Taking California. Again.

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Going on a family trip to Southern California may not have been the best thing for my diet, and it certainly was not the best thing for my workout schedule, but it was great for my soul, so it all balances out, right?

Going into this trip, I felt like I needed to get out of Las Vegas… like, yesterday. I am not a winter person. At all. I enjoy the winter months from Thanksgiving until New Years, and as soon as those winter events have come to an end, my brain moves into summer mode. So in other words, this trip came at a much needed time. Between a memorial service for my great grandma in San Clemente, and my husband needing to take care of some business in Santa Monica, this trip just fell into place perfectly.

We spent the first portion of our trip at the Ocean View hotel in Santa Monica. Directly across from the beautiful beach/Santa Monica Pier, and right up the street from the Third Street Promenade, we couldn’t have asked for a more prime location. I have seen master bathrooms larger than our hotel room and the walls were so thin that it sounded as though each passing hotel guest was standing in our room… but when you can open your balcony doors to the smells and sounds of the ocean, you are quickly reminded that there really isn’t much to complain about.

When my husband tended to business and meetings during the day, I took my son on long walks on the Santa Monica bluffs over looking the ocean. When my husband was done working, we strolled through some of the most stunning beach neighborhoods that I have ever laid eyes on, we spent time on the beach as the sun set, and we went to some of the most delicious restaurants in the area. We did have a breakfast incident in which Liam threw his sippy cup at my coffee cup, sending coffee all across the table and into my lap… But hey, after the mess was all cleaned up my avocado/mushroom/goat cheese omelet was so great that it was impossible to care too much.

As beautiful as Santa Monica was, after several awful nights of sleep due to Liam waking up from all of the noises outside, the second half of our trip was welcomed with open arms. Moving on to stay with my god mother in Irvine, our family fell nothing short of being totally and completely spoiled. Upon arriving in Irvine, my husband and I were hitting our parenting limit. Liam had been great for most of the trip, but after the bad nights of sleep and a terrible experience with him (involving 10 too many hysterical fits) at a restaurant that day, we were in great need of a break. Little did we know, my real life fairy god mother and her dear husband had already planned on babysitting Liam for the night so that we could go out to an ‘adult’ dinner. Who knew how relieving a two hour dinner could be! We found a lovely restaurant down the street, shared some delicious sangria, then came back to a sleeping baby and the good company of my amazing God mother and her family.

The following day, we attended a lovely memorial service for my great grandma in San Clemente. At my cousin Kelly’s beautiful home overlooking the ocean, the family came together to remember our great Gammy and to celebrate the long life she lived. Liam found joy in chasing a bunch of the little girls around the house, while simultaneously draining my husband and I of the small amount of energy that we had left.

Returning to Irvine that night, my god mother had one more grand surprise up her sleeve: a hot tub date for my husband and I in her backyard. Not only did she create the loveliest ambiance of candles and light fixtures surrounding the hot tub, but she also put Liam to bed AND treated us like royalty, bringing us drinks and Liam updates as we enjoyed the peace of the perfect California night.

Heading home on Sunday morning, we were feeling relaxed, thankful, loved, and pretty freakin stoked about the lack of traffic. Our trip was everything we needed it to be. We got to relax, my husband was able to secure some important meetings, we were able to spend quality time with our loved ones, and Liam was better behaved than we’ve ever seen him be on a trip. The year has been off to an interesting start to say the least and it has already presented its fair share of challenges. However, sitting in the comfort of our home, relaxed and refreshed, I can’t help but to feel as though we are one very blessed family.

Cheers,

T.W.C.

 

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Mission: get hot.

The new year is upon us and this slacker mommy is finally back to blogging. While my blog took a back seat in the farthest row possible during the holiday season, I now welcome it and the new year with open arms.

I have never been a ‘new years resolution’ type of girl. Always taking the pessimistic route, when asked what my resolution was for the year, I would come up with a sassy answer along the lines of ‘to not eat any shellfish’ (I am allergic to shellfish and hate the stuff anyways). I approached the entire thing wrong, thinking that if I set no goal for myself, I couldn’t disappoint myself when I couldn’t accomplish said goal. This year however, inspired by my husband’s incredible ability to achieve his wildest goals, I set myself a goal. To put it at it’s simplest: get healthy, fit, and well… get hot.

I went into pregnancy weighing 107 and wearing a size 0 or 2, but I was by no means healthy. I ate McDonald’s once a week, drank a dr pepper once a day, and couldn’t even tell you what the last fruit I ate was. Since having my son, I have drastically modified my ways, however I still have not been consuming in a way that any nutritionist would approve of. I have lost very little of my birth weight and every poor food choice I make seems to haunt my remaining little baby pooch for weeks to come. Wasting money on poor food choices and fattening alcoholic beverages has led to very minimal baby weight loss, which in turn has led to a very low confidence. In the 19 months since birthing my son, I have done several juice cleanses and diet modifications, however I have not fully committed to any of them. My exercise routine consisted of a few squats and push ups every 3 or 4 days, if at all… And I wondered why I wasn’t losing any of the baby weight? I was living a lifestyle that was simply not sustainable long term for my health or for my bank account. It took talk of New Years resolutions, Instagram creeping some super hot fitness models, and several conversations with my husband and close friends to realize that now is the time for some big change.

In the least overdone and cliche way possible, I mean it when I say that 2015 is our year. My husband and I are committed to not only getting the ‘hot bods’ we’ve always wanted, but we are also committed to living a healthier lifestyle. Knowing that I will be on bed rest for the entire duration of my next pregnancy, I have always said that I cannot get pregnant with baby #2 until I have lost all of my previous baby weight. Getting pregnant before I have achieved that goal would most likely cause me to gain so much weight that I fear I may never be able to come back from it. With that being said, I am not only losing this weight so that I can look good for my husband/myself, and I am not only losing this weight so that I can demonstrate the importance of a healthy lifestyle to my son…but I am also doing this so that I can bring another little human into this world.

After a beautiful holiday season filled with cooking the largest most delicious meals, a Park City vacation in which diet was the least of our concerns, stuffing our faces with chocolates, and having a few too many beers, I can confidently say that I am ready for this change. My body has been begging for this change, and it is about time I listen to it. This year I will prove to myself that I am capable of accomplishing my goals. I will prove to myself that New Years resolutions CAN be fulfilled, and I will prove to everybody else that it is possible to be in better shape after a baby than you ever were before.

To put our plan into action, my husband and I invested in the newest p90x. I was always skeptical of workout videos prior to meeting my husband, however, he has completed the p90x program in the past and was very successful with it (that is, until I got pregnant and he joined me in my endeavors of eating for two!). Two days into the workouts it already became very clear to me that if done right, p90x will be very successful at whipping us into shape… By ‘it became very clear to me’ I mean that I have not been able to walk up the stairs without wincing for 3 days straight. In addition to our 7 day a week workouts, we will: go for long walks in the park on weekends, be drinking the suggested daily amount of water intake, going to bed earlier, drinking no alcohol (with the exception of the occasional glass.. Or 2..of red wine of course), eating no fast food, and we will be sticking to a very strict meal plan that contains primarily fruits, veggies, and protein.

Everybody may be seeing a little less of us. I may not be the ideal person to ask to go grab a burger with and I may not want to drink as much at social gatherings. I may decline an invite because I’ve got to work out, and I might not hang out as late because I’ve got to get my 8 hours of sleep. Call me boring, but I’ve got a bigger goal in mind. A goal that will lead to a healthier me, a more plentiful savings account, a husband who is even more attracted to me than he was when we met, a son who can see me as a healthy role model…and eventually this goal of mine will lead to Baby #2. With the goal on my mind, a positive outlook, a supportive community of friends/family, and a fridge full of meal prepped food containers, I WILL make 2015 my year. Let ‘Mission: get hot’ begin.

Cheers,

T.W.C.

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And then there wasLiam.

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This weekend marked a very big event in our household: Our little man is walking. At 10 months old, my son is on the move, and I can’t help but reflect upon how quickly his life has passed so far. I was just going through photos of him as a newborn and couldn’t believe how fast time can fly. Reflecting back on these last 10 months, I feel so very blessed that our son is here with us today and that he is our healthy and happy little walking boy.  And to think we almost lost him.

At 22 weeks pregnant I went in for an ultrasound that I shouldn’t have even been at. The week before, I had been seen by the ultrasound tech in a routine exam. She had been unable to see my sons head because it was buried so far into my pelvis, and as a precaution she asked that I come in the following week in hopes that he would reposition himself.

My husband and I showed up to our follow up appointment dressed in our work clothes, thinking this would simply be a quick detour, we’d get some exciting new ultrasound pics, and head off to work for the day. Let’s just say I would have dressed much more comfortably if I’d known what was coming our way.

As soon as the ultrasound tech looked at the screen showing my cervix, I knew something was seriously wrong. She explained to us that my cervix measurements were far off of what they should be and let us know that she needed to go get a doctor right away.  The doctor came back and informed us that my cervix was at .9 and that I should have been at a 3.0 or higher.

I was then rushed to the hospital. A specialist came into my room and informed me that if he didn’t put a stitch in my cervix to hold it together, I would go into labor within hours. The problem was, my cervix had already shrunk down to a .7 and there was hardly any cervix left to work with. We were informed that there was about a 50/50 chance that simply carrying out the surgery could trigger labor, but we went ahead with it anyways, knowing it was our only chance at keeping our son safe inside of me.

Hours after surgery, I was being watched like a hawk. Doctors kept telling me to “rest up”, yet coming in and out of my room every 5 minutes. I was put on anti-contraction medication that needed to be taken strictly every 6 hours. I was also given hormone suppositories that were supposed to keep my uterus strong.

Let me tell you, stuck in a dark hospital room is the last place you want to be when you are 22 weeks pregnant and terrified that you will lose your baby. The entire situation brought me down to a very low place. I sat in my hospital bed sneaking cries in between nurse visits. I didn’t want to eat hospital food, I didn’t want to be hooked up to a million beeping machines, I didn’t want anymore doctors to come in and remind me that I had an incompetent cervix. All I wanted was to keep my baby safe.

For two weeks, I stayed in the hospital. I was there so long that it almost began to feel normal. I wasn’t allowed to get out of bed unless I had to pee. I was allowed one shower every three days but I had to be seated the entire time and it couldn’t be for longer than 5 minutes. I wasn’t allowed to sit up in bed unless it was to eat. I hadn’t stepped foot outside in 13 days and the doctors were toying with the idea of keeping me in the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy. Finally one morning, I was informed that they would be checking my cervix and that if I had made progress, I could go home.

Four hours later, I was discharged. I was put on bed rest until 36 weeks pregnant. The only time I was allowed to leave the house was once a week for my doctors appointments. I swear, when the only time you’re allowed to leave the house is to go to the doctor, the doctor’s office feels like freakin disneyland.

Each time I went to the specialist, my cervix was looking better and better. The doctor told us that of all the years he has been practicing, our case was one of the biggest miracles he’s seen. I have never seen a doctor so shocked by his own successful work. Week after week went by, and we continued to surprise the doctor with the fact that I was still carrying my baby.

Bed rest was the biggest challenge that I have ever experienced. It is isolating and depressing and so very boring. I watched 3 entire series from start to finish on Netflix and I did more pinning on Pinterest than has ever been done before. I cried constantly in frustration of my situation, but each time I felt my son kick, I was reminded that it was all worth it.

Somehow, by complete miracle, I made it to 36 weeks. I had my stitches removed and was told that FINALLY, I could behave as a “normal” pregnant woman. I have never been so excited to walk around Target in my life!

Without the stitches holding my cervix together, I thought the time before my son’s arrival would be very brief. But he decided to hang out a little longer, and at 39 weeks, I finally went into labor naturally. But my labor story is for another day.

I thank god every day for my little miracle baby. I complained and I cried and I hated bed rest, but I know I am lucky. I will be on bed rest from 12 weeks until 36 weeks with any future children that I carry, but I will happily do it all over again if it means that I am blessed enough to bring another life into this world. Every woman goes into pregnancy with fear of the unknown and the unexpected. But I never could have for seen the severity of the challenge coming my way. My husband and family stood strong and supportive by my side, and together, with the help of some very special doctors, we were able to bring my son into this world.

Cheers,

T.W.C.

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