dear kim kardashian...

several months ago, before i was pregnant with Baby K2, a much more famous person WAS pregnant with her first.  the whole world watched her as she tacked on weight and struggled to maintain her celebrity style as a well known fashionista.  

and the media was so cruel...

i don't care WHO you are... you don't deserve what that poor girl had written about her.

i felt my inner fat girl wanting to write her a letter.  because this fat girl had also tacked on a crap ton of weight when she was pregnant with leif and has really never quite been the same since.  and it's not that i idolize kim kardashian and want to be her BFF (though her reality shows are a guilty pleasure of mine) but it was because i felt like i could relate to her so well...

back when i was pregnant with leif, i gushed my feelings on weight gain in another blog.  it was received by so many with open arms.  my friends wrote emails of similar struggles and how it was nice to hear someone talk so honestly.  other loving and protective friends worried that i was being too hard on myself because i was, after all, pregnant and supposed to be gaining weight. 

but i didn't tell you back then what i'm about to say now... that i gained a whopping 75 pounds!!! that amount of baggage on a 5'3" frame is a tad bit overwhelming and VERY uncomfortable.  even more disheartening was that i was lifting weights with a personal trainer 3 days a week and trying my best not to go overboard on my eating.  it's just what my body did.  

so when kim began to get flack, i could feel her pain.  i can't forget the thoughtless comments made by a few people in my life.  i remember one woman at work said something so insensitive i went back to my classroom and cried.  my teammates consoled me and when they found out what she said they almost went down to her classroom and beat her senseless.  

but i begged them not to because that's just how people are...

quick to speak...

even now... i'm halfway through my pregnancy with baby K2 and doing much better on the weight front (though don't be mistaken that i'm a tiny pregnant woman... i'm as rolly polly as they come).  this weekend, i ran into a woman who had seen me a month before i was due with leif... meaning, i was HUGE.  she kept commenting on how "tiny" i was "this time".  at first i'd say, "well, i'm only halfway done, you get a lot bigger at the end."  secretly i was afraid she'd see me sometime in january and retract her kind statement.  later in the evening she started in again with how "small" i was.   i tried to be gracious, but then she said across the crowded room, "just look at how thin your face is!  your face was so much fatter last time."  

ummmm... thank you?

now, i'm pretty proud that i didn't and haven't gotten hormonal about this comment.  (another big difference with me this time is that i'm much calmer and less stressed out than i was with leif).  i realize that deep down, she meant to compliment me by telling me how good she thought i looked... this time. 

but i did fume a little (and complain to kjaer and my mom... well, and you) 

because WHO SAYS THAT STUFF?!?!?

(to a woman... let alone a pregnant woman... at that!)

it made me want to sit down and write ol' kimmy even more!  

but our dear friend kim has already given birth and is probably sweating it out in the gym with a personal trainer and eating salads made by a personal chef so that she can reappear in the public eye and wow those suckers who said the mean crap about her.  

so instead, i write for myself in the future (of this pregnancy and if there are any more to come... those too) and for my friends who are like me and do not look like a little twig with a basketball shoved down their shirts.  in fact, i write to those girls, whose butts started growing upwards the minute that pregnancy test came back positive.  i remember doing squats at the gym when i was pregnant with leif and seeing my derriere reflected in the mirror behind me.  i remembered thinking, "whose butt is that?  that can't be MY butt!"  i came home and asked kjaer if it was growing up my back... which, if i remember correctly, he thought was a trick question.  we now lovingly refer to my butt when i was pregnant as my "four story butt" because it was four stories high.  in fact, it was so big, i went to sit on the couch next to kjaer one time and ended up sitting on him...

not.

on.

purpose.

i just had no concept of how big it had gotten.

so you get the idea... i've been there.  i've been horrified at the weight gaining capabilities of my body and what it does when it's pregnant.  so i know a thing or two about feeling ashamed of my body.  so this is for those sisters... the ones who are embarrassed or worried about their growing bellies and bottoms.

first and foremost, i told kjaer to remind me of this when i was pregnant again, DON'T PANIC!  the first time around, i panicked.  i think it made me shove food down my face even more.  or else maybe it made me give up and think, "oh well, i'm huge, might as well have another cookie."  i was so depressed by the end of it i thought i'd spend the rest of my life trying to get that 75 pounds off.  it was so disheartening.  especially when it had taken me a couple of years to lose 40 pounds after college.  

but it did.

i know you look in the mirror and you feel fat.  your body is stretching out in directions you didn't even know it could go.  at the store, you try on that one cute maternity top in a medium and realize you need to upgrade to a L or XL (if you're being smart and want to wear it at the end of your pregnancy too).  DON'T DESPAIR, YOU WILL LOSE IT!!!!  6 weeks after leif was born i had lost a whopping 30 pounds!  a year after he was born i had lost another 30... (thanks be to breastfeeding and weight watchers for breastfeeding moms). I only had about 15 more to get back to my wedding weight when i got pregnant again.  

that's when i told kjaer to remind me periodically with this little one that it DID come off, i survived and it will come off again.  because in the throws of people's insensitive comments and judgmental stares, it is hard to remember a time when you were able to slither into your skinny jeans and a cute top feeling all super sexy and sleek.

and just so you know, women are usually the worst at saying cruel things to you... but i find the ones who usually do, tend to be the unhappiest and most critical of ALL people.  so try your best to let it go and move on.  every time i think of a thoughtless comment and the mouth it came out of i find my memory of that person's mouth is not usually as a smile.  they usually have their own weight issues or other baggage teaming with insecurities, which makes it easier to pick on you... because it makes them feel a little better about themselves.  so as the very wise mr. jay-z says, "go on brush yo' shoulders off."

buy yourself a cute pair of expensive maternity jeans.  splurge on a couple of cute tops.  and if you have a fat day, make sure your loving partner has been armed with the "right" things to say (ahead of time) to you so he doesn't feel like a jerk when you're crying and shoving ice cream into your face.  

because this to shall pass...

if you want to be back in those skinny jeans and cute tops, and you work at it.... with enough time and dedication, you'll be there again.  maybe not as perfect before.  maybe your skinny jeans will smooth out a few more lumps than you had b.b. (before baby)... or maybe not.  

but you will have a miracle that God entrusted you to carry for 9 months and bring into this world.  and you will find that a few pounds here or there in the long run, don't mean crap.   you will find yourself staring into the eyes of a brand new creation that is part of you and part of someone else you love.  so grin and bear it.  wear those pounds like a rockstar... and when your little one is born be kind and loving to yourself because you just accomplished a freakin' miracle.  and after several weeks of loving on your baby and regaining a fragment of control over your life, start eating wisely and moving again.  

it's like field of dreams... if you build it, they will come.  

if you want it... it will happen... slowly. 

and one day you'll pull out that box (mine was labeled "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY SURE" and wriggle into a pair of your favorite before baby jeans.  they might be a little snug, but your sexy butt squeezed into them.  and you'll coast on a concoction of hope, euphoria and the long road you've traveled to be there.  

i promise.

baby k1 and baby k2

up high, down low...

awhile ago i told leif's birth story and eluded to a funny moment that happened while were were in the throws of my c-section.  as i've begun to mentally prepare for our second little love, i've been reflecting a lot on the birth of our first little love.

the other day i suddenly remembered a moment that made me smile so big... i just had to share it with you.

...but first i had to ask kjaer's permission.

it involves him.

and usually, i do this kind of embarrassing stuff.

so... without further adieu... because i got the green light...

about 15 minutes before leif came into this world, i was sitting terrified on a metal surgical table getting ready to receive my epidural.  inside i was feeling like a huge baby (not to be confused with having an actual real, HUGE baby inside of me) but on the outside i was basically dead quiet and wide-eyed. now, i'm not bragging or anything... but i didn't jump off of the surgical table, tuck my hospital gown around me and run out of the room screaming, "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME DO THIS!!!" even though that's totally what my brain wanted me to do.  i was already so conflicted.  i had wanted to have a natural, drug free childbirth but my doctor had basically said that once i went past 10 days of being overdue, i'd have to find someone else if i didn't take any action because the risks were just too high.  so my doctor, kjaer and i made the decision that if i wasn't in labor by day10... a scheduled c-section it would be on day 11.  (she had already told me that if she had induced me... which i didn't want anyway... i would have had an 85% chance of an emergency c-section... recovering from labor AND surgery?  no thanks!).

but once my giant, pregnant butt cheeks were on that cold table, i was seriously fighting the decision to have major abdominal surgery.  the only time i've ever undergone the knife was having my wisdom teeth removed.  so i'm not really experienced in this whole leaving-my-life-in-someone-else's-hands field.  i was shivering because of the fluids they were pumping into me and kjaer was probably starting to sense that his wife was about to go feral on everyone in there.

and can we just pause here to talk about how God has blessed me with a man who compliments me so well?  sometimes (though he would probably say more often than not), i can get a little stressed out.  the symptoms include my vocal volume increasing to the point of nearly shouting, rigid muscles and shifty eyes.  the day we got married, i was sent down the aisle too soon.  this would have been ok, except that i had a song playing in remembrance of my dad (it was originally supposed to be our father-daughter dance song) and had to stand up there facing kjaer and listen to the words, all the while wishing my dad had been the one walking me down the aisle and thinking about how we were supposed to be dancing to this song on this particular day.  i started to tear up and shake and kjaer read the moment perfectly.  he stared right into my eyes and started wiggling his nose at me, thereby saving the day.  i immediately calmed down, smiled and remembered how blessed i was to have a man who could read me so well... and though i had some tears in those eyes, they went from sadness to joy.

so... like i said... kjaer started to see the signs.

the anesthesiologist, Dr. Morris, was behind me, prepping me for the epidural (which, of course i'd heard horror stories about people still feeling the surgery because it was placed wrong, and my mother the nurse doesn't help with these stories because she HATES most anesthesiologists and has to deal with their messed up leftovers, etc.) kjaer stood in front of me as i sat on that table and pulled my arms up around his neck.  and then he just put his forehead against mine and began whispering to me in that low, sweet voice of his about our new baby and how i was going to be ok.  all the while, Dr. Morris was readying me for the moment of truth, commenting on how he loved when he saw the new dad's with the mom's and how awesome kjaer was.  right at that moment, the dr. put his hand out next to my body, as if to give kjaer a high five.

so naturally, kjaer gave the doctor a high five back.

silence.

Dr. Morris's hand comes up next to me again.

kjaer high fives him again and looks at me like, dude, what is up with this guy.

third and final time... the doctor's hand comes up and he says... "now monica, your back is straight like this (high five hand) but i need for you to curve it like this (curves his hand)."

kjaer puts his forehead back on mine and quietly whispered... while we both tried not to laugh too loud... "dude... i just totally high fived him... twice!"

and immediately my animal instincts stopped with the fight and flight junk, and i was ready to have my baby with my crazy, lovable husband.  and even though i was still scared to death, i knew i had a man who wasn't going to leave me...

a few minutes later, kjaer was happily announcing to me that we had a boy with his winning, handsome smile and laying leif on my chest to meet me.

the beauty of this is two fold.

one... i love how kjaer demonstrated such tenderness in a moment where i really questioned whether i would survive.  i mean... i knew the odds were that i would... but honestly, i was terrified i'd be one of those whacky c-section stories that you hear about from time to time.  he was my cool cucumber.

second... i love that we could still laugh when i know that at that moment we were both so scared.  scared of c-sections, scared of what being a parent was going to be like... just scared.  it seems like sometimes when we need those moments... God sends them to lighten the mood and remind us to take a breath, relax and enjoy our lives.

so while i'm hoping i can do a VBAC for round two... if i can't and have to undergo a scary c-section again, i'll be holding that man of mines neck again, shivering with fear but laughing on the inside as i remember the time my cool cucumber high fived the anesthesiologist!