Birth Story: Part 2

My husband had to interrupt his viewing pleasures and leave the room for twenty minutes.  I hated that he had to leave during this procedure.  Epidurals scare me and I wanted his support.  This was also the last thing I feared so I just wanted to get through it.  Once the Anesthesiologists came in with her team, my very nice supportive nurse was going on break and substituted a not-so-friendly nurse to assist.  Crap!  I wanted her to hold my hand and give me words of encouragement but she was cold as ice.  Epidurals make me feel very faint at first.  At one point I was afraid I was going to hit the floor and become paralyzed since there was a catheter in my spine!  I know… dramatic, but this was my first thought when Mrs. Frost-y Cold Heart would not hold my hand.

The Epidural hurt much worse this time around.  I had breaks between my contractions so I could feel more of the pain in my back.  Luckily it was quick and once the nausea subsided they laid me down on my side to relax.

My husband brought back food and I watched him eat as I salivated. What’s the worse that can happen if I had a little bit of food, right?  Once the nurses left I made him sneak me some pretzels.  Let’s keep that between us.

Around 5 pm, the nurse came in to check on me.  After reviewing the monitor she asked if I could feel any pressure.  I felt some but really wasn’t sure if I was ready to push. I figured I had another few hours of labor.

“Well looks like it will be soon, so let me know when you start to feel like you have to make a bowl movement.”

Whoa! Already? About five minutes after she left the room I started to feel some pressure.  I called her back in to check me.

 “Yes, he’s ready.  Let’s start pushing!”

I started crying tears of joy.  I had only been in labor a few hours and I was about to meet my little man? My doctor then came in and proceeded to put on her gear, which looked more like she was the lead character in the Hurt Locker.

“Wow Doc, that’s some intense gear.  You would think I was about to explode on you.”

She chuckled, “You’d be surprised.”

“I don’t like surprises, so let’s keep those to a minimum.”

“Alright, let’s have a baby!”

My only complaint now was I could see a reflection in her oversized safety glasses. Yikes, is that me? Don’t look! The last thing I wanted was to see was my lady-parts pushing out a baby.  I tried to close my eyes and just focus on pushing.

I pushed for about twenty minutes.  Right toward the end the doctor told me she may have to cut me if he didn’t come out on the next push.  This must have scared the baby and more importantly me because on the next push he appeared.

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Then came my favorite moment.  The one where you make eye contact with this little life you have been dreaming about for the last nine months.  It’s so powerful it brings the strongest to their knees. It is a moment I wish I could stop in time and savor more than time allows.  It is one that will make me happy for the rest of my life. My son was finally here. They put him on my chest, which is something I didn’t get to experience with my first son. It was amazing.  My husband and I both cried.  It was the perfect moment.

I was released on Wednesday just in time for Thanksgiving, which seemed fitting as I have so much to be thankful for.  Is it too early to say I already want another one?  I wonder if my husband would agree?  Wishful thinking.

Meet my little man, Alexander:

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Birth Story: Part 1 of 2

The last few weeks leading up to my son’s birth were brutal.  From bed rest to being in triage three different times, I was beyond ready to meet him.  The anticipation of his birth had also starting getting the best of me.  I cried many times and went over all the ‘what if’s’ in my head on a nightly basis.  I prayed for an easy, fast, natural birth and thankfully God was listening.

At my doctor’s recommendation (along with my bladder, back and hips), I decided to get induced on my actual due date of November 25th.  I was concerned about being induced, as there is always risk for a cesarean section if your body does not cooperate.  I figured at 41 weeks the baby would be fully developed and my small body needed a break – desperately.

I was scheduled to arrive at the hospital at 11:30 am for induction.  I dropped my older son off at school and he ran in shouting, “It’s my baby brother’s birthday!” This melted my heart and curbed some of my anxiety.  I ate a nice full breakfast so I wouldn’t be starving, did my hair and makeup and headed to the hospital. Yes, I did my hair and make up. A girl needs to feel pretty right?

Once we arrived we had to wait for a room for half an hour.  It almost felt like I was checking into a hotel.  I had enough bags with me to seem that way.  By the  way – there are very few things you need to take with you to the hospital.  I should have known better but apparently I thought I would want to wear my own gowns and fix my hair.  Not the case (surprise, surprise).

The nurse finally called me back and we got set up in the room.  Mentally I knew there were only three things I was dreading, if I could get past those I would be fine.  The first was the IV.  Getting IV’s in your hands is miserable – totally faint worthy.  I warned the nurse I was a fainter and IV’s grossed me out.  With that in mind she really focused on making it as painless as possible and it worked!  I barely felt it.  One thing down, two more to go.

Let's do this!
Let’s do this!

Next I was terrified of the doctor breaking my water bag.  I have heard mixed reviews on this so I was preparing for the worst.  My doctor came in and we discussed what was going to happen next. She warned me after my water bag breaks my contractions would start to come on stronger.  I remembered this from last time, so I had my game face on.   I also had my trigger finger ready for the epidural. I had no plans on waiting to get one this time around.  Hey ­– I’m not trying to be a martyr, just trying to have a baby.  Why put myself through all that pain, right?

My water bag was broken at 1 pm at which time they also started me on Pitocin. I didn’t even feel her break my water.  Another thing down, one to go. I looked at the clock and was trying to calculate how long it would be until I could hold my son.  I know the second child comes faster and you usually dilate 1 ½ centimeter per hour once you are in active labor.  I was hoping to at least have him by 7 pm so my doctor would still be there to deliver him. Nothing worse than shift change while you’re in labor. That happened with my first child and the doctor who came in was not warm and fuzzy by any means. When you are in that much pain, you need warm and fuzzy!

Now it was just the waiting game.  My husband was lying down watching Sports Center and I was scrolling the Internet on my phone to try and pass time.  Men have it so easy, he was catching up on sports highlights while I was creating life.  Doesn’t seem fair sometimes.

Don't get up or anything...
Don’t get up or anything…

About an hour later as I’m scrolling through Facebook, they hit.  HOLY Mother of God!  I had forgotten how bad contractions actually feel.  Oh yes; now I remember – like someone is crushing your pelvis.  I allowed myself to have about a dozen to see if I could manage the pain, thenI hit the nurse’s button at 3 pm:

“May I help you?”

“Um yes, I will take that epidural now. As in, as soon as possible.”

“Great, I’ll be right there.”

 

Part 2 on Friday… Stay tuned!

 

 

How Does One Make Room For Two?

As I lay here reading a bedtime story to my son just days away from my due date, reality is starting to set in. Although I’m overwhelmed with excitement, I can also feel a sadness come over me. I’m sad my son has no idea his world is about to be turned upside down, sad he will now have to share me with another and sad it will no longer be just he and I.  I hope this connection between us never fades and I will always be his “super mommy” even after his brother arrives.

Being the over-analyzer that I am, I fear this new addition might take me away from him (and my husband – he deserves attention too).  This was one of the reasons I took a hiatus from the corporate world.  I could no longer give 100% to the grueling work schedule and my family.  Often times new additions result in scarifies elsewhere.

They say the greatest gift you can give a child is a sibling. I pray this reins true for my boys. I want them to love each other and share a brotherly bond no one will ever be able to break, even if it comes when they are older. I remember when my nephew first welcomed his baby brother he told my sister, “Take him back to the hospital, I’ve changed my mind.”  We laugh now but I remember it was quite overwhelming for her at the time. Trying to manage my love for two will soon be my new normal.

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I just hope I’m always able to make my boys feel loved equally. Right now it seems unfathomable to expand my heart further for another child. Friends continue to tell me I will feel the same connection and love for my new baby – it’s just hard to imagine until he arrives.  For the past three years, I have just been Sebastian’s mom. This is all I know.

I hope baby Alex will love me just as much.  I hope he loves to cuddle.  I hope he looks at me with the same eyes as my son does now. Since he is my last baby, I know I will devote a lot of attention to him and I just hope it is not at the expense of Sebastian.

Life is about to change and although this is not my first rodeo, I feel like an amateur all over again.  Wish me luck.

 

You Are Much Stronger Than You Think You Are

When I was in labor with my son I had the most amazing nurse by my side. Being a woman with two kids of her own, her advice and support really helped me.  At one point she looked at me as I was trying to get through a painful contraction and said, “You are much stronger than you think you are.”  This wasn’t the first time I’ve heard this, but it was the first time someone said it when I desperately needed to hear it. As soon as the words left her lips I found my strength; I just had to reach for it.

After my son was born I felt so much pride and an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.  Not only did I give my son the gift of life, but I also gave myself the gift of believing – in me.  Before I left the hospital I promised myself I would not let fear stand in the way of any future aspirations.  I had a son now, one who would look to me for inspiration and guidance.  I had to deliver.

Feeling inspired from my birth experience, I signed up for the Bank of America Chicago Marathon.  Why would someone who has never run more than two miles in her life sign up for a marathon? Good question.  I signed up because deep down I didn’t think I could run it and I knew I would have to find the courage to try.  Also, as a new mom I knew it was important to find time for myself.  The training would help me continue on my journey to a healthy lifestyle and each milestone would only strengthen my confidence in myself.

I started my training in December 2010 by walking on a treadmill. My first run was on December 28. I completed 1.14 miles and thought I was going to die. The sweat was pouring off my face, my heart was pounding and my knees ached with each step. Who was I kidding?  How could I ever get to 26.2 miles? Looking for encouragement, I started reading running blogs and other marathon stories. Many of their stories sounded just like mine and their message was clear – don’t give up.

I went back to the gym and started to walk for a few minutes, then run for a few minutes. This built my stamina and helped me control my breathing. My next attempt at a long run was two weeks later.  I completed 3.34 miles without stopping. Again I felt like I would never make it to the finish line, but I was adamant about moving forward. I signed up for three races prior to the marathon.  My first was an 8K in April, the Shamrock Shuffle. This was my first taste of running an organized race.  The excitement was overwhelming.  It was much easier to run when you had thousands of people cheering you on.  I was hooked and more motivated than ever. I completed two more races, the longest being 10 miles.

Over that summer I lost some steam due to my work schedule and the heat. My runs became few and far between. I was starting to think I just didn’t have the time or energy to keep up my training.  That September I managed to get in three long runs, the longest being 16 miles.   Then I tapered off to let my body rest.  At this point I was hoping for an injury so I would have an excuse not to run, then I essentially wouldn’t be giving up.  I had family flying in and I also told all of my friends I was running, so the pressure had mounted.  They were all counting on me.

The night before the marathon my husband invited some friends over to make signs for me.  Watching my loved ones write little notes of encouragement on poster board was very emotional.  They believed in me more than I believed in myself.  Later that night I saw a quote that brought tears to my eyes and I still refer to it to this day:

“I’m a success today because I had a friend who believed in me and I didn’t have the heart to let him down.” – Abraham Lincoln

Many times when we are faced with adversity the only way we get through is by the faith others have in us. Armed with this insight I went to bed to rest my mind.  The following morning I woke early, packed all my running gear and woke my husband up to drive me.  During the short drive to the start line, we passed volunteers setting up some of the water stations and my nerves set in.  I was silent the entire ride to prevent my self from crying. My husband dropped me off and whispered in my ear, “If anyone can do this… it’s you.  You got this.”

I watched him pull away and went straight to the bathroom to throw up. After I threw up, I started laughing.  Why am I doing this to myself, it’s just a marathon.  If I make it, I make it.  The important thing is that I am going to give it my all, and that is good enough.  I headed over to my corral and waited. It took nearly an hour for my corral to finally cross the start line, as all the elite athletes start first.  I am not a fast runner nor do I strive to be.  I didn’t care to beat the Kenyans – I just wanted to finish.

As I made my way up, I remember looking at the skyline and taking a deep breath of the crisp October air and saying to myself: Well here goes nothing, just do your best.

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At mile seven I knew my husband and son were waiting for me, so the first six miles flew by.  When I rounded the corner in Wrigleyville, there they were.  My husband was holding my son on his shoulders with a sign that read: I am proud of my Mommy! You can do it! This sign along with a friend jumping in to run with me gave me a boost.  It wasn’t until mile 19 I hit a wall.  I had already made it this far; I didn’t want to give up. My mind and body was telling me to stop. Then I saw two signs that gave me the final push I needed.  The first one read: While you are out can you pick me up some bread?  I laughed out loud for a few minutes.  Then a block later another read: Pain is temporary – Pride is forever!  Once those words resonated in my tired brain, it hit me – I was going to finish no matter what.

As I turned the last corner, I got very emotional. I could finally see the finish line through my tears.  I did it.  I ran 26.2 miles. I can be the example for my son. I can best equate the feeling of crossing the finish line to the day I married my husband and the day my son was born. It was nothing short of amazing.

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Each time I tell this story I always get someone who says, “I could never do that.”  But that isn’t true because actually – you can. You are much stronger than you think you are.  Your goals are attainable, whatever they may be. I encourage each of you to challenge yourself, but most importantly believe – in you.

*This story will be featured on Kindredvine

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Things You Never Say To A Pregnant Woman

Pregnancy is definitely a love/hate relationship.  One of the things I do not love about pregnancy is all the advice and comments you get – particulary from strangers. Lately I have found that these unwanted gestures tend to get worse as you near your due date. When someone says something to me I usually just smile or do my best to fake a laugh.  Luckily I am not one to take offense easily, so if you know me and have said any of these things listed below – do not fret as I still love you. I have been keeping a list of things not to say to pregnant women to educate all the non-baby vessels (men) and judgmental moms out there. So if you fall into one of these categories – listen up.

“Your boobs are huge!”

Do not under any circumstances say this.  Much to my dismay, I’ve had a huge rack my entire life so why are you surprised they are larger during pregnancy?  This is what happens when you are creating a life in your belly.  The milk has to have somewhere to store itself! Also, stop comparing yourself to me after you make this comment with, “Mine didn’t get that big!” Good for you. Guess what – mine did. Have you not ever seen a large pair of boobs before?  Unless you have lived under a rock your entire life I am sure you have, so enough with the boob comments.

“You must be eating for two!”

Translation to a pregnant woman: I’m huge. Why can’t I double fist my cookies and ice cream in peace? It’s really the only time in life a woman can indulge without the guilt, so let us have it. If you are making this comment out of jealousy, then I suggest you go get yourself knocked up.

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“You must be ready to pop!”

Again you are insinuating I am huge. People started saying this to me when I was seven months along. When I would tell them I had another three months to go, a look of horror came over their face. I’m 5’2 people, seven months pregnant on me looks like 20 months pregnant on a normal person. Secondly, of course I am ready.  Who likes carrying around a soccer ball in their crotch for months?  I have been ready to pop since the third month.

“How much weight have you gained?”

Luckily this has only been asked a few times, but when it was I suddenly heard a record scratch. What? Who asks this? Didn’t your momma ever teach you to mind your manners?  If you are asking from a competitive aspect, I will just lie so it makes me better than you. Just a heads up.

“Are you having any more kids?”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is a question better suited for after my lady parts have returned to normal. The farthest thing from my mind right now is starting over in pregnancy! Plus your question will just result in a “HELL-TO-THE-NO!” Now, if you would like to be my surrogate along with give me a winning lotto ticket then I will reconsider my answer.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that.”

Are you my doctor? Or even a doctor at all? Then shut your mouth. Offering help is one thing but offering unsolicited advice about things that are supported in the medical community is not acceptable. I know the limits. If I want to have caffeine, I can. If I want to have a glass of wine here or there, I can too. If you see me at a bar chugging martinis and partaking in illegal substances then I fully support you not only punching me in the face, but also calling the cops to have me arrested. I think that’s fair.

“OMG, when I was in labor I almost died.”

Hey doomsday queen– look at my belly, I am still pregnant. Know what that means?  I still have to deliver this baby and the last thing I want to hear is your terrible birth story. I am still living in the possibility of having the perfect scenario of a pain free, two-push birth. I would love to hear your story but preferably after my baby is born. Deal? Good.

Sure I would love to hear... after my labor!
Sure I would love to hear… after my labor!

“It can’t be that bad.” 

I love when men say this to me. And to answer you: “IT IS!” Somewhere deep in our sadistic brains women only tend to remember the outcome of pregnancy.  This is the only reason we do it again. It is brutal and it sucks – period.  If at anytime you men would like to trade places with us through a pregnancy and birth, I will gladly take you up on that. Keep me posted.

I’m am sure this list could go on forever but these are my favorite so far. Hopefully this will clear up the air on what is appropriate and what isn’t when speaking to a pregnant woman. If you have any to add please share in the comments below.

 

 

 

Things You Can Kiss Goodbye After Having Kids

You have heard me say many times that life changes when you have kids. No matter how hard you try to hold on to your past, your future will always seem to get in the way.  Your new life will be filled with much more purpose and it will most certainly give you a new perspective; however you need to be prepared to let a few things go.  Some of the hardest things to part ways with are listed below:

  • Friends:  I have lost a few friends after having kids. In the end they expected way more of my time and attention than I was able to give.  I couldn’t balance keeping up with their lives and mine and unfortunately that wasn’t good enough. Other relationships have ceased because my idea of hanging out now entails day activities verses night activities. As much as I would love to go chug a few cocktails until the wee hours of the morning, I still have to wake up and be Mom at 7 am. Playing Mom with a hangover is pure torture. Lesson I have learned so far: To have a friend you have to be a friend, so try to reconnect as often as you can with those friends who do still make an effort to be a part of your life.
  • Money:  Makin’ it rain is a thing of the past. News flash: kids are expensive!  This is always a surprise to new parents.  You might think you have an idea of what it costs to raise a child.  Think again and while you’re at it – add a few more zeros. I remember experiencing sticker shock many times when we first had our son.  Daycare, schooling, diapers, formula, clothing, insurance and activities add up real quick. All of those weekend trips, dinners, nights on the town with friends, spa treatments – go ahead and kiss them goodbye.  Even when you do have the extra money, the guilt stops you from proceeding because you know the money could be better spent on your kids. Damn parenting guilt will get you every time! I pray every night my kid will be a pop star or a professional athlete one day so he can pay me back after he bankrupts me.  My advice: do your research so you don’t feel blind-sided, but also know you will always find a way to make it work.
What happened to all my Benjamin's?
What happened to all my Benjamin’s?
  • Your Body:  Remember that bikini body you once had? You will spend the rest of your life chasing after it once you have kids.  I know I am not the only vain one around here. We are all critical of ourselves and even if you are able to get the weight off, you will over analyze every mark on your body post-baby.  Your body changes – get over it and learn to love your new one.  I’m still working on this so no profound advice here, sorry to disappoint you.
  • Your Sleep:  All those naps I protested in Kindergarten – how do I submit a rebuttal? What I would give to take a two-hour nap every day. Sleep becomes a luxury once you have kids.  Even when your kids are sleeping, you can’t shut your mind off long enough to get the sleep you need. Your internal clock will never let you sleep in late again.  The only real uninterrupted sleep I get is when I have the Flu. Luckily Flu season is upon us!
True story...
True story…
  • Your Heart and Mind:  Every decision you make moving forward will be centered around your kids. You lie awake worrying about how you can make their life better, if you are a good parent, if you washed their favorite Batman shirt for school in the morning and if they will love you forever.  They will melt your heart telling you how much they love you, and break your heart for doing something they know they shouldn’t on a daily basis.  There is no pain greater then the look of disappointment on their face when you can’t help them when they are sick or afford that toy they want. They truly own you which is a blessing and a curse all at the same time. Prepare yourself because I guarantee you are in for a ride. 

What are things you have noticed missing from your life once you had kids? What we have gained is for another post.

 

XO,

Holly

 

 

 

5 Things Husbands Hate About Pregnancy

Since my husband played a small role in making our babies, I thought I would throw some love his way by asking what he hated about pregnancy. I also asked some of my friends’ husbands the same question to see if there was a general consensus.  My hunch was correct and most complained about the same annoyances. Even though our men will never know (nor do I think they would want to know) what it is like to be pregnant, they have to deal with us – so why not let them b*tch too?

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When I first asked my husband to give me five things he hated about pregnancy he wouldn’t take the bait. “Oh no, is this a trap for your blog? It’s not that bad and you’re the one going through it, so nothing really”  After a little eye-rolling, probing and swearing I wouldn’t get upset at his answers, he finally obliged.

Top Five Things Men Hate About Pregnancy:

  • First, he hates that I am always hot. Not just a little hot… like swamp a** hot. I insist on the AC being turned down so low that the house feels like we are front row at the Ice Capades. He now sleeps in winter pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt.  He also uses an extra blanket at night as I lie uncovered with a glass of ice water waiting for me on the night stand. Every morning he wakes up with the sniffles and a sore throat as I am wiping the sweat from my brow. He’s even tried turning it up in the middle of the night, but I always wake up and turn it down again. Checkmate guy – don’t mess with my AC.
Adam – every morning
Adam – every morning
  • I was surprised the AC was his first complaint, I thought it would be something regarding sex.  However, the sex came second. Obviously his pool of attention has diminished with each passing month. I won’t even cuddle because I am so uncomfortable and would rather wrap myself around my pregnancy pillow than him.  Plus complaining about my hips, back, huge belly and enlarged boobs is not sexy to him apparently. I would have to agree.
  • Thirdly he hates my super-power senses. Everything smells like rotten dead animal to me.  I can’t stand the smell of his face lotion and hid it from him until after the baby is born. I won’t cook come of his favorite foods and have even moved to a different table in a restaurant because I couldn’t be near the kitchen.  I think being a little high maintenance is better than vomiting in public wouldn’t you agree?
  • Next he hates the “nesting” stage. I usually have a very long honey-do-list every weekend. My nesting along with a mild case of OCD has taken over our free time organizing the garage, the boy’s room, washing all the baby clothes, de-cluttering, etc. He never complains and always does it, but I know after a long work week the last thing he wants to do is to slave away for a moody pregnant chick.
  • Lastly he hates that I share too much with him about the pregnancy. Imagine that – me share too much? No, it couldn’t be. I like to be descriptive with my symptoms to really bring home the point. How else would he know what I’m going through? You would think after eight years together he would get used to this, but he said during pregnancy my openness is more than he can take sometimes. He doesn’t want to hear about when I pee myself or that when your pregnant you can’t poop. He finished with, “Sweetie, some things are just better left unsaid.”

I’m sure there are more but I gave a limit of five. Luckily he only has eight more weeks to go to put up with me!

What are your partners’ complaints?

Cheers,

Holly

 

 

Why Are Moms the Most Judgmental of All?

I’ve recently discovered when talking to other moms I often start my sentences with, “No judging but…” I do this to be funny and break the ice, however I really am setting the stage for them to put their judging hats aside.

Moms are some of the most judgmental people I have ever met when it comes to methods of parenting.  They always have advice, most of which is unsolicited. I am not sure if these actions are a result of our mother-bear instincts, the pressure society puts on us to be perfect, or because we just want to believe our way is best. Each of us have developed our own parenting skills from books, the media, parents, friends, strangers and the go ole’ trial-and-error method. From the minute of conception we are pressured to do the right things and make the right decisions.  But who is right? You? Me? Family? Oprah? Maybe the answer is – all of us.

I recently had a woman lecture me about drinking decaf coffee because I am pregnant.  She insisted the small amount of caffeine in decaf elevates the baby’s heart rate to unsafe levels, however my doctor said I could drink regular coffee everyday if I wanted to. Was this woman a doctor? All knowing? The Dali Lama in disguise? Either way, I went home and manically Googled if I was hurting my baby. Was it really necessary for her to send a pregnant woman into a panic? It wasn’t like I was taking shots of tequila while lifting heavy boxes. Geez.  Should women feel entitled to share their thoughts because they are a mom too?  When are we crossing the line and doing more harm than good?

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Because this is my second child I have become accustomed to being judged by others, however I admit I do take the time to listen.  Hell, one of these b*tches actually might have something to say worthy of an ear. I have decided to just take the information and then choose whether or not to give a sh*t about what they think.  One thing I do know is that I am doing the best I can.  It is difficult to manage everything and keep up with the do’s and don’ts of parenting.  I also know that I would die for my son and love him more than words can say. I tell him I love him often, I feed him, I shelter him, and I hug and kiss him everyday.

In the end we all want what is best for our little tykes, so let’s stop with the criticizing and harsh judgments.  Aren’t we supposed to be emotional creatures and nurturing by nature?  Can’t we stand together and just criticize men instead of each other like we use to do before we had kids? What happened to the Girl Power phenomenon we all embraced in the 90’s compliments of the Spice Girls?  I, for one, would like it reinstated. What about you?

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Here is a list of reasons I am considered (by some moms and most parenting websites) a bad mom:

  • I loved breastfeeding and plan to do it again with my next baby. It is FREE, and my doctor says it’s what is best for baby.
  • I don’t cloth diaper.  I know – I’m hurting the environment.  Call me lazy because that is exactly why I don’t do it. I wish I wasn’t lazy because it would save a lot of money if I did cloth diaper.
  • I don’t feed my child all organic food.  I would love to, however it is very expensive and feeding an entire family on organic food only is not an option at this time.
  • Sometimes (ok often) I let him go to bed late.  This is mostly because I love spending time with him and at times – it’s the only free time I have.
  • I let him sleep in my bed. It doesn’t bother me and one day I’m sure he will go in his own bed. Until then, I will not rush him.
  • I let him watch Little Einstein’s and other shows on Disney Junior.  Cartoons are a fun part of being a child.  Why ban them?
  • I let him play with the iPad.  It can be a great babysitter at times!
  • I let him play with my iPhone when out to dinner to get peace.
  • I don’t give him a bath every night.
  • I don’t care if he is a boy; I smother him with love and kisses and let him cry when he gets a boo-boo.  This doesn’t mean he is going to be a pansy when he gets older.
  • He doesn’t have all the latest and greatest toys.  I live in Chicago – who has space for that?

There is my dirty parenting laundry. The judging can start now.  Go!

 

 

 

How Becoming a Mother Changed Me For the Better

Three years ago my husband and I welcomed a baby boy into our family. He was our first child and we were thrilled to be parents. Leading up to his birth I was confident we were ready, and as much as others told me life would change I somehow thought my life was different. I would not change, I would now just include mom on my resume. Boy – was I wrong.

The first time I held my son and looked into his eyes, life did change and so did I…dramatically. I was now a mother and solely responsible for this tiny life in my arms. To say you instantly fall madly in love is a vast understatement.  There truly are no words in the English language to describe the overwhelming joy and love you feel when you first meet your baby. It’s once you get over that moment of butterflies and kittens the fear sets in. I actually asked my nurse, “Are you sure you want to leave him to me?” I was hoping I could move in to the hospital and just use the nurses as free labor until my son enrolled in college, but unfortunately my request was not honored. Eventually they did kick me out and now here I was…a mom.

Suddenly all other things in my life came second, which included my beloved Chihuahua. Blasphemy! Every minute of everyday, even once I returned to work, I thought about my son.  Did he miss me? Was he ok? Does he know how much I love him? Does he love our nanny more than me? Should I give up my career for him? How am I going to pay for college? I basically turned into a raging lunatic. My nights were sleepless, and not just because the baby needed to eat but also because I was overanalyzing every move he made.  If I did get the occasional two hours of sleep, I would have dreams he skinned his knees, or the kids at school were mean to him and would wake up in a panic.  I always heard him crying even when he wasn’t. I slept with one eye opened staring at his chest to make sure he was still breathing. I hovered over anyone who was holding him, and often criticized my husbands parenting skills. No one loved my son more than me, so I knew what was best. Or so I thought.

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Truth was, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing either.  It was the blind leading the blind. I was just trying to make it to the next day without losing my sanity. I was exhausted trying to keep up with being a new mom, as well as the person I used to be. Then it hit me – I am not that person anymore and the sooner I learn to let her go, the better off I will be. I can’t stress over trying to be perfect because I’m not. No one is, nor do they expect me to be.

Once I made that commitment, all of the little insignificant nothings didn’t bother me anymore. I was going to have to get used to motherhood along with the worry and guilt that comes with it. It consumed me at first and was quite difficult to embrace. I constantly doubted my actions and myself. That pedicure I used to enjoy now seemed like time I should be spending with my family. Life became an intricate balancing act, but eventually I figured it out. I knew what advice to take and what advice not to take.  I’m pretty sure putting Jack Daniels on my son’s gums when he’s teething was advice I had to turn down. I started feeling more comfortable with my decisions and knew I was doing the best I could.

The lessons I learned were: It’s impossible to give a 100% to everything.  The person who puts the most pressure on you – is you. You might not be able to have it all at once and that’s normal. Something will have to give and you will make sacrifices.  Those sacrifices will be worth giving up although you may not see it now. Becoming a mother will be one of your greatest accomplishments – mistakes and all. As time goes by some fears subside. The ache in your heart becomes one you begin to cherish and the lessons your kids teach you will make you a better parent – and a better person.

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Why You Should Take Pregnancy Photos

I admit I’m a vain person when it comes to taking photos. I even have a side I must take pictures on.  If I can’t take the photo from that angle, I opt out.  Snobby I know, but I don’t like to be captured in time looking like a disaster.  Who does? At least if people see me in person looking like a hot mess, which is a lot by the way, their memory of me will soon fade. Pictures however last for-ev-er; and with all the social media and sharing sites out there your photos can reach thousands of people in seconds.

To quickly elaborate on the origin of my bad-picture phobia: I grew up in the South, we don’t even go to the gas station unless you are dolled up.  That’s the way it is. When you look your best, you feel your best. Even nine years as a Chicagoan, I still never leave the house without mascara and lip gloss on. Those I am taking to the grave with me.  I know I will get some hate mail saying pregnant women are beautiful and I shouldn’t be such a diva. I agree with you and admitted I am a vain b*tch when it comes to photos. Other pregnant women are beautiful and even if I was one of those other women, I feel far from sexy when pregnant.  There is nothing wrong with that, and I am sure I am not alone. If you feel amazing and sexy while pregnant, I commend you and secretly hate you. Truth.

When deciding on whether or not to take pregnancy photos I thought long and hard.  Do I want people to see me looking like an Umpa Lumpa?  Do I want people to see my belly button all stretched out like a bad yoga pose?  Do I want people to see my enormous boobs?  Ultimately I decided to take them because I didn’t take pictures with my first pregnancy and have regretted not doing so.  Back then I was working sixty-plus hours a week and there was always tomorrow. Well, tomorrow came and went and suddenly my baby was here. I missed an opportunity I can never get back.

This time around I wanted to capture the moment- swollen face and all. Ultimately the idea of pregnancy is – beautiful. I loved the outcome and am so glad I took the time, and put aside my southern princess roots, to capture baby Alex in the womb.

I posted them on Pinterest under pregnancy photo ideas and they have received a lot of re-pins. This led me to share with all of you.  My husband took these with our camera, a Nikon D60.  Then I used iPhoto on my laptop to soften them up and add some filters.  Photo shoots and prints are expensive so this was a great, free alternative.  Here’s to women and their baby makers.

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