Pregnant during a pandemic??

Gosh, it’s been a really long time since I’ve posted on here. I’ve thought about it a few times, but really didn’t have much to say. I’m a full time PreK teaching, mom of two, coach’s wife...oh and I’m in grad school. Oh yea and I’m pregnant again. So life is pretty boring.  jk. 

But in all seriousness... if I am being honest, my very little down time is spent aimlessly scrolling, texting friends back (sometimes...I really suck at that lately), and trying to sleep before the soon to be middle kid wakes up, or the elderly dog needs out...again. 

But now. Now I have ALL the down time. We went on spring break and BAM, we aren’t returning until at least April 27th. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted some snow days. But not like this. “The Rona” pandemic is much more than we asked for, much more than anyone asked for. 

I want to take a second and thank all of the “essentials” that are still up and running. You guys are the real MVPs. And all the ones out of jobs for now, I am so sorry this has happened to you. I love my service industry, hair, and nail friends, and so many more! To the gym people, you’re kicking ass and taking names online and it is proof that nothing can get us down. 

I feel for the immune deficient friends and family and ones that I don’t even know that are suffering in unimaginable ways right now. Heck, even all of you who didn’t go into education that are now being forced to learn how we do what we do when we do (it.) (SOMEONE tell me they caught my Salt n Pepa reference there!) It’s not for the faint of heart, I tell ya! 

But what I really want to talk about, is how it feels to be pregnant or expecting in some sort of way during this. I’m carrying my third child, from the get go my anxiety has been worse than ever before. So much so that I talked with my doctor and didn’t get off my meds because I didn’t think I could handle it. But now this. To be honest, I wasn’t scared of Covid-19. I followed the guidelines and hoped for the best, and then things started getting messier and I was able to read the severity of it all. In the US, pregnant women aren’t considered to be in the same “at risk” category as the elderly and autoimmune or immune deficient folks. And for that, I am somewhat glad, but every day there’s something new to learn about. This virus seems to be mutating. And to me, that is frightening. The unknown and the waiting is so much to take in and sometimes too much to take at all. Baker was tested for immune deficiencies and it came back fine, but if you’ve followed us at all, you know that kid gets the most random stuff. So I’m worried. And I’m worried about if I get it. And can it affect my baby or will it possibly mutate where it will affect the baby? And what if this is all still happening when I deliver the baby? I have big plans of going natural, but in my head, Ben, my mom, and Erica (doula bff) would all be there to help me through that. And as of right now, that wouldn’t be the case. I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest. I have a lump in my throat and I cry pretty much every night around 7:00 with absolutely zero reasoning except I’m anxious and scared and tired and out of my comfort zone here. I guess what I’m saying is, if you’re scared or anxious, whoever you may be, solidarity.  We don’t need to reason with it. We need to cast it all on Jesus. Because He already knows the outcome. 

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Did I love her enough today?

A week long Thanksgiving break is coming to an end. It came right after a week full of illness. So we have had an extreme amount of family time. 

During said time, Mollie Kate has become an official stage 5 clinger. 

She’s always wanted me near by, but in the past 12 days, she has basically become another body part to me. And here’s the kicker, she’s not always nice. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Like she wants to be next to me, but she’s mad at me for who knows what. 

Girl, bye. 

All day long, I’m lost on how to parent her. I’m tired, I’m hungry, I miss my shows, I miss taking a bath without her sitting by the tub...and I know she HAS to feel my anxiety and hear the horrible selfish tone in my voice. 

And then she lays down in bed, and she cuddles and we laugh and talk...and I walk out of the room thinking, “Did I even love her enough today?” And tonight, like many other nights, I feel myself fall short. She and her brother and their dad are every single beat of my heart. My world. But I know for certain I don’t show it. I know my frustration gets the best of me. I know I am selfish. I know I fight back with a 3 year old and just make the issue (whatever it may be at the time) that much bigger.  

I just hope that when she goes to bed at night, she remembers the laughter and cuddles over the frustration and tiredness of her selfish mama. I hope she knows she is the reason I breathe and also my fresh air...even when I don’t show it. What slows my anxiety is knowing that she was created in God’s image, and He sees the good...so hopefully she does too. 

We are all just out here doing our best. Even if our best at the time is not our actual best. 

Keep your love for one another at full strength, because love covers a multitude of sins. -1 Peter 4:8

The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down. -Proverbs 14:1

I. Do. Not. Want. To. CoSleep!

It’s been a while, huh? #twokids 

Hear my words. Listen to my claps.  I do not want to cosleep. 

Y’all. I was told there was a bond between a baby boy and his mama. And it’s real. What’s funny is, his daddy can make him smile bigger than anyone. (Except for MK.) But when it comes to sleep... he wants his mama. (Insert heart eyes)

He goes down to bed so wonderfully in his crib. I can put him down drowsy, he holds his little blanket and puts himself to sleep. Until my head hits the pillow. Then we play the paci game a few times. Usually until the 2:00 hour. After that... I’m tired of getting up and put him right next to me in my bed. Where he sleeps beautifully and dreams sweetly until the AM. 

I couldn’t pay Mollie to sleep with me when she was little. 

But who am I kidding. He sleeps so good...one hand on me...unless he wiggles his way into the “nuck” of my belly and one hand on his blanket.

And the two of them together in the mornings is my FAVORITE! 

“Let me love you a little more before you’re not so little anymore.”

The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” 
—Exodus 33:14

Not even a mouse..

It’s Christmas night. My whole family is sleeping. Literally not a creature stirring...

But I’m here. Overwhelmed by the joy in my heart. So very thankful that a sweet, beautiful, and mighty baby boy was born so many years ago. 

My emotions this holiday have run wild. I often wonder what exactly my place is in this world. But I look at my children and I know without a doubt why I am here. Though my patience is short, and my struggles are real, my heart is full. 

I hope that no matter what you celebrate, your days are very merry. 

I thank my lucky stars that the Savior was born on this day...lighting my path of existence and leading me to exactly where I am right now. 

Stepping out of the darkness

I wrote this blog post when Baker was 3 weeks old. I never shared it. I was scared. I was ashamed. But here it is. 

Stepping out of the darkness. 

Scene: Close to perfect family. Wonderful home. Beautiful nursery. House filled with laughter and love. Sweet toddler. New squishy baby. 

Behind the scene: frustrated, emotional and exhausted mama. 

A glimpse into my real world...Not my everything is shiny and rainbows social media world. The world where I cry when no one is looking but I don’t know what I’m crying about. Where my heart could explode from the love of my two kids at any given moment. I still feel confused, lost, and alone in my feels, even though everyone assures me they are completely normal. 

You see, I’m good.. 99% of the time, I’m happy, out and about, making memories with my family, drinking my (homemade) PSL unless I’ve been up all night and then Starbucks can make it for me. But that 1% is crap. It’s lonely. And it’s confusing as hell. I have this insanely cute family. So what am I crying for? My toddler loves my newborn. My husband loves me. We all love each other. What’s with the tears? 

I legit ask myself that every single day. I don’t know the answer. 

But I do know that every day is better than the last. I know that when I surround myself in the word of God, that 1% gets smaller. I know I have a stellar support system that lets me vent without judgement and pours me wine when my glass is low. 

I am not one to air my dirty laundry out for everyone to see and judge. But I felt it was important to let moms that may feel the same way know that I see them. I pray for you. I know the struggle. You are not alone. When everyone in that hospital room leaves your side and goes to the baby and you’re laying there in your stirrups watching the madness around you... I see you. I’m there for you. You. Are. Not. Alone. 

Eventually life will go back to normal. Or so I am told... I’ll let you know when we get there. 

You are a freakin rockstar. 

I see you. 

My God, my soul is so traumatized; the only help is remembering You wherever I may be.” (Psalm 42:6)

**Update**

I have overcome the darkness. The devil did not win. Life has gotten a little easier. And my love-stronger. 

I mean, it took like 3 straight hours to get both kids bathed and ready for bed last night. But it’s our normal now. I’m thankful for a husband that helps out fearlessly. And for a God that prevails. 

The hardest thing I've ever done...

The hardest thing I've ever done. 

I'm certain I've said this about many other things in my life. But this time, it's true. Maybe my emotions are everywhere. Maybe my body isn't healing as quickly as I think it should. Maybe somewhere along the way I got too big for my britches and thought, "Hey, I got this." 

Truth is. I don't have this. It's freaking hard. I can't even pick up my 2 year old because the newborn jacked up my body. And she doesn't understand that. And he's so stinking cute that I would totally do it again tomorrow for him. Well, maybe not tomorrow. That seems painful. But you get the point. 

But I sit here and complain, and feel sorry for myself, and apologize to Ben because I think I should be more of a super woman than I am... and honestly, what I should be doing is praying. Thanking God for two beautiful and healthy children. Two pretty much seamless deliveries. One husband that gets my medicine so I don't OD on something and doesn't judge when I tell him to go to the store because my tots need cabbage on them STAT. (Sorry, too much?) 

Mothering two kids is freaking hard. Especially when you're not at 100%. I can't imagine being the Father to the world... facing the enemy head on, and doing so with little complaint while many hate you and your body takes an actual beating. 

I am able to love my kids fiercely because He first loved me. 

For that, I am forever grateful. 

Genesis 2:7 Then the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man’s nostrils, and the man became a living person.

I am sorry to have done that to you...

Be still my heart.

I planned to spend an entire day with you. Loving you and telling you over and over how much you mean to me. How just because I was bringing another baby into the world wouldn't change our relationship as you know it. How you were gaining a great responsibility and how I knew you would protect him like he was yours. 

Instead, I left in the middle of the night. Likely, by the time you wake, your little life will have forever changed. I'm sorry to have done that to you when I know you don't understand. 

I pray you love him. I pray you don't hold it against me. Most importantly I pray that you know exactly how much I have loved every single moment of all 1,000+ days I've gotten to have you as an only child.