10 things your doctor may not have mentioned

Maternal instincts? I knew mine might be delayed. But, I knew I loved my husband and have always loved kids. Maybe toddlers and older, but, hey, why not give it a whirl? So, that’s just what we did.

My husband and I have successfully reached 10 weeks with our baby boy, Jack. He is awesome. He truly is. However, those women who don’t admit that the first few weeks are not always awesome are liars; you know who you are. While thinking back on the past ten weeks, a few moments stuck out to me that I felt I should share.

Amid the countless pieces of advice, pregnancy books and annoying Facebook posts of others, here are some things your doctor didn’t tell you:

1. Your baby might remind you of a lizard. An adorable, snuggly little lizard, but a lizard nonetheless. I’ll always remember the moment the nurses handed Jack to me for the first time. He flailed his arms, arched his head back and latched onto my nipple so hard it made my toes curl. It really wasn’t this magical moment you read about in the pregnancy books.

2. You will look like a swollen gummy bear. I’m not sure why it’s so popular to attempt to post a majestic photo of you and your baby weeks – or even hours – after giving birth, but women are trying this more and more. That’s wonderful if you want to put on makeup, go out in a field in a gown and hold your baby for professional photos; however, if you are like me, you will look so scary and swollen you may frighten your niece. Yep, that happened.

3. Ignore the C-section comments of others. It’s taken me a while to come to the conclusion that it is completely fine and normal I needed a C-section. I won’t list the events of my pregnancy or labor, but there was a reason for it. My husband and I trusted our doctor 100 percent. While my scar or the pain has not been ideal, our baby is here and healthy; and that is the most important thing. Everyone thinks they are experts when it comes to labor and motherhood, and people will one-up you each day. Tell them to shut-up in your mind and continue your focus on the day ahead.

4. You will hate your husband. There will be one moment, or 173 moments, in the weeks after giving birth, that you will hate your husband. But, just because they are horrible at swaddling a baby, do not consider divorce just yet. It really is a mixture of hormones and sleep deprivation that will make you crazy, and your frustration will be taken out on the man who is snoring through a nighttime feeding.

5. Beard trimming might happen in the back yard. Just when you thought you hated him, you will love him again. There was a morning while walking Jack around the house trying to get him to fall back asleep that I looked out the window and saw my husband in the backyard, shirtless and trimming his beard. He came back in and explained how he didn’t want the noise to wake up Jack. Suddenly, I remembered why I fell in love with him.

6. The thought of a penis will make you puke. Except when Channing Tatum is on the Today Show talking about Magic Mike XXL. Or when you hear the SOA theme song. No, but really, the penis is what got you into this, and you will want it far, far away for a while. I’ll just stop there with the penis talk.

7. Holy moly boob size. I’m not a large-busted woman, but whoa! I’ve breastfed and pumped in front of a few of my friends who have been utterly (get it?) shocked. True friends have said things to me like, “Those are some milky breasts!” But on a serious side note: While breastfeeding has worked for me, I think you have to find what works best for you. A lot of women are putting so much pressure on themselves to breastfeed perfectly, but if formula is the right choice, then do it. Many will disagree with this next statement, but if your baby is healthy, happy and gaining weight, that is all that matters.

8. You will cry when you try to put on normal pants. There is really nothing else to say about this except keep on moving and grooving. The weight will shed some day, or, at least I’m hoping so.

9. Accept the help of others. It is hard to ask for help sometimes. If you’re like me, I wanted to show others that I could do it all myself. However, I recently read somewhere that “it takes a village to raise a baby.” And, that couldn’t be truer. My mother, mother-in-law, sister and countless others have been so great for our new little family. I’ve learned little tricks of the trade from each of them, and Jack has spent quality time with so many people who love him.

10. So much love for something so small. No one ever prepared me for how much I would love my adorable, little, squishy lizardman. I’ll keep the cheesy rant short, but my husband and I love Jack so much. Each day, we try to show him something new whether it’s a new book, song or toy. My motto lately has been this: Life is about peace and laughter, and those are values I will continue to try to teach Jack each day.

Back at it

It’s been awhile. Not sure why I fell off the blog bandwagon, but I did. But, I’m back at it and going to try to make a weekly goal of getting something up here.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. If I could sit here each day and write passionately as a career, I would be beyond thrilled. I’m reading a book called, “The Story Within,” which teaches you different writing methods and how to approach them. The first section teaches you how to find your subject when writing a book and how to write an intro focused on one subject. I’m going to do three intros as an exercise in this blog. 

Here I go…

Intro 1

“Where have you been?” she asked. She always blurts out a question when she first enters a room with Derek. But this time she has a real reason as to why the question popped out of her mouth. He was late, and he didn’t suspect Sasha to be home already. 

Intro 2

Yoga breathing. Gabby started to it in her mornings. It was the least she could do to try to calm the nerves that have developed ever since her fiancé broke off the engagement last week. She hasn’t shed a tear so far, though, which is bound to change. Or, must change, you could say. 

Intro 3

It was the first Cinco de Mayo Richard had ever witnessed first hand. All he knew before it started was that there may be some Mexican gear and beads. However, there was a little bit more he had to look forward to. He already had a half empty tequilla bottle in his right hand, and he was chanting, “Never going home! Never going home!” His friends were all cracking up. 

 

 

Ladies, hold up a week on the fall boots

It’s been going on since the beginning of the month. And it needs to stop. What is this I speak of, you might ask?

Ladies in Illinois are sporting the fall boots a tad too soon.

What drove me to blog about this shoe phenomenon may surprise you. This morning, while doing our usual Sunday morning routine of Meet the Press viewing, Johnny and I lost it laughing at IMF Chief Christine Lagarde and her choice of foot apparel.

Here’s a screen shot:

“Why is she wearing ‘F*** me’ boots?” asked Johnny. While the interview was interesting about the shutdown and the debt ceiling, I was beyond distracted by her boots. Seriously, why was she wearing those? Then, I figured it out. This 57-year-old french lady is just following what every female in Illinois is doing. The moment October hits, the boots come out of the closet. Ladies, why? Put them back away until temps reach the 50’s or below. That way, our boots will actually be serving their purpose of warming our feet.

Cold weather will be here soon enough, and it won’t go away until April. We will have plenty of time to wear the boots. Trust me.

Link

Proud of my husband!

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, but I’m trying to change that. Life has been crazy, let me tell you. I’m switching jobs, Johnny’s business is swamped, and we never seem to have enough time. Speaking of his business … Take a look at this weekend’s article! So very proud!

Yep, I’m Married

So, it’s official: I’m married. It was a surreal feeling and a surreal few days in Anna Maria Island, Fla. My husband, Johnny, and I got married on the beach on June 8, and it was a wonderful experience overall. However, it was not without comedy or randomness, two things which always pop up in all of my major life events. I’m going to try to sum it up in a list:

1. Tropical Storm Andrea reared its head toward us on Thursday, June 6. Now, I avoided saying reared its “ugly” head, as the saying goes, because my friends and I kept saying the storm was just “our Andrea” trying to come to the wedding. (I had a best friend who died of leukemia freshman year of high school named Andrea.) I really believe now that she was just trying to say, hello. Ironic, right?

2. The bridal attendants and I had a spa day on Thursday afternoon, shortly after the majority of the storm had passed. We celebrated the storm by drinking our weight in wine and then sprinting to the ocean just minutes after our manicures and pedicures. It still makes me laugh.

3. My 2-year-old niece, Lilah, partied harder than anyone at the wedding. We will have many memories to fill her in about when she becomes older. From swimming nearly 4 hours a day to dancing the night away at the wedding, she had a blast and put everyone else’s partying stamina to shame.

4. The wedding day started with mimosas and ended with an arm wrestling competition officiated by my brother-in-law at the bar. In the middle, there were many tears and laughs in the midst of my nervousness. There was also a moment in there in which someone’s cigarette bumped into my dress. Don’t worry, the damage wasn’t bad at all and quickly became a running joke.

5. My photographer didn’t wear a bra. Enough said.

6. My father made a Seinfeld “I was in the pool!” shrinkage comment in his toast at the wedding reception. I don’t think many dads have successfully pulled that off before.

7. We had to be out of our reception area by 10 p.m. because it was turtle mating season on the beach. I guess the lights from the reception distract them from their mating duties. (Just ask one of my bridal attendants, Chelsea … I think she saw it in action later on.)

In the end, I successfully married my best friend, the person who puts up with me day in and day out and somehow finds me funny and endearing. He looked so handsome, and I’ll always have the image in my mind of the way he was looking at me as I was walking down the sandy aisle. It’s something that was so real and that I couldn’t fake or recreate if I tried. There is no such thing as a perfect wedding day, but ours was perfect enough for us.

The “Would-Be” Due Date

I’m approaching my “would-be” due date. What can I say besides; it’s not a fun feeling. I understand miscarriages are something that thousands of women go through each year. Sources vary, but it is estimated that one in four pregnancies ends in a miscarriage.

But for those of you out there (if you’re like me) each month, you track your “would-be” progress. It’s almost like an uncontrollable segment in your brain telling you, “You would be 6 months pregnant, now 8, then 9.” You randomly wonder, “What would he/she have looked like?”

Something inside me told me to share my story. We won’t go into the specifics, but my fiancé and I got pregnant nine months ago. Two months later, “it” – or whatever you are supposed to call “it” – was no more. After not one, but two, D&Cs because of my body’s hormonal mess, life was supposed to go back to normal. But, then the nightmares started, random tears would come, and I became (and still am) obsessed with what happened. I can’t help it. It’s part of who I am, and who I am is a perfectionist. I got straight A’s, I graduated with honors, and I have always tried to do the right thing. So, why did my body not successfully make a baby?

Men, it seems, look at it scientifically. Something was genetically wrong, so your body rejected it. Simple as that. I’m not saying my fiancé isn’t loving and supportive, but he had to move on. One of us did in order for us not to unravel.

To make matters more difficult, I work in a hospital and am filling the maternity leave of a girl who shares almost exactly my “would be” due date. I thought I could handle it. I thought it would help me. But, every day I stare at her stomach and think, “That was supposed to be me.” It doesn’t mean I’m not happy for her or for my sister who had her second daughter two months ago; I’m just envious and feel lost.

While I try to move on with my life, every time I look down at my stomach when I’m naked, I can’t help but think, “My belly was supposed to be huge right now.” I know I’m not alone with these thoughts. And unfortunately, I am learning that thoughts like these are self destructive.

I also work near the labor and delivery floor, so they play a nursery rhyme song every time a baby is delivered. Each time I hear that sound, it’s like someone punched me in the stomach. I keep working, though. There is nothing I can do, and that’s the hardest part – It’s out of my control.

Do these things happen for a reason? Is there a grand purpose for my life and was this supposed to be a chapter in it? Who knows, and my brain is tired of wondering. I trying to force myself to think that it is no longer my “would-be” due date, but the date I need to move on with my life. The day I need to start looking forward, not backward. Each day will be a struggle, but I have no choice.

I was given one life. I can’t lose a pregnancy and myself in the process.