Take Care of Yourself, Mama

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For fifteen years, I committed myself to my career. I usually worked seventy to eighty hours a week. Typically, I was commuting ten or more hours a week. 

I went through all sorts of phases in that time, as far as how I treated my body. 

Sometimes I'd have my act together and I would eat healthy. One time I even committed to a fully keto diet for quite a while. Sometimes I would arrange my schedule so that I could consistently get up early and go for a run before getting ready for work. I'd have occasional spans of time when I'd take vitamins or do some kind of cleanse or otherwise contribute to the health of my body.

Then there were the other times. And looking back, if I'm being honest with myself, those other times seemed much more prevalent. 

There was a span of about a year where I was drinking six or seven cups of coffee a day. I took up smoking for a while. I drank too much wine sometimes. I'd skip meals, forget my vitamins, not keep myself hydrated or eat too much sugar.

Over the years, I would say, I averaged five or six hours of sleep per night. 

All of these transgressions were usually justified, one way or another, in my mind. 

"I know seven cups of coffee a day isn't great, but it's what's getting me through my studies!"

"I deserve this glass of wine; today was hellishly stressful and I survived it!"

"I could go to bed earlier, but I need some time to just veg out and not think about work, so I'll just watch one more episode of New Girl."

Despite my bullying, my body was generally in fairly good health. Once in a while something would crop up - a bout of UTIs or a spell of weakness and headaches - so I'd rearrange things a bit and prioritize my health. Temporarily. Then whatever issue I was having would pass and I'd relax and eventually slip back into the bad habit of not taking care of myself.

Then I decided that I was ready to get pregnant. With this decision came a realization that I was going to make my body someone else's home for nine-ish months, and that it was NOT ready for guests.

I don't think I'm alone in this, but when I know I'm going to have guests at my house, more often than not there's a wild scramble to gather up the clutter, shove it in a room and close the door, throw the dishes in the dishwasher and run a vacuum through the house. 

I couldn't really do that with my body. I don't have a "spare room" in which to shove the garbage, so I had to prepare for real. No surface pretense. 

It was December when I decided I was ready for a baby. I gave myself three months of prep time. (This kind of worked out perfectly because I wanted to time things so that we didn't have a Christmas baby - my best friend was born at the end of December and she instilled in me a conviction that having to share your birth month with the holidays is no good.)

I quit smoking cold turkey. I stopped drinking altogether. I started taking vitamins every day. I focused on eating more nutritious foods. I got a job where I could work from home, eliminating the ten plus hours of commuting every week and making it possible to actually get sufficient sleep at night. I cut my caffeine intake down to no more than one cup of coffee a day.

I experienced a neat little side effect from all this: I felt good! I was calmer, more productive and just generally happier.

By the time the three months were up, I was feeling really good about hosting a sweet little "guest" for the next nine or so months.

I was incredibly lucky to get pregnant right away. 

Through the pregnancy, I tried to maintain the same mindset. I wanted my little one to have a clean, comfortable home that helped him grow into a healthy little baby. I took my vitamins every day, without fail. I tried to keep my diet clean. I drank more water.

Of course, there were days when my "morning" sickness lasted all day and it was impossible to even conceive of smelling food, let alone eating it.

There were weeks where the insomnia kicked in, hard-core.

There was the occasional ice cream craving I'd give in to, or that one time I ate an unholy amount of mashed potatoes over the course of a couple days. 

But all in all, I tried to be the best "hostess" to my perfect little "guest". I think I did pretty well.

Before I knew it, it was January, and we finally got to meet our baby.

In the whirlwind of postpartum, it became very challenging to keep up the good habits. 

Time lost all meaning, days blurred, mealtimes became sporadic, vitamins were remembered occasionally, I only stayed hydrated because my husband reminded me to drink constantly and I didn't want to move because my lady parts were in need of much recovery.

I remember putting my baby in a carrier and bundling up to go for a walk. I made it maybe halfway down my street and immediately turned around and went back home. Nobody talks about how your insides are gonna feel like jello after giving birth, and wearing my baby on my belly while I walked made me want to crawl out of my skin. 

But gradually and intentionally, I worked on getting back into good habits. I started taking my vitamins every day again. I kept hydrated (very important for breastfeeding). I started doing some exercises to heal my diastasis recti (abdominal separation that sounds a lot more painful than it actually is). I focused on getting more sleep. 

It was tough to keep all of these things going consistently (it still sometimes is). I haven't done my abdominal exercises in way too long (note to self - go do the workout right after I post this article). There's days when I forget to drink enough water.

But overall I've found that when I take care of myself, I'm a better mama to my little boy. I'm more patient, I'm happier, I'm calmer.

I guess the moral of this story is: It takes work to maintain your health, and there are a lot of excuses that seem to make it okay to neglect and sometimes even abuse your body. The excuses can be convincing beyond belief, but it's worth it to ignore them and put in the needed time and effort to restore or maintain your health. 

Take care of yourself, mama. Your family deserves a happy, healthy you. And you deserve it, too.