Home Stretch

I took my meditation final yesterday, and my yoga final is next week. Yoga has been such a disaster-- the class feels incredibly disorganized. Our final consists of us each demonstrating a sun salutation of our own creation, which at this point, I sometimes feel like I'm lucky just to be standing in mountain pose. Luckily I just found out my teacher will walk around the room observing us while we all do our sun salutations simultaneously. I was having nightmares about performing a solo sun salutation in front of my class. I still have so much to do for my education class, but at least I will only be on campus once a week from here on out. I feel like I can finally turn my focus to preparing for this baby to be born.

It's been interesting since this is my second baby, I should feel more prepared than I do. Because it's been five and a half years, in many ways I feel like I'm starting over. I mean, just from the practical side, we had to get all new baby gear since we'd slowly weeded out basically everything. But there are other details I just don't remember about last time. Our doula asked me this week if I felt like this baby was heavier (as a mother's sense of size is often most accurate), and I honestly have no idea. I do not remember what it felt like to be eight months pregnant. There is one huge change this time, however, which is that I am not filled with terror at the prospect of having a baby. The entire first year of Bria's life I was living on the edge wondering if we were both going to survive. And we did! I'm glad I have that piece of evidence under my belt so on tough days in the future I can remind myself, "hey, you've kept another human alive for five and a half years. you can totally do it again!" It also helps that I wanted this baby for a long time. Sam and I were flying by the seat of our pants in so many ways when Bria was born, but now we feel so ready for this little boy to join our family. It's a good feeling. It's good to know that really tough transition to motherhood will count for something.

Over the last week I've started to really assume a sense of ownership over my plans for labor, and I'm actually feeling excited about it. Everywhere I go strangers want to know when I'm due, and it's starting to freak me out that the answer is now "about a month." And I really don't love strangers inserting themselves into my business, but when the jock from my yoga class asked me how much longer I have today, he followed up with "and is everything going ok? how are you feeling?" I told him I'm feeling pretty good, and he said "yeah, well you're totally killing it."
Now that is the kind of commentary I will accept.

Meditation Final Essay

The meditation class I have been taking this semester is incredible. It's hard to even know where to start when thinking about the long term benefits this class will have on my life. Who knew?? It's just a one credit class I took to fulfill a financial aid requirement. I want to write more and more about it, but to start, here is the essay I wrote for my final. The assignment was to pick one attitudinal foundation of mindfulness and write about how and why I will try to implement it in my life. It's not the best writing of my life, but I think it's a good representation of some important things I've learned recently.

Several years ago, my sister told me that I was “a special kind of uptight.” I knew that I constantly felt stressed, but I didn’t understand why or how to change. When my sister put it in those terms, it clicked with me, and I realized I had the power to change. Over the next several months I focused on relaxing whenever I started to feel stressed or uptight about something (which was quite often). I would think, or even say out loud, “let it go,” until I was able to relax. This was a long journey, but one that I felt transformed me into a different and more functional person. I still have a long way to go, and in the last year or two, I have seen many of my old, uptight behaviors creeping back in. Studying meditation and mindfulness has given me a much deeper understanding of what “letting go” actually means, and how I can apply this to help me become healthier and happier.

There are many ways in which letting go would be beneficial, but the first is letting go of my need for certainty. In the article Letting Go of Attachment, Lori Deschene says, “in trying to hold on to what’s familiar, we limit our ability to experience joy in the present. A moment can’t possibly radiate fully when you’re suffocating it in fear. . . . letting go is letting happiness in.” I often feel a sense of false safety in trying to predict the outcome of various situations. This often means I expect the worse, so that if it happens, I feel prepared. Unfortunately this means I miss a lot of opportunities for joy, because I so often live in fear.

This need for control also means I am constantly trying to define the deeper meaning of situations and how it compares to what is “normal.” I want to employ a mindful attitude of letting go of the expectations I place on myself. I would not say I am a perfectionist, but I struggle to live in the moment because I am constantly analyzing every situation, conversation, and action and what it means. Letting go would mean feeling comfortable being my own person, regardless of if it is different from what others are doing. The same article, Letting Go of Attachment, says “practice letting things be. . . . make peace with the moment as it is, without worrying something’s wrong with you or your life, and then operate from a place of acceptance.” Letting go would mean opening myself up to feeling vulnerable, which can be an incredibly painful process, but one I feel is incredibly valuable and important.

When I initially began trying to be a more relaxed person, I interpreted letting go to mean not engaging with negative emotions. I did not allow myself to engage in situations that would cause me to feel anger or emotional pain, because I wanted to “let go” of things that made me feel stressful. My deeper understanding of letting go has assured me that it is ok to feel any emotion, but I do not need to cling to it or define myself by it. When my mind wanders during a seated meditation, I can notice and name where my mind had wandered. Similarly, letting go starts with noticing and naming my emotions so I can begin to separate myself (and my identity) from them. It is common for these negative emotions to come and dwell without my conscious awareness of what’s going on. In the moment, it seems easier to ignore the anxiety or emotional discomfort and pain, but instead of pretending these feelings don’t exist, I want to identify how I am feeling and why. If there is something I can change about the situation, then I can do that. If not, then I can work on accepting the situation for what it is.

I know letting go will benefit my relationships. I tend to cling to painful memories and replay frustrating situations in my head. The first step in letting go is identifying what is within my control. For the most part, when it comes to painful memories, very little is within my control. I cannot change what I cannot control, and I need to accept that. I have a very complicated relationship with my parents, and my inability to let go certainly makes it worse. Not only do I tend to cling to the past, but I also cling to the uncertainty and fear I have for the future and my relationship with my children as they get older. This is one way in which I do have some control. I can work towards building relationships on trust, love, and respect, and that is all. Everything else I can let go.

When I engage in my old habits and behaviors of being uptight, I feel a lot of anxiety. My body feels constricted, my movements feel frantic, and my mind races. I get angry and frustrated easily, and I become very stubborn. I am anything but relaxed. As I work towards letting go more fully, I know continued meditation will be of great benefit. I have used deep breathing as a way to relax for many years, but learning how to apply it to formal meditation has resulted in increased calmness of mind and clarity of thought. This takes dedication and practice, but the byproduct is being a naturally more relaxed, healthy, and whole person.

Three Weeks In

I have now been in school for three weeks, and it's time for a report. Overall, school is going well. My meditation class is as awesome as I hoped it would be, and I think it's changing my life. I'll try to write a longer post about that later. Yoga is good, but it's also rather comical. I started doing yoga 11 years ago, so I figured it would be fairly simple for me to find modifications for my increasingly huge pregnant body. Hmmm. Not so much. Let's say it's a really good exercise for me to not care at all what others are thinking. Yoga has, surprisingly, been rather rough for my back. I've had chronic low back pain since I was a young teenager, and pregnancy doesn't exactly make that better. I've been getting acupuncture to help manage, but putting weight on my knees and sides can make the pain rather acute. Luckily, I think I've determined that my old mattress is the main culprit (which means I've currently kicked Bria out of her bed so I can sleep there), so I'm hoping I'll be able to bend and move again in the next couple days. The point is: yoga is really hard.
And now for my education class. The first day I felt out of place. I feel really old compared to all these straight-out-of-undergrad kids, and my ginormous belly makes me stand out even more. Combine that with my feel self-conscious about having nearly zero meaningful work experiences, and my anxiety levels go through the roof. Each class has gotten better, and tonight I found myself contributing several comments to various discussions. Three cheers for me finding my stride and gaining some academic confidence. It helps that the material is so fascinating to me. Tonight we discussed the social, political, and economic goals of public education and it was blowing my mind. It's so complicated. But it was so refreshing to be surrounded by more of a majority who have similar liberal and progressive opinions to mine compared to my undergraduate experience at ye olde BYU.
Overall my classes are awesome, and I am loving being in school. I am so, so tired though and find I barely have the energy to eat three meals a day. (Confession: there has been a lot of cold cereal 'round these parts.) My to-do lists are getting out of control: there are growing lists in regards to school, baby, and still getting settled in our house. I am also aware that I have a sweet little girl who is still adjusting to kindergarten and needs a little extra love and attention right now. (Also she wants me to sign her up for chess and karate lessons, and I need to get back to her reading lessons.)
This is all so much better than being bored, though, Seriously.

First Day of School

Monday marked my first day of school. My 18th first day of school, and my first in seven years. Sam took this picture to commemorate the occasion, and after taking it, he said "I think you'll like this one." In actuality, it's not my favorite. I think I look really tired, but maybe that means it's a good picture because it's accurate.

The report on school is that I have one graduate level class that meets once a week, and I think it's going to be ok. I have to do field work (observing in a school) and a group presentation, but I should be able to finish both before the baby comes. There are also four papers, which my teacher said I can hand in early, and tons of reading. Basically, I think I'll have a busy two months before this baby comes, and then I can just wing it, hopefully missing very few classes. The point is, I'm so excited to be doing this, and my professor seemed rather helpful in making sure I succeed this semester.

The other interesting thing is the shift in responsibilities occurring in our family as I take on this new role of student. Because I was required to take 4.5 credits to receive financial aid, I decided to take two one-credit classes rather than committing to another graduate level class. I'm taking a yoga class and a meditation class, which I am so happy about, but it means that my schedule worked out for me to be on campus five days a week. Add to that the multiple doctors appointments I've been having (seeing the midwives every two weeks now, acupuncture, and multiple trips to the lab), and I feel like I've been away from home a ton lately. I have always been vehemently opposed to referring to Sam as a "babysitter" when I'm away, but the truth of the matter is that I have been Bria's primary caregiver for the last 1,950 days. Sam works really hard, and lately he has been working weekends and double shifts to bank some time to take off when the baby comes, and here I am waltzing off to school, which twice a week will just mean meditation. I am experiencing some guilt. Sam assures me it is completely irrational to feel that way, but right now it is my truth. I have to imagine this will get worse as I eventually take more classes and then as I choose to work full-time rather than stay home full-time. This guilt and conflict about wanting to nourish my soul but feeling this cultural pressure to be with my children constantly has plagued me since before I even felt the flutters of Bria's first kicks.

On Monday Sam and Bria accompanied me up to campus to get a quick look around before I went to class. We sat in the student center eating a late lunch, and Sam just gushed about how excited he is for me. It almost felt anticlimactic at that point. For years I wanted to find a path to follow (I considered so many different ones), and I finally, finally, committed to one. Then I applied and cried and stressed about creating the best application and worrying what I would do if I didn't get it. But ever since I was accepted, I have been so consumed in preparing for this little boy, there has been hardly any room for excitement. But here I am starting grad school. It's real. It's happening.

Here we go.

Logistics: part one of a billion

It's good I'm starting to think about at least writing about starting school. Because it made me realize that there are probably some things I need to figure out. Like financial aid, and my immunization record, and I don't know-- stuff, etc.
Here are a couple things I have done in preparation.

1) The very first thing I did when I was accepted was contact the school and explain my situation. I asked if there was any possibility of taking time off from the program, and luckily, they have been very accommodating. I have five years to complete the program, so I can pace myself however I need. My current plan is to take one class this fall, take the spring semester off, then resume next summer or fall. In April I'll evaluate when I want to head back.

2) We moved from Alexandria to Fairfax. Since Sam works in Maryland, we figured at least one person in our family should live by where they go all the time. His commute stayed the same, and I now live 5 minutes from school instead of 40. There is also a city bus I can take to campus so I don't have to worry about a parking pass. And on ambitious days, I'll walk. And when I'm not hugely pregnant, I'll ride a bike! (Note to self: buy a bike.)

3) All of the classes in my program are night classes. That would be convenient if Sam didn't work nights. The one class I am taking meets only once a week, so the current plan is for Sam to go into work late on that one night so we don't need to hire a babysitter. I feel really lucky that this is the case, and I know we might not always be so lucky as I start taking more classes in the future. Also, part of my program will include student teaching, which means this baby boy is going to need full-time care at some point (unless Sam is still working nights). Clearly, there are a lot of variables, so I'm trying to not worry that far down the road.

4) The big question is what will happen when the baby comes. I am due November 7th, the last day of classes is December 7th, and my final exam is scheduled for December 16th. Luckily we've got Thanksgiving in there too. It's in the works for either my mom or one of my three sisters to be here from the time I have the baby until the semester ends. Some of the specific details will need to get worked out once I have an idea of what the class will be like. I'm hoping this baby arrives late like his sister. (Can I put in a request for the 19th?)

My Life is a Science Experiment

When you don't blog for five months, you should have an excuse, though I am often a terrible blogger with no reason. I guess I could say I have had stuff going on because there is finally going to be a tiny baby joining our family in November, and those first three months were an absolute hell of nausea and migraines. Also, we just moved this weekend, which almost killed me. Moving is so much work. But the real reason I haven't really blogged is because I haven't known how I wanted blogging to function for me. When I applied to grad school (oh yes, and I also got in to grad school! What can I say? I don't like to make only one major life change at once.) I tried to find blogs or articles or anything online about young moms going to grad school, having a baby in grad school, and what that entailed to avoid complete and utter failure. I had a really hard time finding anything-- except maybe someone saying they did that in retrospect-- so I decided I might start blogging about how I'm figuring all of that out. Not because I think I am going to be some expert, but just because I think the information should be out there. I feel like this is a major experiment, and it's a good idea to record my findings.

So, starting in September I will have a daughter in Kindergarten, I will be starting grad school, and I will be seven months pregnant. Here we go!

colors on our water hearts

(Some days you just need to write, you know?) I left the house this morning at 9:00 to drop off B at school then head directly to drop off the last of my application to grad school (!), then to another campus for the class I'm taking, then off to pick up B from school, drop her at home, over to a friend's house to help her plan for an extended hospital stay, pick up B from home and eat lunch (even though it was 3:45), off to a park to meet a different friend, and straight off to meet another friend-in-need for pizza and girl talk while our daughters play. Home late, rush B off to bed, and now just a moment to breathe.
If I look back to three years ago when we had just lived here a few months, I would be astounded at how full my life looked today. I was so overwhelmingly lonely back then and wondered if I would ever make any lasting friendships. (I'm nothing if not dramatic.) A few months ago I realized this was the first time in my adult life I could say I wasn't lonely, but I've realized that it takes a lot of energy to maintain friendships, and I am happy to expend it. I wanted my life to be full of people, and it's starting to be that way.
The point of this whole long introduction, though, is to say when you open your heart to relationships, it can be sad, because people you love experience pain. I have someone very close to me who has shut her heart off because she doesn't want to feel sad when those close to her experience pain. I think that is a very sad way to live (and it has caused me a great deal of pain trying to be close to this person). Today I had heavy boots thinking of all the people in my life who are suffering in some way. Today alone I spoke with three very dear friends about very traumatic things happening in their lives. It makes my heart hurt. But I really think that's what life is: forging these personal bonds where we care for and love each other, feeling each other's pain and finding ways to provide strength and comfort. There is so much-- too much-- sadness and pain in this world. The least we can do is link our hearts and feel it together. Does the pain act like food coloring dropped into hearts made of water? The more hearts we can add to feel the pain together, the more the pain is diluted?