What's your passion?

Some passions are innate to us.

I have had a passion for theater for as long as I can remember. I love the art of performing. But I also love educating through theater. I feel confident in my ability to use theater as a tool to both educate and engage students while enriching their lives.  I believe in theater – its’ ability to transform a community, its’ power to enlighten and redefine. I believe my passion for the art form is apparent in my work. I strive in my teaching to foster an appreciation, understanding, and dialogue for the art. The use of applied theater for social change excites me. Yes, theater is a passion of mine.

But, some passions are birthed through experience. I use the word "birthed" quite intentionally because in the last three years childbirth has transformed my life.

Birth is a journey. It is a life changing, transformative experience no matter what "route" one takes. I know this to be true because my birth experiences could not be more different from each other. Each changed my life completely in their own way.

Before Blake was born I had strong opinions about how I wanted my birth to go. I researched and then researched some more. I read books by Ina May and Dr. Sears on natural childbirth. I watched birth videos, hired a doula, watched "The Business of Being Born" (which I highly recommend for anyone who hasn't seen it! It's amazing!), and planned meticulously for the labor I desired. Below is a section from my birth plan with Blake to illustrate the birth we had planned for:

Thank you very much for all you’ve done for us so far and for what you will do in the immediate future!  We are excited for today and very much looking forward to this experience.  We are confident in and grateful for your expert care as we all usher this child into the world.

Because this is such an important event to us, we have put some thought into our goals and priorities, which you will find below.

Goals:  To have a healthy child and a safe delivery for Chelsea, free from all medications unless medically necessary, and with no restricted movements for Chelsea.

To that end, we would like to avoid:

·         All medications, unless the health of the baby or Chelsea necessitates it

·         Artificial induction or augmentation of labor (amniotomy, petocin, etc.)

·         Episiotomy, unless to manage a specific risk

·         Routine IV

·         Continuous fetal heart monitoring

·         Routine exams, unless necessary

·         Forceps, vacuums, etc.

After the baby is born, we would like to be able to establish an immediate bond with it.  We would request that:

·         We breastfeed immediately after birth

·         Bryan cut the cord after the placenta is delivered and the cord stops pulsing

·         Bathing, measurements, testing occurs in the labor and delivery room after the first breastfeeding

·         To be able to room-in, e.g. the baby doesn’t go to the nursery unless necessary

We understand that the above is an ideal scenario and there may be complications that necessitate medical intervention.  We are confident that you will be working in our best interests and we will of course trust your judgment if anything unexpected arises.

This was the birth experience we desired...what we ended up with was ENTIRELY the opposite. After arriving at the hospital I immediately knew that this was NOT the place I wanted to be for the birth that I, personally, desired. I was so confident that I could achieve a natural birth, free from any interventions, in any setting...my naivety did not serve me well. I could write a novel on what happened in the 28 hours that followed (maybe one day I will) but as the doctor came into my room, for yet the 4th time, to tell me they would not allowed me to labor any longer I felt my spirit crush. I felt defeated. And when they wheeled me into the O.R., what had started months before as a "strong opinion" about how I wanted my birth to go, ignited into a passion. My next birth would be different.

And was it ever!! I chose a midwife for my birth with Beckett, one that, in my research, was well known for her success with VBAC patients. I, once again, hired a doula. I found the only hospital in DFW with birthing tubs in the rooms for patients of the midwife practice. Harris Methodist renewed my faith in hospitals. My experience with Beckett healed the scars caused from the snide remarks, eye rolls, and general disrespect for my journey. I love the nurses at Harris more than I can say. When I went to tour prior to the birth they were so accommodating and answered each of the thousand and one questions (poor thing probably felt like she was getting grilled...which she was.)

When Bryan and I arrived at Harris, on the eve of Beckett's birth, after laboring for 10 hours at home I could not have felt more relieved that this was the place we had chosen for our son to be born.

The nurse first said, "Oh, I see you are with the midwives group. Would you like a suite with a birthing tub?"

Me, "pant, pant, Yes, please. pant, pant."

After arriving in the room the nurse continued to offer choices that I had not been offered in my previous experience: Would I like to labor in my own clothes? Would I like to be checked then or later by my midwife? Would I like an IV?

She left the room saying, "Well, let us know if you need anything! We're just gonna let you have this baby."

Hallelujah!

My 29.5 hour labor with Beckett could also be written into a novel...though I doubt many would care to read about the nitty gritty details. I'll sum it up in one word: PROFOUND.

All births are transformative. Without Blake's birth experience I would not have experienced the defeat (please know that I use the word "defeat" losely, as it was my plan that was defeated. God had bigger plans for me that day. I truly feel that he knew I needed a reminder that I am not the one in control. I ended that experience with a sweet healthy baby in my arms, and for that I was so blessed!) that ignited the passion I have today. Beckett's birth was the most tangible experience I have ever had with God. I have never relied on Him so fully, or felt His all-consuming, and over-whelming presence as I did that day! GOD is good and He took me on the journey I had prayed so fervently to experience.

My mind has been set upon birth lately. Two friends have recently experienced wonderful VBAC's. Another just gave birth in the comfort of her home (awesomeness!) My sister-in-law is a couple of weeks from having her first baby. That being said I have pulled out my prayer journal from Beckett's birth and reread it probably a dozen times in the last month. A dear friend shared her prayer journal with me and it was more of a blessing than she could ever know! I feel blessed that we, as women, can journey through childbirth together, supporting one another, lifting each other up, directing each other to lean on God through this pivotal moment in our lives. It is no wonder I am passionate about such an amazing thing!

Now I just have to figure out how I can keep myself from craving birth....at least for a little while!

I guess I'll let Bryan figure that one out! ;)

All about fall...

For me...it's all about fall. I feel like I spend the whole year yearning for that perfectly crisp morning - then the moment it arrives I can just smell it - fall is in the air. It smells like wood burning fireplaces, pumpkin spice lattes, and a bowl full of chili for the football game. Ahhhh - fall! In Texas I am kept waiting for fall much longer than I was used to in North Carolina and NYC, but that only makes its eventual arrival all the more sweet. I LOVE fall...wait, did I already make that point? No, seriously, LOVE it. Everything about fall makes me smile: college football (though not Texas football. Sorry folks, I only follow App State.), fall colors, cool air, changing leaves, picking pumpkins....and of course, fall FASHION.

Fall fashion is truly something I adore. On my priority list it ranks right up there under oxygen...well, maybe not quite that high. But, you get the picture. I blame my manager at Ralph Lauren. Marissa was our fashion nazi...particularly in the fall when sales were the highest. The stylists had to arrive each day "ralphed out." This means we needed to look like perfect little Ralph Lauren models - ready to sell our own style to potential clients. We were required to read WWD (Women's Wear Daily), write thank you notes to all 'big' clients, and attend the ever-so-popular trunk show at Bryant Park for fashion week. This was the highlight of my time working there (lining up for wardrobe inspection was not!) For those that do not know, fall fashion week at Bryant Park is HUGE...hallowed ground for those that obsess over designer couture. The delight I had as a stylist was that stylists had dibs on the runway clothes at the sample sale that followed fashion week. Marissa went with me...I think it was because she really wanted to tell me what to buy for work as opposed to vying for my company. I was too perky for her,  a no-nonsense typical New Yorker aiming to climb the corporate ladder. Thankfully, we shared the same classic style and so I was more than happy to accept all the clothing she was shoving into my arms. Budget restraints meant that after fighting through the crowd, trying clothes on in the midst of fifty other women and literally engaging in tug-a-war over a pair of delicious runway wool shorts, I emerged the victorious owner of six runway label items. The fashion bug had bit me...hard. Though, at times it was slightly depressing to be living in a city full of so many goods I could not afford, I managed to save scrupulously for some highly prized items. I did, however, stop short of selling my kidney on the black market for a coveted birken bag. Might need all my vital organs one day...best not to chance it.

Below are some classic pieces I have my eye on for this season (they range greatly in price from H&M to Christian Louboutin) The great thing is that you can easily find similar pieces and styles at very affordable prices.

1. A big tote - perfect to throw everything in and schlep around.

This Goyard bag is perfect and though I typically play it safe with navy or black I think this pumpkin orange color adds a nice punch of color for fall. (Since I can NOT wear orange, accessorizing with it is my only option.)
2. Cashmere cardigan - Simple. Cozy. Classic.

3. Riding boots - A staple for fall. Made even more popular by the ever-so-timeless Kate Middleton.

4. Scarves - Another necessary component to any fall wardrobe. And the BEST thing about scarves - you can find them at any price point. Add them to your outfit for an instantly finished look! Voila!

5. Knee length fall coat. This steal is from H&M - only $60.

6. Shorts with tights/leggings - I think this look is best worn with opaque tights/leggings and either boots or heels (makes the legs look longer.) Wool or tweed shorts add texture and feel especially fall-ish to me! (Fall-ish is that a word? It is now!)

7. Rain boots - Though maybe not needed in TX. But, in NYC... most definitely! I love these classic boots by Hunter.

8. Layered jewelry - more specifically - stacking BRACELETS! I love stacking bracelets...the colder it is outside, the more I wear! John Hardy designs my favorite bracelets. But cheap-o imitations from Target do the trick.

 I could go on but for sake of time, I will call it a night!! Happy almost fall everyone!

What's the cost of freedom?

In the last week it's been hard not to notice the media reports and new outlets gearing up for the 10th anniversary of 9/11.

It's been hard not to notice; yet, it is at the same time difficult to remember and impossible to forget.

A lot can happen in ten years. I look back on the events of that day and remember the flood of emotions that overwhelmed me the moment my teacher Ms. McClinton turned on the TV in my 2nd period Physics class. Glued to the screen I couldn't help but watch as news anchors shrieked, people ran for their lives, and a second tower was hit. Devastation. Complete despair. Buildings that once stood tall as a symbol of America's promise and economic strength dissolved to ashes before our eyes. Most of us remember quite clearly where we were that moment whether high school seniors, like myself, or already in the workforce. I was surprised in reading the Wall Street Journal today that 20% of Americans are either not alive, or not able to remember 9/11. For them this is the norm. To these children the words "9/11" are nothing more than words that sprinkle the vocabulary of grown-ups and and heard on the nightly news. They will never feel the uncertainty, as we did, in the days that followed 9/11, watching the events unfold and our world unravel like the end of a rope that symbolized something that was once precious and good and whole, and became a tangle of threads slipping through our fingers. My daughter won't know what it was like to watch her friends - boys, barely eighteen years, stand up at the lunch table and declare, with courage beyond their years, that they were enlisting to serve their country. I, as well as all those with children who were not alive then, am faced with the enormous challenge and duty of giving weight and importance to this day. I must teach, I must talk, I must represent those who were forever effected or lost on that day.

It was spring of 2006 when I moved to New York City, nearly five years after 9/11. I naively thought the city had moved past the tragedy by then. After all, time heals all wounds, right? But everyone I encountered had a story. Whether they had watched people covered in ashes walking up the avenues from downtown, whether they had lost a loved one, or like one woman I knew, had been burnt on 70% of her body and had nearly died. Sadly, I knew her for nearly a year before I knew her story. She was my client at Ralph Lauren and I honestly thought the only thing she'd been the victim of was a lot of bad plastic surgery. She had had plastic surgery, no doubt. Numerous procedures. All to repair the damage that was done when a pile of burning rubble fell on her as she was running from the building. I was helping her in the dressing room to try on a stunningly beading $6000 gown for one of NYC's many social galas. I noticed how sadly she looked at herself in the mirror. Selfishly, because I was paid on commission, I told her how fabulous she looked in the dress. Though, in truth it showed the many scars she had on the right side of her body. She smiled, "If only you'd seen me before 9/11." Over the next few months her story would come out in bits and pieces and all I could say was, "I'm so sorry." She was one of the lucky ones. She knew that too. No one has a story from that day that is free of sorrow. No one was free of pain. Everyone was touched.

I want my daughter to know that. I want her to know the sacrifice so many paid for the freedom we enjoy as Americans. I want her to know how blessed we truly are.

A lot can happen in ten years. My own life has seen the milestones of completing high school, college, grad school, marriage, and two kids. Ten years feels simultaneously like yesterday and an eternity ago. When I look at ten years in the life of our country so many things strike me. It seems like America has been on a roller coaster, both politically and economically speaking. There have been moments when I felt like I was seeing the silver lining. Moments when our country rose up like the proverbial phoenix from the ashes. Watching the firemen raise the perfect shaped cross, created from the steel beams of the building and forged in the fire; watching politicians trade politics and party lines for the greater good of America's citizens. Then there are the moments of the petty bickering, that so characterizes Washington today. Moments of when America has appeared laughable on the world stage, or worse, overly cocky. A roller coaster. I don't like roller coasters much. I'm ready for the ride to be over.

I want my daughter to know the events of that fateful day, nearly ten years ago. I want her to know the sacrifices made by so many. But I also want her to know the cost.

Lives lost on 9/11:  nearly 3000
Lives in the war on terror: over 6200
Federal Homeland Security spending in the last ten years: $360 billion (not including the state, local, or private sector that spent another $330 billion)
Operations in Iraq and Afghanistan since 9/11: $1.3 trillion

The numbers are staggering. Of course, it is impossible to put a price tag on the emotional cost of the lives lost and this war on terror (regardless of whether or not we agree with the war being waged.) The costs have been high. It it begs me to ask the question: Do we feel safer? Was it worth it?

I don't necessarily have any answers...for now just lingering questions.

What's the cost of freedom?