My Wake Up Call...What Will Yours Be?

I finally went to the doctor.

For myself.

Not sure when the last time was that I did that.

Thankfully, I'm rarely sick.  At least not sick enough to need a doctor.  Also, through my journey with raising children, I have found that I am preferring a natural approach to health whenever possible, so you'll find me treating a sinus infection with a concoction of vitamins, herbs, steam, rest, etc instead of turning to antibiotics.  I believe that chiropractic care and massage therapy can help heal a body.  I tend to be distrustful of pharmaceutical products and lean towards natural/homeopathic remedies.  So really I often just don't have a need for a doctor.

But there have been some very significant changes in my personal life in the past 6 months, and I'm feeling the effects (affects?  I hope no English majors are policing me!) of them.  I decided to try a new doctor, someone I know from church, and hope that I would like her and work well with her.  I need someone that I trust, someone tolerant of me declining most vaccines, someone tolerant of me wanting to research literally everything, you get the picture.

So I went.  And I loved her :)  But I didn't necessarily like what she had to say.

In the past 6 months my husband went from being a stay at home dad to being employed overseas for a year.  I went from being a working mom to being a stay at home mom.  I weaned my youngest from breastfeeding (I have been continually breastfeeding for over 8 years, even breastfed through pregnancies and tandem nursed my children).  Connor was admitted to the hospital twice and is now facing a new diagnosis (a neuromuscular disorder not related to 22q).

In other words, my life is haywire.

No surprise, I've gained some weight.

I told you all that this blog would be a real life journey of a very normal person, well here I am!  I also have ups and downs, times of great focus and success and times of near failure, times when I run marathons and times when I sit on the couch with a bag of potato chips (I prefer tortilla chips actually).  This blog is about persevering through those periods and remembering to focus on MY health, MY sanity, not just my children's.

Connor's 22q isn't going anywhere.  But I am.  I'm going for a run tonight.  One step at a time, I'll get myself back on track.

I've already gotten a few messages in response to this blog, people who have told me they are appreciating this "wake up call".  Well, let's do this together!


Sweat away the frustrations!

Feeding your mind, body, and soul (and sweet tooth!)

So let me start this post with a confession.  I am by no means an expert at any of this.  If you came here for expert advice, I will be happy to point you to smarter people.  If you came here for motivation, I'm your gal.  If you came here to see a real person living real life and doing the best she can (which means failing sometimes), I'm definitely your gal!

Let me also say that I'm a smart person.  Sure sure, I have a college degree, but that's not what I mean.  I mean that I have basic logic and basic research skills.  I *KNOW* what foods are good for my body and what foods are bad for my body.  That part isn't hard.  I even *like* the taste of many fruits and vegetables.  I'm even a good cook and am very good at sneaking healthy foods into my kids (they have no idea how many vegetables are in their spaghetti sauce!)

But I also tend to be lazy.  And I often fall into the trap of being out and about taking Connor to doctors over an hour away (which means I have to plan 2 hours to get there to account for traffic, parking, and time from parking garage to the actual registration desk, plus arrive 15 minutes early, the whole deal)  So a 30 minute appointment means I'm away from home for about 4.5 hours (2 hours there, 30 minutes with dr, 2 hours back)

It is too easy to swing through the drive through.

Or hit up the hospital cafeteria.

And don't even get me started on my coffee addiction.  Not just black coffee either.  Dang it, why can't I just drink my coffee black??  And WHY did McDonalds have to put their iced coffee on sale for $1 any size all summer anyway?????

I go through phases where I really focus on my nutrition.  I know that good food feeds more than just my body, it fuels my mind and even my soul.  I FEEL BETTER WHEN I EAT GOOD FOOD.  So why is it so hard to do?  So I'll get off track and after a while I'll start to really hate myself.  I don't like how I look.  I don't like how I feel.  It's amazing to me how fast it rubs off on other areas of my life too.  My nice clothes start to get tight, so I wear my more comfy clothes.  If I'm wearing my comfy clothes, why care about doing my hair or makeup?  Why put on cute heels when flip flops are just as good?  Suddenly I'll wake up and realize exactly what's happening.  And I'll vow to change it.  And usually I do!  I will set some simple rules and then reward myself for sticking to them.  As I start to feel better I'll add some more rules.  I try not to deprive myself.  So my rule will be something like "1 fruit with every meal"  Then "1 vegetable with every meal"  (and those both have to be something in addition to what I was already having, so if I was having spaghetti I don't get to count all the veggies I added to the sauce, I have to have an extra veggie and an extra fruit)

It's true that the small steps really do add up.

But what to do about the half day long appointments?  I haven't gotten good enough to plan ahead and pack food.  But I will make deals with myself.  Something like "if I choose the baked chicken, I will let myself have the coffee."

I will put a plug in here for ViSalus and Beachbody.  If any of you know them, you'll be shocked I just wrote those two products in the same sentence (they're competitors).  I've tried both products and I loved them!  It's a perfect solution for days when you know you'll be out for hours and you want to avoid the drive thru.  Make a shake before you leave, put it in a cooler with ice, drink it half way through the day, you'll make it home still satisfied and knowing you got something much healthier than any drive thru or cafeteria!  (you still have to feed your kid though!)

My confession to all of you is that I'm writing this partly to motivate myself to get back on track.  My husband has been gone out of the country for the last 5 months and I got laid off from work 4 months ago.  I'm definitely struggling to find a good routine for both fitness and nutrition right now.  But this is my pledge to put these rules to work and get focused again!  My next race is in only 26 days, it's a short one (Mud Ninja, only 5K and 20 or so obstacles) but I'm sure will still challenge me, so I'd better get focused!!!

Here's my obligatory picture for today, I got 2 miles in on my elliptical before I was interrupted by a phone call from our insurance case manager.  45 minutes later when I got off the phone (with the billing issue still unresolved...sigh...) it was time to get ready to take Connor to an appt, so I never finished my last mile.  2 is better than none, right?

Who I Am, Why I Run

Hello!  I imagine many of you found your way to my blog via The Dempster Family Foundation or a 22q support group, or maybe you stumbled on this by accident.  However you got here, I welcome you!

My name is Samantha.  I am a mom of 3 wonderful boys named Ian, Connor, and Gavin.  Connor was born with 22q11.2 deletion, DiGeorge Syndrome, Velocardiofacial Syndrome (pick your name, I don't care what you call it, although I will refer to it as "22q" on this blog).  When Connor was born I was a Captain in the Air Force.  His healthcare needs did not make it easy for me to continue serving on active duty, so when he was 6 months old I left active duty.

Being a mother is hard.  Being a working mother is hard.  Being a working mother of 2 children when 1 has special needs was overwhelming for me.  Oh, I hid it well.  People thought I was amazing!  But inside I was falling apart.  I had lost myself in that world of medical jargon, tests, specialists, treatment rooms, therapies, and surgery waiting rooms.  Nothing in my life mattered any more except making sure my son got what he needed.  My other son was an after thought sometimes.  My husband barely existed for me for some time.  Not because of anything he did or didn't do.  But, as a woman, my response was to turn all "mama-bear" and protect my young.  My baby was hurting, I had to do something.  I went to work, I cared for Connor, I cared for Ian, I tried to cook and clean, then I eventually went to sleep.  Day after day.

Until one day, when Connor was about 10 months old, I knew that I had to find *me* again.  I'm not sure exactly what made me wake up, but I'm thankful I did.  I started going to the gym with some military guys I worked with.  I remembered how much I actually enjoyed working out.  I was hooked!

It wasn't easy.  Connor was critically ill his first year.  He was undiagnosed until 11 months old.  His airway had multiple defects that made his breathing difficult.  He had a swallowing disorder that made feeding him a nightmare.  He was so underweight that I was waking him frequently to feed him.  I was scared to let him sleep alone, but he was medically unable to safely cosleep, so I spent most nights holding him.  I also spent many many MANY hours in the wee hours of the morning researching all the things wrong with him, trying desperately to find the underlying cause.  Then when we did find his 22q, I spent many many MANY hours learning everything there was to learn about it.  He didn't sleep, which meant I didn't sleep.

My gym buddies met at 6:30am, worked out for an hour, and got to work by 8am.  I live 20 minutes away, and I needed to pump before I could workout.  So I was up at 5am to pump, pack my gym bag, pack my lunch, and head to the gym.  Then I'd workout, shower, dress, head to work, pump, work, pump and eat lunch, work, pump again, work some more, and eventually go home.  Often I'd leave for appointments for Connor.  When I wasn't at appointments with him, I was in constant contact with my husband talking about therapy appointments.

In so many ways it would have been easier to not workout.  Surely I had no extra time or sleep to sacrifice.  But something was tugging at me to continue.

When Connor was 14 months old I made a commitment to run my first race (my first race post college, anyway!).  I signed up for the Air Force Marathon 10K that was 4 months away.  Yes, I was insane.  I had a training partner, and he and I would run together 3 days a week at 6:30am rain or shine.

That September I ran my first race.  I made my own racing shirt and put a picture of my two boys on the back with the words "Why I Run"  I had people mention to me how adorable they were.  I explained to a volunteer at a water station that Connor had a syndrome, and I was running as a way to alleviate some stress.  That was my first true awareness opportunity outside of my direct friends and family!

When I was entering the finish line chute at the end of the race, I found my husband and boys.  I stopped running long enough to hug them.  Right then I knew that I LOVED those three and I HAD to continue taking care of myself so I could better take care of them.  My family needed me, they needed ALL of me.  And one way I could be sure to give them my best was to make sure I first gave myself my best.  Somewhere in this crazy world of special needs parenting, I had to continue finding the time to focus on me.

My name is Samantha, and I run for myself, I run for my family, I run for awareness.

    Me and Connor, May 2012