Jacqui 10/9/17 Jacqui 10/9/17

The Thoughtful Friend: Postpartum

My dear friend Beth recently captured the torrent of emotions that arrive, in tow, with a new baby. I'm sharing it here as part of the Thoughtful Friend series in the hopes that it can shed some light on the loneliness, confusion, and existential mini-crises that come along with being a new parent, and the need for support and community throughout. This post originally appeared on Love as Big as Your Head.

It's 5:40 pm.

Every day since Melby was born, around this time, when the sun starts to dip, so does my heart. I get despondent. I get desperate and teary-eyed.

Nic, if he's home, is usually puttering outdoors at this point in the day, nesting in his own way, by imagining so many beautiful hedges and patios for our backyard. He's laying out pieces of cardboard he's cut to mimic the size of some pavers he found, planning the possible edges of a small sitting area for his newborn family. I watch him through our cracked and dirty windows, wishing I felt something different than I do.

At some juncture, he'll come inside and find me clutching the baby, my eyes brimming with tears.

When he asks me what's wrong, I never know.

I feel lonely, is all I can muster.

It's a loneliness that's not cured by company or physical touch or reassurance. It sits deep in my belly. It makes me ask, what's the meaning of life?

I feel ashamed for thinking something so terribly basic and cliche. I feel ashamed for feeling anything other than abject joy at this amazing person's arrival. But it's all that runs through my head.

Why am I here? What's the point of living? Am i just a mom now? What does it mean to be a mom? What makes me valuable? What ever made me valuable before? Am I enough? What is enough? Will I always feel this way? What's the point? What about tomorrow? When is it enough? Will it ever be enough? What does it feel like to be complete? Am I an awful person for having a baby and still feeling this way? Will she feel it? Will I infect her?

My mind turns to both what is termed "the baby blues" and postpartum anxiety/ depression. Many people warned me about it. It's more common than you think. It's okay to ask for help.

I don't have a problem admitting I need help sometimes. Not with big things like that. I have a hard time asking someone to bring over some tacos because I'm hungry or to drive me to the airport, but when it comes to addressing my mental health, I think I'm pretty responsive to my own needs.

But this doesn't feel like that.

I don't know if that's true obviously. I've had zero babies before. I don't know what the aftermath feels like. Maybe this is postpartum something to a tee.

But this, this feels old. It feels ancient. It feels like something that's been buried in my bones since I was a child. It feels like something I've spent a lifetime trying to distract myself from.

I have always worked hard. I graduated college in 3 years and worked nearly full time concurrently. I have always had many jobs, long hours. I've kept myself impossibly busy for a very long time. Being busy has kept me just distracted enough to skate across the surface of these deeply rooted questions of meaning and self-worth.

And then Melby arrived. My beautiful, soft, screeching, cuddly, tender blowout of a girl. I love her. Don't think for a single second that any of these words compromise that total love for her.

But with her came a cavern. A huge, empty expanse.

I asked for it. I asked for the stillness, the time and space to figure each other out, to not rush, to be tender, to care for her, solely. I asked for the long yawn-- the breathing in. I knew we needed this.

And I would choose it again. I know it's the right thing.

But it's terrifying in ways I didn't quite anticipate. In ways I can't quite comprehend yet.

There are no more distractions.

I mean, there are a million. There are, on average, 13 diapers per day, at least two loads of laundry, four plus hours of active breastfeeding plus however many more of her wandering eyes and time spent latching, one to several naps together, so many consolations of tears, the vacuuming up of cat hair and general managing the house, some paltry amount of time of walking and/ or yoga I can muster per day, visiting with friends, and then all the food-- food that takes up eternity in preparation, cleaning, and thought for my ravenous body.

It is plenty of distractions. But at the same time, there are none. It's just me and this girl. There are no deadlines, there's no schedule, there are no demands, no necessities, no assessments, no boss, no paycheck. I have stripped my life bare of all the constructs-- all the rushing about that once made me feel important and valuable. It made me feel like I belonged to something, that I was essential.

Now it is eerily still.

I'm left with myself. My real, whole self. Not the self trying to impress or please someone, not the self trying to do it right, not the self trying to keep up.

It's just Beth.

Who am I?

I think that's the lonely feeling.

I'm just not sure who I am. I'm not sure why I am. I'm not sure why anything.

Those are the tears. The sun begins to set. I realize a day has almost passed and I don't know what it all means.

It feels very silly in comparison with all that's happening in the world. Big, real, devastating, atrocious things are happening every day.

But my life has become so small, so insular. It is my couch and the breastfeeding pillow and that small sweet face. It's so small I can't see out right now. I am sorry for that. I feel guilty for that.

But I can see enough to know I'm lost.

I figure my footing starts here. In this admission. That I am lonely because I don't know myself. That I'm lonely because I've spent a lifetime trying to avoid myself. That, for the first time, someone else's life is on the line too, and suddenly it feels urgent that I get my shit together.

I have never in my life felt so raw.

I feel like a newborn myself.

Melby and I are just getting started. Maybe we can grow together, my girl. Maybe in taking care of you, I will also learn to take care of myself.

I don't know. Tomorrow is a new day. We'll sit in this for now. We'll feel it. We'll begin the process of figuring it out.

Tomorrow is a new day. We'll get there together.

Maternity Style | The Waiting Game

Maternity leave pre-baby is kind of like vacation. Except I'm still pregnant. And I can't drink. And I get to sit around and wonder when, exactly, I'll be launched into several hours of intense pain. So really not like vacation at all.

I've been working on the nursery and putting together ethical gift guides to pass the time (due date is tomorrow), and figured I should capture a few more maternity style pictures before I officially deflate. I especially wanted to get some shots of this coat, because it's been a godsend since the temperature dropped a few weeks ago. By this point, none of my regular coats fit, so I bought this dusty rose cashmere coat by Theory (I found it on sale at Bloomie's... phew!). I'm so glad that relaxed, oversized silhouettes are in this season, as it made finding maternity-appropriate winter wear much easier. And the color is a bit of a head-turner; I get compliments on it every time I wear it out. It makes me feel like a fancy East Coast lady-about-town.

All I need is a Shih Tzu with a diamond-studded collar.

...But is it Ethical?

Much like BCBG, Theory isn't a brand that I would promote as particularly ethical (you can read Project Just's review of their parent company here). But their clothing is incredibly well-made with an emphasis on classic/timeless silhouettes, so they'll do when I can't find an ethical or secondhand version of what I'm looking for. The dress, by Susana Monaco, is made in the USA (similar here).

We'll see how much more blogging I get through before our new friend arrives, but au revoir for now darlings!

Outfit Details: Theory 'Clairene New Divide' Wool & Cashmere Coat / Susana Monaco dress (made in USA; similar here) / Woven leather platform sandals (thrifted) / TOMS Luisa sunglasses (one-for-one)

Jacqui 11/3/16 Jacqui 11/3/16

Palihouse Santa Monica and a Reformation Dress

A quick stay at Palihouse

Whenever we travel, I make it my personal mission to stay at the quirkiest, most Wes Andersonian hotel I can find. In Paris, it was the Grande Pigalle in all of its nostalgic glory – spiral staircases, brass room keys, and pineapple door knockers included. In London, it was the Ace Hotel (a little less intimate, but quirky nonetheless). And when planning a recent babymoon/ bday getaway to Santa Monica, I stumbled upon Palihouse.

Formerly the Embassy Hotel Apartments, Palihouse has been housing design-minded travelers like myself since 1927. I imagine it’s been gutted a few times over the years, but the original Moorish/ Mediterranean influences and intricate ornamentation remain intact. The interior decor has a mountain lodge-meets-Old-Hollywood feel, with kitschy details like pink velvet ottomans, dip-dyed wood furniture, and antlers over the bed. The ambiance of a place is just as important to me as what we do/see/eat, and Palihouse has atmosphere in spades. We didn't have to do much – it was vacation enough to just sit back, look around, and soak it all in.

It's Maternity if I say it is

I’ve been meaning to post about this Reformation dress for a while, so we took advantage of the gorgeous courtyard and overcast skies to shoot a few pictures. I bought the Mattie dress dress back in June, hoping that the wrap style would accommodate the bump throughout my pregnancy. For the most part, it has. It’s grown significantly shorter as the months go by, but I still think it looks pretty good, considering it wasn't actually designed for a pregnant body. I've worn it to every fancy occasion this summer and fall, including my own baby shower. And true to form, it's made in the USA from 100% viscose, a synthetic fabric made from biodegradable plant fibers. I love Reformation with a passion unmatched (well, at least when it comes to dresses), and I'd be stoked if they ever decided to create a maternity line.

Back to Reality

It was a lovely weekend of ocean air, family, fancy vegan food, and a visit to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Now I'm back at work for another two weeks until, well... shit gets real. I can't wait to welcome this little bug into the world (and drink wine again, in that order).

Outfit Details: Reformation Mattie Dress in Hibiscus / Madewell denim jacket (old; similar US-made version here)/ Woven leather platform sandals (thrifted) / Kayu Andrea Clutch (responsibly handcrafted by women in the Philippines, Indonesia and Malaysia)

Jacqui 10/25/16 Jacqui 10/25/16

Just Call Me Big Red

It’s week 34, and I’m feeling positively large and in charge. While I was able to get away with wearing some non-maternity pieces for a while, I’m relegated to knits and spandex these days. Thank goodness for this Ingrid & Isobel tank dress, which I’ve basically been living in for the last month. It’s soft and cozy, while making me feel comfortably compressed (is that why babies like being swaddled?). And, lest we forget the purpose of this blog, it’s also made in the USA.

The scarf is by Marine Layer, a San Francisco-based brand that I absolutely adore. The company manufactures most of their clothing in the United States, while sourcing more technical styles like raincoats and accessories overseas. Like Everlane, they closely monitor the factories they work with to ensure fair and ethical working conditions.

I love their laid-back aesthetic, and I can’t wait to get my hands on their Jackie Denim Skirt once I have a waist again (I mean it has my name written all over it, riiiiiight?).

And then there’s the coat. This, along with the camel-colored version I have in the same style, was a compromise in terms of ethics. BCBG certainly isn’t a pioneer in the ethical fashion space (although they do have a vague corporate responsibility statement like everyone else), but I’ve always found their clothing to be exceptionally well made. Every BCBG piece I own has held up for years (including the dress that I’m wearing in almost every Facebook picture from 2015). So I know that when I make a purchase from them I can adhere to the “30 wears” principle. Ideally, a garment will be ethically produced and well-made, but as I’ve mentioned before that’s not always the case. Ultimately, I want to ensure that the things I buy will stay in my closet for years to come.

Jacqui 6/28/16 Jacqui 6/28/16

Ethical, Sustainable Maternity Clothing

*From top left: Isabella Oliver / Hatch / Boob Maternity / Storq*

I never quite succeeded in creating a my dream capsule wardrobe, but before I got pregnant I was in a pretty good place clothing-wise. I'd found ethical versions of most of my wardrobe staples, sewn a few things, and curbed my purchasing habits quite a bit. I was hoping I could somehow adapt my wardrobe for pregnancy without having to spend too much.

After all, it seemed really lame to go out and buy a bunch of new clothes that I could only wear for > nine months. Talk about waste! Talk about being a target demographic! I could work around the bump, right? Defy the expectations of society and Google Ads alike?

Oh, how naive I was. I'm only four months in and not really that big yet, but I've already had to put much of my "normal" wardrobe away.

One of the problems is that I didn't wear much loose, flowing clothing to begin with. Most of my dresses are fitted at the waist, and I tend to forgo knit blouses in favor of cotton or silk blends that don't leave much wiggle room. Even my looser shift dresses now make me look like a tent, and the hems of my blouses are rising to scandalous heights. I'm at a point that I need to find some ethically-made staple pieces, and fast.

I spent some time last weekend scouring the internet and other ethical fashion blogs to find the cutest sustainable maternity and maternity-friendly brands out there. Did I miss anything? Pregnant or formerly-pregnant ladies speak up!

Strictly Maternity

Boob Design | Made sustainably in Turkey and Portugal
Storq | Made in USA
Hatch | Several made in the USA options
Leota | Made in USA
Mitera | Made in USA
Tiffany Rose Maternity | Designed and made in Britain
Envie de Fraise | Made in France | Adorable maternity swimwear
Isabella Oliver | Made in Portugal | Note: While I wasn't able to find much information on Isabella Oliver's website in terms of sustainable practices, they do have a stated commitment to timeless design an high-quality fabric. Their clothes are worth checking out if you think you can wear them post-pregnancy.

Maternity-Friendly

Ace and Jig | Lots of loose, flowy stuff, if that's your thing.
M.M. Lafleur | Made in USA | Check out their blog post detailing how Maura Kutner Walters, the Digital Executive Editor of Condé Nast Traveler, adapted M.M. Lafleur dresses during her pregnancy.
Synergy | Made with certified organic materials using fair labor practices | Lots of jersey, lots of stretch!
Reformation | Sustainable and made in USA | Ok, so while 99.9% of Reformation's clothing is not maternity-friendly, they do carry some gorgeous wrap tops, like the one pictured to the left, that could be layered over a maternity dress and tied above the bump. I'm going to try this one out, and hopefully have a cute wrap top I can wear post-baby :)