Postpartum Update

snow walk

I am writing you from the other side of the pregnancy journey—our baby boy made his appearance three weeks ago on Groundhog Day. I was able to experience another natural labor and birth that was thankfully free from complications and relatively easy-going. Labor itself was more of a marathon than a sprint, with prodromal labor for days leading up to the birth, and everyone expected the real deal to move quickly. Instead, I spent the night at the birth center with an active labor that kept starting and stalling. I dilated to almost 9 centimeters without my water breaking, and the baby’s head couldn’t move down and engage. As the sun rose, my husband and I ended up taking a walk around the neighborhood and getting coffee. When we returned without any changes (other than bagels and mochas), I elected to have my water broken. About one intense hour later, Ruben emerged from some fast and furious pushes. I was relieved to be done with pregnancy and birth!

I learned from my older child that the first week postpartum is the true test of survival. Therefore, I took it very easy this time. I shunned away visitors and stuck to my bed. Even so, I had an itch to get fresh air every day, and by the end of the week, I was doing a little mile loop around the neighborhood. As I continued to heal, I resumed my walking practice, and now I am happily up to my pre-birth daily mileage. When I head out to walk, baby snuggly resting in his carrier, I feel like I am putting on an oxygen mask. It is soothing to connect with nature, get my blood pumping, and return to my favorite hobby—observing the minutia of the changing seasons (we’ve had everything from sunshine and blossoms to snow storms the past two weeks).

I am finally starting to feel up to testing out a return to running in the coming days. I plan to ease in with short distances, and a run/walk combination. In addition to walking, I am working on rebuilding core strength (especially after pushing out a 9-pound baby). I feel like my body is gradually falling back into place. I put myself to bed very early, and sleep when I can. The experience of birth is often described as a fog, and I find the comparison to be quite accurate. Day by day, the misty cloud cover dissipates, and the surroundings come into a slightly clearer view. The newness becomes normal, and a return to routine is found. I continue to feel as though an active pregnancy and postpartum recovery (as soon as I was able to return to activity) facilitated a much easier transition this time. I look forward to running some miles in the very near future!

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Active Pregnancy: A Retrospective

running retro

At 35 weeks pregnant, with the baby the size of a honeydew melon, I truly feel as though I am in the home stretch. This pregnancy was different from my first in a number of ways. Most of the “you’ll see” advice about second pregnancies feeling less monumental I received turned out to relatively valid; I felt, and continue to feel, more excited about the baby at the end of this journey rather than my changing body. However, this experience has been punctuated by moments of grounding myself in and truly appreciating the fascinating process of growing a human life. Despite the aches, pains, and exhaustion, I find myself quite proud of my changing body, the work it has undertaken to sustain me and the growing baby.

I started out this pregnancy with the intention of remaining as active as possible, and I am glad that I maintained this norm throughout. During the first trimester, running felt almost unchanged; I adjusted now and then for energy levels and bathroom breaks, but remained relatively steadfast in my daily miles. During the second trimester, I continued to run, but started to incorporate walking and hiking much more intentionally. My hips and pelvis were starting to widen; and as my organs shifted around, I found that running lost some of its comfort. When I began to face diminishing returns on those feelings of freedom and euphoria during a run, I knew it was time to slow down and taper off. By the beginning of the third trimester, I was ready for a hiatus from pounding the pavement. Almost organically, and perhaps in exchange for scaling back my running, I experienced a second wind in my mental focus. By writing every day during the months of November and December, I was able to complete a full draft of my dissertation by the year’s end. I continue to walk at least 5 miles a day (more on the weekends), which has been an amazing gift to my health, fitness, and mental stability. I have found other ways to encounter the joy and connection with nature that sustain my resilience. Last week, I ended the year by walking a trail half marathon. For me, this experience reaffirmed that my body and brain are strong and capable, and that the return to running is out there, waiting.

My midwives have provided encouragement and listening ears through my seasons of active pregnancy. They understood that my temporary disengagement with running is, at times, bittersweet. I ache to run, deep in my bones. I see other runners and I want to spring forward and join them. This is a time of recognizing that absence does make the heart grow fonder. Perhaps some of the most affirming words during this time, came from one of my midwives who encouraged me to visualize my life after birth. “Just think,” she said, “after your body heals from the birth and you creep out of that newborn fog, there will be buds and blossoms on the trees. The days will be longer. The birds will be chirping. And you will be running again… what a wonderful time to start.”

I straddle the present and the future. As I continue my daily walks in the woods, through the dreary January rains, I focus on the beauty of nature surrounding me. I feel a connection to this cycle of nature, of turning inward and hibernating, of doing the invisible work, underground, only to emerge in several weeks’ time with a fertile openness. And in quiet moments, especially in the dark hours of the early morning when I am inexplicably unable to sleep, I soothe my mind by imagining the sound of my feet and the roll of the jogging stroller along my backyard trails, under the pink hue of cherry tree branches and the gold catkins of the alders.

august update

running

A little update about running and this pregnancy. At 16 weeks, I am feeling really good—pretty much my normal self. I am glad to experience higher energy levels and endurance once again. I am back to running 4-5 times a week, which is of great benefit to my mood and my body. I try to fit as much movement into the day as possible, even with a desk job. Even before this pregnancy, our family made it a goal to be in the habit of walking after dinner, and that routine continues to keep me feeling good through the evening. Running itself is more comfortable in the last few weeks, as my physical body acculturates to pregnancy. Earlier on, I carried a lot of bloat and running felt sloshy and off-kilter. Now that my bump is actually uterus, my body mechanics feel more coordinated. I am paying close attention to drinking a lot of water, eating a well-rounded diet, and getting as much sleep at night as I can (it is really difficult for me to nap).

My running practice has always helped to pull me, a very future-oriented person, into a greater appreciation for the present. In this sense, the ability to run more lately is bringing me a sense of harmony with this season of pregnancy. It is tempting and natural for me, right now, to want the fast-forward button. Though infants bring their own challenges, I have, admittedly, felt impatient this time around. For several weeks, I mourned a perceived loss of body autonomy. I am less process-oriented with this pregnancy and sometimes anxious about external expectations to emote/demonstrate/perform differently. However, running cools those flames of worry and also, perhaps most refreshingly, reminds me that I am still the woman inside of me. In a society where pregnancy is often contextualized as medical, delicate, essentially feminine, and perfectly acceptable for objectification, running brings to the forefront several antidotes: strength, resilience, ownership of self and body, independence, and health.

The wildfire smoke haze that dominated much of the month is gone, and last night I woke up to the sound of an unexpected nighttime rain. The breeze touches the skin with a hint of crispness. Dead, dry leaves line the trails, but the ones attached to their branches are starting to redden. Shortening days usher in an earlier golden hour of sunset. I find myself smiling nearly every run these days, because I am here in this movement, and because I am here in this space between seasons.

Happy trails!

july update

13 weeks 2

Here I find myself, pregnant with my second child, and continuing my running practice. The past several weeks have been both exciting and exhausting; challenging in ways I can foggily remember, but also novel in their own unique season. I remain curious and appreciative about what seeing my running practice through a pregnancy will bring. Reflecting on the first trimester, I am very thankful that I knew to keep moving in whatever way I could. Some weeks, running was too unsavory. Even through that slump, I could still find joy in long walks. However, as the flu-like symptoms of early pregnancy subsided, I began to regain my tolerance for running. And then, just as I resigned myself to several months of a more complicated relationship with running, in a fortunate turn of events, running began to feel both joyful and fun again.

I feel like my running practice fits so well with this pregnancy for a few reasons. It brings me strength and clarity during a time when other parts of my biology sometimes feel out of my control. Especially recently, running provides me with that really wonderful combination of endorphins that makes me feel happy and comfortable. This time, pregnancy feels so much less process-oriented; the details and the concerns of the first time are not present, and would also seem almost repulsive at this time. I find I want to just be, and to be peaceful. In my life, a run or a walk in solitude equates to a gift of peace.

In a practical sense, as I near the end of gestation with my other baby, my dissertation, running gives me that mental space to play with ideas. I am particularly grateful for the creative and intellectual energy spun up through locomotion. I am finding and focusing on renewed hunger for zooming in, being present, and grappling with my projects and goals day-by-day. In some ways, this change in my physiology is shifting my mental habits to be more thoughtful, less decisive, and increasingly open to variation.

I do not have grand expectations or ideas of how the next 6 months will unfold, but I am pleased with the balance I currently have. My intention is to honor the practices that make my body and mind feel healthy and strong, even if those evolve from running to something else. In one way or another, many miles and milestones to go.