Mythical Motherhood

When I was young I always dreamt and wished to be in those mythical fairy stories.

Be a healer, a mender, a fighter.
Then motherhood came to me as it has to all such humans. Swiftly and fiercely.

I have felt like I have lost myself to changing diapers, feeding hungry tummies, entertaining the babies.

But it has dawned on me, just now, that I am very much living this dream.

I am a mender

A leader

A healer

A fierce and fighting mama bear

I am the entertainer, the bard, of my wee one. I weave beautiful, magical stories to tickle the imagination and wonder only small children have.

I teach him to listen to the wind as it winds through the trees and the leaves.

I teach him to see and respect the woodland creatures.

I teach him to care for the earth and care for the creatures around him.

I have been gifted the most magical position of all. Mother.

Finding healthy middle ground as a working mom. Within a year. (A rant)

It’s a lot harder than I could have ever imagined.

I get angry thinking about having to go back to work 6-8 weeks after having a baby (8 weeks if you have a MAJOR surgery like a C-Section). 6 to 8 weeks to bond with my new child. 6-8 weeks to establish a breast feeding routine. 6-8 weeks to introduce everyone in my life to my baby. But not too close because GERMS! (Do we even want to bring up postpartum depression or anxiety? PPA almost killed me) 6-8 weeks to heal from the trauma my body endured during child birth, 6-8 weeks for painful, chapped nipples to heal. 6-8 weeks to jump back into the workforce like nothing happened. But something monumental happened.

I feel guilty when I have to take a PDO day when my child is sick and my work team has to carry my load.

I feel guilty when I go pump 2-3X a day to maintain my supply. It interferes with my workflow and rhythm, or I have too much I need to get done today.. So I drop down to 1-2X a day and watch my supply bottom out more times than not.

I feel guilty for PTO, parent teacher conferences, having to stop by the daycare every 4 hours to pump my baby full of Tylenol so that fever doesn’t breach 100°F and inevitably causes him to be sent home. If we get sent home, how in the world will I ever catch up?

I feel guilty that my quality standards at work have to be modified to fit this new life. I had to learn a whole new job a few months after I came back from leave. I want to do well, but I am not the person I was when I left. And this job includes over time and on call that my last job did not. Do you understand the fear of being on a call at 8 pm that requires interaction and total engagement when that is bed time and you are the boob??

I couldn’t take the medications I need to concentrate at work, my work quality was at an all time low… was I going to lose my job because I have to choose between breastfeeding and taking medication for my ADHD, anxiety, or depression?

I have to find a middle ground, but I can’t take choosing my job over my child.

Life would have been so different if America had followed Canada, Norway, Denmark, honestly the list goes on and on for these other countries who seem to actually accept and care for their mothers and children.

I want to be a badass employee. I want to make our company’s name shine and shimmer with greatness.

I want to be a badass mom who isn’t empty at the end of every day from stretching too thin.

I want to be mentally healthy and have time to see a therapist!!!!! But at this point in my life, I’m doing good to get in and see a dentist.

I want to have and interact in my friendships outside of the workplace. But I spend most of my time in the 4 walls of my cubicle. When I’m out, I have 2.5 hours after 5:30 pm to pick up from daycare, get home (30 min drive), dinner??, bath, bedtime, get bottles ready for tomorrow, maybe sneak in a kiss to my husband.

The guilt I feel about being a bad wife and a bad friend… those have been getting to me lately.

Then I remember I haven’t had a shower in 3 days. The smell is me. (So embarrassing!)

Weekends are nice, but I want to do more with them, but also less because I am so tired and need down time.

Shit, the dogs! The cats! They need to see the vet. I need to refill their preventatives. Am I spending enough time with them? Or are they just hostages here?

How do we navigate this terrain??

I know this is not a new territory at all, and mothers have been kicking ass and taking names long before me.

Maybe it’s just me that can’t figure it out.

Maybe I’m in the wrong profession, but I can’t afford to quit my job and go back to school. And I certainly don’t have the time in between work and mommyhood.

My days are flashing before my eyes. Time has never moved so fast in my entire life. I don’t want to miss these days. I don’t want to miss the smallness of my child, he is already growing up so quickly.

Maybe it will get better in time.

Maybe I will get better in time.

Ps… I want to thank my husband who is one of my biggest supporters. I don’t want to ever diminish or minimize the work and effort he puts into supporting me and helping me. I would not have made it to today without him busting his ass. Thank you X 1,000,000.

Pps… thank you to all of the moms before me, and around me, for busting your ass creating something great when nobody could see. It’s a thankless job and you are a saint.

The many faces of Me

I get so caught up in “Who am I” when people look at me

Am I kind or too harsh

Am I a bully or the protector

Big heart or narrow view

Helpful or harmful

Immature or mature

Stupid or smart

It took today to realize I am all of these things.

I am all of these things collectively, simultaneously.

People see me in their own view, dependent upon where they are and how each of us understood it. The old saying of perception is reality.

Yeah it too a long time to get to the me I am today.

I look back and identify the racism, the ignorance, immaturity…. and the growth.

I have grown up and away from the old me.

And I still have so much to do in the Garden of Me. I recognize growing pains for what they are when they make me uncomfortable. I recognize and cherish my roots, and I have to rip out the weeds at their roots. Things I use to think were true and I acknowledge the pain they’ve cause.

If you knew me in one of my many Faces that were immature or hurtful, I am so sorry. Please reach out to me so I can grow if you need to talk about it. I’m still learning and growing. “Gardening”.

I’m trying. And that’s what matters.

What we don’t talk about to first time mama’s

Well now that I have announced the big news to my family I can finally share it with you fine people!!

I’m going to be a mama! Due January 9th (ish)!

But I want to talk to you first time parents about the things I feel like weren’t brought to my attention until after they happened.

I have always felt like the more knowledge you have the more prepared you are for the things you may have to deal with.

We have all heard that pregnancy hormones are a thing. If you haven’t well let me in on a little secret- it’s intense.

Not all women will go through it like I have, but every article and book I’ve read has told me it will be like PMS. and it has been SO much more than PMS. It is far more comparable to adolescent changes than it is to my PMS.

For example, someone accused me of taking a DVD that I did not take (yes… a DVD) and it broke my heart. I cried for an hour. Then I got over it and then I cried some more. I was convinced that person did not love me.

As I stated it is intense.

With this in mind I felt so much guilt. Guilt for not being happy all the time. I mean I had prayed for this miracle for over a year and I had finally finally finally been gifted with this bundle of joy growing inside of me… how dare I feel anything except gratitude?

And mama/Papa I promise there are good feelings that come with this package deal! There is so much wonder, gratitude, humbleness, pride, and excitement. And fear but like good fear. It’s hard to put into words.

Mama, I want you to know that you will fear the days you don’t have morning sickness or sensitivity (is the baby ok? Is something wrong? Will there still be a heartbeat?) this is normal. I had a hard time finding this in any books but I promise you aren’t going crazy. Well maybe just a little bit, but no more than necessary. Only 7/10 women experience “morning” sickness. Even less experience it to the extent I have and even less experience it to the extent I’ve read other women have. It’s ok though.. it’s ok if you throw up thinking about food and it’s ok if you never get sick. Talk to your OB.

On that note- don’t take it personally if your OB doesn’t know a lick about mental health issues. Seriously, mine is a WONDERFUL OB and when I asked what to do if I experience anxiety attacks and deep depression, the man told me to lower my standards and remember I can’t do as much as I could when I wasn’t pregnant. Great advice for those who don’t have mental health issues, but for the rest of us I would suggest keeping your therapist and psychiatrist appointments. While there isn’t much they can give you on the medicine side, they CAN still help you.

Mama if you feel suicidal I beg you to talk about it with your doctor(s). Don’t judge yourself for it because all you are doing is beating that dead horse. You are going to take things personal. You are going to know your feelings aren’t logical and that won’t do a damn thing to stop them. You will feel rage… yes rage. And that’s ok. As long as you keep an open line of communication with the people who are around you, you will be ok.

And there are going to be people who will put their blinders on and will act rather selfishly towards you. They will not take your emotional state into consideration. They will say the absolute wrong things at the absolute wrong time. They will hurt your feelings, break your heart. And you will cry. You are going to cry a lot so get use to that.

Men/Papa- I have no advice for you except guard your words like you would your life in a hostage situation. She will be looking for victims. Don’t be one. And if you do fall prey to the mama emotions- never fear, it will pass in 15-60 minutes. And she will not know why she was so emotional (unless you really hurt her, because I promise she will not forget).

You two can either let this make you better or let it make you bitter.

Just remember that whatever your case, it is you (or you two) against the problem- not against each other.

Let this roller coaster bring the two of you together, and try to remember to enjoy the ride.

Much love & be kind always ❤️ -Chelsee

An Open Letter to My Younger Self

Maybe I’m all up in my feelings but I just want to say something for the younger girls out there struggling.

Struggling with identity, struggling with faith and strength, feeling defeated and used. Wanting (and maybe even planning) to give up.

I was you. I was you a million times over. And it’s hard. God I know it’s hard. This world will shatter you a thousand times before your feet even hit the floor in the morning. It will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. It will wear you down and wear you out. It will break you. You will question who you are 1 trillion times before you hit 20 years old. You’ll look in the mirror and not recognize who is looking back at you.

All the while you are just putting one foot in front of the other.

Listen here beautiful- I’m so dang proud of you. I’m so proud of you! You woke up and fought the demons that wore you out the night before. You woke up and DECIDED to truck on when all you saw was bleak and grey. You decided to continue on when it would have been so much easier to just—stop being.

I’m so glad you are here on this earth today.

Because one day, if you keep fighting- and I do mean FIGHTING tooth and fucking nail fighting you will make it. You will wake up one day and you will have everything you prayed for. (Ok sure I’m not a millionaire but BOY AM I RICH!) I wake up to a man that loves me- and I mean the kind of love you gave up on when you were about 14-17 because yeah boys are stupid. This man is a God fearing man that would jump in front of a bullet to save my life- this I know without question. And I’d be pissed at him for doing it because that would mean he was quicker than me and I didn’t get to save HIM.

This man will choose you day after day and will love you when you can’t even love yourself. And will be your friend when you can’t even be friendly to yourself. Then this man will become a father and you will see that hope in his eye and you will share this unexplainable feeling of terror and excitement and love for the life growing within you (or someone else- adopting, surrogacy, whatever). Life will change and you will realize you made it.

And you realize this whole new chapter is coming and it’s going to push you further than you’ve ever been pushed and further than you can even grasp. And you will smile because you know that if you made it through the first part of your life (rather alone) you can absolutely break the barriers on this next chapter. Don’t you dare settle. Stop judging yourself for how you had to survive. You are so beautifully and uniquely made. You will make it gorgeous… you gotta know that.

Much love- Chelsee

If I could go Back

If I could go back in time..

I’ve been thinking about all the mistakes I’ve made and all the ones I’m going to make.

And there is one thing that has become blatantly obvious: it’s the small things.

I would change only small things-

Listen to your mom for the love of everything HOLY! She’s the only one who has your back.
Stop fighting with your sister. She is also one of the 3 people who truly has your best interests in mind.
Hold on to that knowledge of coding from making your MySpace page fly. You can literally make bank knowing this stuff at a young age.
Don’t start smoking. (No, seriously. Don’t. )
Enjoy your summers, after high school they are gone and you will realize how magical they really were.
You don’t have to kill yourself at work at 16 yrs old. It’s ok to borrow money from Mom.
Stop taking life so dang seriously
Not one drop of your self worth is dependent upon someone else!!
And finally- say yes ma’am/sir and I love you and I’m sorry. These things are important

Notice how I haven’t listed a single life changing event? I realized that I needed those to become who I am. Even though many of them were ugly, heart breaking, soul shattering events. I wouldn’t change any of them. Not one.

I’m proud of who I have become. And I firmly believe you have to be knocked on your ass to appreciate the dirt under your nails and the shiny thing(s) you accomplished.

It took those rock bottoms to truly accept that God is my rock at the bottom. And it took those rock bottoms to mold me into the hurricane of a woman I am today.

I regret none of them.

You shouldn’t either.

Love to you all!! Be kind always! – Chelsee

Insert Smile Here

What am I supposed to say when I’m out of words?

My thoughts turn into ash in my mouth by the burn of uncertainty and fear.
I’m all out of ideas and strength.

I don’t know what to do or where to go.

I hate this uncomfortable feeling crawling on my skin. I hate not knowing what my plan is.

I don’t know what I want out of this life. Isn’t that ironic? I am given so many opportunities and all I can do is go blank.

I can write, I can data mine. I can study your brain, I can help you find solutions, and think out of the box.

I can’t tell you with any certainty what I should do, though.

My God, this is so frustrating and I feel so defeated! I always have a plan. And now I just feel lost.

No I have no idea what’s wrong…except for me. I’ll insert a smile anyway and tell you I’m fine.

No, you can’t fix it for me. Lord, I sure wish you could! I would let you!

I’m stretched so thin that I’m translucent.

My candle is burning at both ends and in the middle.

What do I do? Who do I become? Even things as simple as “What do I write next?” … I have all these ideas swirling in my mind, more faint than *options* , but I can’t catch a single one. They fly too quickly and have too much uncertainty with them.

Is a safety net turning into a noose?

Or am I about to ruin everything?

Fear of forsaken forevers

Unless you’ve heard that door slam and the emptiness that follows, you’ll never understand. You’ll never understand the fear.

But I promise to love you every day, in every way.

Yes, the terrors of abandonment, forsaken forevers, wake me up at night.

Maybe I’ll always fear.

Maybe that’s not so bad, really.

I’ll always savor you like the rarity you are. The once in a lifetime person you are.

The way your chest rises and falls when you sleep. How your eyes sparkle when you speak. How your eyes crinkle, your dimples show when you laugh. How my soul makes sense and I feel at home in your laughter, amidst the chaos.

The way your calloused hands caress my face, as soft as a whisper.

The way you hold me when my world is falling apart.

Yes, maybe one day I will fail you. Maybe some apocalyptic hellish nightmare of a day that door would slam and only silence will follow suit with the empty.

But maybe, just maybe, I will acknowledge my fears. Instead of drowning me, drowning our love, they will shine light into the darkness of the unknown.

No matter what, I will always thank you, I will always cherish you, I will always choose you. I will always love you. YOU you, the real you. The messy you. The you that was broken, too, when you chose to let me in. The one who shares fears, too.

I will thank you for every normal, boring day. And I will always be thankful for the irrational anger that is greeted with an exasperated eye roll and nothing more.

And I will always thank you for every time you walked me back off a ledge. For every time you brought me back home from far away worlds. Every hypothetical “what if” you talk me through, every heartbreak you hold me through. Every time you tell me I am more than enough. Every time you fight my demons off when I am too tired to do so. Every time you love me, when I do not love myself.

And every time I open my eyes, I will love you. I will choose you.

I promise.

If Mirrors Could Talk

What if mirrors could tell the stories of what they’ve seen?

Would they tell us to change toothpaste? Or that it’s long past time to change that toothbrush head?

Would they tell us that our hair looks fine to the left or right and that that one piece will just never sit right?

Would they tell us that yes we HAVE had too much to drink? And scream that we CANNOT drive?

Would they tell us that even though we don’t recognize ourselves that they do?

Would they call us out for not being able to look ourselves in the eyes?

Would the tell of the self hatred screamed at them?

Would they tell us that they’ve seen us cry, and we deserve better than we accept for ourselves?

Would they tell us that the mountains we have been carrying were only meant to be climbed?

If mirrors could talk would they tell stories of the years gone by? Would they tell us about how we should be appreciative of those wrinkles, scars, and bags?

Would they tell us that “The mirror is not you. The mirror is you looking at yourself”?

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home….

You know…. feeling empty is considered a blessing sometimes…and sometimes it’s only a blockade against our own feelings that we need to deal with. While I could pray that I felt nothing, away from this grief and anger…. But that would really be numbness, right? Numbness wears off like Novocain. You’re still left with damage and wounds after it’s gone.

Emptiness still leaves an ache in your chest…. Maybe that really why the tin man wanted a heart, he was empty. He longed for any and all feelings… Think about that for a moment. It’s not like the tin man had never been around those with hearts. He knew what it meant and he sought it out with diligence.

Coming to this realization really makes me feel more like the Lion. A coward.

Life will spin you around like a tornado, never really able to get your feet on the ground. Suddenly you’re confused on where you are and how these things came to be. And while there is no place like home, sometimes that tornado destroys home.

It’s okay to hurt, to rage, to mourn. We are all just wandering around trying to find a yellow brick road. We have brains in our heads, hearts in our chest, and courage in our spirit… the bravery to fight the good fight. Sometimes if we are really lucky, we get a little dog, too. All we have to do is tap into ourselves and find it within. And make it home to who we are really meant to be.