Cravings! Did you say Organic American Cheese?

When I was pregnant, my cravings were incredible. I wanted it all: bitter, sour, sweet, salty and I wanted it now! I did my best, however, to adhere to my food beliefs as much as I could.

My food decree started during my days at University of California, Santa Cruz. The courses and on-campus meals guilted me into eating mainly organic and vegetarian (eventually becoming vegan) to where tofu, broccoli, and rice milk ice cream were my major food groups. I was only "saved" from this meal planning by an acupuncturist who "prescribed" me to eat red meat as a cure to stop my lightheadedness in tae kwon doe class. Since then, I revere animals and the environment (I mean really, 4 years of being around vegans and a degree in Environmental Studies from UCSC will grind that info into your soul!) yet my body does better when I eat meat and dairy (sorry PETA!). I do my best, however, to be selective about the companies I am supporting, their practices, and try to buy organic and cage-free as much as I can knowing that my dollar speaks for itself. And when I became pregnant, I held to my food decree as much as creatively possible because it was no longer just a political statement and health choice for me, but for my unborn baby who would be the recipient of any food pesticides or hormones.

But my unstoppable hunger and cravings led me to add 40 pounds to my slender build during my pregnancy. And for me, a 5'3" athlete and body-conscious gal, that 40 pounds felt like 1,000, making me achy and incredibly uncomfortable. Yet the aches weren't enough to squelch my desires for the large quantities of different flavored foods. My husband would cook and I would mechanically shove the food into my mouth. I ate and ate and ate until I could eat just a teeny bit more. After awhile of eating the same organic food over and over, I soon needed something new to satisfy these cravings. The only way I was able to adhere to my "organic" quest AND satisfy these bizarre hormone-induced desires simultaneously was with Safeway's agreement to carry more organic foods, including Horizon's Organic American Cheese.

Leave it to Horizon to come out with an organic American Cheese. I mean, really, what semi eco-conscious, comfort-food loving, pregnant gal was on their marketing staff the day they voted on Organic American cheese? Well, that oil-based, dye-infused, overly-packaged Organic American Cheese found my soft spot. In fact, I must have downed over 10 giant packages of this cheese during my gestational time (that along with organic hot dogs, organic dark chocolate, organic yerba mate, organic ketchup, organic ice cream, organic pickles, and all organic fruits).

Now it seems somewhat gross to devour that much American cheese, but at that time, that's what I needed. And I was beyond stoked that someone out there was feeling the same way I did, making the dream of Organic American cheese a reality. Kudos, Horizon, for making an organic line of comfort food for hungry, hormonal preggos.

The worries of a mom, then and now

Worry. I think I could have earned a PhD in "worry" during my pregnancy. I exercised my brain down Worry Boulevard, contemplating every possible "what if" and horrible scenario known to woman. Why waste time spending energy on imaginary circumstances when I could just be enjoying the present, you ask? That is my exact sentiment now as I look back at that terribly anxious, worried period. But back then, I was so far engulfed in the sea of worry that it was hard to see the ocean through the waves.

Why was I Soooo Worried?
Up until then, I had spent the last decade pursuing athletic, art and music dreams, leading a fairly care-free life. My only real responsibilities were bills, a marriage, dogs and a few plants. Yet I came from a family of caring people who also exercised their fair share of worrying. So when I became pregnant and unsure about my future, it only seemed natural to worry.

I had already made some interesting decisions and mistakes in my life which led me to worry that I may not make the best parenting decisions. I knew I wanted to be the best Mom ever, providing the best and healthiest choices for my child. But what if I made the wrong choice that would affect my baby's health? How could I purchase the safest, eco-friendly baby gear on our limited budget? I hadn't spent much time around babies in years so how would I know what to do and furthermore, how to distinguish if it is wrong or right? Additionally, from a selfish perspective, I wanted to remain an athlete/artist/musician, maintain the fun lifestyle my husband and I created in the mountains, and ultimately remain distinguishable to my pre-baby self so that when my child grew up, I still had my own life to keep me occupied. Additionally, I hadn't a strong faith in the world at the time as it was, so my cynicism and doubt mixed with my raging hormones to create the ultimate list of worries.

Let the Flood Gates Open!
It all started with my missed period. Oh crap! For three years we had successfully used the natural family planning method. I had been diligent, taking my morning temperature and recording changes in my body year after year, in effort to avoid hormones (which made me bonkers) and un-pleasurable barrier methods. That was three years until I got sick, stressed-out, and didn't take necessary precautions required by my method during such life and bodily changes. And so my husband and I embarked on our new adventure of parenthood earlier than we had planned. And like many men I know, he sandwiched his bit of stress for this unplanned journey between two slices of "calm" and "reasonable." I, on the other hand, took on the attitude and unpredictability of an off-balanced banshee and the worries and paranoia of an overprotective mother bear on sensory-heightening drugs. So my training for my Olympic gold in worries began.

The initial worries were like every other pregnant mom: What vitamins should I take? Which doctor should I use? Will that beer I drank before I knew I was pregnant affect my baby? But then the worries began to vortex, amplifying themselves to be bigger and more intense: How will I teach my baby about sex? Will there be safe water to drink for my baby in years to come? What if there is a draft when my baby is 18? What is a safe car for my kid to drive at 16? The more I worried, the more the worries came. With each worry, there was another tailgating behind it that was more horrific and was aimed further into time than the previous one. Will this carpet omit harmful carcinogens into my baby that will turn into cancer years from now? What if someone kidnaps my baby?What if I die during childbirth and my husband is left to raise my child alone?

When I reflect on it now, I realize it was sad that I couldn't just wholly enjoy being pregnant and instead focused a lot of energy on these morbid thoughts. But at the same time, I am oddly intrigued with how quickly I generated this internal library of worries in a mere few days (too bad those worries weren't money-making ideas!). That said, the worries continued to easily flow through my mind throughout my pregnancy (and ultimately into motherhood). And since my pregnancy and parenting credo is based on doing things as naturally as possible, my worries also included the outcome of non-traditional choices: Midwife and home birth or obstetrician and hospital birth? If hospital, natural birth or epidural? All organic and natural bedding and clothes or the less expensive option of hand-me-downs? Disposable diapers or cloth? and ultimately: How will all of these choices affect the health of my baby?

All in all, my worries were my effort to control the uncontrollable and to be as prepared as possible should something go horribly wrong. By being in control and prepared at all times, I assumed I could avoid any pain and sadness and would be able to provide the "perfect" life for my child. I mean, how could I possibly live with myself if I made the wrong choice and my child was left to suffer? That thought haunted me.

Yet my worries and acts to be overly prepared did not shield me from the problems of pregnant and new-parent life, despite my guardian angels' efforts. I had some bumps and blips including uncomfortable pregnancy symptoms, a long home birth with minor implications, loss of work producing major financial woes, two neighborhood fires, the loss of my grandmother, a major split in my family, two childhood diseases, and two major relocations. And my worries? Though my terrible ones did not materialize, many others came true. Perhaps I focused too hard on them and brought them to fruition? Overall, living with such a burden of anxiety and stress thinking about what can go wrong was tiresome and prevented me from fully enjoying my wonderful daughter to the fullest.

Worry and Fear versus Calm Response
And now after much self-refection, self-help readings, non-denominational spiritual guidance, and lifestyle changes over the last year, I am proud to announce that my worries have greatly decreased. Oddly enough, so have the dilemmas. I sought guidance from a life coach/hypnotherapist who gave me daily practices and worked with me through some of my fears. Then I sought a non-denominational spiritual guide to give me some answers and healing techniques. Together, coupled with daily practice and support from my husband, I have lovingly become accepting of the things I cannot change. Now I'm focusing on what I want to have happen and the wonderful things in my life now versus the things I don't. I realize that all of those bumps in the road were invaluable lessons and I feel grateful for the education. I am spending any "worry" time with appreciating what I have now, especially my beautiful, smart, and healthy 18 month old, my family, friends, and environment. Occasionally I will get a whim of some disaster or epidemic and a waves of nerves travel up my spine. But then I counteract them with a deep breath, reason, and knowing that worrying about "what if's" won't help me to be the best mom I can be.

New parents and pregnant mommies can worry simply because there is no shortage of things to worry about in this world. And most parents will go the the Earth's end to make their child's life wonderful. But as I now know, worrying simply for the sake of thinking it will help is a useless investment of energy and time. If there truly is something horrible to worry about, now I simply decide if it is something that will really affect me. If so, then I do some research and weigh the options. I sit with my gut on making sound choices on how to deal with it versus reacting out of fear and panic. And if I decided that the worry is something sensationalized by the media and has nothing to do with my immediate life, then I just let it go. Who knows? This may not be the best way to act, but so far it has helped me enjoy my today instead of panicking about tomorrow.

Why this blog? (in depth)

In 2007, just when to-do lists couldn't get any longer, bills couldn't stack any higher, and my days couldn't be packed any fuller, I became pregnant. I did as any highly-emotional, pregnant gal who was over-worked, over-stressed and overly tired would do: I freaked out. I freaked out because I was worried how my husband would respond given our rock band was on the verge of booking gigs and how passionate we were for our extreme sports regimen. I freaked out because though we discussed having babies, we didn't have the money to raise a baby in fashion I had dreamed of. And I freaked out because as a control freak, this presented an entirely new world of worry and unknowns that I did not feel completely prepared for.

Needless to say, despite my nerves and uncertainly, everything had a way of working itself out in a brilliantly harmonious way. However, during my pregnancy, I frantically searched the ethers for information that was applicable to me: a pregnant extreme athlete, drummer, artist, introverted extrovert, spiritual, work-at-home entrepreneur, eco-loving gal with a fine taste for humor, nacho cheese, abstract art, dark chocolate, and live music. I found traditional books and some that addressed babyhood for parents who had a budget for a baby, but nothing that applied to me. I just wanted to find someone that could say: "Hey girl, I know exactly what it is like being in your pregnant shoes because I am like you and I've been there. So take it from me: everything is going to be fine." Instead, I had rich stay-at-home mommies, traditional western practitioners, and male doctors giving me their insights and "truths," making me feel like my alternative and natural choices were alien and wrong.

So here I am, almost two and a half years later still searching for that info and other like-minded moms, finding bizarre occurrences amid "regular" mommyhood experiences, and oddly staying sane (well, that could be contended) during the ups and downs of trying to be me and loving my dear daughter & hubbie among it all. As a result, I am hoping my non-linear, journal ramblings and varying artistic interpretations will help someone else know that: 1.) You are not alone, 2.) yes, you will get through pregnancy/motherhood, and 3.) you can still be yourself AND a good mommy. Love to the Mommies!!

Pls note: The posts of this blog are my journal entries about my life and mommyhood in general, not a medical prescription or sermon on how to live your life. Simply a form of expression and perhaps a call out for collective awareness. If any of this offends you, I suggest you stop reading. :) All art and text is copyrighted by me, myself and I. If you are interested in "reprinting" or any artwork, please contact me through my website at http://www.sarazimmerman.net.