Often defined as the transition of a woman into motherhood, it has also been likened to going through adolescence again, mom-style, due to the fluctuation in hormones, the rapid changes in the body, the newly forming identity of oneself and one’s place in society, as well as changes in one’s day to day life. Alexandra Sacks, a psychiatrist, wrote a piece in the NY Times called The Birth of A Mother that covers a bit why this transition is so powerful, but often overlooked as society focuses on the baby and ignores how momentous of a change it is for the mother.
This lack of conversation around the realities of becoming a mother has been suspect in being one of the many factors that contributes to postpartum depression, as a mother may feel she is supposed to be estatic about her newborn baby, without expressing any negative emotions despite the magnitude of change her life has just undergone.
In effort to mitigate that mental divide, allowing mothers to express all their emotions, and to create recognition in society about the magnitude of change motherhood is, many companies, academic institutes, and individual professionals are researching and producing more information about this time, working to get the message across. Another huge player in the field is the clinical psychologist Aurélie Athan, whose focus is on reproductive psychology. She looks at both striving and struggling moms in order to normalize the transition to motherhood and continues to work to revive the term and meaning of matrescence. She has even worked on getting some of the first academic concentrations and graduate-level certificate programs created that focus on reproductive and maternal wellbeing because she recognizes the importance of getting health providers, activists, and others involved in the spread of awareness about matrescence.
So if you are a new mom wondering why you feel so off, so different, and how to deal with these feelings of ambivalence towards your new life, know that you are not alone and that you should definitely speak up about how you feel. It will help cultivate a culture of acceptance around our motherhood adolescence.
Jake and I had been talking when he said something that made my brain go “OH!” and basically re-wired years of misguided searching. What he said to me was, “I think you are confusing community with suburbia. You grew up in a suburb, but you had a community… most of the time suburbia is not synonymous with community.”
Now that may seem obvious to you readers, but for me it was an eye opening moment. For years I have waxed poetic about how and where I grew up, equating the two in my mind and constantly yearning to find that again as an adult, in a new place. We actually currently live in a suburb (though a weird one because it acts like a seceded city from a larger nearby one. It also gets terrible amounts of run-off traffic that only a coastal town abutted by a huge city can get).
When Jake said that to me it hit me that that was what is missing from here versus where I grew up. I lived in the same place from ages 11-23ish and got to re-invent my life in my community over and over again. I had friends in the area sure, but even after many of them came and went I had their parents, my neighbors, new co-workers with whom often shared people in common who we knew, random encounters with townsfolk, etc. The life felt interwoven and connected despite me spreading my wings in multiple literal towns.
So while I was taking a bath today I was thinking about my community and what it takes to have one and why I don’t have one here. Some of it is definitely a product of time. I have only lived in this town for 10 months now, most of which I was pregnant for or had just given birth, and for all of it I was sleep deprived and battling topical steroid withdrawal. So yes, I haven’t been spreading my roots as aggressively as I could have. I started out strong: when I moved here, I baked cookies and delivered them to neighbors’ houses with hand-sketched phoenixes as a weird get-to-know-you thing; and then I also made it a point to meet all the librarians during multiple library visits, and also explored the farmers market on occasion. But then between my physical condition and my pre-to-post baby phase, I grew tired.
That and was hard to establish a deep connection when one is in different stages of life. Our neighbors are mostly all parents with kids who are between 9-19 years old, and the parents themselves are probably all in their 40s (I’m guessing). Many of the parents include one of the couple who is a state native, and if not born-and-bred in this town, they were probably born in one within a 15 mile radius, and thus lots of them have family around. Many of them are working, or randomly gone a lot of the time so it’s always a chance encounter when I do see them.
It’s also just a different type of town than what I grew up in. This is car community. I’ve tried to make it walkable to the extent that I love, but the sidewalks end randomly and the roads are hilly and windy, and people tend to speed aggressively. It was fine when it was just me on foot, but with Fiona in her stroller I just don’t feel as comfortable.
But how does this relate to a spider web? And why am I thinking about spiders when I have such a phobia of them? Well, I’ve been reading a lot of southern-set books lately (first ‘Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil’ by John Berendt and most recently ‘The Prince of Tides’ by Pat Convoy), and the one thing they have in common is a deep-seeded love for their environment. They talk about the flora and the fauna and the smells and the colors as an important part of the experience around the stories they weave.
In The Prince of Tides (which is fiction), there is a background story within the story that talks about how black widow spiders helped save the family from a murderous intruder (because the children released the spiders all over said intruder) and how afterwards the family never killed another spider again, and it made me think about spiders and my own fear of them. Then when Jake and I were discussing community, I thought to myself, “hey, a community is kind of like a web” and that led to this post.
A community is like a web. And by this I mean that the ideas behind a web almost fully apply (if taken with creative liberties).
A web is built slowly over time,
One thin gossamer strand at a time
With the determination of knowing what it should look like
But innately, without blueprint,
With knowledge of its fragility
And understanding of the need for constant adjustment
As bugs and debris and miscellaneous items rend it broken.
It is made over an existing space
Be it flora, or the existing corners of a barn
Or something in-between
The web does not exist without some sort of baseline structure
But it can be recreated over and over again in new places
As need demands, thread by thread
Again and again as it suits the needs of its creators
Anyway, that’s where my mind was roaming today. I think it’s also why I yearn to move back to my parents’ area. I found a community I liked and now I just want to return to it so Fiona can experience it too. Maybe that’s lazy, but I make no excuses for it.
The other day I watched one of those Netflix originals movies called Dumplin’ (based off a book of the same name by Julie Murphy), and for some reason it just grew more and more on me and I actually ended up watching it twice in a row (the second time because I wanted to share it with Jake). I’d say I was drawn to the film because it depicted a coming-of-age story and body positivity in a better, more realistic light. Rather than stick to tropes about the misunderstood teenager or underappreciated mom, the story came into its own by the protagonist teen learning to accept her reality (being overweight) and not let her own misconceptions color or limit her life experience. I know that’s vague but I am attempting to avoid spoilers for anyone interested in watching it.
A majority of the movie characters also fan-girl over Dolly Parton and use her songs and words as inspiration to live their best lives, such as:
“find out who you are and do it on purpose”
“you’ll never do a whole lot unless you’re brave enough to try”
among many others that pepper the movie with external applicability and general charm. The whole point of the movie, besides family bonding, was to show the importance of developing confidence and trust in who you are and those in your life who support you, even if you don’t understand how or why.
I feel that this resonates so strongly with living with eczema. It can be a constant battle to accept yourself in this skin, and not assume everyone is silently judging you or that you don’t belong. However, it is also crucial that such feelings don’t stop you from being genuine and always trying, even if it feels uncomfortable. And as for those supporting you, you have to be able to accept that they see you beyond your skin, because the skin you’re in doesn’t define who you are.
I personally don’t know much about Dolly Parton, but after watching this movie full of her quotes and songs, I am inspired to learn more about her and listen to her music, especially if I’m ever feeling down. Dolly Parton fans feel free to throw out recommendations.
I also inexplicably wondered what it would be like to have regional eczema balls (the dance kind), that allow those living with eczema to let their metaphorical hair down and mix and mingle in a somewhat formal setting to create their own sense of magical community and touch of the unexpected. Actually I do know how that got into my head. I had been talking with a friend who got into dancing and it just felt like something that could be a lot of fun. Just imagine if you had a room full of understanding people who get the red-skinned, elephant-wrinkled, constant itch and snowflake life, and so they can all dance despite it, no worries, just silliness.
Happy belated Halloween! Yes, I know I’m a day late but I’m including other holidays to pad my belated holiday post.
I started writing this at 3am on Halloween, and boy was I feeling it. I’d say I was doing about as well as an old cracking, stiff black leather couch on a dry heat kind of day when hot human flesh sprawls on top it (aka I was both drying out and exuding an uncomfortable amount of heat). To compound that, Fi kept waking up around every 2 hours, and it takes me at least 15-45 minutes to go back to sleep after she’s cared for, so deep healing sleep was not in my repertoire the other night, folks.
And so, instead of sleeping, I got all ready to chat about my once favorite holiday, Halloween. Did I mention how I absolutely love to dress up (or did before my skin started raging against the machine that is my body)? Anyway, I truly believe this day (or days) of year is (are) incredibly magical. For one, there are so many different cultural holidays, from our Halloween roots of Samhain, to All Saints’ Day to Latin America’s Día de los Muertos, to harvest festivals, to Guy Fawkes Day, etc.
Let’s start with the American classic holiday, Halloween. We all know how the holiday is celebrated today, at least in North America (though I’ve got a fun example of how it’s changing in an eczema-friendly direction that I’ll talk about later in the post), so for now let’s skip back a few decades to talk about Halloween’s origins.
Here’s the shortened history. Halloween had its roots from the Celtic festival Samhain, a celebration of the end of summer and the start of the harvest season. Because of the weather changes from summer to winter, it was also believed that this was a time when the worlds of the living and the death overlapped, and spirits could return to earth. To celebrate, the Celtic priests (Druids) made large bonfires where people brought sacrifices from their farm production, and they dressed up in animal skins.When the Roman Empire conquered the Celtic territory, they introduced other festivals that blended into our current holiday lore, such as commemorating the dead and festivals of fruit and trees (one which may have inspired the oldtradition of bobbing for apples).The blending of Christianity into the Celtic territories led to holidays like All Souls’ Day, which was like Samhain but people dressed up as angels, devils, and saints, and eventually All Saints Day was moved to November 1st and Samhain (which became All Hallows Eve, and then Halloween) became the night before or October 31st. Halloween in America started out more similarly to the harvest festivals, then formed into an amalgam of folklore, ghost stories, mischief, and asking for treats. Over time it was reformed to try to be more community-based with parties, and with treats being given out to avoid tricks becoming the norm. At some point costumes were encouraged, first as a way to deter roaming spirit from recognizing living people, and then it was more for fun as it was modernized to what we know it as today.
Speaking of modernizing, there’s a new version of Sabrina the Teenaged Witch redone as a Netflix original (called Chilling Adventures of Sabrina) that definitely takes a much darker take on the 90s sitcom. In it, Sabrina is a half-witch, half-mortal who is constantly taking on the patriarchy, which is particularly creative when the patriarchy in question is not always that of humanity. But that’s where I’ll stop just in case anyone is planning on watching it (noting that some of the themes and violence are not appropriate for young children).If I were to try to liken the show’s general theme to that of eczema, I’d say it would be that you should always feel free to fight to create your own space, your own identity, and your own world even when the options seem to be telling you that you have a limited amount of choice. I’d elaborate more but I’m trying not to give away too many thematic spoilers.
And as promised, here’s a fun eczema-friendly movement that’s developed. Called the Teal Pumpkin Project, it’s a movement that is in recognition of the growing amount of life-threatening food allergies. Pioneered by a mom named Becky Basalone from Tennessee in 2012, she painted a pumpkin teal to indicate that she would offer alternatives to candy on Halloween, as her son had anaphylaxis and she wanted to have a way for him to still enjoy the holiday without worry. The Food Allergy Research and Education organization picked up the Teal Pumpkin Project and helped it gain country-wide recognition in 2014, encouraging people around the nation to put out these teal pumpkins to let families know that there are allergy-free (non-edible) treats available. So now, for those children out there that may be going through some sort of systematic inflammation disorder (be it food allergies, eczema, or something else), they also have a way to still partake in the festivities of All Hallow’s Eve. If you want to be involved, you can paint a pumpkin teal and put it outside your house, and then add your house to the teal pumpkin project map.
Now for Día de los Muertos (or Day of the Dead). This holiday has seen an increase in recognition in the states over the years (just look at movies such as Book of Life, or the newer Disney movie Coco). It entails a celebration of one’s deceased, honoring their lives by creating an ofrenda (or offerings) for them of food, flowers, colorful skeletons, and people don brightly colored clothing and have parades and music and festivities to celebrate their family. The belief (of which developed from a mix of Aztec culture and Catholicism) is that on the Day of the Dead one’s ancestors come back to visit on earth, but it is disrespectful to grieve for one’s deceased, so instead it is a day of reunion and remembrance and happiness.
And lastly we have Guy Fawkes Day. Many of you may be familiar with this holiday due to the 2006 movie V for Vendetta, that centers around this elusive date of November 5th (easily remembered by the ditty: “remember remember the 5th of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.” The history behind this holiday was that under various monarchs in England, (but primarily under King James I’s rule), Catholics were persecuted, unable to marry, fined for refusing to attend non-Catholic services, etc. Various attempts to overthrow the ruling king were enacted but the most famous was that done by Guy Fawkes and company. Their plan was to use gunpowder to blow up parliament on November 5th, 1605. Somehow, a letter was delivered to parliament about the plot, and Fawkes was stopped November 4, and subsequently he and his team were sentenced to be drawn and quartered as punishment for high treason. Celebrations with bonfires started after the plot was revealed and November 5th became known as Guy Fawkes Day, (even spreading to America as Pope Day where people burned the Pope in effigy). Although America stopped celebrating their version, in Britain, Guy Fawkes Day entails (even today) bonfires, fireworks, parades, and of course, burning Fawkes in effigy. The holiday has taken a spin where Guy Fawkes is sometimes seen as a hero, a change which is attributed to the movie V for Vendetta, where V wears a Guy Fawkes mask as he attempts to topple a fascist government regime. Spoiler alert: in the movie, V goes on a last stand rampage to kill off the remaining “bad guys” and results in him sacrificing himself. While he is dying, he shares a “kiss” (put in quotes because the heroine, Evie, kisses his mask), and then he dies and she puts his body onto the train with all the explosives, that runs under parliament. Maybe if V had lived in this time period, instead of deciding to sacrifice himself he would have jumped into the bandwagon of #unhideECZEMA, but pioneered his own movement to be about unhiding burns, and then he could have removed the mask and gloves and found himself worthy of living a new life with Evie. But then there wouldn’t be a movie.
Speaking of movies, here’s a side note to end with (though it’s not family-friendly and it’s quite violent and whatnot): the movie Deadpool actually supports the idea really well of skin issues not being a big deal. Spoiler alert: Ryan Reynolds’ character Wade, aka Deadpool, becomes horribly disfigured from a mutant experiment and spends the first movie chasing after the psychopath doctor who did it to him to get the doctor to make him good-looking again before he is wiling to go back to see his beloved girlfriend/fiancée, Ness. When that plan ultimately fails and he is going to be forever scarred, he is still reunited with Ness and she is upset at him for wasting time away from her, but unfazed by his skin. The old adage holds true, love is goes deeper than skin deep.
And now here’s to me hoping my skin is cooler tonight and I can sleep.
Two days ago I was working on a post where I mentioned a book I was reading (The Little Book of Skin Care: Korean Beauty Secrets for Healthy, Glowing Skin by Charlotte Cho) and how it explained that Koreans have a different mentality about their skin. Their attitude is that skin care regiments are to be enjoyed, rather than thought of as a chore. My thoughts were that it would be amazing if there was a way to cultivate such an attitude into the lives of those with eczema, to get us to see managing our skin not as a burden, but as something we could learn to embrace and therefore lovingly treat ourselves during our routines. My hope is that the better the attitude we can have about the inevitable (having to put in a lot of time to manage our skin), the better we can mentally feel about living with eczema. Speaking of living with eczema…
show the world your skin. Don’t hide away and fear the general public’s response but rather embrace your skin and “unhide eczema”,
change how you talk about yourself and eczema. Don’t say you are suffering from eczema, but rather say you are living with it. The power of words is remarkable, and having an empowered attitude or at least one of acceptance is so important, especially as it is a part of you. So change the way you talk and change the way you think about yourself and eczema, and
speaking of empowering, empower yourself and others by sharing your story. You’d be surprised by how many people have eczema and need to know they aren’t alone. The power of telling your story might even help you heal!
The idea of empowering oneself when you have eczema and sharing your stories brought me back to an article I had recently stumbled upon about a woman who cured her eczema through faith. Specifically, it was this woman’s power of belief that drew me. I think it can be so hard to find a way to keep believing you will heal when you’re stuck in the midst of a bad flare, and that is when it becomes essential to find your voice and talk about what you’re going through. Whether this is sharing a story about being miraculously cured, or of just finding a product that made you feel just a tad better, the ability to speak up and open up abour your experience is such a powerful tool. For one you are giving yourself a voice, regardless if it’s driven by frustration or elation.
You’re also you’re giving yourself a chance to build community (which I’m sure by now you know I’m obsessed with, but for good reason). Community is so important in this day and age because not only can you pass down the wisdom of the products you’ve tried, but you can continue to reinforce that you are not alone. I can’t state the value of this enough.
Just imagine you are in a public place (let’s say a movie theater) and you start to scratch an itch on your neck and you are feeling self conscious because you didn’t cover up your eczema with clothing layers today, but instead of sinking into your seat or averting your eyes, when you notice the person sitting next to you watching you scratch, you speaking speak up (before the lights have dimmed and the previews have started of course). And said person is like, “Wait, you have eczema too?! Omg have you tried x? And did you hear about the meet-up to visit the new eczema clothing company? Free samples! Oh and have you joined the eczema walking and group? Heard about the fair? Tried the eczema yoga morning classes?” And then someone else overhears your conversation and they chip in, and then another, and then before you know it you’ve made all these new connections and been inspired by all these new ideas on how to augment your own care and all it took was not worrying about hiding your flared-up neck, and being willing to chat. On a side note, apparently the NEA’s annual Eczema Expo is a lot like that dialogue interaction (I hope I can go this year!!).
My point is you have to be brave and take a chance. If nothing else comes of it, at least you are increasing awareness, and that alone helps trickle into better attention by the powers that be, which can lead to policies changes, shape doctors’ standard protocols, cause businesses to make new product lines, etc. Plus you spoke up and expressed yourself, which is huge. It is so important to not feel like you have to hide the part of you that is as impactful and long acting as eczema.
I’m totally with the #unhideeczema movement because it can be so damaging to have to modify everyday life habits to take care of your skin that the last thing you want to do is hide away, not to help heal, but because you feel ashamed. There is no reason to be ashamed. Over 31 million people in the U.S. alone have eczema. You are not alone.
And so that is why I think it’s so important to take these chances, speak up, show some skin! Because this is your life, and yeah you may be living with eczema, but don’t let that stop you from living!
And here’s a recent picture of me living it up with Fi in our comfy autumnal pajama apparel.
One last thing, if you don’t know where to start telling your story, get some ideas from the National Eczema Association. The organization goes into more detail about the mental benefits of writing your story in a recent post here.
I swear I have a post I’ve been working on that is (relatively) thought out and not like this one where I am just typing as I think things. But alas, I cannot finish anything lately and so that well-constructed post will be another day or two. I still spend many of my days in a haze, and not because of the baby, as you might have thought. Oh no, it’s because my skin has decided to develop a fresh subcutaneous sheen of itchiness. Barely perceptible to the naked eye (my skin looks pretty good lately, minus scabs and scars), it plagues me especially when I lay down for the night. Why am I flaring? I have no idea, especially since the skin is looking better. Maybe it’s the change in weather. Or perhaps it’s something I ate (which is always my fear). Who knows.
When not in a haze, I spend a lot of time scouring my kitchen for things to eat. As prescribed by the pediatricians I’ve been taking Fi to, I am no longer eating soy, dairy, wheat, or egg products in my food. Though I am no stranger to partial elimination diets or other dietary changes, I don’t think I’ve ever avoided egg yet while among the others. So now you’ll often find me longingly looking at a pasta box, and eyeing the forbidden cheese as a hobby. That takes up a bit more of my time.
Then (and eventually I’ll have to do a better post about this) there is the time spend dealing with my excoriation disorder (also known as dermatillomania or skin picking). I have always had a weird tendency to scratch at scabs and pop pimples (I know, gross) when I was young, but with the onset of global eczema and the constant scratching for months on end, I definitely fell firmly into this disorder. Sometimes I can be less destructive, or channel the destruction into societal acceptable forms (like using tweezers to remove leg hair), but other times I spend collectively hours picking off dead skin and harassing healing skin. I don’t have the common concurrent comorbidities of depression or trichotillomania (hair pulling) or OCD, though I have noticed that since the age of my worser flares, I do tend to be more obsessive with time wasting things (like trying to get my graduate notes perfect, which entailed me rewriting them over and over in different notebooks, never actually managing to finish one before I had a new idea of a better system to help me study more efficiently). Anyway, so to combat that I try to keep my nails really short, and keep my hands clean and busy, whether that’s typing blog posts, reading, or wildly gesturing to my baby to make her smile (still waiting on that first laugh), I try to condition myself to not focus on picking.
Then a large portion of every day I spend worrying that I should be working, that finding/creating these part time opportunities while staying home with Fi is not enough and that I need something full time. I don’t know why I’m so insecure about this, the people in my life have been nothing but supportive. Perhaps it’s from the occasional comment, or the sporadic question about when I’m going back to work, am I back at work, do I enjoy being back at work. Or my favorite one to answer, “what do you do?”. The sassy bit of me wants to retort, “well I exist, so eat, breathe, sleep, and shit are on the list. Then I like to round myself out by engaging in basic hygiene, getting exercise, and enjoying sunshine”. Obviously, I keep these kinds of comments in my head.
Even when I was little I was less interested in a career pathway than in making adventures and experiences into stories (well, except for a brief stint where I wanted to be a dentist because I thought teeth were interesting and I wanted to be the gentle-handed one that removed people’s fear of getting dental work done). I wanted to be a writer because I loved stories and just wanted to create my own. I was obsessed with reading multiple books even at social events because I loved finding out what happened next. And if I’m being honest I still want to be a writer today, just a different kind. Then after that I decided I wanted to be a naturalist… only at the time I thought naturalist entailed tying a cloth around a stick and adventuring into the woods to forage for edibles. I do think that was just a storyteller’s bend on biology (which I then went on to study in college… hmm). Momentary break.
What was this post about? I actually had to quickly scroll up to see the title I wrote earlier. In my defense, I walked away from the computer for a while to change Fi’s diaper and make more food, then to feed Fi again. Oh right, distractions. That’s apt. I guess I should have said distractions from what. I suppose distractions away from making a clearer post. Unfortunately that’s the nature of the game I’m playing lately. I have all these ideas for posts, many of which I’m working on, but the more research they require or the more motivation for words I need to work towards, the longer it takes to actually complete.
Oh, and another distraction is the book thing. I have a book problem. I tend to get 10+ books at a time from the library and then pigheadedly want to finish them all before their due dates, despite not having unlimited time to read. So instead I end up binging books in the middle of the night which doesn’t help with the insomnia. And then I’m more tired the next day. Whoops.
Anyway so this winter I am trying to distract myself from bad habits. This winter I’m am going to try extremely hard to keep my skin going in the right direction: healing. Usually once the cool air touches down and I inevitably become more sedentary, my skin becomes crap. So now I am trying to mitigate that by embracing winter’s cold touch (and trying a rotation of new products for different flare periods) and making sure I exercise more. And to combat the winter body blues (also in lieu of doing a drinking game with a TV series), this past weekend my husband and I made a fitness game. We tally up various events in a show which then equate to an exercise to do. After each episode we have to do the routine before we can go to the next one. Currently, we have one template for True Blood and I’ll describe our rules below.
True Blood Drinking Fitness Game (amended to make a single episode be more or less a full workout)
anyone cries tears = 10 body weight squats
someone dies = 1 lap around the house
someone makes love = 5 pushups
someone drinks alcohol or blood/V/trublood = 2 burpees
someone is racist/sexist/vamp phobic = 25 calf raises
Sookie responds to thoughts = 10 mountain climbers/side
someone shape shifts = 5 high jumps
there’s a fight = 10 bicycles/side
someone is invited into or kicked out of a house = 15 second plank
a main character is threatened/in danger/attacked= 5 bridges
a new supernatural being is introduced = 50 butt kickers
glamour is used =10 lizard steps
someone is shirtless = 10 bear steps/side
some says a sexual innuendo = 10 side steps/side
someone has a dream/nightmare/daydream = 1 turkish get-up
someone says “f*ck you/off” = 5 single leg deadlifts
a vampire speeds somewhere = 2 lunges/side
someone says “Sookie” or “Sook” = add one to a previously blank or lower tallied number above
a main character dies = x2 to all above
So far it’s been entertaining and usually we get a decent workout. We started adding more stipulations as we continued watching, which led to longer workouts (a good thing since True Blood episodes are about an hour long, so we are up and moving for longer periods between). Anyway, I’ll leave off this post there, especially since I keep getting distracted by the yummy smells coming from the oven telling me dinner is ready!