cause?  Well, I've wondered that this morning, as I woke up before sunrise to feed my infant daughter.  As I nursed her in the quietness, I thought about how much I care about women.  I care about women and I care about the things they struggle with.  I have felt the struggle of feeling frustrated with my body and have written about it before.  Two years ago, a photo shoot with a good friend brought up some of my inner insecurities.  It gave me the painful opportunity to face them and try to bathe those insecurities in the light of truth, thus finding healing, which I also wrote about, through many tears.
 
I remember when I looked at that first photo from the shoot and saw so many flaws.  Ouch!  It hurt.  I think it unearthed the lie that had been lying somewhat dormant, buried deep.  A lie that said, "see look.  You really are ugly after all."  I don't know when that lie was planted.  Might have been in junior high when I was teased for my height and I felt so self conscious about being tall.  Might have been reinforced a bit on a shopping trip with girlfriends when I didn't fit into the trendy jeans the way they did.  Might have been some other time.  But what matters is that it is a lie.  It's always been a lie.  A painful lie.  One that's painful to look at and easier to bury.  The photo shoot brought it out in all it's fury.  I called a friend in tears, knowing that although my husband is kind and loving, I was going to need a woman's perspective on this one.

I can't even remember what my friend said but I know it was helpful.  It was a start to a process of true healing for me.  As I started this process, I realized that I wanted to help other women with their healing too.  That's why I started the beauty discussion on my blog.  I so appreciated the stories shared by other women.  As women, I believe we receive vital healing when we are honest and real and loving with each other.  

At that time,  I was preparing for a half ironman in Hawaii.  Please take note even though I was quite fit and lean at the time, I still wasn't completely accepting of my body.  Acceptance has more to do with what's going on inside, than what's going on outside.  I really believe that.

At 135 lbs I was pushing the lower limits of what is a healthy weight for my body.  I give you that number in hopes that it might be helpful.  Some of you might be thinking, "oh, that's really light."  Others of you might be thinking, "wow, that's quite heavy."   Adam said at that time that I looked a little gaunt in the cheeks.  I remember my father in law asking me how much I weigh, (yes, he's funny like that) and when I told him, he was so surprised.  He said, "really, I thought it would be a lot less." I took it as a compliment, because he knows I'm healthy and in his mind, a healthy woman weighs about 120 lbs.  We all tend to have such loaded perceptions about weight.  Loaded with so much judgement, the harshest of which we put on ourselves.

And now I find myself  in a different place in my life.

My body has gone through a lot of changes since then.  I gained a bit of healthy weight following the intense season of racing.  We were trying to get pregnant and so I chose not to sign up for any big races.  I did a marathon on a treadmill just before Christmas and a couple half marathons as well (relatively speaking these weren't major races compared to the long distance triathlons.)  And then the great news that I had waited for, I was pregnant.

As I experienced life growing inside me and watched my body change, I pondered on the marks of motherhood.  I often struggled emotionally, looking at my varicose veins but I learned and grew a bit from that struggle.  So I'm learning about beauty from a different angle and enjoying the ride.  Living life inevitably means that I am going to see changes to my body, whether that be from aging, having children, or other things.  These changes will challenge me in new ways, forcing me to find anew that peaceful place in my heart that says, "I am ok.  I am beautiful.  Even though my body is different, I am still me and that is always good enough."  I hope that with each stage I am able to find that place a little quicker than the last time.

I believe we find that peaceful place, in part, by dispelling myths!!

So that's what I want to do on my blog for awhile; DISPEL MYTHS.  

Women, teaching women, in honest and vulnerable ways.  Being real with each other.  Taking a myth and explaining from their perspective why it's just not true.  Helping to bathe each of our lies in the light of truth and see things more as they really are.  See the beauty in ourselves.

If you read this and think, "oh I have a beauty myth that I would love to write about",  please get in touch with me.  This isn't about being an expert on anything, it's just about being willing to be honest and real and share some things you've struggled with and then learned from.  In hopes that it will help someone else.

Highlights of the week.

Ivy has moved up a size diaper and mom has moved down a size.  Oh yeah!  Ivy is a size 1 now and mom has graduated to a panty liner.  This last stage of bleeding is such a tease.  It fools you into thinking you're done bleeding time and time again.

Adam and I hallucinate regularly.  Well, what I mean is, we both imagine that we hear Ivy crying at random times, when she's really not.  Did you know that at night, when you have a bit of a nose whistle, it sounds  just like a baby crying. No joke.

My sister says I should just give it up and be a total hippie.  My kids regularly point out that I'm "leaking" because I refuse to wear those stifling breast pads at home.  I follow "my intuition" with Ivy's feeding and sleeping schedule, which basically means I just don't feel like being tied down to any particular method.  Some days I don't even wear a bra.  It's awesome.

Did you know that it's common during the postpartum stage to sweat more at night, as your body gets rid of excess water and stuff?  So, I wake up sweaty, stinky and often drenched in milk.  Yes, I have always produced massive amounts of milk when I nurse and by morning it's spilling out of me.  Oh yes, I am a sight to behold.  Let me tell you, I love my morning shower.  Almost as much as I love my mattress pad that protects our precious king size mattress from being permanently scarred.

Ivy has started smiling and cooing.  At least I tell myself that it's "real" now buts it's hard to know for sure.


I am running about three times a week now.  Each week I run more and walk less.  I am amazed at how quickly it is building.  Don't worry, all you worriers out there, I'm still being careful.  I'm excited for when Ivy is ready for the chariot and we can run together during the day too.  I'm also working on strengthening up my core and building my posture back.  I do planks and stand on my Tzone machine while engaging my core.  It's coming.  It will take time but it's coming.  I'm trying to be patient and look at it as a chance to practice rehabilitation methods, just like you would after an injury.  This is what I tell myself when I look in the mirror and my midsection jiggles.

Ivy pees all the time when I change her diaper (I thought that was a baby boy thing, apparently not).  My startled scream often startles her and she stops peeing mid stream, giving me enough time to get the new diaper on.

To All Mothers.

I've been thinking lately about parenting "methods" and advice.  The newborn stage does that for me. I mean, these little two foot humans can be intimidating, even to the most confident parent.  Even with it being my third baby and Ivy having a generally mild temperament, there are still times I look at her and wonder, "what is it you want?"  In the night at 6am after being up for three hours, I ask that through tears.

Even worse than wondering what it is your child wants, is a deeper confusion that lies to you saying, "you've messed your child up.  You're doing something wrong."  Or, "if only you'd done this or that, then you and your child would be better off."  

Most nights Ivy sleeps 4-5 hours, is up for nursing, burping, diaper change and snuggles, then back to bed for another few hours.  So our nights have been fabulous!  But it only took one rough night for me to start to doubt my methods.  Thinking through the day and evening, trying to figure out what I might have done that caused this rough night.  

I think that's part of the problem.  The assumption that BECAUSE my child is having a hard time, I must have done something WRONG. 

I think of other moms I know and so many are bathed in feelings of self doubt, wondering if they are failing their children.  These are horrible feelings to carry and I don't believe these feelings come from God.  In my heart I feel and know that God honours mothers.  He so appreciates every sacrifice and effort that mothers make to bring children into the world and to raise those children.  And there are oh so many sacrifices!  He doesn't look down on me as I rock my precious daughter at 3am and think, "oh Kim, if only you had followed Baby Wise methods more precisely, you wouldn't be in this mess."  Rather I believe He looks at me with love and compassion.  As a new mother, still healing, giving so much of herself to care for her daughter, His daughter too.  I believe He looks at me with love and tenderness and gratitude for my willingness to care for one of His children and to be her mother.  He knows I am doing what I can.  And most importantly, He knows I love her and that is what matters most to Him.  I imagine He cares very little about whether I choose to follow this method or that.  Those methods are more for my sanity and have nothing of eternal significance in them.

But it's so easy to forget that.

It's far too easy to be judgemental and critical of ourselves and of each other.  Like Martha of the Bible who criticized her sister Mary, we often fall prey to thinking there's a right or wrong way to do things.  In very few cases, is there a right or wrong way that applies to each and every family, each and every mother, each and every child.  No, in most cases, there are just options and we all get to choose.  We get to try.  We get to learn and we get to try again.  The last thing we need is to be hard on ourselves or hard on each other.

So when you look at the mother with a child who is acting out, rather than thinking, "oh if only she would only do this or that", how about instead you extend her the same love and compassion that you yourself need in your own mothering.

To the mother with the crying baby or toddler in the night and to the mother with the older child who is having trouble at school or with his friends and to all mothers everywhere who feel at one point or another that you are or have somehow failed your child, I want to remind you of a loving Heavenly Father who is just grateful that you are trying.  Turn to Him in prayer with your doubts, with your questions and for the divine help you need because He certainly knows you need His help.  He knows you are not a perfect mother and that's ok.  He loves you and honours the sacred title you bear.  Be kind and gentle with yourself, always.

It's Quite A Stage.

As you probably know, we have a 6.5 year gap between Kyla and Ivy.  Yeah, so it's been awhile since we've done the whole newborn thing.  It's actually been a refreshing break.  Not that we exactly planned to have a big gap in our family but the way it's turned out has been a blessing.  Might as well make the best of what life offers you, right!

We feel like we've waited a long time for Ivy to come to us.  We had been praying for her to come, praying that we'd be prepared and praying that it would be a sweet and joyful experience.  We feel like these prayers have been answered.  So many blessings have been given to us by God, throughout my pregnancy, in Ivy's birth and in caring for her.  We chose to honor God by giving Ivy the middle name Grace.  To honor Him for all He has given us.

Even with all our gratitude, all these blessings, this stage is still wonderfully challenging.  

But we try to keep our sense of humor about it and that makes a big difference.

In the middle of the night when Ivy cries out Adam says, "master is calling."  Sometimes he adds, "master goat is calling" because her little newborn noises resemble a little goat.

Adam is such a baby whisperer and he always amazes me with this sixth sense he has with our babies.  Like last night, he was changing Ivy's diaper and she kept tucking her knees up.  So he pushed gently on her lower abdomen and she pushed back and out came fart after fart, squirt after squirt.  Pretty funny stuff at 3 AM, let me tell you.

We also have a bit more maturity this time around.  I am relaxed, even when she's not latching on well.  Or when we go to bed at night, I don't get anxious about how the night is going to go.  I just say in my head, "it will be what it will be."  Knowing that I'll get through it and another morning will come.  Funny how with a newborn, the sun rise almost feels like a finish line.

Riley still loves to watch me nurse Ivy.  The other day he was standing next to me, watching her, when he said out loud, "there is nothing in the world as cute as a baby girl, is there mom?"

I am healing up, emotionally and physically.  Feeling good.  Feeling myself.  I am so grateful to family and friends who have been there to support our family as we adjust to being a family of five.  THANK YOU!!!

I'm Running Again!

Do you have something you love to do so much that it feels like something deep within you comes to life when you do it?  Running is like that for me.  When I run I feel free, I feel strong, I feel happy and I feel alive.  I stopped running at 25 weeks pregnant because of some foot and hip discomfort.  It wasn't a hard choice to make, as I knew it was the best choice for my body and I knew that it was just for a stage.  I kept up my cardio fitness with spin, elliptical and stair machines.  I am such a huge fan of exercising during pregnancy, as I've done it for all three pregnancies.  It takes some wisdom and good judgement to know what is right for your body but it certainly has helped me physically and emotionally to have overall positive pregnancies.

But now that my body is my own (kind of) I am excited to get back into running.

The first couple weeks my focus was on rest, recovery and healing.  With lots of support from Adam, I was able to take it easy, as he took over the housework and cooking.  I went for some walks here and there and tried to remind my body about posture and holding my core strong...not easy after being pregnant.  It's a work in progress.

So this week I decided it was time to try out running.

It's all about finding the right training buddies right?!?  Others that have a similar fitness level, who are as fast or just a bit faster than you are.  Well, I've found them; my 7 month pregnant friend, my 55 year old dad and my 6 and 8 year old kids.  

Last week I went for a long walk with my friend.  It ended up being 2 hours long because we wandered around wal mart picking up some things.  When we got home and she was saying goodbye, I said, "we should do this again next week."  To which she responded, "yeah, and maybe next time we could go a bit faster."  I realized then that she had been going slow for me because I had just had a baby and I had been going slow for her because she's pregnant.  How considerate of us.

Monday my parents came over for the afternoon.  My mom, to hang out at the house with Ivy and my dad, to go for my first run with me.  They are planning to do this every week for awhile, for which I am so grateful.  We went out for 30 minutes;  run 1 min, walk 1 min.  Felt great, other than making me more aware of my need to strengthen up my lower abdominals.  We were slow but who cares.  It just felt so good to move my body that way again

Tuesday I felt good from my run, just a little sore in the quads, so I decided to head out for a short "training run" with my kids.  I asked them if they wanted to train together for a race this summer.  Probably just a 5 km race.  I thought I would do it with Riley but Kyla was eager to join in too, so we'll see how that goes and give it a try.  It's really a win-win situation because now that Adam is back at work this week, he comes home pretty tired from a long day.  He gets to cat nap with Ivy on the couch while I meet my needs and take the older kids out for some fresh air and exercise.  I plan on doing this several nights a week.

Running with my kids is hilarious.  I mean, they are kids, so they do kid stuff.  Like putting their arms in their coats and while laughing they explain, "look at me, I'm a running stump!"  They are also so sporatic with their pace, sprinting up ahead, jumping off snow piles and stuff like that.  I really do love spending time with them this way because I'm sharing with them something I love to do.  We have fun, I teach them a bit about running form and pacing and we laugh and talk about other things.   Some of my favorite memories with my dad are exercising together and I hope it will be the same for my kids and me.

Oh and little miss Ivy is growing.  I'm trying to savor up this stage and enjoy her as much as possible.

The Recovery Is Kind Of A Big Deal.

Someone I love just told me that she is pregnant.  I am so happy for her.  As we talked she asked questions like, "what's been the hardest part about having a baby?"  I told her, "the emotional recovery" and described how that 'time of the month' you just feel kinda 'off'.  Take that and times it by 50.  Then I talked about some of the joys because I felt the need to balance out that comment with some of the good stuff....because there's sure a lot of good stuff too.  I think it's hard to know how much to talk about the hard parts.  I mean really, I don't want to freak anyone out, make them feel afraid of having kids.

What I really thought about answering to her question was, "well, it's actually going to rock your freaking world."  But I didn't know if that would be terribly helpful.

A couple years ago a friend asked me,  "which one is harder, having a baby or doing an ironman?"  I thought about that question here and there while I was pregnant, still not sure what the answer to that was.  Now I have my answer, "the ironman was harder but the recovery is harder from having a baby."  

Keep in mind, that I am comparing a 16 hour ironman where I got extremely sick on the marathon and finished much slower than hoped to an uncomplicated labour that progressed beautifully and was full of support and joy, resulting in a healthy baby and momma.  Certainly every ironman is not harder than every labour and delivery.  This is just my experience.

My little Ivy Grace was born at 11:25 in my bath tub.  A planned home birth.  It was better than I ever imagined a home birth would be.  I had been resistant to the idea of a home birth for the first half of my pregnancy but my views shifted when we spent a day in the hospital around Christmas time for Kyla to have ear surgery.  I realized that I didn't really like hospitals after all.  Certainly they serve an important purpose but I was confident that my birth would go well and felt that a hospital wasn't necessary for me and my baby.
The birth did go incredibly well.  So has the recovery but it's a major ordeal to recover from having a baby.  As I've shared bits and pieces of my recovery with other women, some of them have been surprised and maybe even comforted to know that they aren't the only one who finds this stage hard.  So that got me thinking that I wanted to write a post about the recovery...

There I lay at 3 am on Feb 28th, in a maxi pad that might as well be called a diaper, pondering on the incredible events of the past 16 hours.  It was hard to believe that now I had a baby in my house.  My baby.  That I had finally delivered her. That I was no longer pregnant.  An incredible cocktail of relief, joy, awe and love mixed in with some nervousness about the next stage of life to come.

I remembered reading that newborns usually get a really long stretch of sleep after the delivery.  That it was important for mom to sleep during this time, to also recover.  But I felt like I had just come off of one of the most incredible experiences of my life. An endorphin high.  My uterus was cramping, my back was aching, my bottom was tender, my hormones were undergoing a major shift and I had just met my little baby girl, my daughter.  How on earth was I supposed to just relax and go to sleep?  I knew I was going to need time to heal, recover and adjust to this new stage of life.

It's been quite a ride so far.  Having a baby and caring for a baby is an extremely spiritual experience for me.  Heaven feels closer, God feels closer, angels seem to be watching over me and my little girl.  It's a time filled with simple sweetness.  I love those moments of feeding and snuggling my little baby.  I love how life seems to just slow down.  There are funny moments too, like at dinner when Riley points to me and says, "mom, your breasts are leaking."

There are also hard moments.  Like last night at 2:15 when Ivy woke up crying.  I had been up until midnight, crying and talking to Adam. At times, I cry for no reason, but this time I cried because it was only a few days until Adam went back to work and I felt nervous about 'doing it all alone.'  I also felt this deep ache to be taken care of.  To be held by someone, looked after.  Strange the things we crave emotionally after having babies, isn't it?  The care of my midwives had been so amazing.  I ached for more of that care, as I gave so much in caring for my baby.  I pictured myself laying on the couch, being held by my midwife and that image brought me to tears.  Then for the first time since Ivy had been born, she threw us a curve ball and every time we set her down, she woke up crying 15 min later.  We racked our brains, "was it the lasagna I ate bothering her tummy, is she growing, is it gas....".  Finally at 5:30 she went to sleep for reals.  Had to reach deeper into my reserves of patience and optimism to get through that night.

This raw emotion has washed over me many times since delivery.  Sometimes coming without warning and sometimes for no apparent reason, other than a strong feeling that I just need to cry and let it all out.  Apparently day 3 is a common day for strong emotions.  It sure was for me.  I sat on my couch, feeding Ivy, while my family was at church and the tears flowed.  This time, it had a lot to do with feeling so loved.  It spoke to the deep ache I felt.  The ache to be cared for.  I kept thinking about how one of the midwives was coming soon to visit and that I should really pull myself together so I wasn't a blubbering mess when she arrived.  But then I thought of her womanly care.  Full of compassion and wisdom and the tears would roll again.  I managed to stop the tears when she arrived but partway through the visit, they flowed again.  She was kind and understanding, not judgemental.  "Crying is a right of passage on the day three visit", she said.  "We are surprised if a mom doesn't cry when we visit on day three."

"I know this is normal for me", I explained.  "I remember this raw emotion after having my last two."

I have a good friend who checks in with me every day. On day three, I started dialing her number and cried as soon as I pressed the buttons.  After hearing my tears she responded, "it's one of those days, isn't it?"  I was crying because I knew she would love me, wouldn't judge.  Also, wouldn't worry about me.  Because she knows, as well as I know, that this will pass for me.  I've never had post partum depression but I certainly get the baby blues.

Another interesting part of the recovery has been the need to process my labour and delivery.  I have replayed it over and over in my head.  Sorting it through.  Longing to experience some of the amazing parts again.  Basking in the love and support I felt through it all. Feeling so proud of how I embraced and managed it. Coming down off a euphoric high and trying to find peace with the experience and move forward.

Having an "audience" to my birth was something new for me.  I loved the support of my mom, mother in law and especially the midwives but I was used to just having Adam as my support in the past and I felt somewhat vulnerable about how they perceived my "performance".  I know it's not a performance and I know I had nothing to prove but I still felt this need to be told by everyone that I had done a good job.  That I had coped well and maybe even impressed them.  Silly desire, but there it was anyways.  I thought this through and came to realize that I only needed to seek affirmations from myself and from God.  That their perception of the experience was not so important and I didn't need to crave their praise.  I also felt this need to connect with my caregiver.  My midwife had been amazing, especially in the final moments of pushing.  I suppose she had become a hero to me in those moments.  So I wrote her a letter, called it my 'creepy love letter' and she was kind and loving in reading it.  I remember after having Riley, going back to the hospital to see the nurse who had attended my birth.  I thought she would be thrilled to see us, that I had made such a lasting impression on her with my natural child birth, which she had said she rarely saw in the hospital anymore.  Not so.  It was a hilarious and awkward experience, as she pretended to know who we were and we pretended it was no biggie.

I know as I heal physically, I will also heal emotionally.  Engorged breasts, tender cracking nipples, blood flow, cramping uterus, aching back, as well as a host of unseen adjustments that my brain oversees, as hormones, organs and cells all heal from the pregnancy and adjust back to "normal".  These changes and adjustments take time.  I am more patient with this healing process, as a mom of three.  It's still hard but I have more maturity and patience with the process.  I respect it and understand that I am normal, that these challenges are normal, that it won't be like this forever, that it's ok if at moments I feel overwhelmed, overtired, and emotional.  These are steps and stages of healing.

To all moms reading this, you are amazing for what you do to bring life into the world.  
Ivy Grace Layton, I do this all for you.  I love you.  I am honored to be your mother.