Two weeks ago I took a trip to Death Valley + Las Vegas. I was attending my third Sacred Pregnancy retreat and a Sacred Living Movement Leadership retreat. It was 10 days of awesome. Sometimes I cannot believe what a fun/amazing/beautiful job I have. I really have the best job in the world and I work with some of the most awe-inspiring women I've ever met.

At the end of our second day at the Sacred Pregnancy retreat we went to walk a labyrinth in the dessert before we completed our fear release exercise. It was one of the most powerful experiences I've had in a long time. The ground was sharp, completely covered in tiny rocks, but I chose to walk the labyrinth barefoot. I'm not sure what came over me as I kicked my shoes off to begin the walk but I'm so glad I chose to go that way. At first the steps I took weren't bad. They were a little painful at times but mostly okay. As the labyrinth went on it got more painful and I started to question my sanity. I had one hand on my belly connecting with my sweet baby and one hand closed around the rock I'd written my fears on for our release. For a few minutes I cursed myself for taking off my shoes, but slowly I changed my attitude. I'd chosen to step into the very rocky labyrinth barefoot. I'd chosen to do something hard. Because I knew that I could. It was such a lightening bolt moment for me. Why do I choose to do hard things? Because I know that I can do them. And I'm a stronger, more confident person when I finish them. I'm better for the hard things that I do. 

I started to relate the labyrinth to childbirth. The way I chose to birth Everly was hard. There is no way around that. Many people questioned why I could choose the way I did but to me, it was the best way for her to come into the world. I knew that's how she wanted to be born so I did it for her. For this baby I get even more questions. We're planning a home birth that I get asked about frequently. Why would I choose something hard? Why would I choose to birth my baby free of medications? My answer... because I deeply feel that my baby wants me to and I am more than willing to do hard things for my children. 

Sometimes we make choices and do hard things in life. Sometimes in a moment of crazy we step barefoot into a rocky labyrinth that takes us fifteen minutes to walk through. Sometimes we question why we did that hard thing in the first place when it would have been so much easier to just keep our shoes on. But the truth is, life isn't supposed to be easy. We can choose the hard way and come out the other side even stronger and braver than we went in. That's what I did when I walked the labyrinth. 

I came out strong. I came out brave. I came out ready to release my fears that were holding me back. I came out with a deeper connection to my body and my baby and I came out ready to do this hard thing because I choose to. 

xo Sue

amazing photo c/o Kiera Lillesve Foto

Today I read an article about hating pregnancy and not apologizing for it. While I can understand and agree with a lot of the sentiments it also left me feeling sad after I read it. As pregnancies go, I have the short end of the stick. I've tried explaining Hyperemesis to people who have never experienced it (and trust me, most of you have not) and it's incomprehensible. People make sympathetic noises and say they're sorry but that's truly all they can do. For me, pregnancy sucks. And if I let myself, it's easy to get sucked into the misery of it all. 

Baby Nemo (named by Everly) has been easier and harder in ways that are difficult to explain. It's harder because not only am I constantly sick, void of energy, and unable to do simple things for myself, but I'm also the sleep deprived mother of a toddler. It is so hard. And yet... that sweet, amazing, rebellious, wild little toddler makes this pregnancy so much easier. All I have to do is look at her and I'm overwhelmed with the love in my heart. Last time I knew logically that it would be worth it. This time I can feel in the depths of my soul that she was absolutely worth it. And this baby is too. I would go through this a thousand times if it meant my sweet Everly was always a part of my life. How could I not feel the same about her brother or sister? 

I love that physically my body is able to grow my baby. I love that. I adore every tiny movement I feel inside my belly. I look forward so much to the day Everly and Aaron can feel the wiggles from the outside. It's not far off, I know. I love that I can do this. I do not love the side effects of pregnancy. And that's the only way to describe what I'm feeling. The most important part, I love. The rest has an end in site. 5ish more months and my body will feel well again. 

One of the most difficult things for me to deal with is the immense guilt I feel over losing so much weight. I cannot help it. If you didn't keep down a single thing for over 3 months trust me, you'd lose plenty of weight too. In 5 months I won't have to hear comments about how good I look losing weight. I won't have to hear comments about how unhealthy it is to lose so much weight when I'm pregnant. I'm sure I'll still get comments on my weight because for some reason people think it's their business, but I won't be consumed with guilt every time someone mentions it. 

I'm trying every day to enjoy this painful, difficult process. This is our last baby that my body will grow. Aaron and I are both at peace with that knowledge and we're thrilled to be creating the last piece of our little family. We are happy with our decision. So while I'm going through this experience I'm both grateful that I'll never do this again, and also a little bit sad. Not for the icky, the sick, the awful, but for the sweet moments. When I cry that I can't do this and my baby responds with a little wiggle. When I wake up in the morning to Everly kissing me and my belly and saying "Love you baby Nemo!" When it hits me how truly amazing this miracle of life is. Those are the things I'm trying to capture in my memory forever.

And just for fun, here's a little comparison. My 16 week (roughly) baby bump now and then. Everly announced herself much better. Baby Nemo is staying nice and hidden. 

xo Sue

This is a reminder to myself. I have so many interests, hobbies, and activities in my life. I am the girl that does everything and doesn't know how to say no. One day I told Aaron we can't ever have kids because I already sleep maybe 6 hours a night and still don't have enough time in the day. How will I ever add children to that mix? I think I'd go insane. Literally. I don't know how you moms out there do it; have kids and be a functioning member of society at the same time. In my mind it's one or the other. I know it's not really that black and white but you get the idea... Sooner or later something has to give. So what do I change? What do I give up or say no to? I only do things that I love. The problem is I love a lot of things. I don't remember the last time in my life I was truly bored. Possibly on my 12+ hour flight from the States to Japan? But that was only because I didn't have a laptop and no matter how many sleeping pills I took my body insisted on being awake the entire time. I swear I was so drowsy I fell into my food tray and yet somehow was still awake. That's some skills my friends. But I digress. When you love lots of things and you want to do it all, how do you decide what to do and what to give up?

PS You can say hi to me here today if you'd like.

Remember when you were a kid and life was simple? Your biggest problem was if your mom remembered to pack you a good lunch and your best friend remembered that today they were your friend and not that mean girl's? Sometimes I really miss those days. Why was I in such a hurry to grow up? Can you tell there's been too much on my mind lately? This girl needs an off switch for her brain. Otherwise this look of mine is going to get worse. Do you like how my skin is so white I literally reflect the light from the computer while I'm taking pictures? Yes, I'm really that pale. And yes, I'm always that pale. Except for that time I sunburned so bad I can still see the scars. Which is why I'm always this pale.

But I digress. Something happened that's completely thrown me off balance. For the first time in 5 years of blogging I don't feel like my blog is a safe place where I can say what I feel and it will be okay. Even as I'm writing this I'm shaking just a little bit remembering it all over again. I received a rather horrible email following this post that's caused me to question myself. 

Can I not be honest on my own blog? Can I not be open and be me? Should I have to put up a front of continual happiness and perfection just to please other people? I've never pretended to be perfect. I'm the first to shout out that I have a wonderful life but that doesn't mean that every part of it is wonderful. Should I have to pretend that it is? I've got a naturally positive attitude towards life (I can thank my lovely parents for that one). I see no reason for continual complaining. It doesn't make things better, it doesn't change your situation, and it annoys everyone around you. But once in a while you just need to get it all out. That's what my blog is for! If I need to vent I get to do it here. If I want advice, need a pick-me-up, or just want to share something happy I come to my blog. I've made so many wonderful friends through blogging and it's always been such a positive experience. It should be okay to share on your blog if you're having a hard time. 

I'm trying hard not to question myself and if I should share less personal things on my blog. I know I shouldn't let one horrible email throw me so much but it got under my skin fast and it's hard to get it back out. I know it's unnecessary but I apologize for two downer posts in one week. Apparently this is just not my week!

And completely off topic: 

Come back Monday because I'm going to be having an awesome giveaway!

"I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make a life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated, and a person humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming." 
-- Goethe

I think there's a point in all our lives when we realize just how much power we have. We cannot always choose what happens to us, but our reaction is always ours. I was reminded of this just this morning. 


My husband came home from work at 8am absolutely exhausted. I needed to go to the hospital to get another super-fun test done for my command sponsorship (for non-military friends, that's when they decide that I'm legally allowed to live here in Japan instead of being a visitor) and since I'm not allowed to drive yet, Aaron had to take me. I got up and quickly got ready (I thought) but I wasn't quick enough. In the twenty minutes it had taken me to throw myself together Aaron had already fallen asleep on the couch. I woke him up and asked him to get ready. He was grumpy from being woken up. He snapped at me, I snapped at him, we continued snapping for a few minutes while he grumbled and got ready to go. Then he snapped at me one more time and I thought to myself, "Why are we so mad at each other?" Aaron did not do anything to me. He didn't hurt me, he didn't yell at me, he was just exhausted and even though he knew he needed to take me to the hospital (and he was trying), he was too tired to function properly. 


That's when I took a deep breath, stopped being mad, and simply let it all go. I rescheduled the appointment. I pushed him into bed. I rubbed his back for a few minutes to help him relax (he was very worked up over nothing, the way you get when you're too tired to think straight). I kissed him goodnight and I left him to get some sleep. I knew it didn't have to go that way. Aaron would have taken me to the hospital if I'd let him. He would have sacrificed his sleep to help me. He would have given up what he needed for what I needed. That's just the kind of man he is. 


So instead of being mad that things didn't go the way I'd planned them, I reminded myself that sometimes (or always, with the military) I need to be flexible. I need to let the little things go and figure out another way. And I need to remember how lucky I am to have a husband who will put my needs before his. Instead of spending the day grumpy about our sudden change of plans I spent the day snuggling my puppy, cooking yummy food, and doing a puzzle while my husband got some much needed (and deserved) sleep. I refused to let today be a bad one. 


Today, and always, I am the decisive element.

I always thought of divorce as a dirty word. 

Actually, I still do. 

It seems so angry, so painful, so final. The end of it all. And lets be honest here friends, how many of you think to yourself, "I'm going to get married now. This will be fun. In a few years when I'm done with him we'll just get a divorce." I'm pretty sure none of you think that way. No one gets married with the plans to only be together for a few years. And yet it happens so frequently... Statistics put the divorce rate in America anywhere from 40-50%. Is that not scary? 
It made me never want to get married.
Again.


Yes, I said again.
As in this is not the first time I've been married.
And yes, I'm only 25.


I've never blogged about my divorce. I've never shared it on Facebook. I didn't go to counseling (although I probably should have and maybe still should). I didn't get any sort of medical help. I've barely even talked to my family and friends about it. To be honest, I'm not really sure why I kept it all so close to myself. Except I hate to share the story. It makes me sound like a stupid little girl. And maybe that's what I was but I don't like thinking of myself that way. 


Here are the basics. We were married. Happily, I thought. I knew something was bothering him for about a week and every time I tried to talk to him about it he would shut down completely. So I just tried harder. And then he came home after work and said, "I don't want to be married anymore. This is too hard." And he walked out the door. Three days later he had divorce papers drawn up and in my hands before I'd even figured out what was going on. I asked him to go to counseling with me. I asked him to talk to me about it. I asked him to try and work things out. But it quickly became apparent that he had made up his mind long before he'd let me know. As I look through my 20/20 hindsight glasses I can see the little signs that he was unhappy and that something was wrong but he was kind of a grumpy/moody person and at the time I didn't pick up on the differences.


The roller coaster of feelings I went through in the following months/years are impossible to describe accurately. I felt shocked, heartbroken, devastated, and completely empty. I felt worthless. And I felt so betrayed. We'd had a life together, a future planned, and then he'd just walked away like none of it mattered at all. I did not (and still fully do not) understand how he could just walk away from our marriage. We'd stood up in front of everyone we knew and promised to be together forever. Forever didn't last as long as I thought it would. I've spent countless hours asking myself what went wrong. What did I do wrong. What could I have done differently. Why did that happen. I never imagined I'd be the girl who got divorced. It was so sad and broken and that was not me. 


Then one day (several months down the road) I woke up and for a minute, it didn't hurt. I never did figure out the answer to my questions but slowly, slowly I put myself back together. I changed my expectations of myself and of my life. I gave myself new goals. I gave myself new things to live for. I found new excitement in my life. I found joy in unexpected places. I made a lot of new friends and strengthened my friendships with old friends. I was reminded through every action that my family is the most amazing family a girl could ask for. I went through something I felt was impossible and came out the other side stronger and better than ever. 


My divorce was horrible and miserable and I would never wish that on anyone. But I can honestly say I would not be the person I am today without that trial in my life. And I like who I've become. I also wouldn't be married to the wonderful man I now call my husband. I learned so much about what I wanted in my life and in my future companion and Aaron exceeds all expectations. He is a wonderful man and even though he had to do a lot of work convincing me that not all men were evil spawns he says it was worth it.


Through the anger, the pain, the hurt, and the struggle I came out the other end fighting for my happiness. And I learned the true meaning of the quote, 
"You never know how strong you are 
until being strong is the only choice you have."

I have to set the stage here, I promise this post is about much more than having a new puppy. For those of you that don't like animal blogging, give this one a chance. 

These past few weeks have been wonderful/maddening/crazy for me. For the new year Aaron and I got a sweet little puppy we call Twink. He's precious and adorable and we love him. He's also a little hell-raiser and likes to make my life extra difficult. He has been very hard to house train and if you know anything about chihuahua's know this: they do not respond at all to negative reinforcement. They don't understand the word no. If they do something naughty in the house and you catch them and say no they look at you like you are crazy. It is maddening. Every time that I feel like I'm making progress with him, he does something extra naughty to remind me that I cannot tell him what to do.

Well, Aaron couldn't figure out why I was so hyper-sensitive about training the puppy. Sure, he wasn't quite getting it. Sure, he was naughty sometimes. Sure, Aaron wasn't reinforcing the rules I was trying to teach Twink. But why would that make me so crazy? Being the emotionally-sensitive, crazy-with-worry-about-things-that-will-99.9%-surely-never-happen person that I am, I felt like everything Twink did wrong was my fault. It was my fault he couldn't learn.

Which leads to my real concern here (which Aaron laughed at and then felt bad for laughing and had to apologize when he realized I was being serious). If I can't even train a puppy not to do his business in my home, what makes me think I could ever one day be fit to take care of a child? That's when Aaron laughed. Then realized I was serious. Which I was. It had been bothering me as long as I'd been trying to train Twink. What makes me think I'll ever be able to take care of a baby if I can't take care of a puppy? Puppies are easier! You can leave them in a kennel when you leave the house and no one calls social services on you! While Aaron calmly pointed out that puppies and babies are two very different things I protested that they weren't different enough. They both require a lot of attention (babies require more), they both keep you up to all hours of the night (again, babies do this more) and they both do naughty/terrible things that make you crazy and they see nothing wrong with it (once again, babies do this more). So if you think about it, puppy equals kinda-fake, kinda-lame training for baby. And I fail at puppy. Or failed. 

During this discussion Aaron pointed out Twink to me. On the floor, playing predator with his toys (I call it playing predator when he growls/barks/tears his toys to pieces, which he can't do very well yet because he's a puppy). When he does this it melts my heart. And Aaron's argument for why it's all worth it was "But look how cute he is." Okay. He scored a point there. Then, as if knowing I needed some help, Twink climbed into my lap, licked my fingers in the way that says "I love you" and curled up to fall asleep. Aaron's second argument was "Look how much Twink loves you." Which he does. That scored him another point. And I love him, too. Which scored him many more positive points than negative ones and made me feel a whole lot better. 

I guess the point of this very long story is this: I felt weighed down with doubt and failure. I had to look at the positive side of things. And the positive far outweighed the negative. I'm still not ready to have kids (this post was in no way an announcement) but I'm a tiny bit less scared of the idea. I know that when we do decide to add children to our family we will be nervous and anxious and probably do a lot of things wrong. But we will do it with the best intentions and all the love in the world. And I'm happy to say Twink is now (pretty close to) house trained. Score one point for the puppy mom.

It turns out there are some things that are very difficult for me to write about. I had another post planned for today about a Dirty Word that has been on my mind lately. I got halfway through writing that post before I needed to stop. If I'm being honest though, that was farther than I thought I'd get. I used to give myself migraine headaches writing about it so in retrospect I've made some progress. Anyhow, I'll keep adding on until I get to where I'm ready to share it.


Until then here's something else that's been on my mind; Music. Music can soothe. Music can heal. Music has the power to touch your soul. This song in particular, Everything Changes by StainD, moves me deep inside. Until my Dirty Word post is finished my love of this song may not make sense to a lot of you but if you have a few spare minutes today listen to this song for me. And if you have another minute share in the comments a song that touches you. I love to experience the music my friends love too.