Gratitude For Every Day

"Gratitude can turn common days into Thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and turn ordinary opportunities into blessings" ~ William Arthur Ward

I awaken with a grateful heart. My first intentional inhalation of each morning is full of gratitude and expectation, as the first exhalation signifies control, grace, and confidence.

I am everyday grateful for my vibrant health, supportive family, incredible opportunities, unique vision, selfless gifts, amazing journey, and indescribable joy.

I live gratitude. This life is not perfect, but this life is beautiful. Love this life. Live it to the fullest. Remain everyday grateful for the gifts, large and small, that you have been given. Appreciate the opportunity to create a beautiful day, every day.

Thanksgiving 2011
Nosara, Costa Rica

I am grateful for Blossom and the opportunity to promote health, share love, and show compassion with those I touch every day.

I am grateful for you. 

My Miracle. My Life. My Lauren.

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." ~ Albert Einstein 

November is Prematurity Awareness Month! Enjoy this journey from a Blossom Mom Who Rocks about her daughter's premature birth. 

My Lauren

Having a child is the most precious gift from God, and I am so blessed to be able celebrate my miracle -“My Lauren” each and every day.  My husband and I were very excited about my pregnancy, as this would be our first child together.  He made sure he was at every doctor appointment and I remember the nervous feelings we shared as we prayed that every appointment would be good news. 

When it came time for the first ultrasound, I remember the doctor having problems finding the heartbeat and then he said, “there it is!”  I believe the world had stopped and began to move again in a matter of minutes of hearing those words.  From that point on, every visit could be labeled as a good visit.  I remember feeling really energetic and active. 

Then one day I wasn’t feeling so great and I had an appointment scheduled for later that afternoon.  When I arrived as soon as my husband saw me, he asked “are you feeling ok?”  I told him I felt a little tired but overall I felt great.  I attributed my fatigue to being further along into my pregnancy and assumed it just came with the territory. I went through the normal routine… Peed in the cup, had my blood pressure checked, and waited for the doctor.  

It seemed like it took the doctor forever to come into my examination room.  When he arrived, the look on his face was a look of concern.  Clearly something was wrong.  He said, “Angela I want to send you down to the hospital for more tests as we have found a high amount of protein in your urine".  He continued that it was nothing to be too alarmed about, as this was a precautionary measure to ensure that the baby and I were okay.  

Once the hospital begin testing it was clear that I wasn’t going home and the baby and even I, were in trouble.  As soon as I received the news that I wasn’t able to go home and they wanted to monitor the pregnancy. My hands, my feet, my face, my entire body began to retain an astronomical amount of fluid.  I was informed that I had preeclampsia.

Preeclampsia is a condition in pregnant women where  high blood pressure and protein has developed beyond 20 weeks into their pregnancy. It can endanger the lives of the mother and the baby or cause other serious medical complications.  I was afraid for my baby’s life.  Not only was my baby fighting for her life, but I was now fighting for mine.  

I had been in the hospital for approximately 2 weeks (28 week mark) when my doctor told me, “Angela call your husband back to the hospital… The baby is struggling I have to take the baby now.”  I called my husband – whose voice began to tremble on the phone.  He said "baby I’m on my way."  I called my mother and she said, “Angela calm down and pray – God will get you through but you must TRUST and BELIEVE.”  

Those words carried me into surgery and I delivered a 2 pounds and 14 ounces baby girl.  God had blessed me though at the time the fight was long from being over.  My daughter was in the NICU for 12 weeks.  Everyday, I laid her on my bare chest and we were both wrapped in the blanket – this method is referred to as Kangaroo Kare (or skin-to-skin contact, which is beneficial in regulating a neonate's heart rate, temperature, blood pressure, respiration rate, blood sugar,  liver enzymes, and helps prepare both the baby and the mother for breastfeeding).  

“My Lauren” got stronger every day… She would look at me with those big eyes and I knew she loved me and she was a “fighter.” So today and everyday I celebrate “My Lauren” who is now 10 years old, 5 feet 4 inches tall.  She is our miracle and we are blessed.

Do you have another miraculous premature birth story? Share it with us! 

A Note from Blossom 

Lauren is a straight A student, a gifted visual artist, and a community servant. 

Angela Walker is an Independent HR Consultant and Global Business Partner who has shaped high performance cultures at Fortune 500 and major growth brands with strategies that brought about efficiencies, robust development programs, and prolific communications.  She received her Bachelor of Business Administration from Tennessee State University.  Angela recently became a Accountability Coach where she supports individuals who seek leadership development, motivation, career development, and the establishment of life goals.  Angela said her greatest professional accomplishment was becoming an entrepreneur; however, her greatest life accomplishment is her family.  Angela is married to Randy, Quality Assurance Project Engineer and they have two children, Ronnie (22 ) and Lauren (10) - who she often refers to as their "miracle baby."

Please visit Angela if you are interested in her becoming your Accountability Coach!

The Conception and Birth of Maternal Wellness

"Connecting with those you know love, like, and appreciate you, restores the spirit and gives you energy to keep moving forward in this life." ~Deborah Day

According to the Facebook Memories feature and my beloved TimeHop app, I posted the following exactly one year ago today, as a preface to the article below. It seems that this is when and where the seeds of Blossom Health and Maternal Wellness were planted: 

10/28/14

I can't say enough about this topic. As a prenatal massage therapist, I thought that I offered a nice service. As an occupational therapist treating countless repetitive use injuries- but never any related to pregnancy, childbirth, nursing, or motherhood- I overlooked a great many potential patients.  As a yogi & runner, I cheered on new mommies to just bounce back quickly, but there is SO much more to consider besides dropping 30+ pounds. Specialized intervention is sometimes necessary, as is self-care. There is a market for this kind of treatment, if docs, moms, and dads buy into it.

My Child Is Here, But My Body Is Not My Own

10/28/15

I don't think that even I imagined that less than 6 months later, these ideas, experiences, opportunities, and skills would align themselves to birth Blossom Health and Maternal Wellness, which offers perinatal fitness, massage, nutrition, education, breastfeeding support, and rehabilitation all in one place. 

Now for the buy in: moms, there are ways to help usher in normalcy, even if it is a slightly new normal. There are mechanisms and modalities to help alleviate pain, strengthen weakened areas, regain confidence. Your body will be different, your sleep habits will be different, your priorities will be different, and your emotional state will be different, but you should not be unrecognizable. You do not have to succumb to the abyss of post-baby everything. You are not weak for asking for help. Typically, when we think about postpartum ailments, we're only thinking about depression, which is good. Postpartum depression is real, affects many, and needs to be better understood and treated. However, there are also physical and physiological remnants of childbearing that do not have to remain indefinitely.

Daddies, despite what you may see on television, there is no metaphor, similie, mental image, or weighted vest that can adequately convey all that a woman's body and mind go through during and after the 40 weeks of pregnancy. Trust, anticipate, and listen. Your partner is amazing! She is a warrior! She has gone through battle and has birthed a miracle. She needs a massage. She needs an opportunity to exercise. She may even need therapy or chiropractic care. She is not a wimp. She is not looking for attention. She needs for you to understand and advocate for her. The easier and more complete her recovery, the better she will be able to take care of your family... and the less resentful she will be toward you, for the rest of her life. There's nothing worse than grandma oversharing at Thanksgiving about how her body was completely destroyed 55 years earlier by childbirth and how it is all grandpa's fault. Women remember those BC (before children) bodies and capabilities like they do the days of the week. Find ways to help her get back to that.

Physicians can help too. By listening to new moms, asking thoughtful questions, re-sensitizing themselves to the wonder of each and every birth experience, and being aware of pregnancy and postpartum community resources, they can assist moms in adjusting to life on the other side, with minimal pain and without involuntary peeing. 

We often hear about how the care for postpartum mothers in this country is amongst the least desirable and least helpful in all of the world. Our bodies were not meant to create a life, birth it forth, stick an artificial nipple in its mouth and return to data entry 6 weeks later (or whatever amazing career we have). We simply were not designed that way.

We were designed to be nurtured by our tribe and to be nurturing to our children. After giving birth, we need rest and restoration. Facilitating this recovery is the reason that Blossom Health and Maternal Wellness is here today. 

Miscarriage in Midst of Social Media

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” ~ Kahlil Gibran 

Social media. It can connect us. It can reunite. But it can also eat away at you, especially as a mother, or a mother to be. Pinterest shows you those perfect snacks and parties. Instagram shows those beautiful moments that just MUST be captured. And Facebook is where the world announces pregnancies. And births. But rarely losses. Not only can this keep women from seeking support, but it can fray one’s nerves. 

At first I considered myself lucky. I already have one SUPER amazing daughter. I know my husband and I can get pregnant. And the miscarriage was early. We found out at the first ultrasound at 10 weeks. I wasn’t even surprised. Something was just off in this pregnancy. We had already told people I was pregnant, but the night before the ultrasound, I found myself preparing how to tell people that there was no heartbeat. Less than 24 hours later, that’s what happened.  

I was sad. But I was thankful it was early. I was thankful that my sixth sense prepared me. And then I had a rare roast beef sandwich and some tuna sushi. My husband and I told everyone who knew I was pregnant. Thank god for modern communication. Texting our friends was so much easier than the call to family. 

I had to wait a few days before we could confirm the miscarriage and have the D&C. My body was just not figuring out what had happened, and I wanted a clean start. Right after New Year’s I went to the hospital and the D&C went as well as I could have imagined! I was prepared to rest up for a bit. Take care of myself for a month or two and be pregnant by my birthday in April.  Then the complications started. And then Facebook got sad for me. I went through a thoroughly bizarre series of uterine issues after my miscarriage.

NOTE: If you don’t like bodily stuff, skip this next paragraph and continue on. 

First, it appeared that my uterus wasn’t healing. It was like post partum bleeding, but without the baby. Finally after 7-8 weeks of on and off bleeding, it was back to the office. A quick ultrasound showed that my uterus had grown a fluid filled cyst THE SIZE OF A LIME. In my uterus. In 8 weeks. I called it my cyst baby. So, it was on to birth control pills to shrink that lime into oblivion. After a few weeks of hormonal psychosis, I went back for another ultrasound, happy to see the cyst almost gone. I was given permission to go out and get pregnant. Then a few weeks later I had the WORST. CYCLE. EVER. The cramps were so bad one day it felt like labor. Then I went potty (I have a 2 year old, I don’t go to the bathroom, I go potty). And something came out. Yup. OUT. Apparently it is possible for the uterus to push out a fibroid. And my uterus decided that this fibroid, that had been hanging out for at least 3 years, just had to go.

    A Little Lemon From My Garden 

BODILY ICKY STUFF OVER: So here I am, first a miscarriage, then months of complications, meanwhile, at least once a week on Facebook, it seems someone is announcing a pregnancy or a birth. At this point I don’t trust my uterus. And I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. And women whose first children are the same as my first kid are rolling around with number 2. But I want to be pregnant again. More than anything. So I chart. I pee on a stick. We try. And we try. And we try. 

It’s now a year after we started trying for number 2. I speak openly about my miscarriage, and most people respond with an “I’m sorry” or something to that effect. But the miscarriage wasn’t the hard part. The hard part for me is what comes next. When will I get pregnant? Will there be another miscarriage?

I work to find a balance. I’m happy for my friends who are pregnant and having babies. But I have to check myself to not get too disappointed when it’s them and not me. And I have to manage my disappointment when my monthly visitor shows up instead of a little plus sign on a stick. And I have to check myself when people offer well-intentioned by often annoying tips. My favorite (and by favorite, I mean least favorite) is when people tell me to just relax and not worry about it. I’m pretty sure the only people who say that are people who either a) never tried to get pregnant or b) got pregnant easily/haven’t dealt with a loss.  

So for the time being, I'll continuing peeing on sticks every month. I'll get excited for my friends' new babies. I'll do my best to take care of me. And I'll post cute pictures of my kid and cats on Facebook. 

Blossom Mom Rachel is a corporate wellness consultant, variously dabbling in nutrition, stress management and when possible, yoga. She is the mother of three fur babies and one amazing 2 1/2 year old. When she isn't chasing after or feeding one of them, Rachel is busy figuring out how to best share her talents of teaching and speaking to groups. 
http://www.naturalzest.com

http://instagram.com/naturalzest 

On Heroes and Heaven

"A mother's grief is as timeless as her love." ~ Dr. Joanne Cacciatore 

My Special Needs Child Is My Hero — and Maybe Yours, Too

Ivo Jackson 

10/ 20/ 2014

As I write this, my daughter is nine weeks old. Like any other baby her age, she knows her mama, hates to have on a poopy diaper, and loves toys with lights and music. And she’s super cute. With huge, pinchable cheeks.

She is also not supposed to be alive.

My daughter Lael has a very rare genetic disorder called Thanatophoric Dysplasia; it is a severe skeletal disorder that causes extreme dwarfism. It causes the arms and legs to be very short and the rib cage does not grow to a normal size so the lungs do not fully develop in the womb, making sufficient breathing almost impossible, even with help. Almost all babies who have this genetic mutation are either stillborn or die soon after birth. At 19 weeks pregnant, I discovered that one of my unborn twins was destined to die.

Despite the statistical overview provided by the National Institute of Health regarding the survival rate, our doctors told us that the condition was “100% lethal,” and that my baby, guaranteed, would not be born alive. The maternal fetal specialists were so sure of this, it was even suggested that I consider aborting her, despite my daughter being a twin. Her brother has always been healthy and normal; so, since they were in separate sacks, modern medicine would have allowed me to end her life without disrupting his. That’s pretty deep.

I said no.

Besides the fact that it makes no sense to proactively kill someone who will perish from natural causes in a matter of time anyway, I knew that I had to give my daughter a fighting chance. Why should I give up just because someone else thinks I’m going to lose? I had to give the God I say I serve a chance to work. I’m an ordained minister for goodness’ sake.

Abortion was not the answer.

And so began the emotional roller coaster, the test of faith. Mind you, my faith was not that God would automatically give me what I wanted, but that my family would be equipped for the journey, come what may. My faith said that we could agree with whatever God said. Sometimes children die. Sometimes you don’t get what you want.

Deep down inside, I knew that she would be born alive. I was kind of afraid to believe it sometimes, especially when the doomsday doctors kept beating me over the head with the prognosis, acting as angels of mercy sent to protect me from false hopes. In spite of them, however, I knew. But then there was the part of me that questioned whether or not I really wanted her to live.

She had such a potentially bleak future; would her demise be God’s mercy? If she survived, would I really be willing and able to deal with all that would be required of me for her sake? Would she? Would we be able to handle all of the pressure? The sacrifice? The responsibility? The horrified stares of strangers in public? The judgment?

I wasn’t always sure I could stomach that. Maybe the blessing would be for her innocent soul to simply go back to God before the troubles and cares of this life could corrupt her. Maybe God would let us all off the hook.

But that’s not how great men and women are made.

Then there were all of the people praying for her. Family, friends, Facebook—there was prayer going up around the country for little Lael. Thankfully, God granted our petition, and against all odds, my daughter was born alive and breathing on her own.

My little princess had done the impossible.

Nine weeks and two surgeries later, my baby girl is still here. Every day Lael is alive is a blessing and a learning experience. Skeletal dysplasia experts have a little more data to help someone else now. Many of the naysaying doctors are now rooting for her. The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit is brighter because of her presence; the nurses all love her and want her to make it. Her incredible smile, chubby cheeks, and will to live have won her many friends at the Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital. She constantly inspires hope in a place that too often knows the pain of death.

But she is helping people outside the hospital walls, too—especially me.

Lael has known only struggle since the day she was born. Every breath she has taken without the help of a machine has been a struggle, yet she continues to try. Spending most of her time alone in a hospital bed, not knowing what the future will bring, she still smiles. Discerning that she has a family who can only visit for short periods of time, without a home to go to like the rest of the world, she makes the most of the time she has with her loved ones, not focusing on the pain of separation but the joy of togetherness. Even when she is under heavy sedation, when she recognizes my voice she struggles to move and open her eyes, to acknowledge and enjoy my presence. I wait patiently to enjoy hers. She doesn't judge me for giving her brothers and sisters and our household more time than I give her every day. Her love is unconditional.

My daughter doesn't focus on her discomfort; the nurses say she deals with it, learning to adjust, no matter how many tubes go in and out of her body, no matter what new machine she must be attached to in order to live. All of the babies there eventually do. Without the comforts of hopes, pleasures, or entertainment, they play the hand they are dealt in life without raising Cain. Lael cries sometimes, tired of the struggle, but she doesn't give up. She just recently had some difficulties because she was actually fighting too hard; Lael was struggling to breathe on her own against the ventilator and compromised oxygen intake as a result. While hooked up to a machine that reminds me of C-3PO from Star Wars, she has enough fight in her to keep going, even when giving up a little bit is necessary for her well-being. Many adults with everything on the line who have no hope but to fight faint for fear. Knowing nothing else, she fights for her life with every breath.

And here you were complaining that you couldn't get the iPhone 6 when you wanted.

Rising to the occasion of being Lael’s mother has changed me completely. I can’t imagine my life without her now, even though a large part of it is going back and forth to the hospital. I work hard to keep a smile on my face for her. I take each breath I breathe seriously, no longer for granted. When things get hard and I think to complain, images of my daughter drown out the very notion. My entire outlook on life has improved, and I was already a pretty happy Pentecostal Christian before. I mean, I was happier than most. But insecurities ate away at me just like they do everyone else.

No more.

Life is too short, God is too real, and I am too much of a miracle myself to let it go to waste. Lael is certainly not letting her miracle go to waste. Her story inspires people around the country to fight against all odds, with a grateful heart just for the chance to fight. Although the word thanatophoric literally means “death bearer,” she has ushered life into her atmosphere every second of her life. My daughter has ministered more from her hospital bed than I ever have from a pulpit.

My special needs baby is my hero…and if you need one right now, she can be yours, too.

FIGHT.

- Ivo Jackson 

UPDATE 

10/20/15

Baby Lael continued to progress, grow, and inspire in the NICU. She was able to join her parents and four siblings, including her twin brother, at home in February 2015. Sadly, just two months later, Lael was called to be an angel in heaven. We speak her name and remember her always. ~ Jada Wright Nichols 

October is dedicated to remembering our babies through Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month and activities. 

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Ivo is an artist. A designer. A thinker. A talker. A human. Looking to cross paths with the same.

Connect with Eyeveaux on Twitter

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Fall in Love with Yoga During Your Pregnancy

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new."   ~ Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

Pregnancy is such a beautiful time in a woman's life. Not only does she have the miraculous privilege of creating a whole new life inside of herself, but she also has the opportunity and the inspiration to re-evaluate and re-invest in her own life. Pregnant women often find themselves creating new goals, tackling old fears, and giving their lifestyle a major overhaul.  

Whether it's taking vitamins, eating more kale, or trying a new exercise, an expectant mom is willing to do almost anything in order to create a safe, nurturing, and peaceful space for her growing child. 

Prenatal yoga can help to create the ideal physical and emotional space for an unborn child. Practicing yoga at anytime can help to relieve stress and alleviate depression, both of which many mothers-to-be are prone to. Practicing yoga during pregnancy can target special areas of concern, while also creating more space for the growing child and preparing the breath, abdomen, and hips for the actual birth. 

There are components of yoga that can be enjoyed during every phase of pregnancy. However, most women will want to discuss all physical activities with their specific care provider before partaking. A woman who has a regular yoga practice and is experiencing a typical pregnancy can continue her practice with minimal modifications, initially. As her body begins to change and the baby develops, a certified prenatal yoga instructor can guide the mother through the modifications necessary for each phase, ache, and ailment. 

One of the many fantastic attributes of yoga is that anyone can practice it at anytime. A mother-to-be can begin a yoga practice, even without any prior yoga experience, and still receive tremendous benefits, including increased flexibility, balance, strength, and pain management. 

Numerous studies support the purported benefits of prenatal yoga, from a decreased risk of prenatal depression to improved sleep to decreased backpain, and nausea, according to the Mayo Clinic. A 2012 study also found that prenatal yoga could decrease the likelihood of complications during pregnancy. The research showed that pregnant women who practiced yoga for one hour, three times per week, were less likely to have low birthweight babies, pregnancy-related diabetes and high blood pressure.

Breathe

Our breath is our life force. It's more important than food, water, and even love. It is the rare act that both happens automatically and is also controlled by us. Yoga helps us to focus on our breath and breathing in ways that we never have before. Virayoga founder and Art of Attention author Elena Brower says that the focus on breathing, in particular, can help moms-to-be decompress.

“When we practice when we’re pregnant, it makes a space in our bodies that we need ... for the baby and for ourselves," says Brower. "Breathing helps us create that opening inside of ourselves. Breathing helps us to see that we don’t have to react so quickly… Having that kind of space helps us be patient and helps us realize there’s time for everything.”

Stretch

Prenatal yoga includes specific postures that safely stretch the ligaments, tendons, and muscles that either become more taut during pregnancy, and/ or need to be released for an easier and safer labor and birth. Practicing yoga during pregnancy may help an expectant mom to better accept the beautiful and necessary changes (or challenges) that she and her body are experiencing. 

Strengthen 

Prenatal yoga can help to increase a mom's mental & physical strength and endurance in preparation for some of the toughest work that she will ever do- birth a child. Prenatal yoga classes may vary in intensity from very physically challenging to restorative. Additionally, moms within the same class may require varied modifications from each other, based on their previous level of physical fitness, current state of health, prescribed precautions, or daily energy level (women in their 2nd trimester typically have more energy than women in their first or late in their third). 

Love 

Whether a mom is having her first child or her fifth, her world is about to change dramatically with the birth of this miracle. Taking time out to practice yoga during her pregnancy may be the last selfish act that she will have the time for, and even it is not entirely selfish, since the yoga also helps with a developing fetus' brain and physical health. It is a time for the mother-to-be to connect with herself, as well as with her child. Each time she transitions to a more meditative state during yoga, she has the ability to experience her baby's flips and flutters more deeply. Finally, in a class or community setting, she has the opportunity to meet and gain support from other moms who are vibing with her pregnant self. These connections during pregnancy often blossom into lifelong friendships among the mothers and their children. 

Photo by Robyn Elicia

Prenatal yoga should be safe, enjoyable, invigorating, and empowering. There is no place for judgement or shaming, even within the mother's own head. It is a time to be wholly present with self, while falling  in love with her new self, her new body, and new baby. 

Tell us about how you fell in love with prenatal yoga experience. 

Photos: 1: Jada, 4 hours before going into labor at 40 weeks. 2: Jada, 29 weeks, still teaching and practicing yoga 

Attend a FREE Prenatal Yoga Class with Jada in Memphis during National Yoga Month!

When Breastfeeding Moms Receive Unexpected Support

My individual circle of breastfeeding support included my mother, two cousins, and a few friends who were advocates, but none of them lived near me. Early in my journey, I knew that I would have to reach out to breastfeeding moms in my local community. I joined our local La Leche League, as well as the Facebook group for breastfeeding moms in our area. These two groups, and several others along the way, have provided tremendous support for me, as well as, countless other moms throughout the world. 

Mother's rely on these (mostly private) breastfeeding groups for help with getting prepared, getting started, increasing milk supply, and alleviating nipple soreness. We vent about crazy in-laws, narrow-minded friends, and husbands who are anxious about putting the "fun bags" back to their proper use. We share success stories of husbands who finally get it, BOGO nursing bras, and employers who understand what it takes for a nursing mom to return to work. We intentionally go to these pages for support. We know that's it's available any time of the day or night... seriously, we NEVER sleep. It's so comforting and empowering to know that we can go to these virtual spaces to receive breastfeeding support. It's extra special when support comes from unexpected people, at unexpected times, and in unexpected ways. Last night, after putting my nursing tot back to sleep, I was making my nightly support group rounds to see who I could encourage, celebrate, or console, when I encountered a post that warmed my heart.

Not even 20 minutes later, I saw this one!

Two breastfeeding moms, in the same online support group, in the same town, whose paths may have crossed in posts before... or may not have. Either way, they are sure never to forget one another after this meeting. Without making even one verbal exchange about breastfeeding, without either one being topless, and without any big fuss about when or where to feed the baby, these two star-crossed nursing mamas supported each other with their generosity of word and deed. This is how we normalize breastfeeding. I hope that they become total BFFs now! Breastfeeding Friends Forever! 

In what unexpected ways have you been supported along your breastfeeding or parenting journey?

Blossom Mom

Blossom Health and Maternal Wellness