i had a c section.

and i just need to talk about it for a second.

i always thought i'd be a champion baby maker/deliverer. i thought i'd have an awesome pregnancy and then i'd march into the hospital and deliver like a friggin amazon woman, and all the nurses would gossip about me: the crazy amazing birther. they'd give me a crown and ask to take a picture with me and my gorgeous baby.

you guys, that's not what happened.

in the delivery room-
i ate too much of the complimentary flavored blue ice...

birth story time:
my doctor scheduled me for an induction at 41 weeks. i labored naturally for about 8 hours (ouch) before the epidural man comes. 24 hours later i'm at a 9.5 and i'm just super excited about my sweet baby that is coming any minute. nurse comes in to take my temperature for the thousandth time. she frowns. i have a fever. the baby's heart rate is up. the doctors are concerned about the possibility of infection. they suggest a c section. i silently tell them with my telepathic powers that my having a c section is impossible, being an amazonian champion birthing queen and all. i politely ask them if we can safely delay the surgery for a little longer and see if i progress the tiny bit more that i need to get to a 10 so i can push ("i know i'd be an awesome pusher- i've been working on these abs for 28 years...") they reluctantly agree, and i make a pact with God that if i can please please please have this baby naturally, (and ideally push him out like the warrior queen that i imagine myself to be) i promise to be super nice to strangers and not swear as much when i drive. i'm confident. the doctor comes back. checks my downstairs region. she feels like i still haven't quite progressed to a 10. she hands me the consent forms for the surgery. i sob. i sign. the (incredible) surgery team takes me to an operating room, cuts me open, pulls my baby out, and takes him away to make sure he's okay. i sob some more.

that's what happened.

can i just say that there's nothing more unnerving than hearing a doctor say the word "scalpel" when you're laying down on a table in an OR and can't move your body?

i didn't expect to have a c section, but i especially didn't expect to feel like such a failure in the case that i did. i didn't expect to feel like i was less of a woman. less of a mother. like there's some sort of club i'm not invited to: "women who actually got to push their baby out," and my nose is pressed up against the window to one of their meetings, but i'm not allowed in, because i have a 4 inch scar running across my lower abdomen.

after i got out of surgery i didn't want to talk to anyone. i felt betrayed. and for some reason i really didn't want anyone to know what had happened. i guess i didn't want people thinking the same silly things i thought about myself. i certainly didn't want pity from anyone.

the one good thing that came from having surgery
was getting to see gid in scrubs. hottie.

people assume that you deliver vaginally (and i guess most women do). the first thing people would say when i saw them was "the first few weeks are so hard, at least you didn't have to have a c section, can you imagine?" (yes. i can.)

here's the thing. i've never had a vaginal birth, but i'm pretty sure whatever kind of delivery you have- it sucks. it's uncomfortable and painful. painless deliveries don't exist, and the stipulation that someone who has a c section goes through more trauma than someone who doesn't could be a little offensive to a mother who had a vaginal delivery (and perhaps has a scar just as long in a different area). people schedule c sections on purpose all the time- some women even prefer them. i know this.

i just still kinda feel like a failure.

it doesn't help that i know a million girls who are expecting this summer, and none of them have had to have surgery, as far as i know. every now and then, when i tell friends about teddy's birth, they'll sigh knowingly and calmly tell me that they experienced the same thing with their kids.

i don't know why it's so comforting. i don't know why knowing someone has felt the same crappy feelings you have feels so good.

so i have a favor, friends: if you had a c section, could you tell me? i know it's immature, and my need to hear about other people's experiences probably sounds catty or at best competitive. i just think hearing that i'm not the only one might help me not feel so isolated.

one more thing: i had a c section. but i have a perfect, healthy, beautiful little baby boy. and as much as i hate that i didn't make the nurses gossip about how good i was at pushing, i have no way of knowing what would have happened if i would have had a vaginal birth like i wanted.

my doctor was worried about the position teddy had gotten into with his heart rate up. she was worried he was sick with my fever and over exhausted from my laboring for so long. she wanted him as safe as possible.

the day after teddy came, my dad flew into town. when he heard about my situation, he thought for a moment, and then quietly said he would have done the same thing my doctor did. at first that irritated me; how dare he side with her--the one who sentenced me to be cut open! but then he told me about a similar patient who'd lost her baby and then passed away a few hours later due to unexpected complications. my point is, i'm lucky. i'm so so lucky.

i've probably lost most of you in this long post that is basically me feeling sorry for myself. thanks for sticking around for the end, friends. you're the best. xo

5 lessons the last three years in school taught me...

I've been thinking about life lately, and especially my time in graduate school. Sometimes I think of how when I was in college, I'd fantasize about what a grad program in modern dance would be like. Then I wake myself up from daydreaming, and realize, "I did it!" I did it even though I wasn't sure I was good enough, smart enough, or right enough.

I did it. 

And for just a moment, I feel awesome. A friend was asking me questions about grad school, and I thought I'd write a post summing up some of the advice I gave her. Enjoy friends. xo

1. Graduate school is hard. Like, hard.
When I chose to pursue graduate school, I knew in a vague way that it was going to be a lot of work. Looking back, I was incredibly naive about what I was going in to. I didn't realize was how much it was going to push me physically, intellectually, and especially emotionally. I'd always been praised in college for my writing skills. In graduate school, I felt like my best work would coast by without much notice. If anything, my work was challenged; and initially it felt threatening.

My first semester I got feedback that a piece I was constructing felt superficial. It put me in a funk for weeks. I was so consumed with feeling like a failure that I didn't notice that everyone else was going through the same thing (or worse).

Also- you cannot prepare yourself for the hell that is writing, defending, and publishing a thesis. (And you certainly cannot prepare yourself for juggling two thesis projects simultaneously-- it's seriously the most miserable thing in the world to finish one thesis only to begin another one.)

Also- three years is longer than I thought it was. I'm just going to leave it at that.

2. When you go through a hard ordeal, your spouse goes through it too.
This one was big for us. Even though we dated in college, Gideon and I got married after graduation, so we didn't go through the whole academic experience as a couple living under the same roof. When we were affected by rough days, we'd sometimes give each other the worst bite of it. It's not fair, and it certainly wasn't intentional, but it happened. And we were busy. I was involved with several different rehearsals, had my own rehearsals to direct, and would come home to try to salvage what was left of my brain on paper writing, article reading, and kinesiology studying. And Gid! Poor gid was juggling a job and his schoolwork and demanding responsibilities in our church. At the end of the day, we just had to do our best to put each other first. Sometimes it felt natural. Sometimes it was a struggle.

3. Evolve. Evolve. Evolve.
I changed so much as an artist in graduate school. The work I made changed. My personal belief systems changed. I made realizations about my life, the way I want to live it, and the kind of people I want to actively include in it. I didn't expect to change so much. I think part of it is a natural evolution for this time in life-- don't they call your 20s the decade of decisions? Here's to more evolution.

4. You are cut from your own cloth, and that's just fine.

I'm still learning this one. I have my own style to life, and sometimes it contrasts significantly with those who surround me. That doesn't ever mean that I need to feel apologetic for being different, being the same, or just being me.  Also- some people are jerks. And sometime they just suck. People can be truly horrible. I like to think that they don't realize it, or that I'm being a little ultra sensitive. Just remind yourself that being rude is never cutting edge, clever, or admirable. Sometimes its more progressive for me to tell myself that we are cut from different cloths, and leave it at that. No finger pointing or self-victimizing. Just differences. It's fine. Move on.

5. It's okay to feel frazzled. Everybody does at one point or another.
Again- still learning this one-- don't think I'll ever not be learning this one. People sometimes may think of me as put together, but I hardly everrrrrr feel like it. If I waited to feel like I knew what I was doing, I'd never get anything done. I tackle this by finding satisfaction with tiny victories (and obviously the big ones). Pick three small wins in a 24 hour period (laundry, exercise, good hair day) and go from there. When I remember how lucky I am simply to be alive and healthy, usually that points me in the right direction. I forget sometimes what blessings just come from being in America. And ps- when you do start to feel like you've finally gotten yourself together- don't get too comfortable and feel like a huge failure when you sink into a slump. It just means you're human. And humans are beautiful.

Here's to more learning from life, friends!

lately.

Lately I've been feeling quiet.

Lately I've been feeling like I'm not sure what's next. Like my heart is beating super fast, and my mind is racing a mile a minute, but I'm breathing really slow.

Lately I've felt like I have so many blessings I don't even know what to do with myself. Is it possible to have too many options? To the point of feeling helpless in the decision process? Can I hire someone to make some really hard choices for me?

Lately life seems to be rushing past me while I sit in slow motion. My days are packed with work, but they inch by while heavy thoughts linger over me like a scratchy, uncomfortable wool blanket.

And then I wake up from my quiet rushing and realize it's finally time to sleep. I'm exhausted but my eyes are wide open in the dark, my mind spinning.

The other night Gideon fell asleep while he was on his knees, saying a quiet personal prayer. Goodness I love him. Have you ever heard of anything so sweet? I can't seem to sleep easily lately, even if my body is begging me for rest. I pattern my breathing off of his and force my eyes to close.

Two minutes later I wake up, and its time for the slow rush of the day to begin again.

Have you ever felt like this, friends? I know it has everything to do with adjusting from one phase of life to the next, but I can't believe how strange it's been. Its been a lurch. You know, the one Dr. Suess talks about in that one book he wrote.

Any advice on how to feel extra alive/happy/engaged would be greatly appreciated bloggie buddies.
Or just a note saying that you've experienced something sort of like this before.
Or just a note that just says hi.
Any of the above will do.

confession time.

Happy Weekend, Friends!

(Ahem) 

Ok. Confession time. I have a few secrets to let you all in on. 

Confession #1: 

One of the reasons I've been taking dance classes at BSU is because I've been preparing for an audition.

Confession #2: 

I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to add too much pressure on myself. There's nothing like having to tell all of your friends and family when you've been rejected. (Frowny Face.) 

I wanted to avoid that situation if at all possible.

Confession #3:

I auditioned for the Graduate Modern Dance Program at the University of Utah on March 11th.

Confession #4:

 I got my letter in the mail 10 days later. 

{Gid woke me up at 7:30 in the morning to tell me the news, and I ran out to the mailbox (half asleep and in my pajamas), grabbed the letter stared at it for about 3 minutes. After letting my heart calm down a little, I opened it (as gideon video taped me like a proud grandfather).}

Confession #5: 

I was accepted. 

{Exclamation Mark.}

Confession #6: 

That's not all. 

{Exclamation Mark. Exclamation Mark.}

Confession #7: 

I was selected to receive a full scholarship for the Integrated Movement Studies Program. 

{Exclamation Mark. Exclamation Mark. Exclamation Mark.}

Confession #8: 

That means I start my studies in Salt Lake City in June. 

{You read that right. June. As in 12 weeks from NOW.}

Confession #9: 

I cried just a teensy bit when I opened the letter; I'm so excited I can hardly breathe.

So there it is, friends! Our lives are taking an entirely different turn and we can hardly wait. Gid and I are going to miss our boise family that we've developed over the past 2 years, but we look forward to starting this new season of excitement soon.

Confession #10:

 I have the best husband in the world, and I love him more than anything.
{But that's not really a confession as much as a statement.}

At first I really didn't want Gid to video my opening of the letter, but I'm really happy that we can share it with close friends and especially family (especially you, mom). I'd like to put in a formal disclaimer that I literally had just woken up (you can tell which side of my head I was sleeping on) and made no effort whatsoever to get ready because the only thing in the world I was interested in at this moment was the contents of this letter.

Enjoy, friends.

ps- isn't it sweet how excited gideon is? 
I know it sounds like he's more excited than me, but we're actually equally excited. 
He was just more awake than I was.

sharing time.

I'm sure you guys have seen this through it's viral spread, 

but I thought I'd put it up for the sake of those of you who haven't shared in it's magic.

Enjoy it's beauty.

"To dance is to be out of yourself. 

Larger, more beautiful, more powerful. 

This is power, it is glory on earth and it is yours for the taking." 

~Agnes De Mille