Hey kids, drugs are good

Ten weeks postpartum. The baby is a smiley, happy child (except when she is tired or hungry, and then holy hell), we sleep for periods long enough to justify actually turning off the lights and climbing into bed, and I’m racing this weekend. Where does the time go?? That is a rhetorical question: while I can’t believe it’s already been 10 weeks, I also recall every moment since her birth acutely. The immediate trainwreck aftermath of the c-section, the first week of her life when she was so easy and we kept remarking on how lucky we were to have a calm baby, the next six weeks when we wanted to go back and slap those foolish idiots except our hands were too full of screaming baby. It’s been a journey, a constant struggle, a success story these past 10 weeks. Having a newborn is hard and life-changing (duh) but ...continue reading.

That one time when you were born

It’s been just over two weeks since you showed up and I’m not sure if that’s an eternity or an instant. In a way it feels like there was never a world without you, while on the other hand, sometimes you’ll let out a squawk from your lounge pillow and I’m like HOLY SHIT THERE IS A BABY HERE. Your birth day changed my life. (It was probably pretty monumental for you too.) Since you were breech, there was no choice but to have a c-section. My original goal was to have a natural birth, not because I enjoy hemp and growing out my leg hair and suffering unnecessarily, but because it seemed the fastest way to return to “normal” after birth. Women talked about walking around an hour after their drug-free vaginal birth, so of course I wanted that too so I could waddle over to the trainer as ...continue reading.

Returning to riding slightly (five weeks) ahead of schedule

A surgeon sliced into my abdomen ten days ago and pulled out the person that had been growing in there for nine months. “Rest for six weeks,” they told me. “You can walk - walking is good!” But walking doesn’t feel good; I am not a walker, I’m a cyclist. My body feels stiff and unfamiliar after surgery and days of sitting and holding a baby. Muscles that never hurt are sore, my legs are scrawny and noodle-like, and I miss feeling sweaty and strong. So I decide to spin. The incision is glued shut and nearly healed, the pain inside is a lot better, and I genuinely believe a spin on the trainer will get the blood flowing and not do any harm. I kit up. It’s been 11 days since my last ride. At that time, I was hugely pregnant and wrapping up a long, challenging block of ...continue reading.

To my daughter, on your first day of life.

Dear Caroline, It's February 12, 2018 and you are going to be born today. This is absolutely mindblowing because (a) I was starting to think I was going to be pregnant forever, and (b) somebody is going to pull you out of my body, introduce us, and then let me take you home to love and raise you forever. Or until you are 18 and ready to be pushed out of the nest. Pregnancy has been hard. One of my goals as your mother is to be honest and frank with you, so I will tell you that, truthfully, I have hated being pregnant. The only parts I’ve enjoyed are feeling you move (except when it seems like you are trying to forcibly climb out of the front of my stomach) and imagining who you will be and how life will be once you’re in it. Otherwise, pregnancy has been ...continue reading.

Turns out there is more silver lining than cloud

For my birthday last October, my dear friend Ivy gave me a necklace: It was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was a reminder and a life philosophy. Get shit done. Keep going. Don't let anything stop you. There was a moment last November when I almost forgot that. Everything felt broken and insurmountable. I sat alone in my apartment in Seattle and wept at the mess I'd made of my life. In that instant, I couldn't figure out how to begin untangling the wreckage of an entirely derailed life plan. But then I got up off the couch and did. One step at a time, one day at a time, with the help of my tirelessly loving family and friends. I got shit done. Now it's time for the next step. I just left home to go on the road for the season. I often write something here ...continue reading.