perpetual change

Back to Work

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What a glorious day it was. My very first day back at work since having my child. That’s not entirely true, I’ve been doing work for our own business, but this is the first time I’ve been back and working for someone else. I will actually get a paycheck too, and that feel really great.

It does feel like a very precarious situation. When the HR manager walked in, before she even sat down, she said she had received a call from the Director rethinking that the position needed to be on the weekends, rather than midweek. She said she told him that I wasn’t recruited for that and didn’t think I would go for the switch, which she is right and I told her I was not available to work on Saturday and Sunday. So starting the very opening of my first day back in the workforce, and first day in Real Estate this way, definitely felt uneasy. I made it clear that if that is what the business needs, then do that and let me know. The job sharing role that I have is to help out the other Admin who wants to transition into Sales, which requires her to work on the weekends anyway. I realise the company is growing at a massive pace, and this is part of that, and I am aware.

Nonetheless, I jumped right in, took notes, learned how to open and close, met everyone, and got oriented in my, potentially, new role. I still won’t know for another week or two if I even get to keep it. Since I’m a casual employee I can be let go at anytime, so there’s also a lack of security there too. I just need to roll with it.

It’s hard for me sometimes to roll with it though. I know I’ve signed up for a job that is two days a week, but sure enough all last night my mind was swirling with the day. I couldn’t even get back to sleep for hours in the middle of the night with ideas based on the meeting we’d had earlier in the day about the business. It’s also hard for me not to give my all, I am naturally a disruptor I’ve come to realise, and i don’t necessarily mean to be, but it’s so hard for me not to share my insight or opinion when asked, so I do.

Now, will I keep this job? Will I be let go? Shaking my head. I’d love a bit more stability please.

Finally I Saw Therapist

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Finally I got some face to face help. Two sessions today after calling around yesterday to see if I could talk to someone. I felt the dark wave of grief and despair rolling over me yesterday. I know this feeling. I know it very well since having my child. It was a very traumatic experience for me and I haven’t felt confident to seek a qualified professional as I didn’t have Permanent Residency and didn’t want to jeopardise my chances of getting to stay with my family here in Australia. Now I do have PR and I am working through this now.

The first session was a woo woo style practitioner. She let me ramble and ramble, and that’s what I did. I cried a bit, told my story, described how I felt in creative ways, and at the end did some sand play where I just created what was circling in me and brought it to the surface. That was fun, I always enjoy these kinds of ways of bringing out creativity and to help gain insight. I described what I thought about each piece I chose to add from her shelves of figurines. I chose a mini pot of flowers to add beauty and symbolise the circular path that life seems to be. I chose a native woman carrying a child on her back and a golly wog doll which is an inherently racist black doll that is very kitsch Australian, and I chose these because I feel empathy for them, and in my own plight I understand theirs better. I chose Merlin with a unicorn to help represent how magic is all around, I just have to ask and see it. I chose a happy smiling buddha because I want more of that in my life, but am not sure how to fully detach to get to that stage these days. In the middle I drew out two big eyes, like that Grateful Dead song that goes “wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world” as it’s been running through my head for days now. All in all, it was a good session and I appreciated having that kind of very soft space to talk about things.

The second session was just a few doors down, also upstairs in this downtown charming historic town. When I walked into the stairwell it smelt like beauty parlour that specialises in waxing, and it took me by surprise. I guess that smell went with how I felt when I was in the session, very similar to when you are going in for a wax, you know you need to do it, you know you’ll love the results, but for christ sakes the process is painful, but some areas are strangely very satisfying and almost enjoyable in their pain. The psychologist was an older woman who I can only guess has hair that reaches all the way down her back, she had it piled up high on her head into a bun, she’s of retirement age, but so youthful and full of energy as soon as she opened her mouth with a bright sparkle in her eyes. She wore older woman nice clothes, you know the kind that were popular ages ago and they’re still in fine knick but not necessarily up to date. She also wore a beautiful broach that coordinated with her maroon pantsuit which gave me a sense of comfort thinking about how my grandmother used to wear broaches.

We got down to business after I sat in her narrow office. I had already filled out the paperwork, which thankfully my husband’s work pays for these sessions so we don’t have to pay out the $175 per visit as the contract had read. I get five sessions with her under his program and I will use them all. She asked me to give her a summary of why I am there and what I’ve been up to. So I backtracked to 2010 and mentioned that after a head on collision that happened just months after arriving in Australia, that I received counselling which was very helpful. I mentioned that due to a Medical Treatment visa I was able to stay here, and that’s in the timeframe that I met my husband. I mentioned about going back to University and finishing my bachelors. I mentioned that although my husband and I both had chosen in our earlier lives to not have children, that together we changed our direction and intentionally created our son who was conceived on our wedding day out of love, and that he is all love. I then talked about how that pregnancy went haywire, and I ended up in hospital for nearly three weeks until an emergency caesar where he was extracted from my body, and put into the NICU in a  plexiglass box and that a couple days later I was able to see him and all of it was very disorienting. I told her that before I was put under with the gas that I made peace with my life because I thought I was going to die, and how I had just left my husband’s hand in this stark white corridor on the way to the surgery area. I talked about how I had been so straight during my pregnancy with everything I was consuming and then all of a sudden I was taking major drugs to help me cope with the pain, and how that along with having to inject myself with a needle to help prevent dissolve the blood clot that had formed in my groin, was the worst kind of self harm I’ve ever known physically, and all of it took me so far from my natural clear headed state. I talked about the uncertainty when bringing home our child, and being all alone in Sydney with my husband working shifts of four days on and four days off, and not having any additional help and those first months were the darkest of my entire life. I shared how when I think of the newborn phase I think of the smell of Aquim hand sanitiser, chords, beeping, uncertainty, pain, hurt, and grief. I shared with her out loud things that I have never shared with anyone else that went on in my mind during that stage and I wept so loudly and it all came out. I completely lost it, and it may have only been in the first ten minutes of me walking in. Progress was being made.

She talked about the amygdala and how it stores all of our past experiences and how it’s like a volcano that has many layers and how when something gets triggered it then accesses every time I’ve ever had that feeling, and this made perfect sense to me. I had thought of it as wells of emotion within me, something I was holding, something I was internalising, something that was there always with me. She helped me to see that the release can happen by changing it to be a volcano versus a well, and to do whatever I need to in order to get the hell out of the fucking well. She didn’t say it quite like that but this was definitely how I heard it.

She talked about how this kind of trauma creates spikes in my cortisol levels and with that comes fight, flight or freeze. This was also an ah-ha moment to me. I know that my cortisol levels have been spiked from childhood due to having a very traumatic upbringing, and over the years it was clear to me what I was doing I was definitely fighting or fleeing the situation. This time around I have been full on in freeze mode. I hadn’t even considered that freeze was an option, and that’s exactly where I’ve been for the past three years. Adding on the waiting for Permanent Residency and that just created a stronger freeze feeling for me. So I’ve been on edge pretty much my whole life and in this last stretch, it has become freeze and now I get to fucking work it out so I can move forward. No more internalising. I see it, I understand, I have ways to move past this, and now that is what I am doing.

She talked about the importance of getting my levels checked to make sure all of my vitamins, thyroid and all other blood markers are normal in case that needed attention. Thankfully I’ve had those earlier this year due to the endometriosis. Oh speaking of endometriosis, she also said that by keeping all of this in my “well” rather that in a volcano, it would create disease in my body, and then I told her about the endometriosis, which completely makes sense. It came on strong and seemingly all of a sudden, and lasted about ten months. After using the Mirena IUD and getting PR, it’s amazing how it’s settled down, but not at all surprising as I’m not as on edge about everything.

She talked about the importance of deep breathing. 3 count in, hold for 3 and release for 5. She said that if I’m in freeze mode and I’m shallow breathing all of my cells think that they are also in survival mode. She gave an extra oomph to it by talking about Taming the Tiger, and with the breathing to clench my fists in the in breath, and release my hands completely in the out breath to signal to my body physically as well that it’s time for this to go. I loved this. I love that this is actionable and we did it in her office, and I could feel the difference. I will continue to do this.

Overall I feel completely drained from today. My eyes are so tired and dry from all of the crying I’ve done, by far more than I’ve cried anytime in the past couple years, probably not since my father died two years ago. Interesting that it’s also his birthday today, feels very auspicious. I don’t want to be that kind of parent and it almost feels like I’m honouring that by getting help now.

I see her next week and I really look forward to it. I am writing it out. I am moving past this. Thank fucking god. I’m so ready.

Immigration and Permanent Residency

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10 days ago I got the email casually in my inbox that I had finally been approved to stay in Australia. The glorious electronic communication that will forever change the course of my life. Now I know that I am able to stay here with my family, in the home, in the reality that I’ve purposely crafted. There isn’t the fear that was looming before that I would be asked to leave. I guess it’s still there until I get citizenship, which I will apply for when I have met the new requirements, which are 4 additional years of waiting after gaining PR to apply to take the citizenship test. This citizenship test is apparently so difficult that when Media people have taken it, they have even failed despite living and growing up in Australia and working here their whole lives. I’ll worry about that later.

It had almost been a full three years since we applied. The application was submitted after my husband and I had reached our three year anniversary as being an exclusive couple. The immigration representatives that we spoke to on the phone before applying all said it would be faster if we just waited until the 3 year mark, then it would only take six months and I’d have PR. We qualified after one year of being in an exclusive relationship, 5 years ago I could have applied, but listened to the authority and went along with what they suggested, after all, they know best, right? The political winds changed, immigration became a very sore subject for Australia with tons of refugees trying to come to the country, and immigration around the world due to wars, had created a big division amongst the people in western countries. England closed it’s borders and left the European Union over it, Trump was elected president in the United States with his claim that he’d build a wall to keep the Mexicans out, and Australia elected one of the most right wing, anti-immigration ministers Pauline Hanson, lengthened and delayed their processing times. Australia also has kept refugees essentially prisoners on some islands outside of the country in order to send message. I’m not sure where and how common decency and the humanity left these western countries, but it’s a sad sight, and horrible to be caught in the system, even when I’m doing it willingly.

After the six month mark came and went from after applying, then a year later, they requested more information, then more time passed, and a year later more information was requested, and finally one last time, again a year later, more information being asked, and I was approved. The information was always the same information. It was always about references from people we know, it was how our relationship began, what we do together and how we are building our lives. It was always about character and police reports, and official documents. I get it, I understand all of it. When we didn’t get the approval straight away, we were scratching our heads, it didn’t make sense. Tony Abbott had recently become the Prime Minister in Australia and the Labour Party no longer had the majority. Liberals, strangely that they are called liberals, are pretty much anti-immigration, and seemingly anti-women, as we watched Tony Abbott become the Minister for Women, and for Aboriginals’s Indigenous Affairs while he was in office. The liberals have nearly completely undercut the government funded science branch CSIRO, nearly put out the Australian Broadcasting System which is truly the only for-Australia station on radio and television, and reduced funding in schools and universities. It was a crazy time, it still is. There’s a new PM, Malcolm Turnbull, but he’s just the same, he just presents better at face value.

Being an immigrant during this tumultuous time, has come with a lot of hardships. Honestly it’s nothing compared to the people who are kept at Manus Island. It is nothing compared to Syrian refugees searching for a new home. My hardship has been an emotional one. Not knowing that you have a base, being told one thing and then years going by before you actually know what’s going on, has left a bitter taste in my mouth, and in my husband’s as well. The first time when the application didn’t go through they basically said that we needed to have started a bank account or had some kind of authority confirmation like buying real estate together, from the day we started our exclusive relationship, in order to count as that being our “start” date. It would be so suspicious if when entering into a relationship, on the day you have the all important exclusive talk about being committed to one another, that you then say, “okay, now lets share a bank account”, who would do that? It’s so far from what is normal that we were appalled that this was the requirement. We had tons of support from multiple articles posted in the paper about us, to starting our own business, but apparently that wasn’t enough. Since we lived in a share house, there weren’t any actual receipts saying that we both lived there, and although we honestly could have forged them, we didn’t because it’s not the right thing to do, even though it was true, we both did live at the same address even in those early days.

I’m glad that I’ve been granted PR, and if anything it makes me want to, in the future, run for council or get involved in politics, specifically because of immigration, and to humanise the process again. The emotional toll is so big, and the rule makers obviously don’t understand this, or rather they don’t care. I am also certain that my health was impacted because of this. Having to carry that stress for so many years, with a newborn, impacted me, how could it not. Now I need to somehow brighten this thought, move forward in a new way, and start life again knowing I can be here. This includes taking some classes so I can reskill to create new opportunities for this new life. Six years after starting a life with my now husband, we get to start again.

If I were to do it again, and I know that this isn’t possible, but I would have applied straight away, as soon as we qualified for the visa, because looking at that old timeline, I would have already had citizenship. I can’t do anything about it now, but that is exactly what I would tell someone else now, don’t wait, just do it, do it now, you never know what the future holds, you never know how the political climate can change, and you have to think about you and your family first and foremost, and take the least risky way.

Mortality

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I don’t know if I believe in an afterlife, going to heaven or hell, or reincarnating. I do know that the fear of death has been with me even when I was a child. I recall sitting at my grandmother’s knees crying asking her about death. She was a good god-fearing woman and would lean on her bible for strength in those times.

As an adult I have experienced moments when in deep stretches of meditation, that everything is unified and all of this is transient. I feel like that is more of a truth to me than believing of some light at the end of the tunnel. I have lived my life with the acceptance that now is what is, and it’s up to me to make the most of it. I have changed my life again and again in pursuit of my own growth, without a thought of if I do x now, then maybe I’ll be redeemed in heaven, or whatever. I live a moral life. I have a strong sense of right and wrong. I don’t lie on purpose, which is a great distinction from saying I always tell the truth because maybe some times I do lie but it isn’t on purpose, it’s just that memory isn’t in my memory bank at that moment, so I go with what I know and is fresh in my mind.

All in all, I really am the best person I can be and live as good of a life, making as positive of an impact as I can amongst the people I associate. I feel good about all of this. If anything, the feeling that I can be doing more is always there, which is why I am changing course and heading into medicine, so that I can positively impact even more people and have the influence so that people may actually do what I suggest.

So in researching and studying for the upcoming medical school test, GAMSAT, I have been diving in biology, anatomy and physiology, psychology, philosophy, chemistry (only lightly so far), and have recently watched a succinct version of life from start to finish from a scientific standpoint, and I was crying by the end of it. The amount of change that a person goes through in their life, especially for women, is tremendous. I am aware of my own mortality again, and all of this life seems so precious, and so fleeting, and I am tinged with sadness because there isn’t anything I can do about it. I know that I will flip this perspective and use it the opposite way, of making most of every moment and finding happiness and alleviating stress because I know it makes life better and healthier, but in this moment, right now, I am sad and I feel it.

Sadness is a rich human emotion and I am glad that I get to feel it. If I had to choose to know that I would die, I don’t know if I would choose that again. I would like to know the preventative measures I can take in order to make my physical life as healthy as possible, but if I could choose to be like an ordinary mammal and not know about my own mortality, I would. Perhaps I will change my mind when I am in a better disposition, but for now I just want to cuddle up and escape for a moment.

Everything Matters

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The stance “Everything Matters” and “Nothing Matters” are actually a part of the same polarity. They are each the extreme end on the spectrum of what matters.

After sitting days on end in silent meditation I had come to the conclusion that nothing really mattered in my mind. However, even though in my mind I thought that, I still strove to do my very best in my interactions, I began an open and honest relationship with myself about my emotions, and started really taking better care of my body of what I consumed.

So if the spectrum of nothing matters and everything matters are on the same line, then I can in turn think about the fact that everything matters, as I do live with the underlying idea that indeed, everything that I do, think, say, feel, matters. For some reason though in my mind I defaulted to “nothing matters” even though my actions showed that “everything matters”.

Now that this thought has arisen in my reality again, I am choosing consciously to also align my mind with the thought that I have been practicing that Everything Matters. Everything I do matters. Everything I say matters. Everything I think matters. Everything I feel matters. Everything I am matters. Everything matters. This is how I change the world.

The Nostalgic Point of No Return

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Recently I’ve been having a realisation that I am in a relationship with my family and we as a whole have relationships with other people, family units, and places.

There comes a point in a relationship, when after you have left it, there is a time when you can return and are able to make amends, things can patch back together. However, after that time, say 2 years, if you go back, it’s mostly due to nostalgia of what was, of who the other person was, of who you were, and none of it is based in what is really happening now in your reality. When returning to a place that has already passed its point of nostalgic no return, at first you’ll be fooled by your self of all the great things, you’ll see it all through rose coloured glasses and things will feel almost better than ever before. However, in a week, the reality starts to creep in. You’ll start noticing all the things that made you decide to leave in the first place. You’ll notice that the show of good behaviour fades away and the truth of the situation, of the people, surface showing a reality that you don’t really want to be a part of anymore.

Two years, is a major amount of time when your growth game is strong. In two years, you can grow apart something fierce and still have the nostalgia to make you think that’s what you want, but in moments of clarity you realise that’s exactly what it is. The old place is the old place that entertained the old you. It’s where you grew in that stage of life. It’s a fine place to visit, but you don’t live in nostalgia as it stunts your growth.

In two years, from leaving the lovely regional area where I met my husband, we have lived in suburbs outside of Australia’s most populous city, we have had a child together, our whole lives have shifted and we are well and truly different people than we were when we first moved here. How can we ever really go back to what was, because we are not that anymore, that place is not the same either, we have all changed. AND this is all okay.

The better option is to take what you’ve learned and move into the new version of you, of your family, and align it with a location that fits your aspirations best, based on who you are now and who you are becoming. A place that supports your growth, your overall well being and your direction in life. Along with that, all of the right players will come in, at the right time, to help along this path, because it is the right path to take. It will be easy, so easy that we’ll look back at how hard the other path has been to get back to and realise that it was because that other path was never the path we were really meant to travel down together, as a family. It’s heartbreaking and liberating at the same time.

Life is meant to be easy. Life is meant to be joyous and fun. Life is meant to have more laughter than tears. Life is meant to be shared. Life flows along when you are in the path that you are supposed to be in. When aligned with the truth, all things fall into place, it’s that simple, it’s what happens. I have experienced this time and time again in my own personal life. The only time it gets hard is when I am out of sync.

By releasing attachment to the old relationship, the old path, the former town where growth occurred, it gives space for the new opportunities to arise, and they will.

It’s a blessing that things change. I also know it’s a blessing to feel that now I get to change with my family, as a unit. We together get to manifest our new lives together. We together get to build our lives how we want them, letting go of any past expectations, letting go of anyone else’s version of life. We get to forge ahead together and have the blessed life we deserve. <3

Navigating the Waters

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In the last week, I have turned a corner, a major corner. I have started to allow someone else to look after my child in a maximum of 2 hour increments. This is a big deal. He’s now almost 22 months, and prior to now, I pretty much count on one hand the number of times someone else has looked after him besides my husband or myself.

I have so many feelings that are arising from this. Perhaps this is what primary carers of little people go through with this transition. Simultaneously wanting to have freedom and independence, but at the same time wanting to make sure that my little person is completely taken care of. The feeling of, YES FINALLY, I’m Doing Something For Myself, AND the feeling of guilt that someone else is looking after my most precious being, who is completely defenceless, completely incapable of articulating with words anything that goes on.

Exhale. I am doing that a lot, deep breathing. He is going to the day care option that is available at the gym I have joined. It’s all super new, totally customer oriented, and really top of the line. The classes are incredible, the machines are the newest available, the instructors are top notch, the child care is incredible. Even in the baby area, they have a huge play section that rivals the places you have to pay to go into for $12 for 2 hours where you have to buy an obligatory coffee as well. The carers are so lovely, so friendly, so very obviously kid people with big hearts and huge smiles.

All of this is good, I know it. I do. Me progressing forward by moving my body and getting back into shape, along with allowing the next stage of our lives to happen by me letting go and accepting help with my child. I know all of this, I know it’s truly all good. There is still a fountain of feelings coming up and I can’t ignore them. I even invited a fellow Mum from my mum and bub group to come over and watch a tear jerking movie that left us both sobbing, just so we could let the emotions out in a safe place.

The new chapter is beginning and I am grieving the last one. It’s normal, and it’s okay. I have loads of self compassion for myself and am being as gentle with me as I possibly can in this transition. I am also doing my best to be there for my son while he transitions, because it’s also a major shift for him as well. Such a big deal.

Reimagining the Immediate Future

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So I want to live in the Northern Rivers. I do not want to live at the farm. I do not want to be stretched so thin trying to make everything work because it doesn’t work. I want to have some land so I can have a garden and grow fresh vegetables for my family. I want to teach Abraham about the beauty of nature this way. I want to have a small orchard of fruit trees that produce different fruits in different seasons so we always have fresh fruit available for us to eat and share with others. I want to have space so that we can have enough room to entertain people, so that our house is the house the everyone comes to. I would love it if we had a swimming pool, and a large covered outdoor area. I would love it we had a really nice spacious kitchen and a spacious lounge and entertaining area. I would love to incorporate indoor outdoor living with wide glass panelled doors that open up letting all the fresh air in. I would love a house where everything works and is well kept. I would love to have my own studio at this place so i could retreat when I wanted or needed to create in my own energy, in my own space. I would love it if I created a lot of something that other people found value in and gave me money for, allowing me to stay at home and be around for bub, while bringing in money. I would love it if my husband also had the flexibility to stay at home to work and not have to be away 5 days a week, only seeing our child a couple of hours a day at most. I would love it if we had a little granny flat with a couple of rooms, one for a woofer to maintain the gardens and house, and the other room for an au pair to help look after bub. I would love this kind of arrangement. I would love to have the feeling and know that we had enough money to afford this lifestyle. I would love to have to have the flexility to live a life where I get to choose how and when and where I live it. I would love the feeling of a resort lifestyle at my own home, here in Australia with my family. This is what I want. This is what I want in the immediate future.

The contrast of living in Western Sydney has been enough for me to unequivocally understand that it is not the place for me to be. It is not the place where I belong, and consequentially, not the place where my family belongs. It is clear to me that I do not want my child who is now walking, to grow up there. It is clear to me that I want his earliest memories to be in a rural location with fresh air and a connection to nature. It is clear to me that safety is so highly important to me. It is clear to me that being in nature and being surrounded more more nature than people certainly brings joy and peace to my soul. It is certain to me that I flourish in places where I feel more joy and peace than I do in places where I don’t feel safe, where the air is bad, and there are people everywhere around.

Yes and thank you.

Solving Problems

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Solving problems, and diving deeper is something that I enjoy doing, immensely. Sometimes, it is hard for me to only listen without offering possible solutions or suggestions on how to make things easier or how to navigate situations that may arise that I can forsee.

I understand the importance of holding space for someone to share what is going on, and I appreciate that. I also like to then discuss possible outcomes if certain moves are made. This is the same when someone is venting. I want to help them move through what is going on to a better situation, a better place, a better state of mind and space.

When I am upset sometimes I just want to be heard, I will work out the options myself, seek out stories that might illustrate the path I am looking to take, or may specifically ask questions of people who I think I know would know. When solutions are offered up before i am ready to receive them it almost feels like I am not being “heard” enough.

Perhaps I also need to take this on board and find a transitionary statement, or stage in the conversation that easily flows into solutions without feeling like the point of pain has been cut short. Perhaps I ought to ask if I can offer solutions, or what if we brainstorm to find pathways to positive outcomes.

The next thing I think of, is that perhaps, I really am suited better to writing my thoughts in one coherent piece of writing than to be in an open dialog situation with someone face to face. Perhaps I really am better on paper, in black and white, in this specific sort of way.

So if I am looking for a solution of how to solve this, I guess I could seek feedback from those I’ve been in conversations with to gauge how I have done in supporting them and helping them get a sense of forward motion. Perhaps I can read a bit more into coaching and best ways to do it when dealing with emotions. Perhaps I can just listen and let that be enough when I am face-to-face.

Finding solutions that are win-win for everyone involved always appeal to me. I want to somehow share this in a way where others can also find this kind of balance, so we can all move forward together as peacefully as possible.

Better Body After Baby

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This is going to sound crazy. My body seems to be better after having a baby. Better as in, slimmer than before and stronger. I wonder if I have been naturally toning my body because I lift my baby, my top of the chart in weight baby, all day every day. If it’s because I am constantly picking up things from the floor, moving around and bending over regularly.

I was lucky, bitter sweet advantage of having a baby 32 weeks along versus 40 weeks, but it was really easy for me to lose the baby weight, I had hardly gained anyway, and within two weeks I was back below what I had started before getting pregnant. This then fluctuated with lack of sleep, crazy eating patterns, stress, and the whole transition into being a mum, but overall my weight stayed the same. My body however felt pudgy, untoned, out of shape. It even created such a concern to me that I tried a ridiculous body wrap which in turn caused more trouble than any good, I was self conscious. Fast forward about six months, and baby is now about a year and a half old, and seriously my body feels like it’s in pretty good shape. I have endurance, I have strength, I am flexible, and I feel strong.

So maybe this isn’t a fluke. Maybe this is what happens to a lot of moms but the media seems to focus on diet this, diet that, or how to “lose the baby weight” which all of those do more harm than good. I didn’t do any diet, I have just been aware what I have been eating, gotten more sleep, and I play with my baby on the daily.