WEAR THE DAMN BIKINI

Most of the time, I hate exposing myself. Most of the time, I’m not comfortable in my body. All of the time, I’m worried about how I look. And damn, is it exhausting.

I used to spend no less than 3 hours at the gym before. I’d do cardio. I’d lift weights. I’d work my core till I could barely stand up. I measured my worth by how small my waist was, and whether or not I could fit myself into a size 2 pair of jeans. The number on the scale determined the amount of calories I ate for the week, and I’d say “it’s just water weight” and cut back on water to satisfy myself with how heavy I “really” was. I ran marathon races because running was the fastest way to drop unnecessary pounds around my gut, and I lifted weights because it was socially acceptable to diet if you were a lifter.

Why is that? Why is pushing ourselves to challenging diets okay only if we’re working out? “FuElinG my b0dY f0r hEaLth.” When does it become an eating disorder? Where do you draw the line? I used to purge when I was barely a pound over the weight I wanted to be. Everyone applauded me for being so disciplined with my macros, and even then, I never felt good enough. Then I got pregnant with Maverick, and Lawd help me with what I thought (and still think) about my body now.

The extra skin that folds over when I sit down, when it used to be so tight. The extra cellulite on my legs when I’m not flexed. The extra love that is constricted by my high waisted jeans because I’m too embarrassed to admit I have a postpartum body. I gave birth to a human. My body was adored for growing this human, and now, I scorn at it when I pass by a mirror after I shower. My heart pounds when I step on the scale (especially this week since I gained +4 pounds). I suck in my stomach to feel smaller, even though no one sees beneath my extra large t-shirts.

So this past weekend, I decided to challenge myself. I wore the damn bikini and decided to try my hardest not thinking about my body and what I looked like. I tried my hardest to be present with who I was with, and I tried my hardest to feel good about myself in clothes that didn’t hide me. And honestly…

It felt fucking great. I ate great food. I didn’t hold back on treats. I drank merrily with my family. And even though I’m back in the mindset of wanting to get smaller (it’s a hard mindset to escape for very long), I’m happy I was able to enjoy my time.

Here’s to trying to overcome diet culture and self-loathing behaviors. Here’s to trying to have confidence in myself because I’m a damn good person, and none of that is measured by my waist line or my weight. Here’s to putting on the damn bikini and enjoying life, because my son doesn’t care what his momma looks like… he cares about her being present and engaged. So PUT ON THE DAMN BIKINI GIRL.

my son's a vip, "very immunocompromised person"

This past weekend, my son was admitted for high fevers again and they just wanted to do observation to make sure he didn’t have a seizure. This is the third time since April that he’s been admitted. All of this started back in December. We don’t know why we have a sick baby, but we do, and it’s tough.

Today I thought we were going to walk out of his appointment with a, “his WBCs look great! We’ll just monitor every other week or so to make sure it stays that way.” But we didn’t. Instead, we end up leaving with a VIP card and two lab draws per week until his next follow up. You don’t know how mad this makes me as a mom to know that some random doctor told me that his WBCs were good this weekend, and all of a sudden, my son’s got severe neutropenia and can cut the ER line with this VIP card? It makes me furious that they even released him from the hospital. To be fair, we were scolded for bringing him to the wrong Children’s hospital…

Now I see why…

This makes me feel like an inadequate parent sometimes. Way to make it about yourself, Jakki. I know, I know… I feel awful even saying it honestly, but it’s the truth! When Maverick is sick and I’m helpless, it’s hard to sit there and watch him go through it. It’s hard to watch him get poked and it’s hard to watch him be uncomfortable… I do appreciate everyone that tells me I’m some stellar mom for being able to support Maverick through all of it, but it doesn’t feel stellar.

I never thought that I’d have the kid that went through all of this treatment. It’s almost as if I were living in a movie, and every time we find out not-so-good news, it’s like a new plot twist episode. Sometimes it feels surreal that this is all happening. Like someone is playing a fucking joke on us… I know, weird.

But alas, here I am at 2 AM, researching viral infections that can suppress your immune system for months and cause severe neutropenia. Here I am researching CMV, EBV, HHV, all the hepatitis, and really not coming up with an answer. Nothing fits Maverick’s case yet, and it’s got me more worried. I probably should’ve just let the doctors do all the work… But I’m a nurse, and right now, the only person I’m interested in being a nurse for is my son.

To my dearest baby boy,

It hurts me to see you like this in the hospital. You know exactly what’s going to happen next when you see the nurses or the techs. You know that even though it doesn’t hurt, you still don’t like having your sleep interrupted for a blood pressure. You’ve been poked too many times by people with poor bedside manner and large enough egos to fill the state of Texas. And you’re tired.

Baby boy, mommy is tired, but I’m tired of seeing you in so much pain. I’m tired of seeing you suffer. It makes me feel like a bad mommy because I can’t protect you from any of the things you’re fighting. But I do promise you that no matter what happens, I’m going to be by your side every day. Me and daddy will never leave you alone to fend for yourself. We will be there to hold you and console you and tell you how much we admire and love you.

You are our fighter, Maverick. You are the strongest little guy I know. I love you to the moon and back my love.

Love always,

Mommy

things you can do to make you feel like you have your life together

Do you ever just roll out of bed and suddenly want to get your life together? God, me too. There are some days where I just want to be as productive as possible. But even on the days where I’m lazy, I try to do these few things to make me feel like I did something.

Make your bed as soon as you get up | it really isn’t that hard to make your bed first thing after getting up. My therapist always said that the bed is used for two things, sleep and sex. If you aren’t doing either of those, then get your ass out of bed. Forcing yourself to get up and make your bed really changes your mindset for the day to be more productive. Don’t believe me? Try it.

Fold and put your laundry away, right away | If there’s one thing I hate doing, it’s doing tiny child laundry. My child’s clothes have so many damn buttons… But when it’s laundry day, then I dedicate myself to the goal of getting it all washed, folded, and put away. Having my laundry lying around whether it’s clean or dirty gives me anxiety. The entire place looks messy when there’s clothes scattered all over. So pick your day for laundry, and don’t wait until it’s the day you run out of underwear or socks.

Vacuum the common areas of your home | I actually do have house slippers that I wear around, so most of the time I can’t feel the fur on my floor. I hate that feeling of it feeling dusty and gritty on the floor. My son is constantly neutropenic, so I run a tight ship when it comes to cleaning every day. Every morning after breakfast, I vacuum the entire house. I do this so my kid has less of a chance to find a fur ball and eat it, but also so he isn’t covered in my dog’s fur. If you’re feeling fancy, get a Bissel Crosswave - vacuum AND mop at the same time!

Declutter your nightstand or vanity area | I really hate clutter, or as my husband calls it, “neat piles”. Clutter around my house makes me feel cluttered inside my head. So every morning, my husband or myself will declutter the night stand. We usually bring our tea and water and Nintendo Switches into the room. It also helps when your night stand/vanity is clear after your bed is made. Your room just got cleaned and you haven’t even left the room yet after waking up!

Put your dishes away once you’re done with them | Leaving dishes in the sink annoys me, especially if it’s just one dish. I’ll use the “soak” excuse once, and after that, it HAS to get cleaned. We use the dishwasher (gasp!) Asians using the dishwasher?! Yes, well, it saves you time and money and uses less water! It’s so easy to rinse your dish off and put it away. This minimizes clutter in the kitchen, which is our most used room in the house. Another “no clutter” rule in the house!

Wash your face and brush your teeth | It honestly surprises me how many people don’t brush their teeth unless they’re leaving the house, and that’s quite… meh, disgusting. I’m not even going to sugar coat it. Brush ya’ damn teeth. And washing your face even with a gentle cleanser and applying a moisturizer (& spf!) will help you feel like you’ve gotten ready for your day.

Take a walk after dinner | I’m not going to lie and say I work out anymore, because I rarely do. I’m so busy taking care of my house and my baby, that the only work out I get is my 1.5 mile walk with my boys after dinner. It’s just a nice way to wind down after a long day of decluttering! You get your body moving, calmed, and ready for bed this way! :D

Why children are more resilient than their parents

I’d be lying if I said I was doing better than my son right now, especially with all that’s been going on. To catch everyone up, my son has been admitted to the hospital twice now this year with severe neutropenia. (Neutropenia is an abnormally low count of the white blood cell neutrophils, that fight infection). It seems like the longest we’ve gone between ER/Urgent Care visits is 2.5 weeks. This all started in December on our trip back to Washington, and the fun hasn’t stopped yet.

Even though he has been the one receiving the treatment, it seems like I’m the one that’s super stressed about it. Even though I have taken care of sick kids before as a nurse, it’s definitely different when it’s your child. Maverick on the other hand is happy he gets chicken nuggets, doesn’t go to daycare, and gets to spend the day with mommy and daddy. I also think he likes that he gets dessert with literally every meal (okay, my kid LOVES jello and whipped cream apparently).

Kids are so resilient. Whatever is happening to them, it’s just in that moment. They don’t foresee the future yet and the long treatment plan ahead. When a provider says “I’m done”, it really means they’re done… until next time. Seeing my kid’s resiliency makes me want to be more of a fighter myself. Not just for me, but for him. If he can get through it, why can’t I? I mean, I’m not the one with the needles stabbing me, I’m just the one reassuring that it’ll be okay. So Mav, mommy’s going to fight for you since you’re fighting for all of us.