Hannah's Heartstrings

I've always been critical of my body. I'm incredibly self-conscious too, which leads to great social anxiety. I worry way too much about what other people think, and rarely have a good opinion about myself.

So when I made a human with this body of mine, I decided to try something new.

I was devastated when I hopped on the scale for the first time about a month after I'd pushed that new little person out into the world. I had banned scales from my life for a long time but since none of my clothes fit and my belly wasn't going anywhere, I decided to see what had become of myself.

Shock. Horror. Sakes alive, what on earth have I done?

Oh sure, it was all fun and games when I was pregnant and enthralled with my growing waistline. I thought it was laughable when my pants were too small. Hey, I was pregnant! Bring on the french fries! Its all baby anyways...right??

I wasn't laughing anymore when I was left with only maternity clothes to wear and a saggy belly with no muscle tone whatsoever that made me look about five months pregnant long after birth.

But I kept telling myself, "Its ok...remember you just made a person with this body! Love it! Embrace it! BODY POSITIVITY!!" This is, after all, what the world shouts at women like me on a daily basis.

So I bought some bigger clothes and went about my postpartum recovery like no big deal. Maybe this is my new normal, I thought. Maybe I just have to learn to love the fact that I am easily 50+ pounds heavier than I would like to be. Maybe I just have to get used to my knees hurting and wearing plus size clothing. Curves are beautiful too, right?

So I tried out this way of thinking for a few months, all the while cursing everything I'd ever been told about how your baby weight just falls off when you breastfeed (worst lie ever).

I tried.

I tried being content with my new body, loving it regardless of what size it was. I tried giving myself a break and justifying my choices by blaming it on the little one sleeping in my arms. I tried moving on and being happy with myself.

But it didn't work.

This time, being "body positive" failed me.

I saw a picture of myself playing with my son, and I nearly cried. There I was, smiling, joyful, and yet I hardly recognized myself. This was not ok with me.

I finally faced myself and was honest. This is not who I am. I am better than this. I am not a lazy, complacent, overweight girl trying desperately to convince myself that I am ok. I do not give up like this. I have not worked so hard to fix my health in other areas only to be slovenly and ignorant in this one. Where is the inspired girl I once was? I am better than this. I can do better than this. I can be better than this.

I know that my happiness is not defined by the size pants I wear. I get that. I know that my body has done something incredible and therefore deserves a little grace. I agree. But the complacency of being "body positive" without positively working to improve my body did nothing but riddle me with guilt and self-loathing.

Because where does it stop? What happens if I have another baby, and gain more weight with that pregnancy? Do I just keep gaining and gaining till I'm three or four hundred pounds? All in the name of being body positive?

I don't want be the mom that avoids getting her picture taken, or when she does, later grits her teeth at the sight of it and can't even appreciate the sweet moment with her baby because she's too overwhelmed by what she sees in herself there. I want to be able to run and play with my boy, to get down on the floor and build Lego cities with him without my saggy belly getting in the way, and simply to feel good about myself again.

Preaching body positivity without positive improvement of one's body is nothing but a cop out. It may be a great way to get around the guilt of being overweight and unhealthy, but it is far from positive. If we want to be positive about our bodies, we need to never stop working to improve them. We must quit using our babies and our pregnancies as excuses to be fat and lazy. It's one thing to love our bodies...it's another thing to throw our hands in the air and say, "Whatever. This is as good as its gonna get!"

If we truly love our bodies, we will get up off of our fat, lazy butts and move. We will eat well, and seek to nourish ourselves rather than just satisfy ourselves. We will recognize that while pregnancy may be exhausting, growing a human is no reason to give up on healthy eating and exercise.

Love may conquer all, but love should never sit idly by and watch the world burn. We can love our bodies without letting them fall apart.

It has been just over a week since I brought this little person into the world. One amazing, nerve wrecking, magical week of learning about each other and figuring out our little trio.

Birth was, by far, the most incredible thing I have ever experienced. I did not know my body was capable of such intense power. To be able to watch my body perform the way it did, and to work with it to bring my baby out was something I honestly can't wait to experience again. And being able to do it all within the comfort of my home, with the most fabulous, loving birth team over, was a dream come true.

It started on Thursday morning at 2am. My water started breaking, though not as I had anticipated. I expected it to come out like a fire hose but instead it was just small gushes. Still, I was thrilled. Kyle got up, we changed the sheets, I texted my midwife Nicole, and attempted to sleep some more.

I had a few small contractions here and there, but nothing significant happened until Friday at around 7 pm. Those hours of waiting for my body to kick in were long, disappointing, and not at all what I expected. I figured it would be like all the stories I'd heard...your water breaks, you go into labor, you have a baby. Bam. Done. But no. My body had other plans. Apparently I needed a full 40+ hours for my hormones to build up enough to set my labor into action. I kept Nicole aware of what was going on, and we were prepared to start having me take some herbs and stuff and set things in motion if something didn't happen soon. Thankfully, those real, purposeful contractions started coming around 7pm on Friday night.

By early Saturday morning, it was very clear that I was in labor. My doula, Kimby, and her helper, Meredith, came over at 7am and we began our day together. Early labor was actually quite fun. We joked and talked around contractions, and Kimby made me feel like I was in a spa. She diffused essential oils, massaged my back and feet, and just made me feel so loved and calm. We did a few different things to help with the baby's position, since she was concerned he might have a hand up. Between that and massaging the labor pressure points on my ankles, but the afternoon, I was kicking into high gear.

I was so thankful to be able to do a lot of laboring in the birthing pool. It was so comforting and really took a lot of pressure off my belly. We did the pool all the way up until I was ready to push. I had hoped to give birth in the pool, but since we knew my baby was large and had a big head, Nicole felt it would be best to birth in a different position.

I was not paying very good attention to the clock, so my remembrance of the time of events is a little sketchy. I think it was about 7ish when Nicole arrived and I was in hard labor. I began to feel like pushing so they brought me out of the tub and onto the couch. She had me lay on my back to give baby enough space to get under my pubic bone. With his big head and my small pelvis, this proved to be rather hard. His progress was very slow and I was getting very tired.

I pushed for nearly three hours. The whole time, Nicole massaged my vaginal opening and perineum  with olive oil, stretching me in preparation for my baby's head to come through. This was a lifesaver. I cannot begin to express how thankful I am that she did this! Also after coming out of the pool, my legs were incredibly sore from kneeling so long and supporting myself during contractions, so the girls massaged me with arnica oil. Oh so amazing!

The pushing got really intense and his head rocked back and forth for quite a while. All of a sudden his heart rate dipped and Nicole told me to stop pushing and just breathe. I was focusing so hard on the pushing that I wasn't getting enough oxygen to him. So they worked hard with me to get me to focus on taking long deep breaths and not be so intense with pushing. That was the hardest part! My body took over several times and pushed completely on its own. But the breathing turned out be just was we needed. His heart rate came back up and we kept going.

Nicole ran outside to get her oxygen tank and to call another midwife to come assist, since it was looking like my baby was stuck and they were going to have to reposition me. His head was so big and taking so long to come down that they were getting concerned. But just then, his head started crowning! Kimby told Meredith to run outside and get Nicole as fast as she could. He was coming out!!

The most incredible thing to me was that I did not even feel him come out. My eyes were closed most of the time due to being quite exhausted. I opened them just at the moment his head came out, and saw the explosion of water hit everyone. They told me to push hard and keep pushing. I gave it every last ounce of energy I had and out he came! The next moment I opened my eyes, Nicole was wrangling my slippery baby up onto my belly.

And so, Titus Howard Fellows was born at 11:40pm on Saturday, February 13, 2016.

He took just a few moments to breathe, so we kept rubbing him and talking to him, and soon he was howling his head off. Those first moments of holding him were utterly miraculous.

He turned out to be a pretty big baby, just like Nicole had predicted. He weighed 9 pounds, 4 ounces, was 22 inches long, and his head (drum roll please) was 15 inches in circumference! But thanks to Nicole's perineal massaging and stretching, I only got one tiny little tear that didn't even warrant a stitch. Yay!

There are a few things I'd like to talk about that I have found truly fascinating concerning my home birth experience.

My birth team was amazing. Seriously. Their support and love throughout the whole ordeal was incomparable. I have never felt more cared for in my whole life. I was not just another patient in a bed. I wasn't just another birth. I was important to them. They poured themselves out into me with their loving touch, encouraging words, and strengthening prayers. I could not have done it without them.

My husband was amazing. My sweet, calm spirited, low key, loving man was such a huge help during the hardest part of my labor. He helped massage me, held my hands through the hardest contractions, and encouraged me through every push. When I was so tired, he told me again and again to open my eyes and smile at him. He kept me grounded.

Nicole saved me from a myriad of medical complications. I will never be able to thank her enough for what she did for me. By helping me work with my body to bring my baby out, I was spared a birthing horror story. Had I gone to a hospital, I would have been subjected to a multitude of medical procedures. Because my labor was so long in coming, a hospital would have induced me. Because he was so big, they would have most likely done a c-section, or at the very least, an episiotomy. If I had by some chance been allowed to birth without any of those things, I would have tore far worse, because no doctor or nurse would have taken the time to massage and stretch me like Nicole did.
Don't get me wrong...I am glad that the medical community is there for emergencies, and if something had taken a turn for the worst, Nicole would not have hesitated to get me to the nearest hospital. But working with Nicole allowed me to treat my birth as the most natural experience of my life and to bring my baby calmly and lovingly into this world.

Diet and water intake are really important. My diet has gone through many changes over the years, but it has always remained the healthiest possible. I was vegan through the first half of my pregnancy but after that, felt like I was lacking in nutrients, so I added meat and grains back into my life. I remained sugar free and gluten free, and have been loving it.
As a step to help my seizure issues, I increased my water intake last March and began drinking at least 80-120 ounces of water a day. This made a huge difference in my existing issues, and then when I got pregnant in May, the benefits were phenomenal.
I attribute a great portion of my birthing success to my diet and water intake. Avoiding sugar especially helped, since sugar heightens your pain sensitivities...even fruit in excess can be a problem! A good, healthy, balanced food lifestyle with plenty of good clean water is the best thing you can do do for your body and your baby.


Home birth may not be for everyone, but I praise God every day that I was able to have this beautiful experience! And I could not be more thrilled to have this tiny little person in my arms at last.

I recently ready this article, and it hit home for me in a unique way. Perhaps not like the author intended, but it created thoughts in my little head that I was eager to share.

The author told how she went through various body changes throughout her life, going back and forth from "bombshell skinny" to "mom of five kids fat" and back again. She told of how, when she strived for that skinny body, she wasn't happy. No one in her family was happy. She was obsessed with losing those pounds. But when she stopped worrying about her body, and just lived and ate as she pleased...life was happy and good again.

While I understand the point she was making, my mind buzzed as I noticed how she fell right into a mindset that is gaining popularity by the minute, and damaging lives just as fast.

It doesn't matter what you look like. You are beautiful just the way you are. So stop worrying about your body image and just be happy. Eat what makes you happy. Do what makes you happy. Because being happy is all that matters.

But wait...isn't that true? Don't we want women to be happy in their bodies, no matter what they look like?

Of course.

However...

That isn't the way to go about it.

Striving for that perfect beach body isn't going to make you happy.
Striving to love your curves and rolls despite the media telling you to lose weight isn't going to make you happy.
No physical body image is going to make you happy.
No amount of eating what you love will make you happy.

Skinny. Fat. Somewhere in the middle. It doesn't matter.

What matters, and what will actually make you happy is being healthy.

Our culture is so caught up in physical appearance in both directions that it forgets to pay attention to what's going on inside. The only way your skinny body or your fat body can possibly be truly happy, at peace, and balanced is to maintain a healthy food life. You should not be happy with your body unless you are feeding it what it needs to perform properly!


Being happy in your body can't be about eating whatever you think makes you happy. I know ice cream and pizza makes me happy, but it surely would not make my body happy. Therefore, I haven't touched the stuff in 3-4 years. I feed my body what I know will keep it bright, balanced, and clean. I feed it lots of pure vegetables, fruit, nuts, and beans that have been unaltered by sugar, gluten, or harmful chemicals. I consume spoonfuls of coconut oil that I know will nourish my brain, and sprinkle nutritional yeast on almost everything because its packed with vitamins and minerals. Everything I eat has a purpose in my body, and for that, my body is happy.

There is one other thing that makes my body happy, and it has nothing to do with food or pounds. I am sure many people have found a thousand different ways to achieve levels of happiness. But none shall ever compare to what I have found in my faith in God. I am nothing in life without Him, and regardless of what I do or eat or strive for in life, if it is not to His glory, then it is in vain.

It is my faith in Him that helps me get through every tough day. Every time my body refuses to work properly, despite my best efforts, it is His strength that gets me through and reminds me to never give up. Even when I am so incredibly frustrated over the failings of my body, it is His peace that runs through my soul and says "It's ok. Try again tomorrow."

This, my friends, is what we should be striving for. Not skinny or fat or whatever pleases you, but a healthy, balanced body that is as peace with God.

This is where true happiness comes from.