Year in (*brutally honest) Review

I've worked on a blog post about 100 times to sum of the first year of the child's life, and it's all been garbage. How do you even start to put into words what was the most challenging, life altering, incredible, and difficult year of your life? I don't even know. So here are my ramblings about it, almost 17 months later:


The number one question/statement I hear almost daily is "I don't know how you do it, I couldn't do what you do". Newsflash, you could. You just wouldn't like it. I mean, lets be real. You wouldn't lie down in the fetal position and die. You'd put on your big girl panties and deal with it, just like I do. So don't say you can't. It's not a compliment.


So what was it really like? I didn't take things one day at a time. I took them one hour, sometimes even one minute at a time. Sutton and I have hung out on our own for about 75% of the time (depending on the season, winter is not as busy) since he was born. Jacob left to go back out when Sutton was 2 weeks old. 2 weeks. I can't even let that sink in. I wasn't even cleared to drive for 6 weeks. How was I supposed to survive on my own? To be perfectly honest, I didn't know what in the holy hell I was doing. Like, someone gave me this baby and I'm supposed to know how to keep him alive by myself and stuff?! I might as well have been 17 years old, because I was terrified and felt completely ill-equipped. Thankfully, I had his nurse (shout out Lee Wayman) to answer all of my ridiculous questions and keep me from losing my mind. I won't lie, there have been some lonely nights and some dark times. I can remember lying in bed at 2 am sobbing because I was so tired that my body physically hurt and I didn't know how I was going to survive. It seemed like every stomach virus, every cold, the horrible hand foot and mouth, they all happened when I was alone. Luckily, the dreaded ear infection happened when Jacob was home. He took him and just stayed in the spare bedroom with him and rode it out. I needed that. This life isn't easy, and it just wouldn't be fair for me to pretend like it is.  It's not glamorous. Not by a long shot. My husband may be on national TV or playing live in front of 150,000 people, but there are no fancy award shows or cool parties for the wife. (Okayyy, I did get to meet Taylor Swift and totally lose my cool that one time, so I can't say noneee). But to say I've never wished things were different would just be a lie. At the same time, when you love someone, their success is your success. I signed up for this. I wouldn't trade the amount of joy and pride I feel seeing him live out his dream for any amount of stress I feel. There have definitely been some real honest conversations with God. There have been a few times (luckily not for a while now) that I just had to tell him that I was at my limit and I couldn't handle anything else. This summer was probably the worst. There were weeks when we would only see Jacob for 12 hours before he was gone again. I think the month of September he wasn't even home 5 days total. Saying that was anything other than miserable would be a lie. It was hard and I hated it. People would try and trivialize it by saying things like "you'll want this time back, don't wish it away" or "I'm sure Jacob is sad being away" or my personal favorite "cant you just quit your job and go out with him" (that last one still makes me break into a crazy sounding laugh) and it was like a punch to the stomach. Here I am, barely holding my head above water people. I haven't eaten a real meal in 2 weeks. Those comments aren't just unhelpful, they hurt. What I would've done for those people in that first year to say "I'm coming over so you can go get a hair cut for literally the first time in a year." At the same time, there were people who I couldn't have made it through the last year without. Mostly it was emotional support, which I needed immensely. I could cry right now thinking of how thankful I am for those people. I can't even name all of the friends, family, and the "mothers" I have at school, not to mention my mom and mother in law who come any time I ask. I've also learned more about myself than in the first 28 years of my life combined. I've met some absolutely amazing people who I can't imagine not being a part of my life now. I've also become amazingly appreciative of even the smallest amount of help. I constantly battle guilt and the need to repay people who are just trying to do something nice because it's so out of what's normal for me. Acts of service is definitely my new love language.


I could keep reliving that first year, but I don't want to be a Debbie downer...so instead I'll tell you what I've learned on this freaking crazy bus called life that apparently I'm driving:


First, when you think you can't, you can. Life isn't always easy. It's not always fun. And it's definitely not always what you thought it would be. Life is messy. Sometimes, it slaps you right across the face with a hot piece of bologna. But it is in those times of deep helplessness that you realize what you're really made of and who is really in this with you. You won't know that if things are always roses and rainbows and kittens.


When you have a baby, you will want to kill your husband (frequently), and you're also pretty certain a jury of your actual peers would never convict you for it. Not if they heard he just did, said, *insert many things here. No matter how "amazing" that man is and how much he helps, things will still disappoint you. They won't live up to your expectations. Mostly, it's because they won't care about everything you care about as much as you care about it... And that's ok. At some point they'll meet you in the middle. They'll get with it a little more and you'll learn what you need to let go. You will (at some point) bond over this perfect little miracle you created... It just might not be until that perfect little miracle starts interacting with you, sleeping, and until you can get over the fact that your husband literally did nothing to get him here. It's ok for that little resentment to hang out for a while before you recognize it and try to let it go. ***A push present does help.

Speaking of husbands, I learned there can be no uncertain talk. It's time for real talk. For example, if the trash needs to go out and I need help, I can't try to "be nice" by phrasing it in a way such as "the trash is getting full and it runs tomorrow." Seeee, that is a statement, not a question or a request. Bless their little hearts, men's brains are simple. Things like "I need you to take out the trash now so I can put this 10th dirty diaper I've changed today in it" leave it in no uncertain terms. Bonus points if you can add in a smile that day.


I learned that Amazon Prime is a necessity for life. A. Total. Necessity. Then, Amazon Now was a freaking game changer. I would marry Amazon if I could.

 I started automatically feeling camaraderie with other mothers, even if I didn't know them. I would see a baby screaming in the grocery store and mom who looked like she hadn't slept or showered in a week (and you know she probably hadn't) and all I wanted to do was give her a hug and hold her baby for 5 min so she could just get some stuff done in peace... But then I would realize that I'm a stranger and that's freaking creepy. It's like you're initiated into this weird, smelly sorority where no one sleeps and everyone cries a lot, but yet you are more bonded than a 12 year old's braces to their teeth.

 True fact: not all feelings are nostalgia. Sometimes I look back at time hop and instead of crying because he was so little, I get the sweats at the thought of living that particular day over again. Hearing things like "Just enjoy rocking them and staring at them sleep, they're only little once" would make me go into fits of rage. I don't think anyone is super ready to relive a baby who didn't stop crying for 3 days straight for no apparent reason and hated food, sleep, and basically everything until he was 4 months old.


I completely understand now what it means to have your heart live outside your body. Ugh, that sounds so cliché, but I have never in my life felt love like I feel for that little boy. It's truly indescribable. It is all consuming if you actually let yourself sit and think about the overwhelming responsibility you have, and at the same time the absolutely unconditional love you feel. It's both fantastic and terrifying. With it comes a level of worry I've never felt. Worry about if he is eating enough vegetables, if hot dogs really cause cancer, if he's sleeping enough, if he's too hot, if he's too cold, if a convertible car seat is really better than an infant seat, if he's happy, if his bath water is the right temperature, if he's going to be short and get made fun of, if he will ever eat anything besides cheese again, if some girl is going to break his heart one day, if he's going to be smart, if things are going to be hard for him, if I'm doing anythingggg right.... it feels like it never ends. I'm guessing it really never does.

Finally, I've learned your expectations for basically everything change when you have a baby. What is considered clutter free, what is considered an acceptable amount of days not to wash your hair, what is an acceptable food combo that can be considered dinner (wine and dry cheerios, ok)... Basically that first year is a constant paradigm shift of what is normal. I just learned to roll with it. To be prepared for everything I thought would  happen to basically be opposite. I would have friends who had babies that loveddd and could not live without their expensive 4 moms swing, so I shelled out hundreds of dollars for my baby to hate it. Some of my friends loved the newborn stage because their babies slept all the time, I didn't think I would make it out alive. I thought formula was evil, until 2 days in when real life hit. People would say "mom by day, mom by night" like not getting sleep for months on end isn't a tactic Al-Qaeda gets excited to torture people with.  I realized that yoga pants and coffee were better friends to me than a lot of people, and mostly I realized that it does get easier. Above all else, I leaned that it's so, so worth it. Even on the days that test your very sanity. Even on the days that I wished for things to be different. Even on the worst days, that little meatball found a way to make them the best days too.

"Here's Someone Who Had a Baby That Looks Exactly Like Someone Who Had a Baby"

There are 2 things that prompted me to write this blog. First, coincidentally, one of my students tweeted this to me yesterday at random. 

This year I've had to deal with some things as a teacher and a coach I wasn't prepared for that goes right along with this. My co-workers and I have talked about this subject at length this year. We all feel we are doing a HUGE disservice to this generation by not having conversation after conversation with them about cyberbullying, sexting, etc. I've seen first hand that it is a massive problem now, and this is SUCH a huge part of the culture that teenagers are growing up with. How often do you see in the media a child taking their own life because of cyberbullying or sexting. Taking. Their. Life. Seriously. It's that big of a deal. Sidenote, if you have a child old enough to have social media, you need to be having constant conversations about this. CONSTANT. They are submerged in it every single day, and if you don't think they are you're just wrong. I love you, but you're wrong.

Second, my sister posted this in response to an article about Kelly Clarkson I'll explain below. I couldn't have phrased it any better.

If you pay attention to entertainment news as closely as I do (yeah...judge me) you've most likely seen an article in the last few days about a reallll jerk "journalist" named Katie slamming Kelly Clarkson for being "fat." For those of you who have less embarrassing things to do with your free time, let me sum it up. She tweeted,

"Jesus, what happened to Kelly Clarkson? Did she eat all of her backing singers? Happily I have wide-screen. #grahamnorton" 

At first I'm thinking, ok we all say stupid things for humor we don't mean. Lord knows if I was ever followed around with a camera my family would probably disown me. However, then she "defended" herself by saying 

"Kelly Clarkson is now a chunky monkey, if we're putting it kindly. She does look like she's eaten her backup singers. My advice: she needs to get out there with her stroller and do some pushing and get some of that weight off. We give fat really cute names, don't we? We have baby weight, puppy fat, love handles, muffin top, chunky monkey—ultimately these are all nice names for something that's not very nice...You're supporting Kelly Clarkson because everybody likes to have a fat friend, because the great thing about a fat friend is it makes you feel slimmer."

My first thought was language I shouldn't include because I teach high school and like my job and all. My second thought was, I feel bad for you Katie whatever your name is. You're so engrossed in this crazy celebrity fascination we all have that you can't even separate yourself from it and realize Kelly Clarkson is a real freaking person.

Excuse me "journalist" Katie, but Kelly Clarkson grew a human being. In between, oh I don't know, keeping that human being alive and winning a heck of a lot of grammys, maybe she doesn't have time to "get out there with her stroller." I refuse to use your whole name, because in a brief google search it appears you loveeee seeking out controversy, and the last thing I want is to give you what you want. It also appears you have no children of your own. Let me just speak for every person who has sacrificed their body to produce the greatest thing that has ever happened to them, you are the worst type of human. You are judging something you have never done. You are criticizing someone you have never met. Everywhere we look there is someone else telling us to feel bad about ourselves. 

Want to know what I looked like 8 months pregnant? 

 

But guess what, I gave birth to the most perfect creature imaginable, so suck it model. 100% my baby is more awesome than yours, and this beached whale was worth it. 

Don't even get me started on photoshop, but holy freaking crap. Every time you turn around it's like someone is screaming at you "FEEL BAD FOR YOURSELF." I love campaigns like Dove's real beauty and the "Like a Girl" campaign. Holler at Cindy Crawford, it takes courage to embrace this in a world of what you see above! PS, you look great guh!

Just once, I'd love to see a celebrity that refused to be photoshopped. Stop making young girls have completely unrealistic expectations of themselves. Stop making moms who already have crazy hormones and insecurity issues feel bad, when instead they should feel freaking awesome.

On days that I get really sad about my stretch marks and pizza dough-like tummy, I look at this face. It was all worth it to have this in my life. *yes he is licking my face.

To quote Kelly Clarkson's response to this horrible woman, "That's because she doesn't know me. I'm awesome!" You are awesome Kelly Clarkson (Also you live down the street from where I teach, we should totally be BFF's). Anywhoooo....

I hope we all keep the conversation going that what you say behind a computer screen DOES matter. It is all the same! Would she have said the exact same thing to Kelly's face? I'd put money on the fact that she wouldn't. We have to teach the generation behind us that words are words. Face to face or on a screen, you are accountable for what you say. Humor is great, and we should all take a chill pill sometimes and stop being so easily offended. However, there is a big difference between humor and mean. What this cruel woman said wasn't funny. If you think it was funny, reevaluate yourself. It sends a terrible message to everyone. Stop being so desensitized to the fact that you're not looking at them face to face. What this woman said makes her coward, and I don't respond well to cowards and bullies. 

I'd say this to your face Journalist Katie, no last name. You're a coward and a jerk. I hope somehow you read this and reevaluate your life. If you really don't understand the ramifications of words, please google "teen suicide." I'm in the business of teaching teenagers that they are smart and awesome. You should use the platform you've been given to do the same.

*drops the mic.

The Social Media Mom

Snow days = lots of time to sit around with my thoughts. You know what happens when that occurs... blogs. 

We live in a day and time when connecting with friends and family is literally in the palm of our hands. We don't have to rely on yearly Christmas cards or wait on visits to see how much has changed. For me, this makes living in Tennessee when almost everyone I know and love lives in Louisiana much easier! I am probably the queen of over posting. Do not follow my Instagram if you don't want to see an obnoxious amount of pictures of the most precious baby you've ever laid eyes on (not up for discussion). I'm saying all this to say social media is great... However, can we all give each other a freaking break? 

While social media connects us and gives us a sense of belonging when we can't be face to face, it can also make us feel like complete crap.I feel like I try to post real life. Do I take 97 pictures of my kid and post the best one where he looks like he's a model while the other 96 he's having a total meltdown? Absolutely! But I try not to pretend like it's always a cake walk. Case in point, Christmas pictures and stomach virus. I'm pretty sure the caption I posted with the vomit was "Party On" as this was around the 17th time I was covered in vomit that week.

Sometimes I think, especially for moms, we can be really insensitive to others that read our posts. I say we because I'm 100% sure I'm guilty of this too. I'm not saying we should all walk on our tip toes and hold our breath hoping not to offend, but just be aware! If you want to play an April fools joke, maybe don't post you're pregnant when you're not. I can remember a friend telling me how much it destroyed her to see people joking about being pregnant when they were struggling with infertility. I think it's great you get to go do all kind of fun things with and without your baby, but living 500 miles away from family makes that a lot harder for me. Then I feel awful for neglecting my relationship with my husband. I feel awesome for you that your 2 week old is sleeping through the night...until I have a 2 week old that isn't. Then at that point I want to throw things at you. (disclaimer: this is not me calling anyone out...these are random examples) 

I think when we post/read we need to think about 2 main things. 

1. what are my intentions with this post? Am I just trying to brag or am I honestly excited because my husband did something sweet, I went somewhere cool, or my child hit a milestone, etc? If I think I may be getting to the bragging stage, I try to pump the breaks. That being said, don't let anyone steal your joy. If you have a dang 2 week old who is sleeping through the night, that is something anyone would be excited about! If people don't like your post...well I'll get to that in a second.
2. Am I overly sensitive about this particular subject, or was the post actually offensive?

My touchy subject lately has been breastfeeding. If you want to post a selfie while you do it to bring awareness and show the world how great it is, more power to you! I'm all for it being normalized and for women to have manyyy more rights than do currently when it comes to feeding their child. However, sometimes the way people say it plain makes me feel like crap. Great that your making it look sooo easy and natural, but in reality it more than likely took some serious work on your part. At first it probably wasn't easy and natural, but you'd never know this from your posts about it. This set it up to be a huge shock to me when it was so hard! For me, it was a terrible experience and I had a ton of guilt about not being able to do it. I didn't understand what was wrong with me that it wasn't a walk in the park and that I didn't just love it and feel so bonded.  Every time I saw someone post about how awesome it is and how it's the greatest gift you can give your baby etc I felt so much guilt and shame. I understand the push to let everyone know how great it is (and I'm 100% not saying that it isn't) but dang when you constantly see things about "natures perfect food" and "breast is best" it makes you feel like a horrible mother. I mean every single formula commercial even has a disclaimer now about how breastfeeding is better. Sometimes I feel bombarded by messages that say I'm a big fat failure. I'm perfectly fine with my decision now, but dang it's like pouring lemon juice in a paper cut reading about it constantly. Clearly I am overly sensitive about this issue!

Let me follow that up by saying I know that no one posts things like that to hurt feelings. Just the opposite, most people have probably never thought about it. I know I've posted things that have hurt feelings (cough cough vaccines, we all know how I feel). But that, friends, is the real beauty of social media. If someone posts things that upset me, I can just unfollow them and chose not to see it! :) 

I'm all for social media. If you follow me you know that, and I hate to see people made to feel guilty about sharing their lives on it. I can't imagine having to mail pictures to my parents or sister for them to see my baby! I just hope we can all start to be a little more real and make our social media lives more closely match our real lives! Of course you don't want to post how horrible everything is going, nor does anyone want to read that constantly. But dangit let's support each other. Embrace the chaos. Learn to laugh at ourselves and not take everything so seriously. Prime example, my friend Angie's Christmas card picture. Real life with a 2 week old and I absolutely love it! Anyone who has ever had a baby can relate so closely to this, and it's awesome.

Let's post the good with the bad. If we're using social media to keep up with people we truly care about, then I want to know if you're having a rough time! I want to be able to offer support to my friends when they need it. Hopefully then we all won't feel like we are the only ones who don't live Pinterest perfect lives!

Exiting The War Zone

"The Very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone."

I saw this Jane Austen quote on a picture frame at my mom's house and did a little swoon. Then I really thought about it. Looking back, this is exactly how I feel. At the time, I don't know that it felt that way in those first few days! In fact, I'm probably sugar coating it for fear of judgement. I didn't feel like that at all. You can read the story of his birth on my previous blog post, which vastly contributed to taking some time to get to know this little dude. 

Before you freak out, I am 112% obsessed with my son. He gives me more joy than I ever knew was possible. Everyone says you can't understand the amount of love you feel for your child until they are born, and it is absolutely true. However, it took me some time.

I wrote 3 different blog posts during the first 3 months of his life, only 1 of which I published (the others were named "Guacamole for Breakfast and an Identity Crisis" and "Holy Crap I'm a Parent" if you were curious). I look back on them from time to time to remember how far we've come. Those first few months were overwhelming to put it gently. I was terrified out of my mind. My entire family was 500 miles away and when our son was 2 weeks old, my husband had to go back on tour Monday-Friday (Sometimes home on Saturday and leaving again on Sunday). We had help come and go, but holy crap was I terrified. Some days I felt like I was barely keeping my head above water. Those weeks when I was totally on my own were dark. I won't go into details, but it was not something I'll look back and think that they were the happiest days of my life, not by a long shot. Those were the days that tested me to my limits. The great part about it was it really showed me what I was capable of. It showed me that I could handle much more than I ever thought possible. Looking back, I feel like I need to give myself some sort of medal for surviving that on my own. Props to single moms, holy cow you are Saints and Olympians rolled into one.

I knew in my heart I loved this little baby, but it was hard to see past the exhaustion and fear to fully grasp that love. Everyone promised "those first couple of months are hard but it gets better quickly," but its so hard to believe! I can remember one entire day (he was exactly 3 weeks old to the day) that he did not stop crying all day. All day. At one point I strapped him in his swing and went and sat in the shower and cried. I felt so ill equipped. I felt like a failure. I thought there was absolutely no way I was ever doing this again, and people with more than one child were insane.

I was listening to my favorite radio show the other day (shout out Bobby Bones) and they had a segment about the best day of their lives. Most gave answers about their weddings and children's births, and it got me thinking. If I was being honest, his birthday was not the best day of my life. It was terrifying, painful, emotional, and terrifying again. Then I felt like I huge piece of crap. I mean who says the birth of their child wasn't the best day of their life? Looking back, it absolutely is! The day he entered my life will always be the greatest because I can't imagine my life without him!

However, in the moment, was that the greatest day? If I'm being honest, no. So what was? Easily it was the day I first saw him smile (a real smile mind you, not gas in his sleep). I was sitting on the couch holding him across my body and I thought he was asleep. I randomly looked down and was just staring at me. He all of a sudden started grinning at me. That was the first day I felt like a mom, that was the greatest day of my life.

When we crossed that line from sleeping or crying (no in between) newborn to happy smiling loving baby everything changed. His smile is the greatest most infectious thing ever. That smile makes me want 10 more of him! (Note that is absolutely not going to happen, however I can at least fathom the thought of him not being an only child now).

We live in a world of peoples' "social media lives." No one posts pictures of the diarrhea all over the wall and in your hair. No one posts videos of their baby crying 13 hours a day. I'm just as guilty because we want to share the happy times, especially when friends and family are so far away!
Case in point... the stomach virus

 I say all this to everyone who didn't stand over the crib and cry the night you came home from the hospital because you loved them so much. If you stood over the crib and cried because you didn't know what the hell you were doing and you felt anxious and overwhelmed and terrified, this is for you. It absolutely gets better.

So far 4 months is definitely my favorite stage. I'm writing this to myself who in 2 months will probably be going crazy because he is in to everything! He's definitely making up for those first few months that he refused to be put down and would scream for no reason for hours! He grins every time he sees me and will just sit and hang out with us. He lovesss when I kiss him and it already makes me sad for the day when I know he won't like it anymore!

Being his mom is the greatest adventure of my life, and the war zone that was the first few months was 100% worth it. It was worth every second! I once wondered if everyone was full of crap with the whole love at first sight thing, but I'll have to agree with you Jane...my heart is irrevocably gone!

Vietnam

Today sucked. There is no better way for me to put it. Jacob left to go back on radio tour. I am incredibly proud of all he has accomplished and that he gets to live his dream every day. That being said, I wasn't ready for him to leave again. Radio tour is Sunday or Monday through Friday or Saturday every week. This means he will only be home for max 2 days for another month or so. This is hard to swallow when you have a 2 week old and the hormones of a 14 year old on crack. My sister sent me the greatest email to show me I'm not alone in the misery of the first two weeks, or Vietnam as she calls it. Below is her email, whether she likes it published or not. It was too perfect not to share.

"The first few weeks of being a mother.  It's full of peaceful babies sleeping soundly on your chest, trying on tiny little precious baby clothes, and precious bath times.  Well this is the lie instagram tells you.  For me, it was more like some sort of war zone where you seriously wonder how you ever thought this whole "parenting" thing was something you were equipped for.  In the middle of the second week, I remember texting several friends who had babies asking "whyyyy did you not tell me it was going to be like this?"  I was literally convinced everyone on Earth had these little angel babies and mine just hated me as a person.  My friend Kim in particular was one of the first messages.  She has twins.  2 of these things to deal with.  HOW.  No really, I want to know.  Her response was one that seemed across the board with my friends, and one that I am now the proud owner of.  You forget.  I don't know if it's some weird sort of PTSD where that part of your memory curls up in the fetal position in your brain and refuses to be touched, or if it's like Kim said, and it really is God's way of making sure you have more kids.  I'm writing this down to hope that it'll make you smile while holding your fussy little meatball and know without a doubt that the really fun stuff is lurking right around the corner.

1. You will access some freak part of your brain that allows you to be perfectly awake when you have not slept in days.  Seriously, this is a superpower or something that must have come from radioactive spider somewhere.  It's impressive.  That being said, after about the first 10 days, that wears off and you look and feel the exact amount of tired you are. 

There were days I totally forgot to brush my teeth, and times when I would get out of the shower and seriously wonder if i actually washed my hair.  I remember telling Jacob one night I was so tired I physically hurt.  I wasn't exaggerating. They literally torture people by keeping them awake for days on end, and not only are you expected to do this, you're supposed to be in charge of another life.  The good news is that as soon as the baby starts sleeping stretches of 4-5 hours, you'll feel like you got a week's worth of sleep.

2. You may not really like your baby at the beginning.  I mean, you'll love him/her and know full well you'd commit murder for them, but you may not really like them.  This is OK.  You're sleep deprived, they're crying all the time, and you haven't been puked on this much since college.  My wonderful pediatrician put it in these terms.  The first 6 weeks are the hardest because they take a lot from you, but give nothing back.  This is so true.  The baby doesn't interact, doesn't smile, and it's questionable if they can tell you from Trigger (my dog).   If you're baby is anything like mine, there will be a lot of crying, and a lot of frustration why you can't make it stop.  Remember this, babies have immature nervous systems.  If they get too stimulated, what ensues is comparable to an Irish banshee.  Just bad.  There was one day where she started crying when she woke up, and didn't stop until she went to bed.  All I could do was put her in the stroller, put on a ball cap, and walk around the neighborhood and cry too.  Good news:  this is very temporary.  It definitely doesn't feel like it at the time, but by 6 weeks the baby actually smiles aside from gas.  This is a game changer.  Side note:  I am a fan of the pacifier.  Baby is fed, changed, burped and still screaming, I had no problem plugging up that little gullet with a soothie.  Never experienced any confusion either, big girl always knew where her meal was coming from.

3.  Hormones are real and worse than you could imagine.

 I mean your crying will rival that of a 16 year old throwing a fit because she didn't get her super sweet 16 MTV promised.  I'm not a crier.  I cried a lot.  Emotional meltdown when my mom left.  Emotional meltdown when baby went on a hunger strike and decided she couldn't be bothered with the work of breastfeeding.  Emotional meltdown that I had a healthy baby and I was complaining about all of the above.  It's just really hard to manage this heightened sense of emotions.  You will start crying because you're so ready for your baby to just fall asleep already, then cry more because you realize they are only this little for a while, and you want to cherish it (but you actually hate it).  Men: beware.  You will never say anything right, and you'll think they slipped us some of what Dr. Jeckyl took while we were in the hospital .  Your job is simple.  Help as much as you can.  Never complain about being tired (this is what the guys in your office are for).  Tell us how pretty we are (covered in sweat, baby vomit, no shower for 2 days and definitely no hair brush).  Take any/all abuse we throw at you because it's just not our fault.  Good news.  About 4 weeks in you should feel that you have control over yourself again, and although you still feel a little emotional, the hurricane that just occurred has ended.  That being said, there is a real difference between baby blues and real PPD.  My doctors really glazed over this in my appointments so you have to be your own advocate.  There is NO shame in admitting you're feeling worse than you think you should.  In no way does this mean you are less of a parent.  I'm a firm believer in modern medicine (read I'll have an epidural please), so I do believe things happen at a cellular level in the brain with regards to depression.  When's the last time you controlled anything at your cellular level? Answer: never.  Sometimes things are bigger than you are and need outside help.

4.  Accepting help does not make you a bad mom.  In case you haven't noticed a theme, my recurring thought throughout the first few weeks was that certain decisions would mean I was inadequate as a parent and people would judge me for it.  I tried to do everything.  Once Jacob went back to work, I even felt guilty letting him get out of bed to change a diaper at night.  This just does not work.  If you have help available, always say yes.  ALWAYS.  I was so very lucky.  My mom and mother in law are Saint Pamela and Saint Brigette respectively.  They really got us through those first few weeks, and are still doing it.  It was hard for my type-a perfectionist self to admit I couldn't do it all, but once I just gave in and let my mom take the baby for 2 hours early in the morning so I could sleep a little longer, I felt like a weight was lifted.  Through this process you have got to take care of yourself.  I realized I couldn't be the amazing mom I wanted to be if I didn't occasionally get a good nap, or just spend some time sitting in a chair not trying to console a baby.  Happy mom really does mean happier baby.

5.  Breastfeeding is a son of a bitch.  There.  I said it.  There is no subject more polarizing and more full of judgement than this.  You will get very bad advice from both ends of the spectrum.  Some people will tell you how horrible it is and to give up quickly or not to try because it's so bad.  Others will tell you that you're literally hurting your baby by not breastfeeding until age 2.  I like to think I fall in the middle.  I think everyone should try.  Breast milk is no doubt the best thing for your baby.  That being said, if you're struggling to the point of teetering on depression, or you're baby is failing to thrive, seek help.  Talk to your pediatrician.  Call your hospital's help line.  Try the LLL.  If you just can't make it work for you, IT IS OK.  Again, (sticking with the theme here) it doesn't make you less of a mom.  Trust your instincts.  I think the stopping point is different for everyone, even baby to baby.  At 8 weeks I decided it was time to cut back in preparation for going back to work (list of reasons here but that will suffice) and in preparation for getting on a plane the next week.  We successfully cut down to just nursing at morning and night, and had absolutely no difficulty.  For me, the most content I have ever seen my child happened immediately after her first bottle with 1/2 formula.  It confirmed my decision that it was the right time.  Again, its different for everyone, but my biggest advice is don't let anyone pressure you when you feel you're doing what's best for your child.  You want to supplement in the hospital, fine.  You want to breastfeed your 4 year old on the subway?  Fine.  Lets just all stop judging and making moms feel guilt, we have plenty that comes from within.

Overall for us, the 6-8 week mark was magic.  That's when the personality really started coming out, when she started sleeping through the night, and when we finally had periods of wakefulness that didn't solely include crying. 

Some people do have a terribly easy time.  Some people have it even harder than I did.  My utmost respect goes out to those people who are doing it alone, live away from family, or have a child with special needs.  I do believe God's grace is sufficient, and that lots of prayer will absolutely get you through the roughness to the part where you begin to really enjoy the wonderful 180 your life has just done.  Upward and onward to the struggles that will begin as time goes on....daycare next week (someone put me on suicide watch), teething, potty training, and high school prom."

Thanks to my sister for keeping it real and helping me understand that it's not just me. Hopefully this makes some other people laugh and helps them to feel a little less alone during Vietnam as well.

Holy Crap We're Parents

Warning...This is the story of Sutton's birth. There might be some details that you never needed to have, but I wanted to keep it real. It's also super long, so you have been warned! Lots of my friends have asked about how everything went, and functioning on 2 hours of sleep makes responding to texts low on the priority totem pole. I also included some things I learned through this process, which will hopefully help someone else out!

For months (after having a front row seat to my sisters c-section) I begged my doctor to just let me go in for one. The whole thought of labor terrified me, plus I had no confidence I could actually birth a child. Side note- turns out I couldn't. Despite my whining and moaning she didn't budge, and the day after my due date, we went in for an induction.

These people have no idea what they're in for...but does anyone really?

Walking into the hospital that morning, I can only describe my emotions as a dorky 5 year old walking into kindergarten for the first time. You know there's no way you're getting out of going into this building, but every instinct is telling you to run home. I was terrified and cried a little. Let's keep in mind here that I am a classic over reactor and incredibly dramatic, so if you have not had a bambino don't let that scare you too much.

Around 7am I was hooked up to all kind of monitors and the party got started. They broke my water immediately and then told me scary news #1 for the day. Sutton decided to go ahead and poop before he came out, so there was meconium swimming around in there with him. We were informed we wouldn't hear him cry when he was born so they they could make sure to clear his airways. Cue emotional breakdown #2 for the day. No one wants to hear from the get go even the smallest thing is wrong.

 I made it until about 10am without asking for the good drugs, I was pretty proud of myself. They asked me a few times if I was ready, but I wanted to "feel labor" for some idiotic reason. To anyone who thinks they can do it without the drugs... more power to you. When my contractions were lasting a minute each and were only 2 minutes apart, let me just tell you that this labor business is no joke.

So I got the drugs. They asked me if a student could do my epidural. I refrained from cursing at the nurse that asked, which I considered a win. The lovely nurse who did the epidural missed the first time, so I got to experience that fun twice. Despite this discomfort, it was welcomed. I proceeded to watch a Pretty Little Liars marathon for the next several hours, because I am a 15 year old trapped in a 28 year old's body. After the epidural you can't feel anything, so it's pretty easy going.

Let me just say that our little meatball has been a bit on the lazy side from the get go. At 38 weeks I had an ultrasound he refused to wake up for, so they hooked me up to all kind of monitors and scared the crap out of me...just to tell me he was only sleepy. He continued onto his path of being dramatic like his mom throughout the day. As soon as I got the epidural, my blood pressure decided to hit the floor (which is common). They brought in the nice lady with the drugs, and she gave me something to help that, which made it go up too high. "Short people are just hard to regulate"... sorryyyyyy for that lady. Well during this process Sutton's heart rate decided to play a game of hopscotch. At one point it got so low the nurse called in my doctor and the doctor on call in the hospital. At this point I was hysterical, even my sister (the normally emotionless one) was crying. Just as my doctor, who literally sprinted from her office across the street, arrived they got him to wake up. At this point I had already had 3 emotional breakdowns and it was only 2pm. I started begging for them to just get him out where they could take care of him, and again... my lack of Md lead them to ignore me. Instead, they just gave me a sweet oxygen mask to wear...which did not include the laughing gas that I asked for.

Around 4:30 or 5, I really have no idea what time, my sister started pacing around the monitors looking all serious. This is never a good sign. The nurse came in and told me Sutton's heart rate had now gone way up and was staying up. I also decided to spike a fever which was fun. At this point, I was totally over it. I had been at 6 cm for 3 hours, so this little guy was refusing to play it cool. My doctor came in and set on my bed and told me she thought the c-section I asked for since 30 weeks was our best bet. (Told ya so). Now, you'd think I would've been happy. Nope, panic attack. Started again balling uncontrollably. (If you haven't caught onto a trend here, I don't handle stress and hormones well at all...I feel really bad for my nurse Sarah Beth, who was great). All of a sudden there were 10 people in my room all asking me questions and talking over one another and it totallyyyy freaked me out.  Here is Jacob after they wheeled me out...he missed the meltdown completely.

In the OR, I finally calmed down when the nurses started complimenting my toenail polish. I guess I just needed something to take my mind off of the fact that I was about to be ripped open. Now, they tell you you don't feel pain, just "tugging"...HA. If tugging means you're pretty sure someone is standing on the bed pulling your abdomen across the room, then sure. I made a huge mistake at this point by telling them I could feel pain on my left side (probably due to the whole 2 epidural thing). My lovely anesthesiologist right by my head wasn't about to let me feel anything, so she told me she was giving me something that "might make me sleepy". Understatement of the century. Luckily, I remember hearing Sutton cry (and I started crying again, only this time happy tears), and that is about it. Apparently I was pretty coherent here, but unfortunately I don't remember. 

As all of our family met our baby for the first time, I was unconscious (snoring according to my sister, thanks) in the corner. This absolutely broke my heart. I remember fighting the sleepiness and trying to look at him. I had my sister walk up and then back so I could try and focus on him opening 1 eye at a time, no luck. It would be about 2 hours until I could actually process the person I gave birth to. I would've much rather felt some pain than missed this, but we made up for lost time. I have the most beautiful little boy in the world, and no, it's not up for debate!

I hate that his birth story isn't a unicorns and butterflies story, but I wanted to share it because I was only prepared for some of the scariness based on stories my friends (or random pinterest blogs) told me. The 3 nights in the hospital weren't a breeze either, but I'll spare you those details. Here's some things I would highly recommend though if you are having a baby any time in the near or not so near future.

• Don't freak out. Take it from me, have someone with you that can calm you down and not over react and scare you even more. My husband is great, but I really needed my sister there. She just went through this process 10 weeks ago, and she is pretty much the most level headed person I know. Along with this, don't plan to have a room full of people when you're in labor, unless you think you can handle it. Things can get dramatic quickly, and if you have a ton of people it can scare them, which will scare you. I didn't let my sister or Jacob tell anyone what was going on until after, because I couldn't handle anyone else being as worried as I was.
• Over share time: Invest in these 2 gems, especially if you have a c-section. DO NOT attempt to put on in the hospital while your belly is still super tender. I made this mistake and it was terrible. The day after we got home I put them both on and wear them 24/7. It seriously helps with shrinking your tummy and helping you sit up, sit down, and pick up the baby with your incision. I think it would still be great for a vaginal delivery as well.
  
• Send your baby to the nursery. A lot of people disagree with this, but you cannot heal (and no matter the route you will be healing) if you aren't sleeping. The nurses will bring the baby back when they are hungry, but you need some rest! One of my nurses made it clear she didn't support this, and it was really hard for me to ask for them to take him. The first night I was so out of it they had to. The second night I felt bad asking so I literally did not sleep. AT ALL. The pediatrician came in around 7am and I was balling (seriously, notice a pattern). She told me to send him and not feel bad about it. 
• Bring a paci to the hospital. They will not give you one, and they will tell you not to use it for 2 weeks. However, when they are screaming at 3am and not hungry, you'll be glad you did. Again, if you really disagree... don't bring one. I just know I found it helpful, and I have several friends who were breast feeding that did as well.
• If you feel like your baby is extremely hungry, don't be upset if you need to supplement. My awesome pediatrician also recommended this. Our little boy was having plenty of diapers, but I knew from his screaming something was wrong. Turns out he lost more than 12% of his body weight in the hospital, which is more than normal. When I asked the nurse to give him a little formula to supplement, she literally argued with me and I had to push the issue, which is upsetting. We started supplementing at night and he gained back 10 oz in 4 days. Breast feeding is fantastic, but it doesn't make you a bad mom if its not going 100% according to plan and you need to change things up! I've had to end up only pumping and giving bottles and a little formula at night.
• Ask for help and stay on top of your pain medicine. My wonderful nurse Heather...shout out you were amazing, wrote on my dry erase board what time I could have each drug next. If she didn't come in I would always call. There were a couple of times when I missed a dose in the middle of the night because I was too tired to call...bigggg mistake. She also made me feel like I wasn't crazy when I cried and actually hugged me when I was having a breakdown. She was just so sweet and calm and it's exactly what I needed. Not all nurses are as great as Heather.

Basically, don't be scared to do what YOU think is best if your baby and yourself. You are also in the hospital as a patient, and you need to follow your instincts. It's like your wedding day, something is bound to go not according to plan, and you just have to roll with the punches, because at the end of the day you will have a perfect tiny human being who you will love more than anything. You will be overwhelmed and feel under prepared, but its crazy how naturally everything will come.

Nursery!

The nursery is finally complete! As soon as we found out Sutton was a boy, I knew I wanted a Louisiana theme! Hey, if he can't live there he should at least know where he's from :)

Click here for the fat belly bump picture and the update on life!

The lamp, curtains, and laundry hamper are Pottery Barn and the table is Target! One of my best friends, Kim Swart, made this bulldog when she worked at Tech! I obviously had to include it in the nursery!

Our crib was previously owned by my sweet friend Chelsea! The chair and blanket are Pottery Barn and the pillow is from Townsend House in Ruston. It has a little heart where Ruston is on the map :)

Of course he had to have a monogram, but I tried to make it manly ;) All of his bedding is from Pottery Barn!

Of course Trigger had to be in a picture. He stood and posed like this until I took the picture, and then he walked out. Heaven forbid he be left out!

The bear on the bookshelf was given to us at StorkVision of Nashville when we found out Sutton was a boy! If you squeeze it, you hear his heartbeat when he was 15 weeks! The owner actually graduated high school with my dad at Ruston High! Sometimes the world is crazy small! 

Love this frame that Aunt Michelle bought!

I saw this quote on Pinterest and fell in love with it! I'm sure we don't even understand how true this is yet!