I am a writer who ended up a reality TV producer. A designer who woke up a business owner during a recession. And a wife who found herself a personal chef when her husband was diagnosed with cancer. Then I became a mom, ended up in the ER, and decided it was time to stop letting stress control my life. Some would say, "my life is a lemon." I say, I love Lemonade :)

GROCERY SHOPPING FROM YOUR COUCH #stressless #appmore #stresspert

I find that time management is a big stress factor in my life. So, this holiday season I decided if there was an “app” for something that could save me time, I was going to try it out.  I got the idea after I discovered Instacart this past October.  I literally was able to throw my daughter’s Halloween party 8 hours after landing from an International flight for work thanks to Instacart.   So, the past few weeks I have had everything from Costco to Christmas Trees delivered to my house, yes even my Christmas Tree.  Some of the deliveries lowered my blood pressure, such as avoiding Whole Foods on Thanksgiving Eve; others raised it, like when I got the $80.00 bill for my mobile gel manicure.  Either way, I learned that the internet and apps can save you time… or turn you into a  carb-loading recluse. So as we count down to the holidays my friend, Carol, encouraged me to share my stresspertise with you in a daily series we will call, “There is an App for that?!!”

My First Trial: INSTACART


As many of you already know, the grocery delivery app, Instacart, has been sweeping the nation. While grocery delivery is not exactly a new idea, Instacart has a game-changing feature, a “personal shopper.” With a tap of your finger you can have someone whisking up and down the aisles  of your favorite grocery store for you. All of a sudden you are able to find the the time to take a bubble bath or hit the gym! So what happens if something you want is out of stock or is a higher price than listed on the app? No worries, Ben (your personal shopper) will give you a jingle and let you know some options you can swap out your choice for. Are you worried about the ingredients? Have no fear my gluten-free friends! “Ben” will even check labels for you and read you the ingredients over the phone if need be. So what’s the catch? Well, we don’t  know yet. I am guessing as this app becomes more and more popular the optional $99.00 express membership will be more important to have if you want your groceries within 2 hours. As of now you can pay an express $3.99 fee if you don’t have the membership and want delivery in a timely manner. (This fee also applies to orders under 35 dollars with or without the membership.) You can also just choose free delivery depending on the delivery time windows.

WHAT I DID: So the Tuesday before Thanksgiving I was exhausted and had no time to shop, and I needed to prepare a dinner for 12 people. Could Instacart handle the load? Yes, and then some! One shopper picked up all my liquor at Costco, another all my dietary restricted needs from Wholefoods, and the items that were cheaper at our regional store Ralph’s, were delivered by yet a third shopper within 2 hours of my request. Only downside was I had to tip 3 people, but trust me as I sipped a gorgeous glass of Cabernet and made my pumpkin pie I didn’t mind.

HOW IT WORKS: Depending on what’s available in your area, you can choose which Instacart-friendly store you would like delivery from. For example, in my area I can choose from Costco, Wholefoods, Ralph’s, Gelsons, Smart and Final, and Super King (a local store). Once you select your store you can start shopping. You can choose to shop from more than one store at once if you like.


  • They don’t price gouge, like most grocery delivery. The only time I have paid more than going to the store is when I ordered Costco, which makes sense to me seeing they have a membership fee. If you scroll in your app you can actually see if the prices are the same as in store.
  • Tip is optional, but come on, people, you have someone doing your dirty work so TIP!!!!!
  • The rush delivery fee is small for the amount of customer service you are getting. Also, your first order is free delivery in most areas.
  • You can shop multiple stores in one check out.  Thanksgiving Eve I had deliveries from Costco, Whole Foods, and Ralphs.
  • It is way cheaper than Amazon Fresh and has more options.  I love me some Amazon but Instacart right now blows it away in price and grocery options.


  • It is not available everywhere yet. I hear in many cities it does not extend to the suburbs.
  • The website is not updated with items, so don’t assume that an item you don’t see listed is not available.
  • There is a section that says “request an item” write what you are looking for in there and many times they have it. I find that the Costco items are very limited on the site even though the store has it all in stock. (Don’t be afraid to ask your personal shopper to check!)
  • Because of its growing popularity, wait times for delivery have begun to increase and will most likely continue to do so as more people find out about Instacart.





*Lifein2lemonade is edited by Ryan Howard




I experienced a lot of firsts as a working mom of my delightful 15 month old, Delaney. Some of the hardest were nursing, explosive diarrhea, and the first time I said,  “goodbye”.  But honestly, I was mentally prepared for it all.  As a producer and director I was used to sleepless nights, waking up to someone screaming for you, and never having enough time to pee. Plus, Brian and I had launched a company together. We had survived the “great recession” together. And even kicked cancer’s ass together. So 7 years into our marriage we were strong, and ready for our dynamic duo to become a terrific trio.

However, with the joys of motherhood came a bunch of other firsts I was NOT prepared for; facial numbness, back spasms, migraines, weight gain and a general feeling of self-loathing. At first I accepted my less-than-optimal health situation. I chalked it up to motherhood. Until one day, 5 months postpartum, everything went pitch black. Literally.

The last thing I remember was being angry and stressed. I had just read an email about someone stealing an idea from me.  I started to see spots, the spots got bigger, and suddenly dark.  As I blindly tried to voice dial my husband a million thoughts raced through my brain.  “Why do I never slow down?!!! “Why had I gone back to work 9 weeks postpartum after a c-section”  AND “OMG, I am not dressed for an ambulance!!!! I am in my old torn up pregnancy leggings!!!”

By the time I finally reached my husband, the episode progressed from darkness to a shattered prisym obstructing the vision in both eyes.  He kept me calm while unbeknownst to me, he was  “google doctoring” the situation. Then he told me to call my neighbor immediately and have her take me to the ER. He was thinking, “My crazy wife just had a stroke!”  By the time my neighbor Katie and I arrived at the ER, my eyesight had returned. Doctors rushed me to a CT scan.  Then after 4 hours, while Katie was on a hunt for a vending machine,  my doctor emerged. “Your CT scan was clear, however we would like to admit you. You need an MRI as we believe you probably have a tumor less than 2cm between your eyes, and the CT scan can’t see it.”

I tried to take my own IV out and walk out the door.  I politely explained I have an infant at home and this just doesn’t work into my shoot schedule.  However, I was more than happy to come back, let’s say, Thursday? The doctor sternly looked me in the eye and said, “We believe if you walk out that door you could die.”  With those words, I started replaying different things in my head, “Why  hadn’t I taken more time to enjoy my daughter’s smile or laughter” and “Will I get to see her grow up?”




Katie returned to me sobbing. As soon as she heard the news, she called my husband and told him to get to the hospital as soon as possible.  After a few somber moments of silence I turned to her and said, “I swear if I don’t find out I am dying in 48 hours I want to start talking about stress. Stress is killing all of us.” She wiped her own tears, and said, “Should I be documenting this in case?” (See photo)



Once Brian arrived we told him our new plan . My calling in life was to unveil the truth about stress. He  looked at me and said, “Are you f***ing kidding me??? You want to talk about this now? NO, my focus is your health right now.” But when I rolled out of the MRI he showed me this and said, “DAMN YOU! Let’s go make a difference”.



 Thankfully, the MRI was clean. It turns out my temporary blindness was triggered by a painless ocular migraine and I would have clusters of them as time went on. It took months of symptoms, specialists, and tests to conclude I was suffering a myriad of REAL health issues due to stress.  So once I got back on track I spent months working with the top doctors, scientists, and experts in the field to learn everything I could about this, ‘not-so-silent killer’ and find a way to demonstrate to the world we need to start looking at Stress differently.

I love my job.  I don’t even mind that I am a workaholic.  However, as I learned, 70% of doctors visits are due to stress. We work 40% more than we did 10 years ago and our GPS-reliant society has made cellphones the “new black” and talking to one another the “old-fashioned way” obsolete. The results are that we’re shrinking our brains, dumbing down our senses, and weakening our immune systems. Our attention spans have dramatically shrunk and with it, our memories. We no longer watch TV. We watch CNN while on Facebook and texting our friends. The raw truth is we reboot our smart phones more than we do our own bodies.

So what do we do? Well, the great news is all the experts agree on one thing: stress management is in our control and most of the effects can be reversed before it is too late. I am sticking to my word and I am here to help you.  My blogs will be jam-packed with ways to combat stress, from food to fun activities. I will be working with doctors from all over the world to bring you updated information on the effects of stress and what you can do at home to fight it.  I will have daily stress updates on twitter and Instagram that will hopefully make you laugh as well as help you find a way to “unplug” a bit.   I have also decided to conduct a social experiment. With the help of my team of doctors and my friends I am preparing to attempt to live a stress free life for 8 weeks.  Now, living completely stress free is nearly impossible, but experts say there is a healthy level of stress and an UNHEALTHY level.  So lets see what happens when I become their guinea pig.

I will be monitoring my health during the process as well as my mental well being and exploring some unconventional and sometimes bizarre practices used around the world to destress.  Since sacrifices will  need to be made with my work habits I will also be documenting the impact this experiment has on my career and my wallet!!!!   So check back often and follow us on twitter and instagram @stresspert. Because I believe if we start to #stressless we will all #livemore


Love your #stresspert






*Lifein2lemonade is edited by Ryan Howard

An Apology To All My Facebook Friends: #lifein2lemonade

I remember  the day my youngest sister told me about Facebook.  It was Fourth of July and we were sitting on my Dad’s old boat named Grand Cru. My sister was wearing a gray t-shirt over her swim suit. Her hair was in a ponytail and she was sitting directly across from me in the Captain’s chair playing DJ.  I was wearing my favorite pink Target tankini.  My now husband, then fiancé, Brian, had his shirt off drinking a beer.   It was about 8 years ago, and I don’t have a photo, but I remember every single detail.


Here is a picture I posted 6 weeks ago on FB: I know we were dressed up, but I don’t remember why. I do remember the photo got “likes” into the double-digits.

“Facebook is a college thing,” she told us. “You know, so we can connect with other students.”  Brian and I laughed, “college is so ‘techie’ now. We had to walk down our dorm hallway to see what our friends were up to.” We told her Brian’s friend just joined Facebook.  She said, “I guess you could, but its sort of weird at 30. Facebook really isn’t about that.” Brian and I both agreed we would NEVER join Facebook.

A year later we, and about 500 of our so-called  “friends” were on Facebook.  At first it was exciting, it was an easier, more accessible version of classmates.com, which just never took off with my generation. You could connect and see people from your past you had not spoken to in years! You checked it once a week and it was like Christmas. “Over 50 friend requests?!?! OMG I AM SO POPULAR!!!!!”  The status updates felt like a game of Madlibs, Kara is___ (fill in blank).  It was a mental challenge to construct your posts around the word “is” and it was hilarious when people epically failed: “John Brown is can’t wait to go on vacation.” Once we all got over the reconnecting part, it became a place where you would post your most outrageous life updates.  It was a secret club your parents and work colleagues were not members of. You felt 20 again, bragging to the world about how much Tequila you actually drank on your cruise! (20 likes) Or how your “kids” just drew crayon all over your white couch. (30 likes)  You could get immediate validation of how entertaining your life was.

Three years into being a user, I was checking Facebook daily. At first it wasn’t a bad thing. Sure it was taking time away from my life, but it was also helping my company. The recession had happened and Facebook helped me promote my blog and my documentary. My husband was diagnosed with cancer and I was able to reach several people with our story and several people reached out to me.  There was a certain comfort from the sense of community and support I could receive by a “click”. I was not alone, I had 700 “neighbors”. Then came “checking in”. I never did it. However, people “checked ME in” all the time.  Suddenly, I found myself reading other people’s “check-ins” more frequently.   I knew what everyone was doing all the time and sometimes it made me sad.  “Why wasn’t I invited to brunch?” or “How come ‘Suzy and Mary’ had time to see each other and I haven’t seen Mary in weeks?” Logically speaking, these were things that happened since the dawn of man. Facebook did not make them happen. However, the “check in” was changing the dynamics of how we treated and looked at friendships. Once you checked in or someone checked you in, your intent was to let the world know exactly where you were and who you were with.

I was no longer hearing over cocktails or a gabby phone call about my best friend’s impromptu get-together last weekend. I, along with 100 other people, were watching an evening unfold on Facebook that we were not invited to. It became urgent to “check in” as if whatever we were doing didn’t count unless the world saw. As the months progressed, conversations with my friends became less “present.”  The Facebook craze made it ok to keep your head down, check your email, scroll TMZ, or text someone while you were out with friends. We spent more time taking 50 pictures in order to document the “perfect selfie” than we did taking in the scenery.

By now, we were all refreshing Facebook constantly and our memories though heavily documented, started to slip away. It became increasingly hard to remember the specifics of certain events over the last 5 years. I could remember every single detail, phone number, and conversation before 2009 but recent years … holes. Did I have Alzheimer’s? Was there something wrong with me? No, it wasn’t me. It was everyone. No one was watching a movie anymore, they were texting, tweeting, reading FB AND watching a movie.  Scientists have proven the bombardment of information is actually changing our brain chemistry and making us forgetful.  And to make matters worse, Facebook started selling our memories to the highest bidder.

I started to notice Facebook was causing conflict in my life. If a guy posted a long diatribe professing his love to his wife, I would snap at my Brian, “You never say that to me on FB!”  I watched as people I admired and looked up to had their confidence rattled by how successful other people were.  Facebook was exposing our insecurities with every post.  Somehow it could make a smart, educated person believe that whatever someone else was posting was the whole “truth.”  Some days Facebook made me feel fat. Other days; stupid and unsuccessful.  At a rapid pace we were starting to filter our photos and our lives, only the “best” made the cut. Then last year, while I was pregnant with my daughter Delaney, I actually lost a friend. I made the mistake of posting an album of pictures from my baby shower. One picture included a shot of her that she felt was unflattering. At the time, I thought how outrageous it is to believe that someone would post a pic to deliberately hurt someone!  And while I don’t agree with what happened to our friendship, I understand how FB was making all of us believe that every word, every post, and every check was a deliberate and calculated move and a reflection of how the world sees us.

So two weeks ago I woke up and on an impulse I deleted FB from my computer, my phone and my iPad. Maybe it was the dozens of times I judged mommies who had one hand on their phone and their other hand was being tugged by their daughter (while I secretly knew there were many times I nursed my daughter while trolling Facebook). Maybe it was the advertisers and the awakening “they were listening” (by snooping our metadata). I suffered an ectopic pregnancy recently, a fact I shared with only close relatives and friends, and suddenly advertisements about fertility issues were all over my screen. It was all just too much. I decided to take a break from FB and get my life back and reflect.

So this is my letter of apology to all my Facebook friends. I am sorry if I ever made you think my life was better or more exciting than yours, trust me: it is not. And believe it or not, I thought the same about yours.  I am sorry I didn’t tell you about my Facebook crash diet, but I want you to know, as soon as I dropped the app in the trash, I was less stressed.  I am sorry you have been going through or experiencing things I don’t know about lately. But, we should talk more, I would love that, lets make an effort.  To everyone’s B-day I missed, I truly feel bad.  However, shame on me, I shouldn’t need Facebook to remind me the day you were born.  I want you to know this year I am going to work on it.

I wish I lived in a world where I could “unplug” from FB forever, but sadly I do not. You probably wouldn’t be reading this blog post if it weren’t for FB. So as a writer and director I need you to understand why I will still use FB for your support. But in return, here is what I promise you. I am going to be a better person and friend. I am going to use this social media platform to post and write bout how we can all be less stressed and have a better sense of community. (and maybe some an occasional sports updates – go Blackhawks!) For now, I am keeping my FB off my iphone and ipad. I am going to go “old school” and log-in on a desktop. When I do spend time with you in person or on FB, I hope we can be more present. And most importantly, I want you to know you are wonderful, smart, successful, beautiful, handsome, good parents, great daughters and sons and supportive and amazing siblings and spouses. I don’t just “like” you. I like you.


*Lifein2lemonade is edited by Ryan Howard



High school gave me major anxiety. I couldn’t wait until it was over. The day I graduated? Well, it was the last time I worried about which “lunch table” I would sit at. That is until I was 5 months pregnant. I was hovering over a cheese platter at a party and a random, amazingly skinny pregnant girl, asked me, “So, what’s your birth plan? You are going to have a natural birth right?”

In that moment I  remember feeling extreme panic.  Since the day I found out I was pregnant I was terrified of natural child birth,  I was terrified of an epidural, and I was terrified of ending up a C-Section. Wasn’t there someway they could just magically transport the baby out of the womb?

Too ashamed and embarrassed to share my fears I quietly listened to this mother-to-be as she stereotyped moms into two categories:

Category A: A woman who loves her child enough to fight for a natural birth. She eats well, takes classes, and visualize her cervix opening like a flower. Her doula will usher her child into the world as Enya plays and drums beat. She will only breast feed and shutters at the words “formula supplement”.

Category B: A woman who has a need for convenience. She shutters at the thought of a 12-week birthing class and IF she hired a doula, it was for the massage. She plans on an epidural and deep down obviously hopes for a C-section. (Who REALLY wants to end up, to quote Sean Penn, looking like Madonna “Throwing a hotdog down a hallway.”)

While, I knew deep down the concept of women being on only one side or the other was absurd, I still felt immense pressure to make the right “plan.” So after talking to the lovely, perfect pregnant lady, I ditched the snack table and told my husband, “We need a good birth plan!!!!”

Since we already only ate organic foods, believed in natural methods when possible, and were very active as a couple, my friend suggested we sign up for the “Bradley Method” class. At first, it made a lot of sense. Unfortunately, doctors do not walk you through all the things that happen in the hospital. Nor do they explain you have choices. People assume this is because doctors like the convenience of a c-section. Personally, I think if you get that feeling from your Ob-gyn, no matter what your plan is, it is time to find a new one. What I saw with my doctor when I started asking questions was fear. The fear I will have too much knowledge and go “Google doctor” on her, which would ultimately interfere with the health and safety of my baby.

On the other spectrum of things it was around week 6 of class that I learned if you want to make enemies in natural birthing class ask questions like, “What do you do if your birth does not go as planned?” I had known several people who were terrified during their emergency C-sections or inductions because they were unprepared. So, it made sense to me to just ask about all the “what ifs”. To say this did not go over well with our classmates is an understatement. In fact, the week our teacher finally went over the “what ifs”, half of our class opted not to attend because that was “negative” birth energy. It was at this point I not only realized my husband and I were not going to be invited to the class BBQ’s but when it comes to birth- EVERYONE OPERATES UNDER FEAR.

Sadden, by our lack of bonding in our birthing class I sought solace in my other group of pregnant friends who were ALL about the epidural. While their stories of “how amazing” the drugs can be made me giggle, I wasn’t sold. First off, ‘needle’ and ‘spine’ are two words that should never be used in the same sentence. Plus, I had learned in Bradley an epidural can slow down the birth process if given too early. I also had a few friends who loved the concept of removing the anxiety associated with the waiting game of birth.  The had actually opted for a C-section.  The idea of a spinal and/or surgery still terrified me and sounded traumatizing.  Feeling hopeless and once again afraid, the same question ran through my brain, “Where did I belong as a mother?”

Finally, despite being on the Bradley diet,  I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. Immediately, I found myself lying to people about my situation.  I was ashamed.  Would people not know I walked everyday and ate well? Would they think I was lazy and didn’t care about my baby?  I could feel the guilt and emotion taking a toll on me so I  decided I needed some help.  I started working with a doula that was a former RN nurse.  At our first session I broke down crying about; what the doctors were telling me, what friends were telling me, and what Google was telling me!!!  What if I was forced into an induction? It wasn’t what I wanted!! What would people think? Would they think I was a bad mom and caused this to happen? First, she told me to take a deep breath.  Then she told me to start working on my Academy Award for best actress. She said, “You need to seem trusting and informed when with the doctors. If you show fear or panic when describing your needs or wishing they will categorize you as ‘hysterical’ and think you are not being rational. Stay calm, and agreeable when telling her what you want or need.” She also told me to start “acting” around my friends. “You want the best of both worlds for your baby, so listen to all their stories and opinions. You don’t have to choose sides. If they are judging you, don’t play that game”   The plan became I would start meditation, acupuncture and continue on the Bradley diet. My goal was a natural birth. However, we taught ourselves about all the other possibilities that might occur.

As luck would have it, around 37 weeks my baby had a growth spurt and it seemed an induction might be eminent. (Clearly, my negative birth energy was coming to get me.)


We kindly gave our baby girl a little hint…

My Ob/GYN knowing I was open to her advice, yet wanting a natural birth, was supportive in giving me instructions on how to naturally induce labor. For two weeks my husband and I meditated on my cervix opening like a flower, (insert several inappropriate jokes here), we did moxibustion, I drank raspberry tea, we had lots of uncomfortable, ugly sex and I walked 2 miles everyday. I even tried out of desperation an LA urban legend labor inducing salad dressing.

I am aware the idea this dressing would work is ludicrous. I just assumed I would get more chuckles than cackles.

I am aware the idea this dressing would work is ludicrous. I just assumed I would get more chuckles than cackles.

Instead of getting support from fellow mothers on my quest for a natural induction, I found that even the kindest of momma bears can be down right mean. I had more comments on how, “It will never work” than I did “you go girl”. I am not going to lie, in my hormonal and fragile state I was crushed.  However, looking back, I am sure those moms meant me no harm. Unfortunately, judgement is a common language amongst mothers. We have all been guilty of it and fell victim to it.

At 39 weeks exactly, we had an ultra sound with a Periontologist who “called it”. I needed an induction. My doctor assured me that while this wasn’t the scenario I had in mind, this could be, in my case, the best chance at vaginal birth.

What happened over the next 3 days was no picnic. Since, this is not a blog entry on birth control, I will spare the gory details of my induction. I will tell you it was horrifying for me and not in “my birth plan”. However, I will also say my doula, my sister, and my husband were by my side the whole time. My doctor, who had never let an induction go more than 30 hours, was patient and did everything in her power to grant my wish of a vaginal birth. I asked that only midwives monitor me instead of residents. (This a possible request at my hospital) My OB/GYN granted my request and I, in return, worked with her and the midwives to do my part to help. I refused an epidural for the first 2 days. (YES TWO DAYS) When my cervix all of a sudden shut, my doula and midwife explained to me that, sometimes, a very light epidural can relax the cervix and allow the birthing process to continue. In my case, stress and fatigue were my enemies. And they were right. I received a walking epidural and my cervix and I relaxed.


The “walking” epidural allowed my visualization of a beach to become more realistic.

I was able to walk in the room supervised and my body allowed the induction to continue. (By the way, several people told me a “walking” epidural is an urban legend- not true!)

By day 3.5 we knew the induction was not working. I felt shame that I couldn’t even give birth naturally with assistance. My daughter’s heart rate had oddly stayed “zen” the entire 3 days, which I attribute to the meditation, but as zen as she was, she was not dropping down the birth canal. In fact, now that I have met my daughter, I am pretty sure she crawled back up. On the fourth day I sobbed as we all decided a C-section was the safest for the baby and me. My doctor did her best to assure me this could still be the birth I envisioned. She had me pick the music played in surgery, (We chose Enya to keep our sense of humor).

It was obvious to the whole operating room I was scared. The anesthesiologist assured me, once she was born, I would no longer be afraid. 15 minutes into surgery she was placed on my chest for skin to skin contact while they finished. I did not feel the overwhelming relief I had hoped.  I was violently shaking from the medication and frightened she would fall from my chest. The whole surgery seemed surreal. I felt extremely disconnected from my child and my body. Once again, I felt shame. The first few seconds as a new mother… I was already failing her. Then, a miracle snapped me out of my self pity.  My Ipad somehow shuffled from Enya to a Christmas album and the OR filled with laughter as “Silent Night” blared in March. The energy shifted in the room and I finally caught a glimpse of my daughter Delaney.  She was beautiful and she was part of me.

So many emotions were running through both of our bodies at this moment.

So many emotions were running through both of our bodies at this moment.

She wasn’t as big as they had thought, but her head was BIG. She knew better than everyone else she would get “stuck” in a vaginal birth.

My daughters beautiful big head also came with 2lbs  of hair.

My 7.15 oz daughter’s big beautiful head came with 2lbs of hair.

My doula started helping me breast feed in recovery, and our daughter never left our side. Not for a moment. (Many people have horror stories of the dad and baby going to the recovery room while mom is still in surgery) I can honestly say we worked as a team to do what was best for my baby and her gorgeous big head of hair.

I was released from the hospital in under 3 days post surgery. I did not take any pain killers except Motrin. My doctor said for someone who was in labor 4 days, THEN had a c-section, my recovery was fantastic. This was attributed to my diet, exercise and holistic approach to my pregnancy. Still I was genuinely embarrassed to tell my friends the story of my daughter’s birth. As months went by and friend after friend gave birth naturally around me, the pain deepened.  In our society when you are able to give birth naturally you earn some sort of “bragging” right that deserves high-fives and hugs. When you have a c-section no one high-fives you or says, “OMG that is AMAZING, you are so strong!!”

Social media, our broken medical system, and a competitive society has created a mommy war zone.  There are battles around birth choices, birth plans and birth stories. I believe mothers have a right to be informed and make their own decisions. I also think we have a responsibility to be open and stop labeling each other. Not all medical intervention is bad. Not all moms fall into 2 categories. We have to stop judging each others’ choices or stories; it forces us to take sides rather than unite. In the end, we are own advocates and if we want birth to be safer for us, and our children, we need to remember all mom’s deserve a high-five and there is strength in numbers.

So what about the idea of a birth plan? Personally, I think the best plan is to have several plans but if a mom needs that piece of paper to get through the biggest transition of her life, I support her. Remember; no matter how our birth goes, we all walk out that door a mom.


*Lifein2lemonade is edited by Ryan Howard