Mommy Needs A Hug

If you know me, then you might know that we just got back from a vacation in Disney World. Before anyone comes at me about this let me explain a few things. I planned this trip originally for November 2020 and pushed it back to January 2021 as I weighed the decision to continue going. I planned this trip in January 2020, before the pandemic hit and lockdowns etc. I got military tickets and Disney would not refund them so that is $1700 down the tubes. Also, my family is very careful. We don’t go out unless we need something minus a few outdoor trips, the kids don’t come in anywhere with us, we always wear our masks, we sanitize frequently and wash our hands frequently and correctly. On top of that, after weighing pros and cons of going, I felt that Disney World’s precautions made me feel safer than that of anywhere in our local area. And we decided to drive down and back because that seemed like the safer option for us as a family. I really shouldn’t have to explain this to anyone because I put a lot of thought into our decision to still go, but unfortunately I felt I should explain.

Yes, you read that correctly up there. We drove the (what’s supposed to be) 15.5 hours to Disney World, with three kids. This was our first family vacation ever. Last time I went to Disney, Joseph couldn’t come and we only had Mark. We thought that it would be a great idea to just drive through the night to get to Disney because our kids would just sleep and then wake up in Disney with no issues. We thought. Rose slept a lot of the night on the trip down only waking up every time I laid my head down, to scream for a few minutes before going back to sleep for a few hours. Mark slept for a few hours and then was his usual self and woke up at an ungodly time and stayed up for the rest of the trip, but caused no issues. Joey was the most cooperative out of all of them God bless his soul. The only issue we had was that on the way down when we got to the DC area Rose had a blow out and Joey had the closest to a blowout you can get without having one.

We arrived in Disney at a ripe 0930 and luckily got to check into the hotel early as requested, which is really what I was hoping for. We stayed at Art of Animation, which, we stayed at last time and I wanted to share with Joe because I loved it. It’s really such a fun resort for the kids. If you’ve never been, there’s four different sections with different themes. They areas are so accurate it really just transports you into the movies. There are Cars, Finding Nemo, Lion King, and Little Mermaid sections. Cars has this super cool pool area and the characters from the movie scattered throughout the area with very accurate decorations to transform the area. Finding Nemo has the seagulls outside the buildings who you can hear do the “Mine, mine, mine” thing every once in a while. It also has the big pool, water squirts for the kids, a bar, and a playground that’s like playing in the reef. Super cool, we stayed in that area last time. Lion King has the elephant graveyard as a playground, and then Little Mermaid is all the way on the end with a bunch of fun stuff from the movie to look at. It’s a really cool hotel and we decided this time to stay in one of the Cars suites.

The first day went shockingly well with Rose and Mark keeping their mask on the entire time we were at Disney Springs and cooperating pretty much the whole time. Rosie ran around Disney Springs and was just so full of life and excitement and wore herself out. It was great. Honestly the first 4 days were all really good. Obviously there are tantrums every once in a while, because, kids are kids and after being out and about for 6-9 hours it’s pretty exhausting.

For anyone wondering how we got our kids to keep their masks on. They got some really cool masks and got to wear a new one everyday. They got to pick most days which one they would get to wear. We just kept reiterating that they had to keep it on or they couldn’t go on the rides, or the bus, or walk around. We had a little difficulty with Rose keeping hers on as the week progressed because she’s only two. To combat that situation we just kept telling her how important it was. We made her put it on for rides, buses, and all that good stuff, but allowed her a few mask breaks because she just couldn’t handle it anymore. She wore her mask 85-90% of the time which is a lot better than I could have ever expected for a 2 year old to do for a week straight. Mark kept his on except for eating and drinking with little to no issues, which again, is great.

Day 5 and 6 were, to put it nicely, less than great on the tantrum and listening front. A lot more stopping in the middle of the walkway and refusing to move, the days where most of our mask issues happened, our fair share of blowouts, and a peeing our pants issue.

In the last few days Joey had two blowouts, one being while Joe and Mark were in Galaxy’s Edge riding Smuggler’s Run. I was all alone in the bathroom changing this blowout and trying to figure out how to rinse the clothes out without leaving Joey unattended. Thankfully I texted my mom and she came to the rescue and helped. Also thankfully, I pack multiple extra outfits in the diaper bag for emergencies. The good news is that the second I got him settled into his new outfit he pooped again while we were waiting for Muppets 3D. By the time we got out of that show I had a poop to change and Rose had leaked pee through her pants because of her full Pull-Up. In the end, rough in the moment but still a great day at Hollywood Studios.

See the two things that I wanted to do in Disney was eat in Epcot (specifically crepes, I’ve been craving them since I got pregnant with Joey), and mini golf. We tried every night to go to Epcot to get food and every night we failed for some reason. We got distracted or some other reason. Day 6 rolls around and we had tried to go mini golfing which immediately went downhill. Rose wouldn’t let Joe play. Mark likes to play “I win” so he was cheating. By the time we go to the 4th hole I was over it, but then Mark peed his pants on the 5th hole so it ended anyway. We went back to the car to head back to hotel, my dad made a joke and we all had a good laugh and then drove back. My parents went out and I was under no circumstances taking the kids to get crepes this time after our many failed attempts and this being our last chance. My parents came back and watched Mark and Rose (much like his father, Joey goes where the boobs go) while we went to get crepes and try to unwind. We by some miracle made it there and got crepes with 20 minutes to spare before park close. Let me tell you these crepes were well worth the wait. And you know you’ve made it in life when you’re sitting on a park bench in France with the love of your life eating crepes under a street lamp. It was a perfect way to end our trip.

The drive back home was… fun. We made a little detour and went to visit some family while we were around the area. Which was really fun and pulled the whole trip together. Unfortunately, it did add some time onto the drive back making it a whopping 20 hour drive home, with the stops. Little Miss Rosie screamed the entire last 18 hours of the drive because she was so tired but refuses to sleep if she’s not in her bed. Long story short, Rose has a raspy voice currently. She sounds like an old man trying to yell at the kids to get off his lawn. With that said, the drive home was definitely not as smooth as the drive down, but we managed. We made it home in one piece, thankfully, and made it home to a nice clean house. (I highly recommend cleaning your house, catching up on laundry and such, before you go on vacation. Trust me future you will appreciate it.)

I thought at one point that maybe we were crazy to go on vacation with three very small children. And in some moments when we were having rough moments I really really thought we were crazy for doing it. In the end though, it was so incredibly magical seeing our kids faces throughout the trip and the fun they were having. Looking back on it now, it was everything I hoped it would be, and more. Sure we had some of the happiest blowouts on Earth. Sure we had some of the happiest tantrums on Earth. But it all means nothing when you get to see the happiness on your kids faces. That wonder. Getting to see Disney through their eyes truly made it more magical than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Side note: If you’re going, make sure you check out the Baby Care Centers. There is one in every park. They are on the map. They are amazing and so worth it. They have a feeding room (which I surprisingly only used twice and just whipped out a boob willy nilly the rest of the time). They have nice cushioned changing tables in your own private room. They have sinks and a little kitchen area. And if you forgot anything they have diapers, bibs, baby snacks, clothes, formula, you name it there for you to pick up. Seriously, if you’re going, make sure you check it out, it’s such a lifesaver.

We had such a great trip and I hope that if you are questioning taking your small kids you make the jump and go, because it is really such a magical time. And don’t forget to get yourself some ears and a shoulder creature.

Make sure you check out Welcome to all things pretty! – Beauty & The Stitch (beautyandthestitch.com) Rep code: RoseBows will save you!

Alright. I’ve been seeing a lot on social media lately relating to moms that is just, quite frankly, pissing me off. I’m honestly a little heated and I really want to share this with you. Just as a warning I’m very passionate about the topic that will follow so here we go, buckle up friends.

In the past few weeks I have see a lot of judgement regarding young moms. I have seen comments like “having kids is so much worse than (insert completely absurd comparison here)”. I have seen comments that in short say that it’s wrong to aspire to be a mother. It’s wrong to aspire to be a homemaker and wife. And I am here to tell you that those comments are a crock of absolute dog shit.

Lets start with young moms. I understand that this is not the norm currently to be a young mother. I also get that having a baby at an extremely young age is hard. Because being a mother is hard at any age. However, telling a woman in her 20’s who desires to be a mother that she is “too young” is bullshit. She is a grown adult. A woman. A human being that can make her own decision to be a mother. As long as you have the means to support a child, stop telling WOMEN that they are “too young” to have a child. Guess what? Not too long ago it was normal for women to have 3-4 kids by the time they hit their 20’s so stop trying to ostracize women for wanting to, or being, young mothers. You aren’t raising our children. You aren’t feeding them, playing with them, paying for them, or even around them, so stop. Next time you think about judging someone for being a young mother just take a look back at your family tree. I guarantee you won’t have to look too far to see one of your ancestors had a kid between 15 and 18.

Up next on the comment is wrong we have: telling people that having kids is worse than _______. It’s dumb. Having kids is not worse than having a period. Having kids doesn’t ruin your life. Having kids doesn’t stop you from traveling. Having kids doesn’t “ruin your 20’s”. Whatever you’re telling people having kids is going to stop them from doing or having kids is worse than, knock it the fuck off. Having children is hard. It is. It alters things in a lot of ways, yes. You may not be traveling by your own choice, but that doesn’t mean they are ruining anything or you can’t do things. Things are so much more enjoyable for me being able to travel and go on adventures with my kids. My life is so much fuller for it. No I didn’t ruin my 20’s by having my kids. I still can travel and I get to share those moments with my children and it’s great. A comment I actually saw was in regards to children being “way worse” than having a period every month. Fuck off dude. Children may not be for everyone, but if someone wants a child and is ready do not tell them something stupid like “kids are worse than a period”. Are you serious? Grow up!

Aspiring to be a mother. There is not a damn thing wrong with aspiring to be a mother. You don’t have to get a degree before you become a mom. You don’t. Is it nice to have? Sure. But if you aspire to be a wife, homemaker, and mother before you have a degree, or never get a degree, THAT IS OK! It’s also perfectly okay to aspire to be a mother and still want to work. It’s okay to be a homemaker, a wife, a mother, and a career woman. There is not a right or wrong way to become a mother. If you aspire to be a mother that is what you want. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are wrong for wanting to be a mom before you have a degree, or before this or that. Aspiring to be a mom is just as worthy a goal as getting a degree or a high paying job. If anyone tells you it’s not okay you send them over to me, because I will debate them until I’m blue in the face. It’s not okay to shame someone for having a different goal in life than what you or society deems “appropriate”.

On the flip side, don’t let anyone tell you that you’re too old to have kids. 30 isn’t old. Unless a medical professional tells you that your age is dangerous to have children then you’re not too old. I’m tired of people telling people not to have kids young and then two seconds later telling them that now they’re too old. Everyone moves at a different pace in life. People are so worried about others “wasting their 20’s” raising kids and then turn around and tell people that they should have kids now while they’ve decided to travel the world and build a career or a business.

It’s really very hypocritical and I for one, am tired of it. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t tell people they’re too young, then tell them they’re too old. You can’t tell them not to aspire to be a mom and then tell them they have to be a mom. You can’t tell people kids ruin whatever, and then say they’re the greatest gift. You can’t keep telling people to how to live their own lives! Just stop! Everyone moves at a different pace. Everyone has different goals. Everyone has their own life that you have no business putting in your input on. Stop telling people what to do or not, be or not be, and that they’re wrong. It is not your life. I repeat, It. Is. Not. Your. Life.

For those people on the receiving end of these comments. Tell them to screw off. You do you. Don’t feel ashamed because someone feels the need to butt in where they don’t belong. Your life and goals are your own and you don’t need to explain that to anyone. Do not let people try and dictate a life that they are not a part of. You don’t need to fall into societal “norms”. They’re dumb and not needed. Do what makes you comfortable and happy. Whether that be having kids at 20 or 35. Being a stay at home mom or a career mom. Traveling alone or traveling with a your kids and spouse. It is nobody else’s business but yours.

In the end I just want to say that kids don’t ruin your life. Being a parent is what you make of it. If you have it in your head that your kids are ruining your life then that’s on you. It makes me beyond angry when people tell me personally that my kids are in the way of me enjoying my 20’s. I enjoy my 20’s just fine running around in the backyard with my kids and doing all the things I love with my best friend and kids in tow. I love getting to share my 20’s with my kids and I refuse to let anyone make me believe that I’m wrong for having my kids young and absolutely knowing full heartedly that I wanted to be a mother and wife. You will not make me feel bad and I will fight anyone who tries.

Thank you for reading this and if you are one of those people who make those comments, correct yourself. Please and thank you. Be better. Stop shaming women for all their choices and grow up.

This is not your typical mom post by any means. This is not me rambling about being overwhelmed. This is not about my parenting. This is not about mom shaming. This is not any of your typical posts that come from me, but I need to write this down. I feel like a crazy person and this topic is haunting my dreams. Quite literally.

I know that dreams are a window into your subconscious. Your dreams and nightmares are likely trying to tell you something. For that reason most of my nightmares reflect my biggest fears involving my kids. Why my kids? Because I’m more afraid of something happening to them than anything else and my nightmares follow that pattern. Obviously that occasionally changes, but not very frequently and not for long.

I do have a lot more nightmares than dreams. I’ve had nightmares of abductions, house fires, robbers, all your typical fears as a mom. (At least I think, unless one of you tells me I’m crazy.) These fears don’t change. I’ll always be afraid of someone hurting my kids. Lately though, they’ve been a little different and I’m trying to figure out these nightmares.

So last month I had a “theme” for lack of a better word of people hunting down my children and I to hurt us. It was terrifying. It was graphic. And not at all the normal for me. Since then it’s just gotten stranger and more abnormal. My “theme” for this month has been very strange. The characters have changed throughout the month but the theme has stayed the same. And within the past week and a half it has been the same exact nightmare just with different settings. Different houses. Different areas. Same nightmare.

All this month I’ve had nightmares about people in my life getting possessed. Never me, but all of the people who surround me. But not even possessed. It’s like a demon makes an exact replica of that person and hides the actual person somewhere, or is just avoiding them throughout. The demon has that persons face and body, but no their demeanor, which is what ultimately helps me figure out that it’s not the person I know. My parents, Joe, my sister, my niece and nephew, they’ve all been in at least one of these nightmares.

To go into more detail with what’s stumping me though is the recurring one for the past week and a half. The one that’s the exact same nightmare in different settings. I’ll just explain the one I had last night.

So basically Joseph and I were living in this three story house, that also had a basement. Joseph and I went downstairs to the ground floor to get something before bed. In typical fashion our children followed us down and talked our ear off the whole time. I told Joe I was putting the kids to bed and went upstairs with them. The kids had this huge bed that they shared together in what looked like a master suite, which like, is odd but ok. Joey was not there, also, odd. So the three of us were waiting patiently in the kids room with the light on listening to Joe hit some golf balls. Then I heard him out in the hallway talking to children. Now I have had this nightmare before and for whatever reason I knew that in the nightmare that this had happened before. Joseph was telling the kids “what are you doing out here? I thought mommy was putting you to bed. You know you aren’t supposed to be out there”. I opened this giant double door into the hallway and just as I thought Joseph was out there talking to our actual children and the two in the bed were demons. I turned and looked at them and then woke up.

I have no idea what these demons want. I never figure it out. I always wake up before I get to that part. And for whatever reason the demons and possession isn’t even what scares me. I woke up last night after that, woke Joe up to talk it out so maybe I could sleep, but it just kept bugging me. Like I said, the possessions don’t scare me for whatever reason. What scares me is that in the nightmare I don’t know that the demons aren’t my kids. I don’t know that these things are impostors. And that terrifies me and disturbs me.

I would know if it wasn’t my child wouldn’t I? If something ever happened to my kids and someone replaced them I would know wouldn’t I? I’m a mother. I know my kids. I would know that it wasn’t them. I would know if it was in fact not my child standing in front of me right? For some reason this idea is haunting me. I know the likelihood of someone replacing my kids is so unbelievably low, so why does this scare me so much that I wouldn’t know that someone had done it? Is this playing into my fear that this world is such a scary place and children get abducted all the time? Is it because I’ve read one too many story about a child that got abducted and the wrong child was “rescued” and returned to the parents several years later? I don’t know. I really don’t know. But the idea of not knowing if my own kids are standing in front of me or not truly shakes me to my core. What kind of mother doesn’t know her own kids, right?

Ideally, I’d like to stop having nightmares. That’s unlikely though, so right now I just want to figure this out. I want the thought to stop haunting me. I want to figure out the root of this particular nightmare “theme”. This one really has me stumped. What kind of nightmares do other mothers have? Am I a complete weirdo? Are my nightmares like off the wall? What is going on in that brain of mine? What is it trying to tell me? I just need to figure this out, because it’s not the newborn that’s keeping me up at night.

Being a mother of three has proven to be a humbling experience thus far. One second I feel like the best mom in the world and the next I feel like I’m screwing my kids up and they’re never going to forgive me. One day I’ll find myself being so attentive making them these nutritious meals and planning activities and teaching them new things. Then the next day I’m letting them eat cheesecake for dinner and spending all my time trying to catch my breath and do a million things around the house, and only realizing as I lay down for bed that night that I ignored them all day.

When I was parenting two kids pretty much alone, I pretty consistently felt like I had it all under control. At least I made myself think that on the outside even when deep down I felt like I had nothing under control. I made it a point with just Mark and Rose to give them both their own special time, whether it was snuggles, a book, or an activity they liked (dancing mostly). When I found out I was pregnant again I thought “oh it’ll be just as easy to do this with three as it is with the two of them”. I must have forgotten how needy newborns are, or maybe I was just naïve. I kind of feel like I set myself up for failure in not thinking that I would need to change my schedule. Thinking that the same schedule for two would work for three.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m starting to kind of figure it out, but the first few months have been a hard adjustment. Especially with breastfeeding where I’m the sole person who can feed the baby. It’s hard to try and make time for Mark and Rose when at the drop of a hat a small child could be in a full on panic thinking that he’ll never eat again because there wasn’t immediately a titty in his mouth the absolute first second that he thought he might possibly be hungry.

The past couple of weeks I finally starting getting used to giving each child their own personal time when everything in our house starting breaking or needing attention, and life starting happening again. I mean I have had not a thing to do for the past 3ish months other than be a full time mom and wife, so when things started getting busy and complicated my little engine got a wrench thrown into it and it started to sputter. I mean I could only handle so much. So I had just gotten used to giving everyone their time and then had to focus on getting life together. It’s easy to get overwhelmed when things start breaking, you have to cook and clean, there’s kids who need time and attention, a husband who should also get time and attention, and just generally being a homemaker with other stuff going on.

So this week I’ve been trying so hard to get back into it. I’ve been trying to give Joe time to take the two older kids out to play so I can have some quality time with Joey. In turn I also take time to snuggle with just Mark, or Rose separately or do an activity. This week I’ve made time to dance with Rose and teach her the alphabet. I’ve also taken the time to play cars with Mark and read some books to him. I also think it’s still really important to spend time with Mark and Rose without Joey. So tonight we plan on having a sleepover in our room in a tent. They’re really excited which makes me feel like I’m succeeding today.

The past weeks have also been really important to me to have time as a whole family. We have been looking at Christmas lights. We have gone to the zoo. We like to go on walks as a family, whether at the seawall or just on the path behind our house. We’ve also been spending a lot of time in the backyard as a family. I think it’s really important to nurture all of the relationships in the family as well as build a new, healthy family dynamic. Still, sometimes I feel like I’m still a little in over my head as I have to adjust to a new family dynamic myself.

Some things specifically I find myself struggling to manage adjusting from two to three. We were potty training Rose before Joey arrived and it’s been really hard for me to give that the focus it needs and deserves. I also find myself losing my patience with Mark particularly and it makes me feel like a complete failure as a mom. I hate losing my patience with Mark and Rose, but particularly Mark because since he is older I convinced myself that he knows better. When in reality, he’s still only 4 years old and doesn’t really know that much better. In general, losing your patience with your kids as a mom is kind of crushing, but when I realize I’m losing it more with one over the other (and sometimes I’m rougher on Rose too) it feels really shitty.

After me saying all that, this may come as a shock, I genuinely believe that it’s been an easier adjustment period to go from two to three than any other adjustment. Adjusting from being a married couple to parents was so incredibly difficult. Then adjusting to a family of three to four got so much easier. Which seems silly thinking about how having a toddler and a newborn was easier than just focusing on a newborn, but I don’t make the rules, it was just easier for us. And even sillier, it’s even easier to have two toddlers and newborn than it was to have one toddler and a newborn. Maybe I should take up juggling.

Anyway, I’m still adjusting to having three kids and some days are better than others. Some days I feel like super mom and other days I feel like I’d be better off taking a vacation and letting the kids have some time away from me. Some days I can make three square meals a day from scratch and others I skip meals and everyone else gets peanut butter sandwiches for two of the three meals. And that’s fine. Maybe that’s just a part of motherhood that I never noticed before until now. Now that I’m taking time to reflect on things I feel like I’m noticing more.

If you have three or more kids what are some things you’ve noticed when transitioning to the addition of a child? What helps you make special time with each of your kids? What are some one on one activities you recommend? I’m hoping that I can get back into my routine here soon and feel like a more consistently good mom. I’m far too hard on myself and I realize that when my kids just look at me like I’m the best thing since sliced bread, even on my bad days. Here’s to balancing better and feeling better about myself.

I’m sorry if this was very rambling. Bear with me please. And please please please if you have any advice please share. Or need advice. I’m an open book and my Instagram, email, or Facebook is always open.

First off, welcome everyone to December and we are almost to the end of 2020. I hope that everyone’s healthy physically, mentally, and emotionally. If you’re having a hard time I’m always here to help and make sure you’re practicing proper self care. For those moms out there, just a reminder that you need time without your children sometimes and self care is more than just taking a shower or practicing basic hygiene. And I hope that everyone’s enjoying the holiday prep as much as you can. Now to the main course.

Gender disappointment. It’s real. It’s OK. And I’m going to talk about it.

Now I know what some of you are thinking “children are a blessing how could you possibly be disappointed by their gender?” And that’s completely true. Children are an incredible blessing and at the end of the day we’re all just happy to have healthy babies. However, sometimes that initial shock of finding out the gender and the baby not being what you expected or maybe were hoping for, can kind of be disappointing. It’s not that you love your child any less because they were a boy or a girl, but if you have three boys and were hoping to finally get a girl it can be a little sad to see that not happen.

I’ll speak on my personal experience. When I first got pregnant for the first time I had this gut feeling that we were having a boy, and we did. Now I always thought that I would only have boys so when I got pregnant for the second time and I got that gut feeling that I was having a girl it honestly got me really hopeful because I didn’t think that I would ever have that. I am by no means a girly girl, but it’s really fun to dress up little girls. And Rose just so happened to be way easier to this point (knock on wood) than Mark was up to her age, and he just gets harder. So when I got pregnant for the third time, I’ll be honest with myself and all of you, I was hoping for another little girl. I kept thinking how easy Rose was and how much fun it is to put cute dresses and bows on her and just play dress up with her.

My gut feelings hadn’t been wrong yet, and a feeling I couldn’t shake was that baby #3 would be a bouncing little boy. And I went to that ultrasound while she searched around for all his limbs being accounted for, still hoping deep down that there was a chance it was a girl. When the ultrasound tech told me that my gut was right and I was indeed having another little boy, my stomach dropped a little. I felt bad even thinking it for a second, but I was a little disappointed. Still, I pulled myself together inside and walked out to my mom’s car and we drove back home to reveal it to the kids, Joe, and my mom.

I secretly grabbed that golf ball with that little blue mark on it and we picked our “team boy” and “team girl” stickers and headed to the backyard. I hyped everyone up and Joe hit the golf ball revealing the blue powder inside that confirmed to him and the family that we were having a baby boy, a little baby Joey.

See we had discussed the previous night that both Joseph and I were still holding out hope that baby would be another little girl. So I could see on his face the slight disappointment that I had also seen reflected back in the mirror. Still, we put on a smile and hugged each other, hugged the kids, and shared the news with family (many of whom didn’t even know I was pregnant until that day).

While we were disappointed and it’s OK to be disappointed, within a matter of hours we were both over the moon excited. At the end of the day we were happy to be welcoming a healthy baby. A healthy baby BOY to our growing family. What a blessing a healthy baby is and at the end of the day I wouldn’t change having a baby boy for the world. Joey is exactly what we needed and I’m so glad that I have his tiny little face to see everyday. Babies are blessings, and while gender disappointment is real and it’s fine to have, as long as you love that baby when it arrives none of that matters.

I’m also aware that some people may be more disappointed than others. We went into baby #3 with a boy and a girl, so no matter what the gender we would have a “tie breaker”. I had a boss that had two girls and after his wife getting pregnant with a third girl, he was a little disappointed. Obviously still excited, but after two girls he was hoping for a son. I also have a friend who had two boys and after getting pregnant with her third, was hoping for a little girl. If you’re still reading this and thinking I’m a terrible human for feeling disappointed for a slight moment just think for second. Take this for example: you have 8 kids, all girls. Your wife, or you, gets pregnant with your ninth child and you find out it’s baby girl #9. You’d probably be a little upset for a second. This situation happens a lot (not usually on that size scale, but you get my point) and we all feel a little bad being disappointed, but it’s fine to feel that way as long as you get past it. It’s normal.

I wanted to write this post to let you all know that you’re normal. There is nothing wrong with feeling a little down for a moment about what you’re having. Some of you may disagree with me. Some of you may think I’m terrible for thinking this way. Some of you may have never experienced this. But for those of you who have, or who will experience this one day, this one’s for you. You. Are. Normal. You don’t have to feel guilty about it. You don’t have to feel like a terrible human. You don’t have to look back at your genuine feelings and feel bad about it. It’s how you felt. At the end of the day as long as you love your child with all your heart no matter what, then that moment of disappointment that disappeared doesn’t matter.

Boy am I glad that you guys aren’t waiting for me to write this in real time or I’m not on some kind of live platform. I just had to take a 15 minute “break”. I say it like that because when I say “break” I mean that my potty training daughter just pooped in her Pull Up and then went into the bathroom and tried to go potty while Joe was rocking Joey to sleep. Needless to say she was covered in poop, the bathroom was covered in poop, the floor was then covered in poop because I had to clean her up. The bath had to be filled and baths given. A shit storm if you will. I may have just jinxed myself previously in this post in saying that Rose was easier than Mark.

Anyway, gender disappointment is real. It’s OK. If you’ve ever experienced or will experience it, don’t feel bad or guilty as long as you love your kid. If you ever want to talk about it, know that a lot of people experience it, myself included, and I’m more than willing to chat with you about it if you’d like.

Stay safe. Stay healthy. Remain calm. If you need to talk about anything or would like me to talk about anything, let me know. Happy holiday season!

I just wanted to take the time to write a quick post today. With it being Thanksgiving today I want to give some special thanks and talk about what I’m thankful for.

First of all, I am thankful for each and every one of you that reads my blog. It means the world to me to get to go on the journey of motherhood with you all. I love giving any advice I can give, and I’m so grateful to that I get to share so much with you. It’s amazing to know that all these thoughts I have that I thought I was alone in, a lot of you share the same sentiments. I am really just so grateful for the support I’ve been given from the beginning of this blog journey. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and you enjoy a yummy meal. You deserve it!

Second, I want to thank my husband. We have had a rough year. We have had many a broken appliance. We have had attitude issues from our toddlers. We had to deal with a pandemic and me being pregnant on top of it. We had a lot of relationship growth that we had to go through this year as well as a lot of personal growth. Through all the struggles we have had this year, I am so thankful that you were here walking by my side. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, and I wouldn’t have wanted to do any of it without you by my side. You annoy the crap out of me sometimes and sometimes make me feel under appreciated, but even on our bad days I choose you over anyone else. Thank you for being my best friend, my rock, and the best daddy to our kids. I’m so incredibly thankful for you and the support you gave me this year (especially in the delivery room). I love you.

I am thankful for my three beautiful children. You guys make me want to pull my hair out, I’ll admit it. You have an attitude that is unmatched (Rose), emotions that are so strong (Mark), and a strong set of lungs (Joey), but even for all the bad you three bring so much good. So much happy. You have made one of the worst years I have ever had into such an amazing one. You kept me smiling, you kept me playful, you kept me on my toes and always gave me a reason to get up and do something. I love the three of you so very much and am so grateful for how you care for Daddy, me, and each other. I am so very blessed with the three of you, and so very blessed to have welcomed Joseph into our fun filled family dynamic. You three are most perfect three things that I’ve ever done. I’ve gotten a lot wrong in life, but never the three of you and I am so thankful to have been blessed with you, and that you chose me to be your mommy.

This one specifically to my mom. I am beyond thankful for you, this year as well as every year before it. You are kind. You are caring. You are compassionate. You are so helpful. You love me when I can’t love myself. You are always there for me to talk to. I said it before. This was an incredibly hard year for my family, but you made it a little bit easier for us. You always drop everything to come help us and you always have. You dropped your entire week to come here and watch our kids so Joseph could do his homework. You dropped everything to watch the kids while I was getting induced. You cook for me. You have cleaned my entire house. You help me no matter what it is I need. You have been my shoulder to cry on. You have been the arms that hold me when I need it. There is nothing like a mother’s love and I’m glad that you are mine. We have had our fair share of arguments this year but at the end of it you still show up for me and I can’t thank you enough for that. I am so thankful for you and all you do. You are the single best human being that I have ever met and I love that you treat Joseph and our kids like they are your own. You have always, and will always, be my best friend forever. I love you mommy.

Dad. Oh daddy. I know you probably won’t read this but I’ll say it anyway. Thank you for all you do for us too. I know you have a lot on your plate, yet you still make time for us, and I will never forget that. You make me smile when you compliment my food. I love to see you play with the kids and it made me so happy when you sat a read a book to them. I appreciate you cutting our lawn more than you’ll ever know. And I am thankful for the times you tell mommy to come see us when she’s questioning it for whatever thing she has to do that day. You never miss a big event and that is something I will never forget. I am so thankful for you, even if I don’t tell you enough.

To the rest of my family and friends, I hope you have an absolutely wonderfully holiday, you truly deserve it. I have the best family a girl could hope for and I am so incredibly thankful for that.

Thank you to everyone who has supported my family and I in this incredibly tough year. My heart is so full today. No matter how insignificant you think the support was just know it doesn’t go unnoticed. And I will remember it forever. I know I don’t tell people nearly enough. Even every single day is not enough so thank you. Thank you all again for reading and continuing to support my blog. Happy Thanksgiving and big hugs from me to you.

What are you thankful for today?

Your thankful motherhood introvert

Please excuse my delay in writing. It was a rough couple of weeks, as you can probably tell from my previous blog posts. And it just kept getting rougher. I found myself crying on the floor over a baby sock because I was overwhelmed so we have been away and then when we got back the heater broke, I had laundry to catch up on (I still haven’t caught up), no sleep and not enough coffee because 5 people in one tiny room, a mouse and setting up Terminix coming out, an ER visit for Rose eating toothpaste, and a case of thrush for me and Joey. Busy week. It still hasn’t started looking up but I won’t get into that, just yet at least.

AAAAAAAnywho.

The holidays are difficult. They’re financially, mentally, and emotionally straining. This isn’t a mom specific difficulty. It’s hard for single folks, newlyweds, and families. It’s just hard in different ways and I’m finding it hard to believe that the holidays ever get easier, honestly.

First off, the holidays bring with it daylight savings time. It’s hard to stay motivated and cheery when it gets dark before dinner. Then, there’s the financial burden that the holidays place on a lot of us. You have presents for God knows how many people, then as a military family or even just someone not living at home you have plane tickets or gas to drive where you need to be. Not to mention the actual stress of traveling during the holidays. The traffic, driving or airport. This year in particular is going to be hard for the holidays. A lot of people are already struggling financially with the shut downs at the beginning of the year and more shut downs looming. Traveling this year, if it even happens, is going to miserable. Then worrying about the potential of getting COVID after the holidays and the inevitable boom in cases post holiday.

When you’re single the holidays for a lot of single folks means getting bombarded with “when are you going to get a *significant other*” and other questions regarding your life and life choices. That in and of itself gives people anxiety. No one wants to field all those questions while they’re trying to enjoy the holidays. (cue single folks getting extremely drunk so they don’t have to) I can’t personally relate, but I’m sure that just gets worse the older you get.

Then you finally found your special someone and you take them home for the holidays. Now you have to field the “when are you getting married” “is it serious” questions. (Cue you and your significant other getting drunk to deal with questions) Again, I’m sure this gets worse the older you get.

Finally, you get married and you go to both of your families houses for the holidays because, honestly, you don’t have any reason not to and it’s nice to see everyone. Depending on your family and how long you’ve been married you field another string of questioning. You know where this is going. “When are you two going to have babies?” Wildly inappropriate honestly, with the possibility of infertility or baby loss. (You don’t know what people are going through)

If you do welcome a little blessing into the world the holidays really step it up a notch. As a mother and a wife, a military member to boot, I can really understand how stressful this gets. When you have kids the holidays get a little bit harder to manage. It gets harder to do it all and at some point you have to make your own traditions. With small children it’s not always realistic to go to everyones family, or even anyone’s family, for the holidays. And it’s more important that the holidays are special for those kids.

It is so much work to make the holidays magical. Once you become a parent you realize very quickly that the holidays were magical because you had a mom who loved you very much and did everything she could to make it special and see your eyes light up with the holiday magic. I bend over backwards to make the holidays special for my kids, and honestly Joseph too. I buy all the presents for everyone, Joe’s family and my own. I put a lot of thought into it and I really like to get people things I know they’ll love which is stressful for me because I want the presents to be perfect. Then I set up all the decorations so I can watch the kids eyes light up when they see the Christmas tree and all the ornaments. Then I wrap all the presents and I slip them under the tree and set up the stockings. I plan out what is for the stockings and what is from Santa and what is from us, in addition to wrapping the presents from family we won’t see.

It usually falls on me to make the plan of where we will be going and seeing during the holidays. This is so mentally draining for me because I don’t want anyone to feel left out or get mad, but we just can’t do it all. Especially with three small kids now. It’s stressful trying to make a plan for the holidays knowing in the back of my mind that someone is going to be unhappy with us no matter what, and if they’re not and we do get it all in then it’s physically exhausting for all of us and I don’t get to enjoy the holidays at all. Still, I make the plan for the actual holiday and the days leading up to it. I try and get in looking at Christmas lights, hot cocoa and Christmas movies, and doing something special just our family before the craziness starts.

Making holiday magic is incredibly draining. Making plans, thinking of personalized gift ideas, buying the gifts, wrapping them, decorating, and making everyones family happy, which for me seems like an impossible feat these days. It’s stressful and the days leading up to Christmas I am overwhelmed and panicking and the days following I just collapse into myself. This isn’t even including Thanksgiving, which for the past few years we have done at home alone, with my parents coming at some point, and me cooking a full Thanksgiving dinner. Which I’m sure is upsetting for a lot of people that we do it alone, but I just do not have the mental, physical, or emotional capacity to do it and I hope they can understand that.

My favorite Christmas this far has been the one where we stayed at home. I’m sorry if that seems selfish, but it was my favorite. We made cookies on Christmas Eve and decorated them then watched movies and drank cocoa. Then on Christmas Day we woke up and opened presents, made pizzas for lunch, and I made a special Christmas dinner. My favorite by far.

We are desperately trying to create our own traditions these days. Which in itself is kind of difficult because I want to build traditions that we can sustain forever. What we have landed on thus far is getting the kids hot cocoa and pajamas that they get to open on Christmas Eve morning. Joseph and I also get pajamas, they don’t have to be matching but we have done matching family pajamas. We put cookie and milk in the fridge and leave Santa a note that it’s in there. Then we go to my families house and partake in all those family traditions. When we return home I sneak into the house and drink the milk and eat the cookie and leave the plate on the table for the kids to see and then put out Santa presents. It’s important to me that our kids only get one small present from Santa because I don’t ever want other children to feel like they weren’t important enough to get a lot of a big present from Santa. Then the kids come into the house and we open presents and then we get to relax the rest of the day and play with presents they got. And that’s it for our own concrete traditions. I sometimes make cookies though. I really like cookies. And hot cocoa. I like to slip hot cocoa in there if I can. I deserve it.

What are some of your traditions? What plans work for you? Am I crazy in thinking that the holidays are stressful? Do you go to more than one place for the holidays or stay home? How do you handle being military during the holidays if you’re a military family? Let me know.

With love,

Your stressed out motherhood introvert

P.S. The attached gingerbread house was made several weeks after Christmas, it didn’t get eaten, and the icing wouldn’t stick at all. I also don’t remember ever making a gingerbread house before that one.

• 

I’m going to take another blog post, another day, to be really real with you guys. I had another hard, shitty week. Not for the same reasons, but crappy just the same. I’m felt less alone this week, but another hard week, and when I started writing this it was Thursday if that gives you any indication of where this week is at.

I haven’t been getting much sleep. And I know a lot of people are going to think “well you have a newborn so that’s to be expected no reason to complain”. The thing about that though is, he’s been sleeping. He’s been sleeping really well actually (knock on wood). I however have not been sleeping well. The past week or so the baby has been having 4-6 hour stretches of sleep with me, more often than not, having to wake him up to eat so that he doesn’t get dehydrated or overly hungry and hurt my nipples. I mean, good for that guy that he gets to sleep though am I right?

So I haven’t been getting sleep and then on top of that, I had my service wide exam on Wednesday. For those who don’t know what that is, (I’m expecting that’s most of you), it’s a test you have to take that ultimately determines if I get promoted (advance) to make more money. So I had this test on Wednesday that I had to study for. I had studied a lot before maternity leave, but obviously hadn’t really had much time to after the baby arrived. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday I kept trying to study to no avail. I really tried, but it is incredibly difficult to do when your husband has homework, your two toddlers decide to alternate between screaming and sitting next to you asking endless questions, and you have a hungry and sometimes grumpy baby that doesn’t like to be put down. On top of that one of those days, an incident with a woman in the CG getting masted came to light that really tore me for reasons that I probably shouldn’t get into and probably shouldn’t even bring it up at all but, it really upset me and made my week worse. Anyway, the less I got to study for my test the more stressed I became about how I would do on Wednesday when the test day rolled around. Then Tuesday Joe managed to distract the kids for a little while in the guest room/playroom so I could study. That made me feel really guilty though so I couldn’t focus as much I wanted to, but I tried. Baby Joey was also cluster feeding on Tuesday topping the day off with over 3 hours of feeding when he usually averages a little less than 2.5 hours of feeding. I also had my postpartum appointment that day which I guess was good because my doctor is awesome and I got cleared and then went on my merry little way. I tried to study again Tuesday night and early Wednesday morning but didn’t really get much done. The good news I guess is that I feel like I did ok on my test, especially considering the handfuls I was juggling.

We also decided this week to completely cut out TV for the kids, so they’ve been decidedly more rambunctious and rebellious. It has made life harder to not be able to just toss them in front of the TV for a break sometimes, and we aren’t those parents that are completely against screen time, but it needed to be done. Let me explain. Mark is OBSESSED with TV. He wasn’t playing with toys anymore, wasn’t doing his learning activities, didn’t want to play outside, and didn’t want to sleep. He just wanted TV. It was at a point where he would wake up at 4 AM just to sneak out to the living room and watch TV and he wouldn’t stop watching all day despite us turning it off he would just turn it back on. He’s a very intelligent child so it was time to knock that off and we have to do things with him full swing one way or the other or he doesn’t get it. So we decided it was best to just take a break so maybe he can get out of this phase and back into what he used to enjoy doing. It also opened up a door for us to spend more actual quality time together, sit and talk to each other, really enjoy each other’s company, have fun, and have some family time. I’ll also admit that Mark’s Netflix usage is really annoying because he feels the need to pick a new show every 20 minutes so my “continue watching” list is like 12 pages long.

Anyway, while I was relieved my test was over on Wednesday night, we had a couple of incidents that really put a damper on that night. First off, I was exhausted and have been getting terrible headaches for weeks with no medical explanation, though I think it’s probably due to the lack of sleep. So I’m at home, tired and relaxing with the kids while Joe is shooting golf balls in the garage. Marks starts acting all crazy, not listening, and pulling dangerous stunts off the couch so I yelled at him, which made the baby start screaming bloody murder because his poor little ears couldn’t take the sound. So now I’m feeling bad for losing my cool when Rose accidentally smacks the baby in his soft spot while flailing her arms around. Now he’s crying harder, obviously, and I’m feeling like the worst mom in the world. I call Joe back into the house and start going through my mental checklist of steps to makes sure the baby is ok. His eyes are dilating fine, he stopped crying, he seemed completely normal and fell back asleep within like 5 minutes unfazed, but then I touched his soft spot to check it. It felt really caved in to me so I immediately called the doctor who pretty much told me he should be fine, babies are resilient and to just feed him and keep an eye on him. I tried to feed him and he wouldn’t eat and his soft spot really just didn’t feel right to me. Now I’m panicking, I’m crying, I’m the absolute worst mom alive. I set alarms for every hour and a half all night to make sure he was ok and not getting dehydrated. He was fine, but I was absolutely exhausted come Thursday morning.

Thursday morning rolls around and I got like maybe an hour of sleep after everyone woke up before Mark decided to stomp around outside my bedroom door to wake me up and then I got greeted with a child wanting a boob. I went through all day exhausted despite having three large coffees. By Thursday night around 8 or 9 PM, I really was just not feeling well. I was feeling really weak and ended up having a slight fever of 99.7 before bed. Really just not doing great but waking up every few hours to feed the baby anyway, obviously because he still needs to eat and breastmilk shares antibodies so I hear so it was important for me to know he was getting my antibodies while I was sick. The next day I felt really sick and was in bed until about 8 or 9 PM again and Joe was on his own for the most part, at least with the older two, the majority of the day. Luckily by bedtime, my fever was gone and I was feeling pretty great, aside from being tired, again. But a special thank you to whoever got me sick ( I don’t this person or their name) in the one time that I left my house and didn’t wear a mask so that I could take my test without having fogged up glasses (we were like 4 feet apart and were allowed to take off our masks for the test so don’t yell at me I’m literally so cautious all the time except this one occasion so that I could see). What a great time. Great people.

Friday wasn’t a great day to start off with so I guess being sick was just the icing on the cake. See, we lost my grandpa on that day 15 years ago and I always take it really hard. It’s a sad day for me. A day I still mourn on. A day I think too much and cry too hard. So being sick really just topped it off for me. Friday just really sucked. I knew going into the week it was going to suck, but it was obviously worse than anticipated.

When Saturday rolled around I was hopeful that I would have one good day. Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out that way. I don’t want to discuss but it just wasn’t a good day for me. I ended the week tired and just completely ready for the week to be over. I’m glad that I had Joe to hold my hand through this one because thankfully that’s all I needed this time. Here’s to this week to come being better I guess. Here’s to no incidents, more sleep, and just an all together better week. And if you too had a bad week last week, I hope this one is better for you too. Whether a good or bad week last week, I think we all deserve a good one this week. A relaxing one.

Much love and much luck,

Your exhausted motherhood introvert

Let’s talk about being pregnant during a pandemic. Because it kind of sucked. Like honestly, it really blew and no one should have to do what so many women had, and still have, to do. It’s not cool to have to go through such a happy moment in life alone. It’s not cool to ever have to go through it alone, pandemic or not, so it sucks that we all had to go through what should be one of the happiest events of our lives with virtually no one there. Appointments-alone. Ultrasounds-alone. For some, labor-alone.

We found out in January that I was pregnant. I couldn’t get a referral to an OB until I got my pregnancy confirmed by the clinic and then again by a gynecologist. So at about 6 weeks, the beginning of February, I had a gynecologist appointment and an ultrasound shortly following for dating. I went to both alone, because it didn’t seem like that big of a deal when I knew I had a bunch of other appointments and a gender ultrasound for him to be at. And luckily, everything looked ok and I wasn’t finding out bad news at the dating scan like so many women have been forced to find out alone since the onset of COVID. Had I known how the rest of my pregnancy was going to go I would have made sure that Joe was at these appointments though.

You see, Joe missed out on the majority of appointments with both of my previous two pregnancies. He was underway or on duty for most of them. He went to 1 ultrasound and maybe a total of 5 OB appointments between my first two pregnancies. That being said, I was so excited that he was going to be here to experience all my appointments and this awesome life transition with me this time. I was beyond ecstatic. Over the moon even, that my life partner, my best friend, would finally get to experience this with me. And then the whole pregnancy, the plan, got flipped upside down (cue Fresh Prince theme song).

I was scheduled for my first OB appointment around 12 weeks. That’s pretty typical of my usual experience, maybe a little later but not too bad so it didn’t bother me at all. Now I got to 12 weeks at April 3, so you can just imagine the turn this going to take. By the time my first appointment rolled around lockdowns had started and we were full on, in the shit. The game completely changed.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was transferred off of the boat that I was on and to my current unit. A land unit that could, and was willing (thankfully) to accommodate for me and my pregnancy. I reported there on March 17. By the end of my first day at my new unit we got the news that we were shifting the schedule and it was determined that for the safety of myself and my unborn child, I would not be coming into work until further notice. (At this point as many of you know there was little to no research on the effects of COVID on pregnant women and unborn baby, still really isn’t too much research.) I was very cautious, some would say overly, (still am) due to being pregnant. I did not leave the house at all until my first appointment. Joe even only left the house one time to go out for groceries and when he got back I practically made him hose himself off. I turned on the shower and sink before he even walked into the house so it was ready. He walked in and immediately stripped and put his clothes in the washer, washed his hands, and showered. Followed by me sanitizing all the doorknobs, light switches, garage door button, his car, his shoes, and anything else he could have possibly touched before I would even look at him. I was VERY cautious.

Like seriously I was very careful. I can’t stress this enough. Despite that, appointment day showed up and I took my temperature when I woke up. Then I took my temperature again before I left the house just to make sure. I used three different thermometers that all read the same thing and I made a note that my temperature was 97.8, normal. I was very paranoid despite my caution so I wanted to be safe, and then I was on my way. It was a cold day that day so I had a hoodie on with the hood up and my heat in the car on full blast because I’m a pansy and don’t deal with cold well. I got there and confidently stood there as they took my temperature, because I knew it was fine since I had just gone through all that before leaving the house. They then told me I had a 100.1 temperature and proceeded to kick me out of the office, my first OB appointment.

At this point, I’m devastated. I’m here at the doctor alone, after not being seen for 6 weeks, not knowing if the baby was ok, and I get kicked out. I called my mom, I called Joe, I’m panicking that something could be wrong with the baby and now I won’t know for another two weeks (unless they kick me out again). Through tears I drive 30 minutes home without my heat or hood on, get out of the car and go inside to wash my hands. I proceeded to take my temperature again with the 3 thermometers, which came up at 97.8 again, normal, and my temperature just magically went up 3 degrees and back down in a matter of 45 minutes? Not likely. (I took my temperature every morning and night for 3 days, all normal.) So now I’m pissed! I understand precautions but it really didn’t seem like rocket science to me that I was wearing a hoodie with the hood up and the heat on full blast could have been the reason my temp was so high when I got there. So I’m pissed that now I’m going to go 8 weeks with no medical care for no reason other than being cold on the way there and doing what I needed to to be warm in the car. That in itself turned what was supposed to be a happy check up and pregnancy with little bean into a sad and panicked venture alone.

So 14 weeks rolls around and the entire time leading up to this I’m reluctant to even go again because I don’t want that experience again. But I truck myself the 30 minutes there for the safety of the baby, with a tank top on and the windows open the whole way, because I’m *petty*. I go in, mask donned, by myself. The nurses keep their distance like everyone has the plague, which I understand why but it still is strange. They mumble their instructions under their mask before hand sanitizing and slumping away, very impersonal. When the doctor came in she kept her distance too. She came in and stood across the room from me, only coming closer to hear the heartbeat and hand me genetic testing paperwork, careful not to touch my hands at all. A very sad, lonely, cold exchange in comparison to how these appointments usually go. I feel for moms having their first ever OB appointments and this is what their normal is. Going a whole pregnancy so distant from everyone, not getting to build that normal doctor patient relationship.

If you’ve ever been pregnant you likely know that your appointments are typically spaced 4 weeks apart and then sometime around 28-30 weeks you got to 2-3 weeks apart until 35-36 weeks when you start going every week. Well being pregnant during COVID that is no longer the standard for a lot of people. In my experience, I had my appointment at 14 weeks then not again until 22 weeks with an anatomy scan at 20 weeks. Then my next appointments were 29 weeks, 33 weeks, 35,36, etc. This spacing made me, personally, very uncomfortable. I was worried constantly that something would be wrong and I wouldn’t know for a long time, and then when I did fine out I would be alone. I honestly can not imagine being pregnant with a rainbow baby and barely getting medical care in the first and second trimesters. I can’t imagine the amount of panic that one who has had trouble conceiving or suffered from pregnancy loss must have felt/feel during this. Not knowing if this miracle rainbow baby was ok or not for 6+ weeks at a time. It was miserable for me, uncomfortable for me, not ideal for me, so I honestly can not imagine and I truly sympathize for all the women that are going/have gone through this during the pandemic.

Giving birth this time around was also a little different in my opinion. I didn’t by any means have a terrible birthing experience but it definitely wasn’t my typical experience either. First off, the mask while in labor is kind of a bummer. I know a lot of people are lenient about it because you’re pushing out a human, like my medical team was lenient after I got my test results, but I have also heard a lot of people having to labor/deliver with a mask on which totally sucks. I completely understand wearing a mask until your COVID test comes back, but beyond that, eh. Pushing a baby out with a mask on kind of dampens the experience. Speaking of COVID tests, it’s definitely not great to get a giant Q-tip shoved up your nose during labor. There’s enough pain that that is really just the cherry on top of a shit storm. Again, luckily I was not in labor when I got mine due to being induced, but that is not typically the case for women in the delivery room. It did really blow for me having to get my second COVID test after really hoping that I would never need another one ever again.

So your in this room, wearing your mask, people coming in and out so you don’t really get much chance to take your mask off for God knows how many hours for some people, get a Q-tip shoved up your nose and now you’re waiting for results (mine took like 3.5 hours to get). Then, again, everyone is a little more distant (my opinion). It’s weird not getting to see people’s faces that will be looking at your vagina and watching a literal human being come out of your body, but I digress. And for me, it was weird to only get to have one support person. My parents have been in the room for delivery both previous times, with my mom being my biggest help during my labors, so that was definitely an adjustment for me. Last, but not least, in the long list of reasons COVID ruins a pregnancy, no visitors. It was kind of nice for the first few hours to not have visitors, I won’t lie, but also really strange and really lonely. I would have liked nothing. more than to see Mark and Rose walk into that room to meet their baby brother. They have a way of making me feel better when I’m hurting too that would have been really nice at that time. It was such a special moment that I was looking forward to that I felt like we, as a family, got robbed of. It is obviously still great, and special, for them to meet their baby brother at home, but not quite the same. I missed my kids too, and it was kind of sad to have been a family of 5 for that hospital time without them there with us.

I could have never anticipated being pregnant and delivering during a pandemic. A lot of us, who got pregnant prior to the pandemic, could not have guessed this would happen. There was no way to know. It took so many magical moments and turned it into lonely doctor appointments, no baby showers, no special sibling meetings, and very strange delivery and recovery experiences. I feel for all the moms out there who experienced and continue to experience this. This is something that a lot of people won’t understand when moms say that this wasn’t their ideal pregnancy. I feel for first time moms who think this is normal. For moms having their last baby who don’t get to end it on a high note, with a normal pregnancy. I feel for those having rainbow babies who don’t get to share these special moments with their partners. I feel for those who have to suffer infant loss, alone, without their support system and have to find out that unfortunate news without someone by their side to hold them and help them. Sitting alone in an ultrasound room, or an exam room, by themselves finding out the most devastating news of their lives.

I wish that Joe could have experienced this all with me for the first time like he should have been able to, like we were so excited to, after missing the first two. Pregnancy during pandemic kind of sucked, and I’m just glad that it’s over and I get this beautiful child after such an unfortunately lame experience. What a beautiful outcome to such a horrible OB and pregnancy experience, alone and isolated from the world. The best thing to come out of a pregnancy during this pandemic are all these beautiful children. Thankful for baby Joey through it all, but fuck off 2020.

• 

I feel alone.

When I first became a mother I completely lost myself in motherhood. I threw myself into 110% from the beginning. I enjoy being a mom. I truly enjoy being a mom and I absolutely believe that I was put on this Earth to be a mother. But I jumped in head first into the ocean of motherhood and I just got crushed by a wave some time on the way in and never came back up for air. From the moment I became a mother all I have been is a devoted wife and mother. I became a crappy friend to a lot of people and I have no idea what I like to do for myself because I just gave up on it. I got so focused on being a mom that I think I gave away a piece of myself. I feel like a lot of mothers do the same thing. We get caught up in this cycle of being everything for everyone else that we just never catch up enough to be something for ourselves. And like I said I love being a mom, I just feel a little lost right now.

I have watched my husband consistently pursue some hobby that he is interested in for himself. I guess it’s just easier being a dad in that way. You can put in a lot less effort as a father and get absolutely praised, but being a mother you constantly give your all and manage a home, a job, kids, and a husband and you get told to try harder. (In our household it’s not that off balanced anymore with Joe staying home, but that’s a year out of the 4.5 years we have been parents.) It’s a lot easier to take time for yourself and have a hobby when you get praised and worshipped by everyone for doing the bare minimum of parenting.

It’s great for Joe that he gets to do something for himself because I acknowledge that he needs time away too. It’s important for him to get out of the house and enjoy himself, kid-free. But we became parents and he was completely centered on himself and his own free time. He constantly had a hobby he was doing. Or more than one hobby. I watched him do hockey, golf, read, go drinking with friends, go to hockey games, and smoke cigars. He always has something or is talking to me about how he wants to go do something. He even gets time to do things to better himself. He got to go to therapy, he had an internship, and he has college classes. And all of those things take a lot of alone time for him to succeed in too. I have sat back and watched him through all his hobbies, constantly encouraged him when he took time for himself, and just generally been supportive for all these years. I have helped him through some really hard times to help him into a better headspace. I have done everything I could possibly do to support him and be the best wife and mother I could be. But in turn, I never got afforded those same opportunities. I never got the same support to do things for myself. I never got the time to do anything for myself. My “free” time has consisted of laundry, dishes, keeping a clean home, and being a mother and wife for years. I lost myself and never got the time to figure out what I like to do for me, as an adult. I’m not the same person I was 5 years ago and I have no idea what I like to do for me anymore.

I briefly had a time in Boston where I went out once a month (probably closer to every 2 months) after work if we got done early on a Friday, and had 2 or 3 beers with one of my closest work friends. I have on and off for several years had running, but it hasn’t really been that enjoyable anymore. Those were the only times I got even remotely close to doing something for me. Unfortunately, our marriage was not in a great spot at that time so it was always an issue when I did something for me and turned into a fight. It sucked having that double standard pushed at me, constantly pointing out the double standard and fighting about it, and then nothing changing. It was always him going out but that one hour every few months for me always started a fight. Without fail. And then I would say I needed time for me and he would say “well you can go out, you never go out, I don’t know why you don’t go out”.

The past 7 months of our marriage since he started therapy have been the absolute best months of our marriage thus far. Things have definitely gotten way better as a whole and before anyone gets it twisted, we have both always loved and love each other very much despite our issues. Marriage is work and we were and are willing to work for it and evolve to get ourselves into the best spot we can which is why our marriage is doing so much better now. However, I still feel alone sometimes. There is still this double standard that we are constantly trying to even up the score. I still watch him go about his activities, having this abundance of time to himself, while I am still surrounded constantly by nothing other than being a mom and wife. I don’t get any option to be anything else, and at this point I truly don’t even know what I’d do.

The past week and a half for me has been *rough*. I have been in my thoughts and feelings a lot these past couple weeks and trying to communicate my needs with Joe. It’s been tough seeing Joe go out to the backyard or the garage to shoot golf balls for hours and do other stuff alone while I sit in the house alone with three kids. I’ve been spending a lot of time just me and the kids, which these days just looks like baby Joey on my chest while I yell at the other two to be quiet so he doesn’t wake up. It makes me feel really alone when I’m going on three hours in the house by myself trying to juggle getting things for Mark and Rose with a baby that doesn’t want to be put down but doesn’t want me to move either. It has gotten to the point a few times in the past week that I’ve spent so much time alone that even with him right next to me I still feel alone. And the more alone I feel, the more alone I feel, and the more I want to be alone. If that makes sense. I haven’t gotten a chance to practice self care or do some kind of hobby, and I need to. I need a hobby to do just for me. I need something that I enjoy doing.

Please don’t get me wrong I love that Joe gets time for himself, because he needs it too. I just sometimes feel like my concerns and thoughts go unlistened to. And he is a lot more understanding than before and he’s working on it and trying to understand that I need time. Like right now. He took the baby and put the kids for a nap and told me to take some time for me. But in the back of my head I know before I finish writing this someone in this house is going to need me and then this time is over and I won’t get another chance. And he definitely still gets swept up in himself sometimes. It’s also really hard when I don’t know what I like to do.

Those times when the lonely feeling washes over me and I’m feeling overwhelmed in it, I start thinking about how there aren’t a lot of people who help us. I watch so many people with kids who are constantly surrounded by help. Even military families they have friends around that offer help even when they’re 5+ hours away from their families. All these people around me that have a village. They have friends, family, in-laws, and coworkers always willing to help, doing things with them, and it hurts me. Where is my village? Why does no one want to help? Why can’t I make friends when we move? What’s wrong with me that no one wants to be in my village?

I find myself having to remind myself that I might not have a village but I have Joe, my mom, and my dad now. I haven’t always, but I do now. Joe hasn’t always been around, and my dad can’t always be here, but I always have my mom. She always offers her help and in the past 4.5 years that I’ve been a parent she is the one constant in my life, even when Joe wasn’t around to be. She has helped me so much and even drove the two hours to get here and watch the kids so that Joe could do his homework during a rough patch in classes while I had to go to work. She drives two hours damn near every weekend to see us and the kids to the point they think she lives here. I may not have a village, but I’m grateful to have anyone at all. I’m grateful for my mom and I’m grateful for my tiny little tribe.

Still, I feel alone, and it’s not all the time, but recently it’s been a lot more. I feel unwanted by anyone outside of that tiny little tribe I mentioned.

I desperately desire a break. I desperately desire a village who readily offers their help. They say it takes a village to raise a child, so why don’t we get one? Why do we feel like we have to beg people to be involved in our and our children’s lives? I’m jealous. It comes down to that. I’m jealous of people who know what they like to do, they have help that gives them the chance to do it, and they get to take those breaks that I desperately desire.

I love my kids. I love being a mom more than anything I’ve ever done in my life, but I want that. I want to stop being alone, or feeling alone. I want more help. I don’t want to cry on the couch, or in the bathroom to Joe so the kids don’t hear, because of my lack of support. My lack of a village.

And it’s a huge slap in the face to see so many people take their village for granted. I see all these people who have this huge support system. They have all this help, and then they still complain about how they don’t have any. How they don’t get any breaks when I see them all the time, or what feels like all the time to me, taking time for themselves. And I know some people have even less support than me so I don’t take it for granted, (and I hope one day those people with less support than me find their village too.) Any help I receive I am beyond grateful for, which is why I’m so thankful for my parents and Joe because they do offer a lot of help in the grand scheme.

Maybe I’ll never have that village though, that huge support system. Maybe it’s the nature of being in the military for us and people see traveling to us no matter where we are as a burden. I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to feel alone anymore. I guess I’ll just have to keep working on it, trying to find hobbies, and trying to find my village if I’m meant to have one.

•