First Christmas

Meant to post this on December 31st… time flies when you’re getting settled into new routines.

The week of Christmas we moved into our house here in Oklahoma. My dad took time off work to come help move all the furniture, then help unpack everything and clean leading up to Christmas.

Traditionally we celebrate Christmas on the afternoon/evening of the 24th but due to the move my mother arrived that afternoon and we met my brother and his girlfriend Helena out for dinner. Then on the 25th, like most Americans, we celebrated Christmas with our traditional family meal. Felt a bit different but I was so happy my family made the trip up to celebrate with us.

The first Christmas of many more to come for Tove. It’s going to be so much fun 🎄🤶🏼

3 + 4

Today Tove is 4 months old.

I didn’t write a blog post for her third month, mostly because it felt like chore on my never ending to-do list but also because 143 is a special number to ben and I. It means I love you; there is 1 letter in I, 4 in love, and 3 in you.. 143. A lot of the time I will message Ben 143 instead of writing it out and it’s been this way for as long as I can remember. Ben’s favorite number and his football number was always 4, my number is 3. On top of that.. Tove was born at 4:31 in the morning. So it kind of made sense in my mind to group these two months and blog posts into one.

Tove is still as happy as can be.. until she’s not. She’s finding her voice so lots of random shrieks coming from her these last two months. We’ve had a few tough car rides where she wouldn’t stop screaming. She’s growing to be tall like her Pappa, she’s ~2 feet tall now and we’re convinced she weighs more than 15 pounds. She’s still in size 1 diapers but she’s outgrown all of her newborn and the majority of her size 0-3 month clothing.

We’re still nursing and luckily after 2 weeks of oral exercises Tove’s latch has improved and she’s all healed. She’s definitely teething and putting all the things in her mouth. Tove has also started to hold things with her cute little hands as well. I have conversations with her daily and she’s so close to saying “hej!”

Ben and I live for her giggles and I never want her snuggles to end. We are so in love and my only goal in life is to keep her as happy as she’s been for as long as possible 💓

Don’t forget to feed yourself

I have been hungry for three days now. Doesn’t matter how much I eat or how many supplements I drink. Breastfeeding is exhausting me and triggering my eating disorder to a whole different level.

Being a new mom is hard, there are so many changes that happen overnight that are impossible to prepare for. You have no idea what life is going to look like on a minute to minute basis and it’s all about the new life you brought into the world.

I just want to take a moment and say how much it just SUCKS after having a baby. Yes it’s beautiful and magical and you have a being who you created in the world, but it’s okay for women to say that it sucks also.

I’ve struggled with eating disorders for the last 15+ years of my life and it was a struggle during the pregnancy, and it continues to be a struggle postpartum.

I don’t have the same animosity towards my body that I used to have because it never got me anywhere. It only let Ed (eating disorders) walk into my life easier. However, I will say that the changes are hard to swallow. The flappy boobs with big nipples don’t make you feel as sexy as you used to be. The wider hips.. well those can stay 😋 but the loose jiggly belly, naaah. It’s an adjustment phase, I’m learning to live in this new body just as much as Tove is learning to live in hers.

I just get so disheartened when I think of all the moms out there who are affected by the “snap back” culture. Priorities immediately change and it’s ridiculous to think that a new mom needs to be struggling to fit in work outs when she can barely fit in the time to shower.

Another thing I wish people would stop doing is commenting on women’s bodies after birth (before and during as well but that’s beside the point). Whether you are meaning to give a compliment or not doesn’t matter, just keep your thoughts to yourself. “You lost all of the weight so fast!” You don’t know if that mom is struggling to keep weight on and you may have just sent her on a downward spiral because of the unnecessary comment. Just keep it to yourself.

I guess I didn’t realize that after pregnancy I’d still need to consume more calories in order to keep my supply of breast milk ample. In fact, I’m consuming more calories now than I was during my pregnancy and it’s exhausting. Before being pregnant I regularly struggled with finding time to eat. Especially when I worked. I stand a lot at work so sometimes I don’t notice my body’s hunger cues, leading me to go long hours without eating. Which then leads to me being nauseous to the point where I can’t eat. A downward spiral really.

The thing is.. I used to be able to come home and medicate with cannabis to quell the nausea and relax enough to sit down and eat. These days things look a little different. It takes me longer to calm down and be able to eat. I feel like I’m always behind on meals and with breastfeeding I need to eat even more so I am constantly playing catch up.

Plus I feel like every time I’m finally in the mood to eat, something else happens that needs my attention. The majority of the time it’s Tove, but there’s also moments where Tex needs attention or I get caught up in trying to fit in everything else on my to do list. Luckily Ben is helpful and knows to make me oatmeal in the middle of the night and in the morning. I’m getting better at holding my space but it’s a work in progress.

On top of that I’m still wanting to try to eat healthy because what I eat effects what goes into the breast milk I make for Tove. I find that the majority of snack bars, fig bars, and protein bars are laced with sugar. The same goes for ensure and boost drinks. Drop any recommendations you may have for calorie dense low sugar snacks in the comments, please I beg you.

I guess I just needed to vent a little because I’ve been struggling hard recently.

To all the other moms out there feeling some type of way- it’s okay, you ain’t alone! I just think of the safety guide on airplanes, you can’t put an air mask on someone else if you’re passed out from no oxygen. So mamas, put your air mask on first.

Just Thought You Should Know

Last night when Ben got off work we all got ready to head out for dinner. I had texted him social capital…? when he was on his way home.

We ordered our usual chicken nachos, Ben also got a fajita chicken taco but the elotes…. WOW I could eat that all day every day.

I told him when we were sat on the patio enjoying our food that it reminded me of our dates we used to have when we first met.

The thing is though, last night was so much better than the early dates. We had Tove with us, Ben drank a Topo Chico since he was driving and I had one canned wine (which got me tipsy 🤪) and we were so much more content. I didn’t feel the NEED to drink more or stay out later because I had everything that matters to me.

I’m so proud of Ben as a father and thankful he’s my partner in all of this. We’ve been through a lot together that’s tested our relationship but never once has he given me a reason to doubt his commitment to me and now us. I love you so much babe and I’m honored to give you the chance to create the most special daddy-daughter bond. I love my dad more than words can say and I just know in my heart that Tove is going to feel the same way about you. Thank you for making us feel loved and for rolling with the punches… quite literally when Tove gets at ya 😛

Texas Abortion Ban

This one hits close to home, in more ways than one. Not only did we consider having Tove in Dallas, but we also have family/friends still in Texas. Unfortunately rumor has it that Oklahoma is pushing for similar laws to go into effect here as well. This also hits close to home because like this post I shared on Instagram, there are so many reasons behind why a woman would ever choose to have an abortion.

I got pregnant in 2020 around the time Covid hit. Ben and I were SO EXCITED! Especially since all Ben has ever wanted in life is to be a dad. Having never been pregnant before, we immediately told our family the second I had taken multiple pregnancy tests and they all came back “pregnant”. When I saw the results on the pregnancy tests I cried because I was so happy and emotionally unprepared for what that feeling was going to be. We weren’t trying for a baby but I hadn’t gotten my period and well.. maybe the stars had aligned? So I scheduled an appointment with an OB, little did I know that I was about to be “Vanessa”.

I believe I was 6-8 weeks pregnant when I had my first appointment (this is the first time I’m writing about this and/or thinking about it since I pushed these memories into a “forget” folder in my brain.). Ben was at work so I drove to Edmond on my own and met with the OB for my appointment. Everything was normal until they went to listen for the heartbeat. I laid there on my own as they kept trying to search for one without avail. Something didn’t feel quite right. They told me not to worry because it was still early on in my pregnancy, maybe we were too early in fact and it just hadn’t developed yet. So I was sent to get some blood work/labs done next door and come back for my second appointment in 2 weeks. I left feeling very uneasy, but also had to share the “no news” with Ben that evening.

Was I worried? Hell yeah I was. But I had never been pregnant before and wanted to trust the doctors. However, a few days later I miscarried in the middle of the night in our apartment bathroom. It was a traumatic experience, but I am SO LUCKY that I didn’t need medical intervention. Or that I didn’t have to carry a “baby” to term who never even developed a heartbeat because I was past that 6 week mark. I am still grieving the loss from our first pregnancy, so much so that it totally robbed us of any joy our first trimester with Tove. In fact when I took the pregnancy tests and they came back “pregnant” I cried when I told Ben because I was so damn worried we wouldn’t be able to carry to term again. Plus I was so sick following the miscarriage and it continued well into my pregnancy with Tove. I was barely able to eat, I was violently vomiting all the time and had terrible IBS symptoms.. it was a nightmare. I cried so much in the beginning because I was scared to feel any resemblance of joy in case I got robbed again. We waited until the second trimester to tell our parents this time around and my mom told me “we are your family, you could’ve still told us” and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to share with everyone it was that I didn’t want to have to answer those calls or texts if I had another miscarriage. The aftermath was gut wrenching and emotionally draining and I didn’t want to have to share that with anyone again. Now imagine having to share with them that we had to have an abortion mid-pregnancy because our pregnancy was no longer viable. That’s definitely not something you want to share with the world.

Luckily we now have a beautiful HEALTHY baby, whom I was able to carry to full term but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t called planned parenthood out of fear because I didn’t think I could handle being so sick and losing another child. So to take away these rights from girls and women is so fucking ludicrous, and it hurts my heart for the ones who didn’t have as favorable of outcomes as we did. An abortion isn’t a quick fix or an easy decision, and I for one hope that my daughter will have the right to autonomy over her own body.

Donate to help other women HERE if you’d like.

Be there, or be square.

 

I always wanted to fit in- and I have, for the most part. I fit in almost every locker, cabinet, and tight spot you can put me in. I don’t like it, but I fit. The question is, where do I not fit in?

I’m half of an inch off of being a legal midget in the state of Texas. Some of you laugh, but it’s taken me many years to come to terms with this. I hated being small. I hated being short. I hated being tiny. For the longest time, I hated my height. Until one day I realized that my height didn’t make me, My. It made me short. BUT, that didn’t have to define me.

Then I struggled with my name. “What’s My short for?”  Well, it’s short but it’s not short for anything. It’s simply two letters: M-Y; pronounced “me”. No it doesn’t mean anything. Yes it should be pronounced “my” and trust me (HA!), you might be clever but I’ve heard just about every damn joke by now. I hated introducing myself. I hated meeting new people. I hated signing papers. For the longest time, I hated my name. Until one day I realized that the jokes didn’t make me, My. It made my name different. BUT, that didn’t have to define me.

After that, my background came into question. So many questions, so difficult to explain. Yes I was born in Sweden. No I didn’t have American citizenship. Yes we immigrated to the United States. No my family doesn’t spend holidays together. Yes I wonder what life would have been like. I answered all of the questions that someone who just stepped ashore in a new land should. Until one day I realized that my visa status didn’t make me, My. It made me an alien. BUT, that didn’t have to define me.

Eventually it led to my friendships. Why was I never able to make the same connection that other girls did? Was it my looks? Was it my background? Or was it simply “My”? I struggled often to understand why I wouldn’t and couldn’t have the same relationships others did. I questioned whether I was likable, whether it was the way I looked,or if it was because I was a foreigner. Until one day I realized that the popularity didn’t make me, My. It made me lonely. BUT, that didn’t have to define me.

Recently I’ve been asked to take “personality,” compatibility,” “intelligence,” and “pre-employment” tests. So far no results have led to an interview or any kind of job offer thereafter. It’s made me feel stupid. It’s made me wonder if I need to change who I am as a human being. It’s made me consider altering the way I act and react. It’s made me question a lot. Until one day I realized that the tests didn’t make me, My. They made me undesirable as an employee. BUT, that didn’t have to define me.

No this isn’t a pity party, nor is this a request to be an exception. This is simply a statement of how we mold ourselves into becoming the perfect specimens, yet never achieve perfection.

It’s truly a shame, because I am different.

My entire life I’ve been taught to try to fit in, yet I am that star block you’re shoving into a square hole. I feel like I no longer have an option, if I want to fit I have to be a square. I need to be what they want and who they want in order to be hired. Because without a job My can’t be me.

The Untouchables

Google “untouchables” and you well get two different definitions. The first states that something/someone is unattainable. The second refers to the Hindu caste system, where the untouchables could be rejected on an individual basis or by an entire group of people.

Currently I’m experiencing what it means to be “untouchable,” and not in the bad way. I’m simply wanting something that i shouldn’t. I’m scared as hell of wanting it, but yet here i am.. wanting it anyways. It feels unattainable and way out of my league, and I’m worried that I’ll end up hurting myself in the long run. I’m also experiencing how it feels to be “untouchable”; The second definition, i could easily be rejected. I don’t feel adequate.

I’m normally a pretty straight-forward, no bullshit, blunt bitch. Ask my friends and they know, you don’t mess with My. I will tear people apart with the whit of my tongue, but i will also defend those whom i love till the death of me. But in this situation i feel meek. Is this good for me? Does this suit me? Am i okay with this? I cant put my finger on it!

…and i think that’s where i get stuck. I’m so used to being in control that this feeling is foreign to me. It’s hard, but at the same time i think it’s exactly what i need.

Power is being told you are not loved
and not being destroyed by it.
-Madonna

What It Feels Like

I don’t want to say love is a waiting game…

It’s hard for me to have a blog and try to stay autonomous with my feelings. Those of you who read in the past know i was nothing of the sort. I wrote every emotion, every feeling, i wrote all of it, even if it would come back to bite me in the ass. Now i guess I’m “older” or “more mature”…pssh, bitch please.. I have bills to pay and need a job to do so, otherwise my mouth would be happily running again, and anyone who tells you differently is LYING.

I don’t know how to start this, or if i should start this. But, we all know i’ve never been shy to speak my feelings. HA! He dumped me. Yep.. and this is what it feels like.  I want to say I’m disappointed but the only person to be disappointed in is myself, how much doesn’t that suck? I want to be angry, and for the life of me, I AM. You can’t love someone and just walk away…. it just doesn’t work that way.

I can be all of the negative words you ever heard. I can be a bad person. & i for sure can manipulate you for my own desire. But i never did anything of the sort with this man. I was myself, and i loved him thoroughly. Yes, i wasn’t perfect, hell i wasn’t even 5% perfect. I tried to make him love me… it never seemed to work. Don’t look elsewhere for attention because
you will lose a diamond chasing the glitter. I know, because i did.

Baby I’m thinking it over
What if the way we started made it something cursed from the start
What if it only gets colder
Would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart
Cuz lately I’ve been scared of even thinking ’bout where we are