Huh! I thought I knew EVERYTHING....!??

SOooo I went to the doc. today and was really surprised at some of the things he told me. I've had an overwhelming amount of you email me/commented asking how I was feeling and sharing your own personal stories about how the bebe.business has effected you. Each one of you validated my own struggle in finding my footing. So thank you for sharing with me.

Let me quickly tell you a few things that the doc. said that I found interesting. I asked him if he thought my feelings were post.partum related or a reaction to the Micronor mini.pill I was taking. He said that it could be a combination of both- but most likely a strong reaction to the medication.

Here is some food for thought:
-all hormones are synthetic in origin. The reason so many bc pills are on the market is because what works for me, most likely won't work for you. The synthetic option that suits me, probably won't suit you. Huh!

-one reason I had such a strong reaction from this pill could be because I took the pill form. I had to INGEST it. The medicine in the pill (any medicinal pill) must be 'more drug' than my body needs because it has to pass through my stomach... then be metabolized by my liver. The remaining portion of the drug must be the perfect level that I need after my stomach and liver did it's thing.

-my stomach or liver may metabolize and process this medicine faster/slower/more efficient/less efficient than it should... thus yielding the crazy side effects and either too much, or too little of the drug itself. HUH!

-an example that I found EXTREMELY interesting was this: my doc. told me that one guy could take a handful of Lortab and still be screaming in pain... while another guy could take one extra.strength Tylenol and be out for 4 hours. Same age, height, weight. How could this be? His guess is that it depends on our genetics and environmental factors. He extended the example by saying: One lady smokes 3 packs a day for 40 years and lives til she's 80. Another doesn't smoke a day in her life, lives by a refinery plant and dies of lung cancer at 42. How could that be? GENETICS and ENVIRONMENTAL FACTORS.

***All of this to say that medicine- even though it can be our saving grace in many many many cases, is still not a perfect science. Our bodies are unique... and an 'average' drug at an 'average' dose may not suit our individual need. Then again, it could be the perfect fit.

So my lesson learned is this:
I am the one in charge of this body. For me to be able to function the way I need to... to maximize my own genetics, I must contribute in a healthy way all that I can. I shouldn't 'over.use' medicine... I should only use what I need, when I need it. I need to be aware after I've taken something that my body is processing that drug. How is it working? How am I feeling? I need to read and understand ALL side effect of a drup BEFORE taking the medication just in case I need to stop taking it!

*Duh, Lindsey.

Hey, we live and we learn.

So I think I've found a bc option that will work for me. I'm tempted to discuss it here, bc so many of you have emailed asking about my decision. And I don't know many of my peers that have explored this option... So it could be really informative. We'll see.

So things are good. I feel a lot better. ;)

In other news:
Jackson is laughing now. Big gut laughs. So funny. Yellow is his color. And blue... and red. His head smells like heaven. Warm heaven.
James has only dropped him twice on his head and has only stuck his dirty foot into his mouth once. :/ Jax is still mooney.eyed for his big brother. I'm hoping Jackson's affections for his hap.hazard.big.bro point less to a low IQ, and more to strong family connections. ;) James is still bitter than he can't nurse Jackson, too. He feels like I'm really holding out on him.

James can read a lot (A LOT) of sight words... can spell a handful on his own... and has incredible handwriting for a three year old. All his letters, and numbers up to thirty something... He's ***this****close*** to spelling words phonetically. We will need a crash.cart available for the day he brings me his drawing with words spelled out phonetically. It was late the other night and he wanted me to tell him a story (or five). I rocked the first two.... like any English teacher would. But the last one, well, there were some major flaws in the plot. And as sure as I'm sitting here typing in my spit.up stained, white robe, James stopped me- stuttering and said,"bu bu but... BUT momma!? Where is the conflict?" ---Okay---- What!? No, Seriously. Whaaat!? I almost fell over. He said, "You know. Something bad needs to happen. So it can be fixed." You.got.to.be.kidding.me! Geeze that kid. *But the same kid was sitting next to me on the couch and pulled a booger out of his nose. Looked at it. And said, 'what's this?' I told him it was a booger. I told him to go put it into a tissue and throw it away. He promptly stuck it back into his nose and said, "NO! It lives in my nose. And everything needs a home." Ah, he's got my bleeding heart. You can't argue with that. In hindsight, I could have told him that the trash can was it's home... but I hadn't gotten to my second cup of coffee that morning. So I just left well enough alone. ;)

Thanks for all the well wishes and encouragement. I swear yall's feedback amount to a lot of back.bone... and any woman who gathers her courage up enough to become a mother needs a lot of backbone! So thanks for making sure I have my fair share. ;)

Peace, love, and guts.
xo
lmkw