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Creating a Postpartum Capsule Wardrobe: Let's Talk Skirts

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I'm not being dramatic when I say that sometimes I wake up in the morning and panic because I don't know what to wear. Wednesdays are, often, the worst days for this: I am at the end of my (yes, very short) work week, I often need to do laundry, and I am muddling through work commitments and stresses that have to be cleaned up by 12pm. Even worse, my entire family is getting photos taken this summer, which means I have to look presentable one day in the horizon and that thought alone is enough to make me want to cry. 

So let's talk about this capsule wardrobe thing. Right now, I rotate through two pairs of jeans, a pair of leggings, and maybe 2 dresses if I feel fancy (both of these dresses are maternity); I pair everything with either my sweatshirt (cool), a sweater (usually a gray wool sweater I got from Stitchfix), or a t-shirt and cardigan. Sometimes, I just wear a t-shirt. I'm committed to a capsule wardrobe, but apart from thinking about it a lot and pinning a lot of stuff on Pinterest... I haven't actually bought a single thing,. 

I've thought about buying things! Really! And then I talk myself out of it. Here's my dilemma: A $40 top costs about the same as a box of formula which will last about 10 days. An $80 dress costs the same as Forrest's diaper shipment each month. I get nervous at the thought of spending money. We aren't exactly in poverty these days, but having a baby certainly makes me stress over each and every cent I spend. And what if I end up not loving the new things I've bought? As much as I hate my wardrobe right now (and hate how it makes me feel and look), I don't want to waste money I could have spent on other things--things that would look cute on Forrest, or food to feed Forrest, or whatever. 

That's my dilemma right now: to buy or not to buy, that is the question. Especially with our sudden expenses lately (a busted outdoor faucet and a busted washing machine), I feel bad spending money on myself. I guess that's the struggle, huh? 

I've been thinking a lot about skirts lately.

Mainly, circle skirts (or A-line skirts, as some people call them). After a lot of thought, I've come to the conclusion that circle skirts are probably the best skirt for me. They're voluminous, which means they camouflage ye olde mom belly; they're high-waisted (if worn that way), which means they make me look taller; they show off a part of me that has stayed thin (ankles, ah yeah); and they can be worn with a variety of tops,, which means I can dress them up or down. 

Yes, all of these skirts are from ModCloth. ModCloth holds a special place in my heart, because I want to be one of those cool, quirky girls (cue Zooey Deschanel reference, ugh) who can wear retro-inspired clothing 100% of the time and look fabulous. But alas, a) I'm not skinny enough or b) I don't have the personality to pull it off. That being said, sometimes ModCloth stuff is totally bonkers, like this basic jersey maxi skirt for thirty-five freaking dollars!! I want to personally call every person who bought one (there's one left in stock!!) and be like, "you know you can buy this same exact skirt at Rue21 for, like, $10, right?" 

That being said, ModCloth is the queen of circle skirts. If you're looking for a knee length skirt in any color, trust me, ModCloth probably has it. Downside, it probably costs like $40 or more. C'est la vie! 

All of the options I'm lusting over have a note of neutrality to them (yes, even the florals, I would argue): they can be paired with a variety of colors and patterns, as well as other textures. I'm especially feeling the Mentor of Attention skirt and the Intern of Fate in Latte skirt, because I think they capture the shape I'm looking for as well as being neutral without being plain black. 

I'm keeping my eyes peeled for affordable circle skirt options as I go about my day-to-day life, but if you spot one, send it to me on Twitter! As always, you can follow my capsule wardrobe and style efforts on Pinterest. 

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What I'm Reading: April 2016

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Ages and ages ago, I used to do weekly link round ups of what I've been reading and enjoying on the internet. I think it's time for this practice to return--especially as I spend more and more time curating content for my personal life and my professional life. Here's what's been on my (internet) plate lately! 

Got any good links or great reads for me? Share on Twitter! 

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Moving On from Pumping

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Feeding Forrest ended up being more complicated than I ever thought it would be. In the past 6 months, Forrest has eaten over 5,000 ounces of milk. I have pumped approximately 3,100 ounces. I have pumped for a total of at least 400 hours.

I have washed bottles until the backs of hands are so dry I can't use hand sanitizer or scented lotions, until my knuckles crack and my nails split.

I have sanitized bottles two or three times a day for 6 months. I have gone through 4 bottles of dish soap.

I have read hundreds of articles on how the movement to normalize breastfeeding is both a positive and a negative. I have used the hashtag #fedisbest and been told, repeatedly, that fed is not best by the worst of the breastfeeding advocates.

I have cried more times than I care to admit. I've given up on dreams of nursing, on dreams of exclusively feeding breast milk. I have given up a lot of my expectations and accepted the reality of the baby I have. 

I have pumped until one of my nipples was bruised and the other was bleeding. I have pumped through thrust, mastitis, clogs. I have pumped through an infected Montgomery gland. I have worn terrible, ill-fitting nursing bras for 6 months--even though I don't even nurse. 

I have toted a heavy, stupid pump back and forth to work for three months. 

I have taken supplements that upset my stomach, that taste like actual vomit. I have tried every trick in the book, from massage to cheesecake and everything in between. I have spent an embarrassing amount of money on different shields and supplements and tools. 

I have gone without sleep to pump. I have mentally calculated, over and over, the amount of milk I have in my fridge and freezer. I have stressed over how much to feed Forrest. I have woken at 3am to pump; I've interrupted meetings and doctors appointments and oil changes. I have pumped in my car, in offices, on the floor, in the bathroom. I have pumped in a weigh station on the side of US 20 headed into Ontario. 

I have pumped and pumped and pumped. 

And it's over. It's done. (Well, not totally.) 

The truth is, the Montgomery gland is part of what did me in. I can handle a lot of things--but I can't handle an infected Montgomery gland. (Did you know there was such a thing? I didn't--until one got infected. It's worse than a clogged duct or a dreaded milk bleb, at least in my opinion.) The infected Montgomery gland, the repeated dips in my supply every time my body was under any stress, the constant worrying, the constant need to pump... it was too much. 

I decided to wean one day and I just started--before I could talk myself out of it. Not that I'm really weaning anything. "Weaning," typically, suggests transitioning a baby away from nursing, but that's not the case. Forrest will just, one day, get all formula, instead of half. One day, it will just be gone. No more breast milk! Just typing it makes me sad. 

But the sadness I feel doesn't really overwhelm the feeling of being completely and totally done. The hardest part is knowing that, if things had been different, if Forrest has nursed from the start (if I hadn't gotten preeclampsia, if my milk had come in on time instead of days later, if he hadn't have had jaundice...), this wouldn't be happening. Looking at the "what ifs" and moving on from them is still something I struggle with. 

Watching the amount I pump each day (even though I'm doing it on purpose) is a struggle too: I inherently begin to panic when I think, I won't have enough milk... But that's the point. I won't have enough milk for Forrest--and it's okay. But I have to remind myself that it's okay, or else I'll panic. 

When I look at Forrest, I want to apologize to him: I'm sorry I couldn't give you more of this. I'm sorry we didn't get those quiet, special moments to bond. I'm sorry I'll never know what that's like. I'm sorry I couldn't keep going. I'm sorry. I will always try to give you everything in the world, anything and everything you want--because I couldn't give you this. 

There is a tendency, I think, for mothers to feel they have to martyr themselves. Most mothers (and maybe this is a generalization on my part) would lie down their lives for their children. In many ways, for the last 6 months, I have attempted to martyr myself: I keep pumping, through pain and unhappiness and anxiety and depression, for the simple fact that I felt guilty about it. I felt like I was a bad mother for all the things I couldn't change (the preeclampsia, the jaundice, the rough start)--so I would do the absolute best at the one thing I could do, breast milk. But my body fought me every step of the way. 

At a certain point, I had to accept the truth: I couldn't fight my body, and punish myself, anymore. It was time to move on from being mommy martyr and just be a mom. 

Packing up the little bottles, the tiny colostrum bottles I first pumped into, the SNS I dutifully taped to my boob every night in the hospital, the little Similac bottles we gave Forrest his first 20 ml bottles with, was one of the hardest parts. But I did it: I bagged them up and put them in a box. In a week, I'll probably pack my pump back into the box and store it in the garage.  I will defrost all of the milk I have in my freezer. 

One day, very soon, Forrest will get his last bottle containing any breast milk. There is a part of me that thinks, we can reverse this! We can pump frantically again! But I know it's not worth it, emotionally, for me anymore, as much as it hurts to think of Forrest not getting anymore milk from me. One day, it will just be gone, over, done. And we'll just have to keep going, like we have the last six months.

And the best part is, one day, this won't even matter. One day it won't hurt to think of the "what ifs", the "I could have..." One day, this will just be a memory and I won't have to feel guilt over it anymore. 

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Creating a Postpartum Capsule Wardrobe: Restocking Dresses

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Remember when I used to wear dresses all the time? Literally every day? The last time I put on a dress, I cried because it was the maxi maternity dress I'd worn multiple days in a row as my pregnancy neared its end. Yeah, dresses aren't exactly as easy topic for me anymore--especially because all my dresses are way, way too small in the chest these days. 

That means, I have 5 dresses (3 maternity, 2 throw aways ultimately) in my closet right now, none of which make me feel good, but all of which "fit". I'm between a rock and a hard place, but I know with the right dresses, I'll be feeling fine in now time... right? 

When it comes to creating a capsule, I want to follow the rule of simple pieces, with lots of opportunity to remix. Two years ago, I wore a black shirt dress nearly every day (until I washed it, the shirt shrank weird, and it became super unflattering); I loved how it fit, I loved how I could pair it with different scarves, sweaters, and shoes for totally different looks. My dress choices are based off my love for that dress (which I wish I had a good picture of). Here they are: 

Embroidered Back Chambray Shirtdress, Maurices. Women's Classic Denim Shirtdress, Le3no. Women's Shirtdress, Land's End.

Embroidered Back Chambray Shirtdress, Maurices. Women's Classic Denim Shirtdress, Le3no. Women's Shirtdress, Land's End.

1. A Chambray Dress

I like chambray. I like shirt dresses. Plus, denim or chambray is much less likely to misshape in the wash than, say, a polyester blend. Here are three options I found via Pinterest. I especially like the Land's End version (the styling, obviously, makes it super appealing, because the length is great, the fabric is probably higher quality than Maurices, and it has a real belt... rather than an elasticized waist. Besides being durable, chambray is also something you can mix and match with: wear skirts over it, pair with scarves and cardigans, layer with sweaters over or long-sleeved shirts under... the options are endless. 

Perfectly Posh Black Long Sleeve Dress, Lulu's. Long Sleeve Button Front Shirt, Nordstrom Rack.

Perfectly Posh Black Long Sleeve Dress, Lulu's. Long Sleeve Button Front Shirt, Nordstrom Rack.

2. A Long Sleeve Black Dress

Have you ever googled "black long sleeve workwear dress" before? Word to the wise: don't, it's very depressing. Why is it so hard to find age-appropriate black dresses? Who knew this was so needed? The most worn color in the world in the most desired style in the world... really? The options are so depressing. If you can believe it, these are the best of the best... and there are 2 of them. I for sure won't be buying either of these dresses, but these 2 shapes are classics that I like to wear. That being said, the Lulu's dress is obviously way too short, probably poorly made (it's Lulu's, c'mon), and probably wouldn't fit correctly to my postpartum body. The Nordstrom Rack dress is... shapeless. That being said, I'm ultimately looking for the simplicity of the Lulu's dress, the quality of the Nordstrom Rack dress, and long sleeves. What's a girl gotta do to find a long sleeve black dress? 

Meadows on My Mind Dress, Modcloth. Folksy Focus Dress, Modcloth. Folksy the Sights Dress, Modcloth.

Meadows on My Mind Dress, Modcloth. Folksy Focus Dress, Modcloth. Folksy the Sights Dress, Modcloth.

3. A Fun Patterned Sundress 

You say "sundress" and Modcloth whispers, "I thought you'd never ask!" Sundresses are where Modcloth excels, because they seem to have an "in" on amazing, fun patterns. A uniquely patterned sundress might seem like the ultimately one-wear items, but I think you'd be wrong, actually: with the right pattern, you can wear it with a variety of cardigans, solid scarves (in the early Fall or late Spring), and fun Summer hats. Plus, it's nice to have one pretty, perhaps impractical thing... even in a capsule wardrobe. 

I'm still on the hunt for the perfect pieces for my capsule wardrobe, but as I narrow things down, I'm always up for suggestions, advice, or the perfect pieces you might find online. Share with me on Twitter!

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Creating a Postpartum Capsule Wardrobe

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Whenever I find myself talking about my postpartum body and style, I find myself getting (reasonably) dramatic. "I am a blimp," I have found myself saying to my husband. "I am a planet with a gravitational pull!" I cry to my mom group on Facebook. What is wrong with me? I think privately. Why can't I just diet? 

It's the question the world seems to pose to pregnant women. When you're pregnant, no matter how big or small you are, the world loves your body: you have another human you're taking care of! Eat the ice cream, the Oreos, the Taco Bell! However, it doesn't take long after birth to realize the cold, hard truth: you are now expected to just go back to normal, as if nothing spectacular happened to your body at all. 

I remember the empty feeling immediately after I had Forrest. And in the six days I spent in the hospital, I found myself feeling like a shell, merely a vehicle for this baby. I felt like the nurses treated me like I was nothing more than a delivery service, my needs and wants were secondary, and I was merely a food source, a fleshy cafeteria. 

This feeling is perpetuated at every turn: your baby is your number 1 priority, but it's also everyone else's. No one wanted to know about how foreign I felt in my own body, about how I ached, about how lonely and sad I felt. No one wants to hear about how I struggle to diet now (because, being an exclusive pumper, I know exactly what my supply is... and when I diet, I can see it shrink, the ounces diminishing); no one wants to hear about how tired I am, too tired to exercise. They just want me to do it and/or stop complaining about my body. 

I used to think that way. Really, I did! I thought new moms were lazy. How can you not have time to exercise? I thought, 22 and not a mom. How can you not focus on what you eat? I was a bitch, that's for sure. I'm eating my words now. 

Over the weekend, I decided enough was enough: I was tired of making myself feel bad and I was tired of standing in front of a bulging closet and knowing that nothing fit. I took out every single item that no longer fit and put it in a bag. Part of it made me sad: I find it difficult to say goodbye to things I love, but can no longer wear. That being said, I've decided if it makes me feel bad, I'm not going to deal with it. 

I now have the saddest collection of items in my closet imaginable: four dresses (two maternity maxis); 2 pairs of jeans; 3 pairs of leggings; a smattering of topics (mostly maternity tunics); and sweaters, some of which are a touch too small, but fine for now. 

I decided the thing to do would be to create a capsule wardrobe. 

If I'm going to be starting from scratch, I should probably start from scratch the right way. I still have lots of stuff to clean out (I have drawers full of t-shirts I will never wear), but it's never too early to get started. 

My plan is to invest in pieces to make my body look great now--and rotate them out as I lose weight. As I'm working on my capsule wardrobe, I'll be sharing what I decide to keep and what I decide to buy here. If you'd like to see what I'm pinning along the way, you can follow my Capsule Wardrobe board on Pinterest. 

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All The Things I Wish I'd Known

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I wish I'd known how tiring it would be to have a child. Not how hard--I knew raising a child, and taking care of a baby, would be hard work. I knew I would dedicate hours every day to doing things I didn't necessarily want to do. But I wish I'd known how absolutely overwhelmingly exhausted I would become: the kind of exhausted that a good nap or a good nights sleep won't cure. I wish I'd known that my days would start at roughly 4:30am and I would not stop, with a break for myself, until I fell asleep at 9pm that night. 

I wish I'd known that my hobbies would cease to be hobbies, but rather activities that I fondly remembered. I wish I'd known I would have to ask for help, for time for myself. I wish I knew how to ask for it without getting angry. 

I wish I'd known the right things to research. While I scrutinized mattresses and the amount of diapers I would need, I should have read about breast pumps, breastfeeding holds, and nursing pillows. I should have understood how to breastfeed better and maybe I would have been more successful. I wish I'd known that it's not as easy as it seems: there is more than just putting the baby to your chest. I wish I'd known it was ok to not succeed that this particular endeavor, that there are other (just as good) ways to feed a baby. I wish I'd known how to stand up for myself in the hospital better. 

I wish I'd known how all-encompassing a tiny person would be. In my long days of pregnancy, I imagined nap times and nights in the crib. I imagined a world that was completely different from how things ended up. I wish I'd known to stop planning, to stop having expectations for what would happen, what would come next. I wish I'd known that, regardless of where the baby sleeps, my work would never really stop. 

I wish I'd known, earlier rather than later, that no matter what happens, no matter what amount of planning goes in to having a baby, things will always change. The baby will or won't sleep; the baby will or won't eat the way you want them to; the baby will or won't follow the "guidelines" for development. I wish I'd known that babies change their schedules as rapidly and suddenly as everyone else on the planet: they are criminals of spontaneity, making you think one thing and then doing another. I wish I'd known to throw the plans, everything I ever thought about having a baby, out the window. 

Mostly, I wish I'd known to savor more: to stop crying about breastfeeding in those early weeks and, instead, cuddle with my little baby who is now not nearly as little; to let myself co-sleep from the beginning without worrying; and to stop worrying about every little possibility and just allow myself to enjoy the time I had. 

I wish I'd known that being Forrest's mom would be the most challenging, rewarding, demanding, and exhausting thing I've ever experienced--but I wouldn't change it for the world. 

A Few More Things My Baby & I Can't Live Without

I've written previously about some newborn essentials that made my life easier in the first few weeks of Forrest life. As babies grow, they basically change their minds every single day about what is going to work for them. It's probably because they are physically changing into new and different tiny humans each and every day, rapidly learning new skills, making connections, and absorbing the world around them. So that thing that helped your baby sleep for the first four weeks of their life (our trusty Rock'n'Play) suddenly becomes the enemy overnight (curses!). 

I thought I'd share a few items that are rocking our world lately. 

1. the Love to Dream Swaddle UP 50/50 

Full disclosure, we haven't had this swaddle too long--but on its first day in use, it totally changed our lives. Forrest slept through several naps on his own. I have held him for every single nap since he was about 4 weeks old. Yeah. It's a big deal. For $25, I will pay for the chance to pump, wash bottles, and eat a snack without juggling a sleeping baby. 

2. The O-Ball

I have a bunch of vaguely "rattle-like" objects for Forrest, but a lot of them are heavy and, for little hands that are just learning to grip and otherwise weak, just kinda too smooth. The O-Ball is great because: it rattles; it's brightly colored; and it's a soft, flexible, lightweight plastic that is super easy to grab. Forrest loves it. 

3. The Fisher-Price Sit-Me-Up 

A few weeks ago, a woman in my due date group on Facebook shared this toy--and immediately, everyone in the group ordered one. I mean, easily 80 women ordered this toy. And about 85% of us love it. Forrest digs sitting in it. It makes it easy for him to play with toys, work on his ab muscles, work on grabbing stuff, and observe me folding laundry. Plus, the toys from his playmat also fit on the toy loops, so I can switch out toys depending on what he's into! 

4. UpSpring Baby Milkflow

I've written pretty extensively about my hatred of exclusive pumping--one of the most difficult parts of it is, honestly, the fact that my supply dips at the slightest change in my diet or routine. Whether it's drinking too much soda, not enough water, too many carbs, whatever. A friend recommended this supplement alongside my other supplements (lactation cookies, 100oz of water a day, Mother's Milk tea) and, I have to say, it works amazingly well. It tastes absolutely terrible, so I mix it into orange juice or Naked juice and it's not so bad. 

5. Pumpin' Pals Pump Flanges 

The flanges that come with the typical Medela pump are, frankly, way too small for most people and uncomfortable. These flanges are lifesavers. Firstly, they come with a guarantee that if you don't pump more milk per session, they will refund your purchase. That' awesome. Secondly, they are designed with a rounded edge to prevent the cup from cutting into your skin. And third, they are designed with a downward slope, which means that when you pump, you don't have to lean forward or sit straight up. Which, again, if you pump a lot, makes a huge difference in your life. They are absolutely worth the money. 

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The Many Steps to Dressing a Postpartum Body

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1. Avoid looking in full-length mirrors. Or the bathroom mirror. And definitely not when you get your rare shower. 

2. Diligently fold all your maternity clothes up and put them in a box. Two weeks later, find that box, unearth the maternity leggings in it, and sigh. 

3. Go shopping for a new pair of jeans. Cry. 

4. Wonder how new jeans can somehow emphasize the mound of jello that has mysteriously replaced your belly. 

5. Pull on jeans while saying things like, "That's it, no more pizza!" and "I'm gonna snack on carrots from now on!" 

6. Yell about your bra size. Just get in someone's face and yell about it. Yell about how none of your dresses fit on top, none of your shirts button, your formerly light and flowy tops have been reduced to ill-fitting boob drapes, your sweaters look funny. 

7. Wrap yourself in sweats and flannel shirts and whisper, "I will never wear real clothes again. I am the mom, one with the yoga pant, so forgiving." 

8. Vow to eat healthier. Immediately think about the jar of lactation cookies that you need, seriously. 

9. Make yourself cry by trying on your old jeans. 

10. Be comforted by the fact that your workout clothes still fit. 

11. Declare your lazy days of postpartum bliss over and start working on. Attempt a 21-day no junk food rule. 

12. Eat junk food after a mere 3 days. 

13. Google at least 3x: "how many calories does breastfeeding burn really?" 

14. Wonder how many moms actually lose tons of weight exclusively breastfeeding. Upon asking mom group, find out it's basically the unicorn of postpartum life. 

15. Thanks, doctors, for making us all believe in unicorns. 

16. Vow to do a big closet clean out and repurchase stuff to make you feel better. Vaguely wonder just where you'll find the money to do such a thing. Push those feelings aside. 

17. Put your trusty leggings back on. They look pretty ok, anyway, and the baby never judges you.