So I’ve been eating pineapple and dates, walking, doing spinning babies exercises (don’t ask), and spent more time on my hands and knees these last few weeks than I have in my entire life. (I really should have invested in knee pads.) I’ve also turned in all my Go RVing assignments, written a few drafts for my blogs, cleaned the RV multiple times, and stocked my fridge and freezer with food. I even trimmed my bangs just in case I was subconsciously being stressed out by them and besides labor is uncomfortable enough without being poked in the eyes. Still no baby. Maybe I’m going to be the first woman to be pregant forever and I’ll get to be on the cover of Time or something.

In the meantime, here is Thing 2’s birth story.

After my less than ideal experience birthing Thing 1, I knew I wanted a different kind of birth if possible. Recovering from a c-section was awful but what was worse was not being able to hold him right away and the problems it caused with nursing. With my next baby I was determined to be able to hold him immediately assuming he was healthy and my determination led to a different set of choices.

The Prenatal Days

We started trying for another baby when Thing 1 was a little over a year. It didn’t take long to get pregnant but I ended up miscarrying due to a blighted ovum.  A few months later, I found out I was pregnant again when Brent brought me some Jack in the Box chicken fingers and I almost threw up at the sight of them. Although Jack in the Box could make an 80 year old man feel like he had morning sickness.

Emotional/Spiritual/Relational

This pregnancy was a completely different game than my previous pregnancy. I still went to therapy but only once or twice a month. For the most part, I had overcome the mental struggles and depression. We had bought our first house, a fixer upper, and were busy making it our home. However, the first few years of our marriage had been rough on Brent and I and we faced some problems. It wasn’t fun but he started going to therapy with me and over the course of the pregnancy we began to communicate better and develop an even deeper understanding of each other. I’m so thankful that we chose to face and resolve those problems before our second baby arrived.

Physical

Like Thing 1, morning sickness was pretty rough but around 12 weeks it went away. I still didn’t know much about exercise and nutrition but I knew I didn’t want to gain 70 pounds again. Especially since I hadn’t lost all of the weight I had gained with Thing 1. I also knew that eating a pint of ice cream and multiple packs of candy a day wouldn’t help anything so I ate much better in comparison and ended up gaining about half the weight. I hadn’t started strength training at that point in my life but we were busy fixing up our house so without knowing it I was doing all sorts of functional fitness. I remember  shoveling huge piles of dirt at 6 months pregnant as well painting, sanding, and gardening. I was on my feet working and taking care of a toddler for hours every day.

Educational

It never really occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to do a VBAC (vaginally birth after cesarean). In fact during that time VBACs were actually more common than they are now as I would find out eleven years later. In 1999 the ACOG recommended that a doctor to be immediately available to perform a cesarean resulting in many hospitals banning vbacs over the next few years. Luckily, at the time of my pregnancy my hospital had not issued a ban. Unfortunately, the hospital has since changed their policy. Anyway, having a vbac didn’t seem like a big deal or a risk at the time. It seemed like what any healthy woman should do if they so desired.

It should also be noted that due the increase of c-sections (It’s now 1 in every 3 women.) in 2010 the ACOG released less restrictive guidelines on VBACS and said, “most women with one previous cesarean delivery with a low-transverse incision are candidates for and should be counseled about VBAC and offered a TOLAC” (trial of labor after cesarean). Unfortunately, many (most?) doctors and hospitals still stick with the old guidelines even when a repeat cesarean carries more risks compared to a vbac. Even the mainstream Mayo Clinic says,  “The risks associated with a vaginal delivery are lower than the risks associated with a C-section overall.”

All that to say I was determined to experience a natural birth and was willing to take the extra steps in education to make that happen.

We decided to take a Bradley Childbirth Class this time around and read the book, Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way: Revised Edition. It has the worst pictures in a birth book ever but has some really great advice especially for the partner. I also read the The Thinking Woman’s Guide to a Better Birth by Henci Goer. A really good read btw.

Instead of using my previous doctor who was supportive of vbacs, I started seeing a midwife at his practice and planned for a natural birth. We hired the same doula that we had used for our first birth and since I was facing my fears this time around I hoped I’d actually be able to lean into her for support unlike the last time.

Birth

This time around I was impatient and a little worried about having a big baby again so I decided to drink castor oil and have my membranes stripped the day of my due date. Whether it was the castor oil or just a coincidence I don’t know but it worked. I went into a labor a few hours later. I have a few words to describe labor.

Back labor was hell.

It felt like someone was drilling into my spinal column without anesthesia. I moved from my bed to the tub and back again. At one point, I felt like I was going mad and ran around our bedroom screaming. All my preparation felt useless and it became a living nightmare. I wanted to kill anyone said labor could be pleasant or enjoyable. Those women had clearly never experienced back labor. (For the record, I am still hopeful that labor can be pleasant and doesn’t have to be painful but we’ll see in the upcoming days.)

Despite the worse pain in my life, I was determined to have a successful vbac and had learned that the longer I stayed at home laboring the better chance I had of achieving that goal. After what felt like 10,000 years I started to get the urge to push and my doula, who was a midwife in training, checked me to find out I was dilated to 8 cm. Time to go to the hospital.

Getting to the hospital was a blur. I road in my doula’s car “just in case” and Brent followed us. After checking in and getting a room, a nurse scolded me for pushing because my midwife hadn’t arrived. My doula whispered to me and said if I wanted to push gently I could. Thank God because it hurt like hell to not push.

My midwife arrived and checked me I was still at an 8 cm. At this point I was mentally and physically exhausted and felt like I would do anything to get rid of the pain. I asked for an epidural and despite being so far along in labor my midwife thought it would be a good idea so I could get some rest before I pushed. A few minutes later I felt the relief of the epidural and it wasn’t long before I fell asleep for a few hours.

Early in the morning, my midwife came back and found I still had a “lip” around my cervix. In other words, I wasn’t 100% dilated so she pushed back the lip and asked for the epidural to be turned off. What?!?! No, I begged for it to be left on but she insisted that the baby would be out before it wore off.

Wrong.

What we didn’t know (or if my midwife knew she didn’t tell me) was Thing 2 was posterior or facing up instead of being in the ideal position of looking at my backbone where the smallest part of his head comes out first. This was why I was having such ferocious back labor. His skull was grinding against my spine. The same with pushing. For over two hours, I pushed what felt like a stuck bowling ball.

If you remember from Thing 1’s birth story I had a few issues with birth. While I was no longer totally grossed out by birth, there was no way I was going to look in a mirror and Brent was not allowed to look down there either. (He doesn’t have any issues with birth but totally respects my feelings.) My midwife suggested Brent sit in between my legs and we would both pull on opposites ends of a towel while I pushed. Ummm….no. But my midwife insisted so she draped a small towel over that area and would periodically peek under to towel to check my progress. In hindsight, it was kinda funny. The towel pushing also really helped me to push more efficiently and it felt good to work as a team.

Finally two hours later, I saw Thing 2’s face looking right up at me. He never did turn and came out posterior. My midwife took my hands and slipped them under his armpits and I pulled him the rest of the way out and up to my chest. A completely different experience than having my baby whisked by me in the operating room.

We spent the night in my hospital room and he never left my side. It was wonderful. The nurses on the other hand were less than wonderful. It seems they had to come in every five minutes for something. At one point, I was falling asleep and someone came in rudely insisted I get out of bed and sit on a sitz bath. Later, another woke me and Thing 2 up and said we “had to nurse”. But after my previous birth I really didn’t care too much. They were just doing their job and I was just happy to have not been sliced open and have my baby by my side.

Postpartum

I don’t know if it was not having a c-section or being in a better mental space or both but postpartum was much easier this time around. Recovering from a vaginal birth wasn’t a walk in the park. I had torn and had stitches but it sure was a heck of a lot easier than a recovering from a c-section. I did have some postpartum depression but it wasn’t as bad as the first time.

Nursing went well and my milk came in much quicker than with my previous delivery. I wasn’t hooking myself up to a breast pump for hours a day. That was a huge relief.

My biggest challenge was Thing 1. He and I were so close (we still are) and he wasn’t particularly excited about his new baby brother. In fact, a few days after bringing the baby home, he grabbed my cheeks in anger and screamed in my face. It broke my heart to see him so upset but with time he realized that he was still loved.

What I learned

I learned that hard work pays off. I spent hours educating myself and preparing for a vbac. I learned you have to stay flexible. Getting an epidural wasn’t part of my plan but it turned out to be a good choice because it allowed me to get some rest which helped with the two hours of pushing that followed.

I learned that nutrition makes a difference. As I said in my other birth post, I ate a terrible high sugar diet with Thing 1 and gained almost 70 pounds. While my diet was far from perfect with Thing 2, I did “watch what I ate” and gained about half the weight. Thing 2 weighed a full two pounds less than Thing 1.

Most importantly, I learned love multiplies. Before Thing 2 was born, I remember thinking how could I possibly ever love another child as much as Thing 1. I know that may sound weird but it was something that would cross my mind every so often. I’m not the kind of woman who necessarily bonds with my babies while they are still in utero. I wish I was but I’m just not. For me they feel more like aliens than babies until that first look. However, within minutes of holding Thing 2 I was in love and just like Thing 1 that love grew stronger every day until I thought I would burst. I still think that even with an almost teen and teenager.

If You are Interested in a VBAC

Choosing to have a VBAC or a repeat cesarean is a very personal decision. What is right for one woman may be very wrong for another. What is important is understanding the facts for each choice and finding a care provider who is a straight shooter instead of fear monger.  You need a provider who educates truthfully, listens and respects your body and your choices. For me having a VBAC, while hard, was worth all the effort. For women interested in VBACS I suggest the following sites.

Improving Birth
International Cesarean Awareness Network (ICAN)
VBACfacts
Birth Without Fear

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Keep up with my kettlebell workouts, real food recipes, and more in one of three ways! 1. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. 2. Subscribe to the RSS Feed or 3. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook. Simple dimple!

Journey with our family on the road at Newschool Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States.

The post The Birth of Thing 2 – My Successful Vbac appeared first on Girl Heroes.

Still no baby here. My “due date” isn’t until April 5th so while I’m more than ready for his arrival and really uncomfortable I’m not worried. After all due dates are really just “guesstimates”. Babies come when they are ready not when they are “due”.

As I’m preparing for the birth of Thing 3, I decided I wanted to reminisce and reflect on my previous births. While my first birth was far from a tragedy, it was on some level traumatic and far from ideal. It left physical and mental scars that took time to heal. Perhaps in sharing my story someone else will feel less alone or less crazy or more hopeful or something. If anything it’s nice for me to look back and see how much I have learned and grown since the birth of Thing 1 and, of course, to remember falling in love with Thing 1 all over again.

The Prenatal Days – A Huge Bag of Mixed Emotions

I found out I was pregnant with Thing 1 about a month and a half after a trip to India where I had gotten really sick. I actually went to the doctor and asked for antibiotics because I thought I was still sick with a lingering stomach virus. The doctor advised me to wait over the weekend and if I didn’t feel better he would do some testing. A few days later, I took a pregnancy test and was surprised to find out out I was pregnant. It wasn’t particularly “good timing”. I was getting ready to move to a new town, finishing college, and on top of those things I was struggling with depression and had been recently diagnosed with a personality disorder (Borderline).

Emotional/Relational/Spiritual

It was a long 9 months. We had recently moved to Ventura from Santa Barbara and I had very few friends. Most of my days were spent at home crying. If you have ever faced the true despair that real depression brings you’ll understand what I mean. It’s more than a “bad day”. The days were long, lonely, and empty. During this time, I started going to therapy 2-3 times a week. These were dark days, probably some of the darkest of my life, but even in the midst of the darkness God gave me a few candles to guide my steps as He always does. First and most important was Brent. He was and will always be my best friend and my rock. We clung to each other through that dark tunnel and came out the other side stronger than before. Second, was my therapist and my parents who made therapy possible. I really don’t know if we would have made it through the darkness without them. Thirdly, we started going to a new church and the pastor’s wife took me under her wing. She would pick me up and take me with her while she “toodled around town”, i.e., ran errands. She listening without judgement to my endless lists of fears and worries.

For reasons I won’t go into, I really wanted a boy. The thought of having a girl terrified me more than the thought of giving birth itself. I prayed constantly that I would have a boy. Seeing that my mental state was where it was at the time, we decided it was best to not find out the gender. A few days before I went into labor I went to the mall and bought a pink dress because I figured I’d better start accepting the fact that my baby had a 50/50 chance of being a girl.

Physical

Back in those days I didn’t know much about health and nutrition. Prior to getting pregnant, I had been an unhealthy vegetarian who lived off of cereal, pasta, and canned lima beans. Once my pregnancy cravings kicked in all I wanted was meat and I never looked back.

During those 9 months I took eating for two literally. I remember sitting in class one day and eating a packs of peanut M&Ms, Kit-Kats, and Twizzlers, one right after another, when I noticed a girl staring at me. This is how I ate my entire pregnancy. I ate a full pint of ice cream almost daily. I didn’t get full blown gestational diabetes but did have to take the the long 3 hour test because of the results of my first test. It was no surprise that I put nearly 70 pounds on my 118 pound body.

Before I was pregnant exercise consisted of an occasional run around the track at college. I thought if I could run a mile it meant I was “healthy”. Once I was pregnant forget about running. I didn’t do any exercise until we joined the YMCA late in my pregnancy and I took up swimming a few days a week because it felt good to be weightless even if it meant swimming in a plaid tent.

Educational

Although childbirth is an act of nature, it is so important to educate ourselves especially at this point in time when many (most?) doctors want to turn it into a medical condition. Not to to mention how the media falsely portrays childbirth conditioning most women to think it “has” to be awful and painful. Like most new mothers, I took a class but was so TERRIFIED that I zoned out every time I was there to cope with my fear. I fully embraced that birth was going to be excruciatingly painful. Not only did the thought of giving birth scare me but it disgusted me as well. Of course I read What to Expect When Expecting which is the WORST pregnancy book out there but at the time I didn’t know any better. Unfortunately, my lack of education showed when it came time to birth.

The Birth – Classic Path to a C-Section

I went into labor on my own on April 21, 2000. I can’t remember much except that it hurt. HURT!  Of course, it did because that was what I was fully expecting to happen. If only I had listened and took the time to learn the pain management skills that were taught in my class. What would have been even more important would have been to take the time to work through my fears and preconceptions regarding birth. But I was where I was and that was at a place of fear.

What followed next was a classic path to a c-section. First, I went into the hospital too early at only a few centimeters dialated. Next, I asked for an epidural right away. I’m not 100% against epidurals (I do think it’s healthier for mama and baby to go without but so far I’ve never done that) but asking for one during early labor can slow it down which is exactly what happened. One intervention lead to the next. I was put on my back (not good) and since my labor slowed they gave me pitocin. Pitocin can make contractions unnaturally strong which can affect the baby’s heart rate. The pitocin, laying on my back, continuous fetal monitoring, and fear was a recipe for a c-section. After many hours of a slowed labor and a the baby’s heartrate going up and down, the doctor decided it was best to have a c-section.

I don’t blame my doctor’s decision. He is a great doctor and was wonderful during the c-section. They took me to the OR and upped my epidural. Brent came in and stayed at my head under the sheet looking at me with intense love and reassurance the entire time. I can’t imagine what it would have been like without him.

Before they cut me open, I remember asking my doctor if I was numb. He asked if I could feel him pinching my skin. I couldn’t so he proceeded with the surgery. The surgery didn’t hurt but I could feel pulling and tugging. Thing 1 came out and the doctor said, “It’s a boy.” For a moment, I forgot I was in the middle of surgery and was overcome with joy at having a boy! A BOY!!!!!! Our new little boy had a less than ideal apgar score and there was meconium staining so they took him to the NICU for observation.

I only got a glimpse of him, much less a chance to hold him, while they wheeled him by me in a cart. It would be 18 hours until I got to hold my baby. That was the worst part of the whole ordeal.

The next thing I knew I was given a shot and went out like a light. I woke up later in a recovery room and then later in the room I would stay in for 5 days. The only thing I can remember about the next few hours was being in the most pain I had ever been in in my life and pressing a button that gave me pain medicine. Oh and I was thirsty, so very thirsty, but they would only let me have ice chips.

The following day nurses came in to poke or prod me but I still had not seen my baby. Brent was going back and forth between me and the NICU. Finally, a midwife who owned the birth center where I had taken my childbirth class, was visiting someone in the hospital. She stopped to see me and found out I hadn’t seen my baby. Immediately, she went to the nurses and asked that I be able to see him. It wasn’t long before I was put into a wheelchair and taken to the NICU.

Thing 1 had his own room and was soooo big (Almost 10 pounds!) compared to all the other babies in the NICU. Although there was nothing wrong with him he was still under “observation”. It broke my heart that he had to lay there all alone when his mama was just down the hall. I didn’t know enough nor did I have the confidence at the time to question hospital protocol so I kept being wheeled down there every few hours to see him. Finally after a few days they released him to my room. Then a few days later I was released to go home.

For me, it had been a confusing, emotionally draining, and verging on traumatic five days.

Postpartum – Things Get Worse Before Better

Recovering from a c-section sucks. I don’t think I had ever or have since been so sore. It felt like someone had forced me to do 5 million sit-ups at gun point. But that was nothing compared to the emotional pain I felt at not being able to nurse my baby like I had planned.

Since Thing 1 had been immediately taken away from me, I had not got to nurse him much so my milk was sooo very slow to come in. When it did finally come in there wasn’t much. This isn’t uncommon for c-section moms. If you haven’t nursed a baby it’s hard to describe the desire to nourish them. It’s overwhelming and, for me, it defined the next few weeks of who I was. Since I wasn’t making enough milk I saw myself as a failure and became crazy obsessed with increasing my milk supply. After almost every feeding, I would pump for about an extra hour. This added up to 8-12 hours of pumping a day. It was painful physically but mentally excruciating. In hindsight, I was not well but we didn’t have much of a support system at the time nor did we know better.  Brent and I were fumbling along together. I, desperate to nourish my baby, was feeling like a failure and fighting postpartum depression. He, desperate to provide love and support to me, was taking care of our home on very little sleep.

Those few weeks after birth were long, dark, and lonely but eventually, my milk supply caught up with the demand. Well mostly, I still had to supplement with formula a little bit. I walked in my college graduation with a forced smile. My c-section healed and we eventually found our new normal as a family of three. Day by day, I fell in love with our new son a little more. In the process, my depression and severe emotional struggles faded to what would eventually become a memory.

What I learned – God Heals and Babies and Birth Matter

First, I learned that God heals. Not to get all “religious” on you but this is the only way I can put it. He not only healed my physical wounds but the emotional ones as well. Having our first son was a huge step taken towards wholeness. It may not have been what I had planned for my life but it turned out to be what God knew I needed. Fourteen years later, I can’t even begin to imagine my life without Thing 1. He is an amazing child and one of the best “surprises” I have ever been given.

Secondly, I learned the importance of educating myself about childbirth and facing my fears surrounding it. For many women, including myself, it’s not enough to read What to Expect When Expecting or go to any birth class. There were fears that needed addressing and I should have taken the time to learn about the possible consquences of interventions. I’ll never know what the birth could have been like had I not chosen my first intervention, the epidural. Perhaps I could have had a natural birth and breastfeeding would have gone more smoothly and not become the mental nightmare it was those first few weeks. Or not. I’ll never know.

People often say to mothers who have had a less than ideal birth, “At least you have a healthy baby”, as if that’s all that matters. While I understand the sentiment, it’s not the full picture. A healthy baby is not all that matters. Healthy babies are important but so are healthy mamas and positive birth experiences. 

I was determined that when the time came my second birth would not be a repeat of my first birth. In the meantime, I fell deeply in love my surprise baby, Thing 1.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Keep up with my kettlebell workouts, real food recipes, and more in one of three ways! 1. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. 2. Subscribe to the RSS Feed or 3. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook. Simple dimple!

Journey with our family on the road at Newschool Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States.

The post The Less Than Perfect Birth of My Perfect Baby, Thing 1 (and what I learned from my “emergency c-section”) appeared first on Girl Heroes.

We, as women, are bombarded every day with mixed messages. At the grocery store check out line we are told how to get flat abs, have better sex, and “perfect hair”. The ultimate message being we aren’t enough.

Then we log onto Facebook and see our friends sharing images or articles with the message “Real Women Have Curves” or  bashing (or praising) Maria Kang for posting a meme about excuses or a multitude of other anti-body shaming messages. Don’t get me wrong. I’m NOT for body shaming and I’ve seen some really really great articles on body loving. I’m glad women are speaking up and saying it’s okay to love our bodies as they are because that couldn’t be more true no matter what you look like.

No matter what you look like.

Not nice.

Because sometimes the attempt at body love goes too far one way and depending on where you are on the spectrum of body types the message for many women still is “you are not enough”. Often this message is coming from (well intentioned) friends and family and that can be harder to hear than the messages we get from media outlets. We know that _____ (insert company) wants to sell us _____ (insert product) because it will supposedly make us more attractive, successful, or desirable. I think most of us also know that that message is also a load of crap.

It’s important in this social media backlash against the ideal (whatever that may be because depending on whether you are looking at Vogue, Fitness, or a mens magazine I see more than one ideal represent.) to remember that these women are human and no amount of dieting, makeup, or plastic surgery can change that fact. The woman with the tummy tuck, breast augmentation, face lift, and hair color is just as real as the crunchy hippy wearing nothing but a faded sundress.

NOT nice no matter how you look at it.

Just as we shouldn’t make an overweight person feel less than. We shouldn’t make the skinny woman feel as if she’s not a real woman because she doesn’t have curves. Or call the girl with the six pack abs and sculpted deltoids a “man” or worse (in my opinion) selfish because she chooses to make choices that keep her looking lean and fit. Or assume people who work hard on their appearance (physically or financially) are  self-centered. Or declared that someone is motivated by fitspo is shallow.

That’s not to say certain behaviors are not sometimes signs of underlying issues. Excessive plastic surgery, over exercising, over eating, or restrictive eating are potentially dangerous habits that should be addressed but last I heard having issues doesn’t make us less than human. Having issues makes us human. And humans, all humans, are worthy of love and respect.

People are so much more complex than the endless list stereotypes we stick on them.

You are valuable six pack or not.

You are valuable skinny or not.

You are valuable curves or not.

You are valuable with or without plastic surgery.

You are valuable as mother or not.

You are valuable in a relationship or single.

The list goes on.

Nothing can make you more or less valuable.

Nothing can you make you more or less “a real woman”.

Nothing.

You are enough as you are. You are valuable because you are you.

Don’t let any media with its narrow ideals or well intentioned social media meme tell you otherwise.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Keep up with my kettlebell workouts, real food recipes, and more in one of three ways! 1. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. 2. Subscribe to the RSS Feed or 3. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook. Simple dimple!

Journey with our family on the road at Newschool Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States.

The post Are you a “real” woman? appeared first on Girl Heroes.

It’s not often that I sit down and feel I need to write but tonight is one of those nights.

On the first of this month, I wrote that I was going to take on a different kind of challenge, forgiveness.  Forgiveness February is what I called it. I had a series of posts I thought I’d write discussing the topic of forgiveness.

To be honest, I forgot about it.

But God didn’t.

I’ve been in a pretty good place with relationships for the last few years. Sure there have been some bumps and a person or two who I decided it was best to distance myself from but overall things have been good in the relationships department.

Then a few days ago as this month neared its close, I got a simple Facebook message and friend request.

From someone who had hurt me. Deeply.

My first response was to hit delete, “not now”, or ever. Or throw my phone across the room.

For over five years, I have wanted to let her know how. much. she. hurt. me.

Then I remembered I had declared Forgiveness February in my little world.

I knew.

I knew in my heart God was asking me to let light shine into a tiny but dark crevice of my life.

I knew I was to finally, after 5 years, extend true forgiveness.

For twenty four hours I chewed on my thoughts. I read reread the message looking for cryptic signs of insincerity.

Then I replied to the message and accepted the virtual handshake.

Accepting a friend request isn’t a big deal but realizing I still held some resentment and letting it go was.

Accepting that friend request and replying to the message opened up a space to let peace trickle in.

Peace I had convinced myself I had but didn’t.

Yeah, it really was Forgiveness February.

Or perhaps I should of called it Freedom February because with forgiveness comes freedom.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Keep up with my kettlebell workouts, real food recipes, and more in one of three ways! 1. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. 2. Subscribe to the RSS Feed or 3. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook. Simple dimple!

Journey with our family on the road at Newschool Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States!

The post Forgiveness February – Not What I Expected appeared first on Girl Heroes.

A few weeks ago, we visited a small church. As part of the service four tables or stations with reflective activities were set up around the room.  At one of the station there were thin slices of tree trunk on which we were invited to write a word of the year. I chose the word, “trust”.

Trust is my comfort food of words like hot bowl of chili on a cold night.

_____

Last night as we gathered around the table with our nomadic friends I was surprised when someone brought up “word of the year”. We went around the circle sharing our words. When it was my turn I went to my old standby, “trust”.

Trust is a an important word to me.

It’s oxygen to my soul.

But trust can also be like a soft warm bed. It can be so cozy that it becomes more of an excuse to sleep the days away rather than the faith that the bridge will hold when you cross it.

As 2013 grew closer by the minute, another friend gently questioned my word of the year as if it might be a cop out.

It was.

It’s not that I don’t doubt my future and my purpose from time to time but over the years I have learned that things do work out. I’ve learned I can lean into God and he mysteriously carries me out of life’s fires. Slowly but steadily, I’ve learned to trust more than fear. We wouldn’t have left our comfortable life in Ventura for a life on the road if I didn’t have a fair amount of trust.

I quickly came up with a new word “confidence”. A word which, if you think about it, is really only a few steps from trust. Another friend suggested, “acceptance.” Hmmmm…acceptance is always good and I certainly could use a little more self acceptance.

The clock struck 12. Brent and I shared our first kiss of 2013. We headed back to our RV and tumbled into bed.

_____

Around 4 am, I awoke and heard a whisper over my pounding headache, “Movement.”

Movement.

My word of the year.

It’s a bit ironic if you think about it. We are full time travelers in an RV and rarely stay more than two weeks in one place. We are always on the move.

But I heard it over and over again as I lay in bed my skull splitting from too many glasses of wine.

Movement. Movement. Movement.

Then I realized even though we spent last year on the move visiting over half the states in our country, I’ve been stuck.

Stuck in a rut in my mind.

For a long time.

_____

Yesterday morning, my family and I sat around the table writing down areas of character we would like to see grow, things we would like to experience, places we would like to go, and skills we would like to learn this year.  The first thing I wrote on my list was “follow through”.

Following through = Movement

I also wrote that I wanted to learn to play the guitar. I got a guitar for my birthday more than 10 years ago and I’ve been wanting to pick it up since.

Strumming = Movement

I’ve been repeating stories in my head for years. Stories that I want to get out of my head and onto paper.

Writing = Movement

I’ve been wanting to deepen my relationship with and understanding of God.

Prayer and Study = Movement

Of course, there is my goal to walk 3,000,000 steps in 2013 because movement matters.

Walking = Movement (Quite literally ;-))

Then there was the kicker.

“You trust so you can move,” said the whisper.

For a few weeks, a particular quote has been coming to my mind repetitively.

“A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” – most often attributed to John Shedd

Ships are meant to sail not to stagnate.

Movement.

Movement of the body.

Movement of the mind.

Movement of the soul.

This year I’m challenging myself to sail out of the harbor and brave the rough waters because I know a God who will calm the sea.

First there is trust.

Then comes movement.

Do you have a word of the year? Happy New Year!!!

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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Journey with our family on the road at New School Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States!

The post My Word of the Year: Movement appeared first on Girl Heroes.

While I love exercising outside not having the option to exercise inside has been getting to me.

As the weather changes my workout windows are getting smaller. It’s getting dark earlier and the mornings are getting cold. I’ve been trying hard not to complain because I realize getting to live in an RV and see 48 (hopefully 49) states is an amazing opportunity. I love my life. It’s just that bugs, wind, dirt, and tiny space can get old. Yet, it is a small price to pay for living my dream.

Anyway I felt like I needed a break so I gave myself permission to take a week off without feeling guilty on the condition I would get back into my routine the following week.

Once the week ended, cold or not, I eased back into my routine with four workouts in four different locations.

Tuesday I did a strength based workout at our campsite.

Followed by foam rolling in the RV. It’s a little tight but with the weather changing I’m not left with a lot of options.

Thursday we filmed Minnesota for my state kettlebell workout series.

Friday I did my second strength based workout of the week.

Thing Two now takes about half of my pictures for the blog. I think he is doing a great job and I particularly loved this shot with the yellow leaves and sunlight.  Of course I’m his mom, but I think he has an excellent eye for a 9 year old.  Anyway, he loves it and he feels really proud when I post the pictures he takes.

Sunday we went hiking and in the evening I did my third strength based workout for the week. I really didn’t want to workout. It was near dusk and getting cold. As I set up my pull up bar I began to fill angry about “having” to set up again and all the dirt on my pants. I know it sounds ridiculous when looking at the beautiful  hillside but it was how I was feeling in the moment.

However, something happened a few minutes later that reinvigorated my love for working out outside and reminded me of my blessings.

Wild horses walked across the ridge behind our campsite!!! (See the tiny brown and black dots in the center!)

My spirits instantly soared and I remembered how lucky I am to be healthy and able to do what I am doing. Truth be told, I also sort of felt like a spoiled brat complaining about the cold and dirt (Hangs head.) but I’m only human.

I took a longer rest between sets than usual to walk closer for a picture fo this beauty.

I’m so thankful.

Even for the dirt and bugs.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Keep up with my kettlebell workouts, real food recipes, and more in one of three ways! 1. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. 2. Subscribe to the RSS Feed or 3. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook. Simple dimple!

Journey with our family on the road at New School Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States!

The post Lifted Spirits (and Kettlebells) appeared first on Girl Heroes.

May is the last full month of spring before summer “officially” kicks off with Memorial Day.

Longer days make summer the perfect time for evening strolls.

If you are like me (and most Americans) you could use a little more movement. This month in anticipation of my summer strolls (and if I’m honest, swimsuit season), I’m focusing on the most basic form of movement— walking. I’m taking on a personal 10,000 steps, the number most experts recommend, a day challenge.

Movement Matters May – A 10,000 steps a day challenge

A few years ago, I discovered just how love walking and its importance to my overall calorie burn. According to my Bodybugg, I burned way more calories on days I walked a lot than on the days I worked out but was otherwise sedentary. What I got what movement of all kinds, even the humble walk, matters. Walking has many benefits other than burning calories.

Health Benefits of Walking

• Our bodies are designed to walk
• Low impact – walking puts very little stress on the body
• Improves or maintains cardiovascular health
• Helps or maintains weight loss which results in a long list of health benefits.
• Reduces likelihood of some diseases such as diabetes
• Increases longevity
• Great stress reliever
• Improves mood
• Encourages mental clarity
• Can be meditative

And while this isn’t necessarily a “health” benefit, walking doesn’t require any fancy equipment. This month for my 10,000 steps challenge I’m going to be using a simple pedometer. I use the Omron HJ-203 Pedometer with Activity Tracker. It’s fairly inexpensive and seems to be accurate.

While walking boasts many benefits and is easy, I still often find myself putting it on the back burner in place of “more important” tasks at hand. You know things like Facebook.

Not this month.

10,000 steps a day.

Why walk? Why not do the 10,000 kettlebell swing challenge again?

While I enjoy more extreme challenges, I’m also trying to slow down, simplify, get honest with myself, and get back to the basics. Nothing is more basic than walking. Plus there are all those benefits I mentioned.

But…. but… but….

What if 10,000 steps is too much? Don’t fret! One study showed that “individuals achieving > or = 5000 steps had a substantially lower prevalence of adverse cardiometabolic health indicators than those obtaining fewer steps.” So if 10,000 steps seems like too many…start where you are. Try working up to 5000 first and then go from there. Eventually you will reach 10,00 steps.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

If you enjoyed this post you can follow one of three ways! 1. Subscribe to the RSS Feed 2. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook, or 3. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. Simple dimple!

Check out our family’s adventures being inspired to follow you dreams at New School Nomads as we take a year long RV road trip through the United States!

The post Movement Matters May – 10,000 Steps a Day Movement Challenge and the Health Benefits of Walking appeared first on Girl Heroes.

I remember being teenager and happily thinking that no one in my family had gotten cancer. I can remember going over each one of my aunts, uncles, and grandmas faces in my mind and confidently thinking “no cancer”. I may have to worry about tornados, sharks, and roller coasters getting stuck upside down but not cancer.

Little did I know what time would bring.

Early this morning, I found myself googling “Insurance Coverage BRCA Genetic Testing”. If you are unfamiliar with “BRCA”, it’s the breast cancer gene. Fun times.

Two weeks ago, my aunt became a breast cancer survivor overnight.  She underwent a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy because of our family history and having found two lumps that could or could not be cancer. Turns out the lumps were cancer. She was not the first one.

My mom had breast cancer.

My grandma had breast cancer.

My other aunt had breast cancer.

I just found out my great grandma died of ovarian cancer in her 40s.

To add to the list, I spent time on the Force, Facing Our Risks of Cancer Empowered, website and saw that having relatives with melanoma and prostate cancer also increases the risk of developing hereditary breast and ovarian cancer. I have had first and second degree relatives on the same side of the family with both of these cancers as well.

This means all my first and second degree female relatives on one side of the family have had breast cancer with the addition of melanoma and prostate cancer in one male relative. Not to be a doomsdayer but my odds of avoiding cancer don’t really seem all that good anymore.

Sometimes it’s hard to sleep.

My mind the enemy.

I’m considering being genetically tested for the BRCA II and BRCA II genes. Women who carry these genes have a genetically higher chance (up to 80% chance) of being diagnosed with breast cancer.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like a test would be covered by my insurance.  Paying $2000-$5000 out-of-pocket is steep when there is a good chance of getting a “false negative”.  It’s a little complicated but I’ll try to explain. Unless it is “positive”, the test wouldn’t be helpful because my mom, aunt, or grandma haven’t been tested. In other words, a negative is only a true negative when the gene has been identified in another  family member.

My mom’s insurance turned her request for a genetic test down because she was over 50 by five years. Never mind that this was her second round with cancer. My aunt is also over 50 by two years and her insurance wouldn’t cover a genetic test. 

I found my insurance company’s policy.

Genetic testing for a BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutation, associated with genetic counseling, is considered medically necessary when ANY of the following criteria are met:

• Individuals with breast cancer who have 1 relative with breast cancer diagnosed at an early age (less than 45 years) ; OR
• Individuals with breast cancer diagnosed at an early age (premenopausal); OR
• Individuals with breast cancer with multiple primary cancers or bilateral disease; OR
• Individuals who developed epithelial ovarian/ fallopian tube/ primary peritoneal cancer; OR
• Men who developed breast cancer at any age; OR
• Individuals with a personal history of breast cancer, and diagnosed age less than 60 years with a triple negative breast cancer; OR
• Individuals with a personal history of breast cancer, and diagnosed age less than 50 years with a limited family history; OR
• Individuals with a history of breast and/or ovarian cancer at any age with two or more close blood relatives with pancreatic cancer at any age; OR
• Individuals with a history of pancreatic adenocarcinoma at any age with two or more close blood relatives with breast and/or ovarian and/or pancreatic cancer at any age; OR
• Individuals who have 1 or more first or second-degree relatives who meet ANY of the above criteria; when that relative(s) is (are) not available for testing; OR
• Individuals with breast cancer who have 2 or more first, second or third-degree relatives (related through a single lineage) with breast or epithelial ovarian/ fallopian tube/ primary peritoneal cancer; OR
• Relatives of individuals with documented mutations in either the BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene; OR
• Individuals with a family history of 3 or more first, second or third-degree relatives with breast or epithelial ovarian/ fallopian tube/ primary peritoneal cancer, at least 1 of which has breast cancer that develops at or before age 50 years; OR
• Individuals with breast cancer who belong to a population at risk for specific mutations due to ethnic background (e.g., Ashkenazi Jewish, Icelandic, Swedish, Hungarian or Dutch descent).

In a nutshell, since my family members haven’t been tested themselves and are older than 50 by two years, I don’t qualify for genetic testing.

Are the women in my family getting breast cancer by chance or is it genetic? If my family does carry a BRCA gene then it appears we have to wait until cancer makes its ugly appearance in someone under the age of 50 before insurance will cover a test.  Seeing that the age of occurrence keeps going down, I can’t help but worry if I will be that person.

My mind the enemy.

Maybe a genetic test isn’t the answer. Even if I would get the genetic test it’s not a guarantee. I could test negative and still get cancer or I could test positive and not get cancer.

Not wanting to live a life of worry, I’m looking into having a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy. It may sound extreme and, to be honest, it is extreme. Removing body parts isn’t most people’s idea of a walk in the park but neither is cancer.  I really don’t think I want to live my life wondering if I’m next in line and getting constant mammograms. Mammograms that might or might not catch cancer as was the case with my aunt and my grandma.

I know, I sound crazy and, perhaps, I am but I’m not clueless. I’ve spent hours researching my options, reading message boards, and one fact remains: all but one of my 1st and 2nd degree relatives have had breast cancer.

In the meantime, I continue to do what I can: eat well, exercise regularly, and pray to quiet my mind the enemy.

Does anyone have any resources or knowledge on this topic? Would you want to to be genetically tested if you were me? Why or why not?

(Oh and sorry about the downer post. I had to get it off my chest. No pun intended.)

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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Check out our family’s adventures being inspired to follow you dreams at New School Nomads as we take a year long RV road trip through the United States!

The post My Mind the Enemy – A Family History of Cancer appeared first on Girl Heroes.

Hi guys! I hope you are doing well. I still haven’t found the time to edit my last workout video so I thought I’d talk about my current workout and eating habits. Because that’s exciting, right.

In my last post, I mentioned that living on the road in and of itself is challenge enough and I don’t need to add any more challenges to my life. I’m learning a entirely new way of life. I can’t go to the same grocery stores week to week. I gave away a number of appliances I used to use. Unlike California, the weather is unpredictable making it tough to workout. The RV is small so cooking meals and working out inside is challenging but certainly not impossible. Before we set out, I thought I would have lots of free time but the reality is I have very little. We do school in the morning and then explore in the afternoon. Sometimes we explore all day and then do school in the evening. We’ve also driven almost 8000 miles since we left in late October and, due to motion sickness, I can’t do much reading or writing during that time. Not to mention eating on driving days proves difficult with fast food always being a temptation. We’ve managed to eat very little fast food but I don’t care if I ever eat another turkey sandwich again. All this to say that I’ve had a number of things to adapt to and it took me a little longer than I expected.

I hope I don’t’ sound like I’m complaining. These are all “challenges” I’m more than happy to take on because I’m living one of my dreams. Yes, living on the road is a challenge but it’s also amazing. Amazing in the truest sense. But there are some facts to consider as I continue to learn and adapt to this new way of life.

Love me some sunshine!

Facts

Fact – I’m a sugar addict.

Fact – Sugar does nothing good for me. Not only is it related to a host of health problems it contributes to depression, a struggle of mine.

Fact – We are seeing hundreds of new places and trying the food is part of the experience. I don’t want to miss out. (Ahem…beignets in New Orleans.)

Fact – It’s important to me to support sustainable and healthful farming practices, i.e., grass fed meats, organic vegetables, local farms, ect.

Fact – I don’t want to go back to Ventura in a year or two (we are already considering doing year two) having gained a lot of weight. Some is fine but not a lot. I don’t have “skinny girl genes”. I don’t like the word skinny but you know what I mean. I have to be mindful of my food and exercise or I’ll end up overweight. I don’t want that.

Fact – I feel slightly self-conscious filming my videos. As you can see I’m NOT fat but I’m not as lean as I was. People can be really harsh and it makes me nervous especially on YouTube although I haven’t had anyone say anything mean yet.

Fact – This is a biggie. I have my RCK re-certification coming up in a few months. This means I have to re-pass all the certification requirements including the snatch test. The snatch test is 100 snatches in 5 minutes with the 12k (26.5 lb) kettlebell if I weigh less than 124 pounds. Otherwise, I have to use the 16K (35 lb) kettlebell. Since giving away my scale I have no idea what I weigh. I know it’s more than 124 but not sure by how much. (I don’t *think* it’s a lot) Which means I either have to lean out a bit or train to use the 16K but I have an injured shoulder right now. I don’t think it would be wise to use that much weight on my shoulder especially doing the explosive ballistic movements like the snatch.

Fact – I like feeling strong. It lifts my spirits and makes me appreciate my body on a deeper level despite its “imperfections”. Bottom line is being strong is good for me emotionally and physically and I’m not as strong as I was before we left.

My Solution

So considering all the “facts” of my life I have come up with a livable solution.

Food – We eat the majority of our meals at home so those meals will continue to be nourishing foods. I haven’t and don’t plan to buy any processed foods. I’ve been making an effort to get more local foods along the way and plan to keep doing. But I won’t think any less of myself for shopping at Walmart and buying non-organics. In many of the smaller towns this is the only option. We are not planning our trip around food, we are planning it around adventure, education, and experience. This means that sometimes Walmart is our only option and when we are out in about I want to experience the food including beignets in New Orleans.

Which leads me too…

Cafe Du Monde New Orleans

I’m not cutting out sugar completely. I started off the New Year planning to go back to the “no refined sugar” life style I lived for almost four years but realized that I would be too sad to miss out on beignets in New Orleans and Jeni’s Spledid Ice Cream in Nashville. I’m not going to eat or cook with refined sugar at home but when we get to Key West in a few weeks I’m going to eat a slice of Key Lime Pie.

For the last four years living in my sticks and bricks house, I’d estimate 80-90% of my food has been nourishing and the other 10-20% would nachos or other junk foods. (Let’s be honest, our bodies respond to most starches like they are sugar so it was more of a mental strategy than physical.) Allowing real sugar certainly makes it more challenging and the cravings afterwards are unbelievable. But I accept that is how my body will respond and I’ve been preparing myself mentally before I order that scoop of ice cream. I know if I eat it I will want more (and more and more) but just knowing and expecting this makes it easier to ride out the cravings however uncomfortable they are.  It also helps me to be selective about what I eat and ask myself, “Is this going to be worth the cravings that will follow?” It’s not easy but, for now, it’s worth it and doable.

My favorite workout partner

Fitness – We’ve finally got to warm sunny weather (Florida) and my sprits have lifted. I think I may have a touch of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Working out should be easier now. Although time is still an issue but it’s not an excuse. Brent and I started the Enter The Kettlebell program again. It consists of clean and press ladders 3 days a week using heavy, medium, and light days and two days of “kettlebell practice”. It’ simple, methodical, and effective plan for increasing strength. It also doesn’t take much time and can be done inside the RV if necessary. I followed it to prepare for my RKC almost two years ago. I’m modifying the plan slightly by using double kettlebells and the other two days I’m going to practice TRX or full body metabolic kettlebell workouts to film for my state workout series.

Enter the Kettlebell - Light Day

I’m still a little torn regarding my upcoming RKC recertification. I’m leaning towards leaning out rather than risk greater injury to my already injured shoulder. I’m trying to do turkish get ups to strengthen my tweaked shoulder but I really don’t see myself using a kettlebell heavier than the 12k for ballistic exercises soon enough to be able to pass. Which leaves me with the questions to buy a scale or not? I haven’t minded not having one and now that I’m adapting to this new way of life I think my body will naturally get to where it needs to be. I think. It would be terrible to show up for my re-certification and not pass because I was, unknowingly, a few pounds heavier.

So that’s that. Where I’ve been and where I’m at now. It feels good to have a flexible livable plan. I’ve already have 5 weeks of workouts planned, written out, and ready to check off. I found a nearby farmer’s market and a farm that sells grassed meats that we will go to later this week. It’s an adventure for sure and thanks for coming along!

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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Check out our family’s adventures at New School Nomads as we take a year long RV road trip through the United States!

The post Adventures in Food and Fitness appeared first on Girl Heroes.

I’ve been feeling a little down and decided I needed a little fun.

And a little exercise.

And a new little workout partner.

You’ll never take me seriously again. Not that you ever did.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

If you enjoyed this post you can follow one of three ways! 1. Subscribe to the RSS Feed 2. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook, or 3. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. Simple dimple!

Check out our family’s adventures at New School Nomads as we take a year long RV road trip through the United States!

The post Workout Partner (Me and the Mini-Mule) appeared first on Girl Heroes.