With summer quickly approaching, our household has been dreaming of hot days spent in cool lakes. Naturally, Brad and I thought it would be a good idea to sign Marshall and Vi up for swim lessons.
When we lived in Kansas City, Brad worked for a department that was short-staffed and overworked at the time. He was only 24 and I was still a baby at 22, we lived about 8 hours from all of our family when Marshall was born. The day we came home from the hospital- less than 48 hours after giving birth to our first- Brad went back to work leaving me alone with this new little life to figure out how to take care of. All while healing myself. He was disappointed that he didn’t get as much bonding time with his new son as he would like, but we needed the income and feared him losing his job if he didn’t return to work asap. We made it work, but it was hard and stressful on the both of us.
My pregnancy with Francesca went remarkably well in comparison to my previous ones. Then, those final weeks kicked in and- again- my body decided that pregnancy is hard. My heart rate skyrocketed and my blood pressure elevated, my OB decided enough was enough and booked me to be induced at 37 weeks. Continue reading
The big day came and went; the baby is here, the announcement has been made, and visitors are clamoring to get their first look at the new addition. But there is a key element missing in all of this: the mama. See, all throughout your pregnancy people love to tell horror stories of labor and sleepless newborn nights (don’t fret, all my labors and early newborn days have been pretty awesome) but few give their tips, tricks, and what to expect for mom’s self-care after delivery. So here’s the down and dirty on what to expect and how to make healing a bit less daunting postpartum. Continue reading
Sometimes I struggle with what number pregnancy I should call this. At every doctor’s appointment and ultrasound I’m asked “And what number pregnancy is this?” There, I know I am to include all my pregnancies. Even those I never got to bring home. “Six.” I say, it still stings every time the words fall from my lips. “And how many live births have you had?” Sometimes they say this with a smile, but most of the time when a person as young as me has had so many pregnancies they know the numbers won’t match. “Two.” why can’t I look them in the eye when I say this? I still carry some shame, still blame myself. I know it’s ridiculous, I know it makes no sense but grief- even when healed- doesn’t make sense. Continue reading
When I was pregnant with Vi, one of my concerns was Marshall. Up to that point, he was the only child and the sole focus of Brad & my world. The sun rose and set on this little boy and now some of that attention and love would be shared. Would he adjust okay? Would he be jealous? Would things be fair between this tiny needy newborn and a relatively independent toddler? Continue reading