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The Mommy Sleepover – Why You Need It

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The Mommy Sleepover and Why YOU Need It!

Every little girl waits in anticipation of her first sleepover. As soon as it’s over, she’s ready for another. We spend our entire childhood begging our parents to either let us stay at a friend’s house or let our friend stay with us. When we go off on our own, we frequently continue these sleepovers with our closest friends. Something happens though when we start living with a partner, in that these occurrences happen less and less. Eventually, sleepovers fade out entirely as we embrace adulthood and start families of our own.

But why?

Why do we do this? What says that, as grown adults, we can’t enjoy the company of other friends all night long, wake up and have breakfast, and go about our day. There was something so pure and joyous in eating your weight in pizza and snacks, pouring your hearts out about that cute boy, and seeing who could stay up the longest.

Why once you hit a certain age do sleepovers cease to exist?

The truth is…they don’t have too.  Insert: The Mommy Sleepover.

I remember meeting two of my best girlfriends a few years ago and they said they still had a “mommy sleepover”. I laughed and then I realized they were serious. What!? That’s genius. And I wanted in on it. Some time went by, but we eventually made plans for our first mommy/daughter sleepover a few months ago.

It was perfection!

The kids played with each other and partied until midnight when we eventually made them lay down (they clearly would have outpartied us). We had tons of food, wine, and movies. We reminisced about the music we listened to growing up and how it was completely inappropriate. (Hit play below at your own risk). We just enjoyed each other’s company.

The inner little girl in us all desperately wants to do this. There was something so refreshing about being able to stay up and gab all night with your closest friends.  Our souls felt reenergized after being able to not think about anything else but fun and friendship for an entire night. We were able to put away the anxiety and depression that each of us face at times thanks to maternal hormones throwing us all for a loop since birthing our children. And in the morning we were rejuvenated to take on the world again. Even if only for the 2.5 seconds before one of our kids started screaming at us again. 

So here’s your “double dare”. Grab a few of your closet friends. Then, plan out a date/time, food, and whose house your mommy sleepover will be out. We always choose to have our kids with us, but feel free to ditch them too! Then, let the fun begin!

Here’s some things that may help:


7 Things Moms Can Learn From April the Giraffe

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Congrats to April the Giraffe!

I hear it all the time,

  • “she was in labor for 4 days”,
  • “the baby got stuck”,
  • “my sister was confined to the bed”,
  • “I wasn’t allowed to eat”

Since when did giving birth become so medicalized.  Reading the comments as April the Giraffe was giving birth over the last few weeks, has made it clear that many think this is all normal. It’s sad really at the mundaneness that birth has become, especially in the United States.  Home births and midwives are seen as cooky, but drugging moms and strapping them to the bed is seen as perfectly normal.

Now, before there’s a witch hunt, I do know that there are plenty of medical reasons that a birth does need to be medicalized, but let’s not forget that out of developed nations, the United States is the only one increasing in maternal mortality rate, up 136% in the last 20 years, according to the World Health Organization. 

Here’s 7 Things Moms Can Learn From April the Giraffe:

  1. Don’t rush a baby
    • Babies know when their due date should be. Even if you know your exact conception date, you don’t know if your baby needs a few extra days or weeks to finish fully developing inside the womb. Just because you hit 40 weeks, doesn’t mean that is the end all be all. (Coming from a mom who carried her babies to 40+4 and 41 weeks)
  2. Walking helps get the baby out faster
    • Laying down on a bed is typically the worst thing a mom can do to deliver her baby faster and easier on the body.  Squatting, moving, walking, dancing, all help to get that baby in a proper position allowing your body to expel the baby easier.
  3. Your body knows what to do
    • One of the most amazing things to see happen while watching April the Giraffe give birth is that her body knew exactly what to do.  Hooves out, wait a few hours.  Head out, wait. Push a bit. Wait.  Push some more. Wait.  Birthing a baby takes time.
  4. Breach births can happen
    • Very few doctors are even trained to deliver breach births in this medical climate, but the fact of the matter is that mammals can and do give breach births.
  5. Interventions aren’t necessary
    • No one was in that room and that mama knew exactly what to do. Our bodies, for thousands of years, did not have all these interventions. While they are great in the extremest of situations, most births don’t warrant any interventions.
  6. It’s completely normal for mammals to eat parts of their birth
    • I’m sure I’m going to get flake for this one, but let’s not judge a mom who decides that placenta encapsulation is what’s best for her family. April the Giraffe was eating the sac around her baby, which just goes to show that what you may think is gross, isn’t naturally all that gross after all.
  7. Shit Happens
    • Literally.  My 4 year old was so grossed out that poop was falling onto the baby, but can we stop making this such a taboo thing.  Everyone poops. Now carry on.

I’m sure there’s more lessons we can learn, but there’s are just the ones that popped into my head immediately! Congrats to April the Giraffe on the birth of her adorable little one!  Now the hard part begins…naming that baby!

Colostrum is Enough

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colostrum is enoughColostrum is enough.  

If you don’t read anything else I write below, please tell yourself that colostrum is enough to nourish and feed your baby.

I was fortunate enough to have found an amazing support group of moms before having our first girl.  Not only were there experienced moms in my group, but there were L&D nurses, lactation consultants, doulas, midwives, and even an IBCLC with decades of experience.  I can’t say that I would have been as successful at breastfeeding without these groups and these amazing women standing by my side through every difficult moment, especially with my first.

It’s seem funny to think that I had times when I questioned myself or my milk as I’ve now breastfed for 1,500 consecutive days. However, there were absolutely times where I did. Most of those questions came in the first few weeks of having a child, but especially the first few days.

  • Why was my baby crying constantly?
  • Why was she sleeping so much?
  • Why did she nurse for 3 minutes, unlatch, and then cry again 5 minutes later?
  • Why did it seem like she was nursing every hour for an hour around the clock?
  • Why can I barely get anything out if I try to hand express? (or pump)

This and so many more questions filled my mind and that was only in the first 24 hours after birth. No one wants to starve their child, but our country also isn’t set up in a way that supports knowledge given out accurately either.  We seem to forget in our after-birth high that millions of women have done this before us in a time where formula wasn’t readily available.  Yet, in still, we allow formula reps to push sugar laden pre-made mixtures down the throats of this life we just created without question, because “they know best”.  Do they? Or is your body, the same body that created a new organ to nourish a new human being in a matter of months, actually know what it’s doing?

Please stop questioning your body’s ability to provide for your child.  

Colostrum is 100% enough to feed your baby until your milk comes in whether that’s day 1 or day 5. Whether you have a 5lb baby or a 10lb baby.

Colostrum is the yellowish, thick, milk that is extremely high in carbs, antibodies, and protein produce as the perfect first food for your baby. Colostrum also acts as a laxative to help pass stools in the early days, thus expelling meconium and bilirubin. While it’s low in volume, the more often you breastfeed those first few days, the faster your milk will come in.  Every time that you give formula instead of putting your baby at your breast, you are halting that process.

Your mature milk typically comes in around day three or four. For most moms, they are home by this time. Therefore, unless there is a medical emergency, there’s no reason why formula should be given to a breastfeeding mother in the hospital.

3 Goals for New Baby

  • Breastfeed 8-12 times every 24 hours after birth (the more the better).
    • Strictly breastfeeding mothers cannot overfeed their baby, but they can underfeed
  • Watch diaper output
    • Whether you can hand express or pump 1/2 teaspoon or 2 ounces doesn’t matter.  Every mother is different.  What matters is that your baby is peeing and pooping. Typically one wet and one dirty diaper for every day of life (1 diaper each on Day 1, 2 diapers each on day 2, etc).  Around day 4-5 when your milk starts to come in, you can expect at least 5-6 wet diapers a day.
  • Watch weight (the baby’s weight, not yours)
    • You will have a weight check at around 3 days, 1 week, 2 week.  If you received any fluids during your labor, this could inflate the baby’s weight loss and shouldn’t be counted towards birth weight.
    • Make sure they are using the same scale with the same amount of clothes every time (preferably naked)

Diaper output and weight are literally the only things you should be watching.  No matter how often the baby cries, no matter how often they unlatch and relatch, just nurse.

Grab a box of chocolates, a gallon of water, and hang out on the couch to binge watch your favorite Netflix series.

Remember, your baby’s stomach is the size of a marble on day one.  Not much needs to come out to fill that up!

size of newborn's stomach

Breastfeeding isn’t a cake walk, but your colostrum is enough. 

Disclosure: We are not a medical professional and the information offered here is our opinion based on our knowledge and education. If concerned, it’s best to seek out information on your own and speak with your own medical professionals that you trust. We always recommend seeing a lactation consultant for breastfeeding concerns. 


It Happened #RoadtoTubalat30

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roadtotubalat30

Read our Introduction to #RoadToTubalAt30 Series First here.

November 25, 2016.

Surgery day arrived.

I checked into the hospital around 11am (side note: not eating after midnight usually sucks, so I highly recommend scheduling the day after a holiday. I was still pretty full from Thanksgiving AND I had leftovers for after surgery!). After changing into the hospital gown, getting my vitals checked, and taking a pregnancy test (just in case), it was a waiting period. Of course that left me with nothing but time to think about the decision I was making even more. I was told my doctor would be in after she finished the current surgery she was doing. Once she came in, she asked one more time, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” I commend them for making sure, but I was definitely over being asked by this point.

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It was around 12:30pm before I would be taken into surgery. The anesthesiologist came in and said they would be putting the medicine in my IV to knock me out. I don’t remember going past the curtain and the next thing I remember was waking up so thirsty.

The recovery begins. 

I remember feeling so much better than I imagined.  It felt like the worst period cramps I’ve ever had, but definitely better than what I felt like after giving birth. My throat (from being intubated) actually annoyed me more than anything. My entire stomach was orange from the iodine used to sterilize before surgery. I was swollen/bloated for about 4-5 days afterwards which is due to them expanding your stomach for the surgery. I was so tired for the next 48 hours.

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I’ll admit I was really nervous when I first saw my incision sites. They looked disgusting to me. I was going to have these horrible scares for the rest of my life. Much to my amazement, I barely have anything now.

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Especially the belly button site, you can barely see anything because the actual scare is inside of the belly button.

tubal-ligation-photos

There were some day that looked worst than others.  Dermabond, a surgical glue, was used instead of stitches, so when that started peeling I felt like I looked like someone off of a horror movie.

dermabond-tubal-ligation

Other than my scars, I was advised not to shower for 24 hours after surgery, afterwards I could shower, but not bathe. No driving until I felt comfortable moving my legs to switch back and forth. I did drive a week after surgery and the seatbelt irritated incision sites, but I’m great now.  I could not lift more than 10lbs and no intercourse for 2 weeks.

Full transparency – I tried my best but had to lift my toddler here and there, she was an awesome sport during the recovery though and did so much by herself, like climbing into her highchair or up on the couch without me asking.  I did sit with a pillow across my stomach when sitting or laying down in bed. It was the only time it really hurt was when one of the girls accidentally hit one of the sites.

We are now just shy of one month post surgery and I am amazed how I feel.  You can barely see any of my scars. I have no pain from any of them, and most importantly I no longer have the fear of getting pregnant again (though Andrew has definitely asked what if they didn’t do anything and just said they did —thanks babe). 

We are so happy with our decision. 

Thank you for reading through our #RoadtoTubalat30 journey.

If you missed any of the previous posts, you can read the entire series:

Feel free to tweet us at @wereparents or e-mail us at info@wereparentsblog.com if there’s any specific questions that weren’t answered that you’d like to know about.

Pin it! 

Don’t have time to read the whole series now? Pin it to read later.

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Worries, Doubts and Fears about a Tubal Ligation #RoadtoTubalat30

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roadtotubalat30

Read our Introduction to #RoadToTubalAt30 Series First here.

The seven days between scheduling and having our pre-op appointment was the biggest mix of emotions I’ve probably ever had in my life.  Every single day I questioned if I was making the right decision.

Most of the emotions surrounded the fact that I was going to be put under general anesthesia for the surgery and the fact that it was an invasive surgery. What if I didn’t wake up? What if I bled out? Andrew barely likes being alone with the girls while I run to the store. How would he handle them by himself? Both girls would immediately be weaned from breastmilk, which would be so traumatic for them.  My goal of homeschooling them would likely never happen. They’ve never been to daycare, what would happen, who would raise them?

So many questions.

Was I truly 100% sure that I would never want another child? Andrew and I were completely both in agreement, but there’s still that microcosm of wonder if it’s the right decision. We had two girls, but we both really wanted a boy.  If I did this, there would never be a chance for me to biologically have a son.

While we both agreed that this was the best way to keep our family together, there was that twinge in the back of everyone’s mind of “what if we aren’t together forever?” That could be from something happening to Andrew or us just physically not being in a relationship anymore. Would I miss out on love in the future if I told someone I couldn’t physically have children anymore?

Pre-op Day.

The worries, doubts, and fears surrounding the day only exacerbated when I went in for our pre-op appointment. It was the day that our doctor made sure this was 100% our decision, answered any questions, and explained the procedure. Thankfully, she didn’t push the issue of whether or not I was sure. I knew I was, so I was praying she didn’t lecture me on only being 30.  I asked a few questions like length of surgery, recovery time, etc. She then went on to explain the procedure and discuss a decision that I needed to make.

Still called a tubal ligation, I needed to decide if I wanted my tubes tied versus removed. They now recommend completely removing the tubes instead of “tying” or “burning” them. The main reason she stated was because it lowers the risk of ovarian cancer since it often starts in the tubes. Without tubes, you also remove the risk of an ectopic pregnancy. Surgery time would increase by about 10-15 minutes and I would have one additional incision site (3 instead of 2).

The biggest thing was without tubes there was 0% chance of ever getting pregnant again. There were no questions, no possibility of a reversal, it was a 100% lasting decision. Given that the benefits far outweighed any risks, we decided for a complete tubal removal. We kept the surgery on schedule and the next 11 days would continue to pose all of these questions even more until it was surgery day.

Stay tuned…..

Over the next few weeks I’m going to be writing about our decision for me to undergo a tubal ligation at 30 on Mondays and Wednesdays (2 times a week). You can follow along with #RoadtoTubalat30 – 

If you missed any of the previous posts, you can read the entire series:

I hope you’ll follow along!  Feel free to tweet us at @wereparents or e-mail us at info@wereparentsblog.com if there’s any specific questions that you hope we answer over the next few posts.

The Scare #RoadtoTubalat30

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roadtotubalat30

Read our Introduction to #RoadToTubalAt30 Series First here.

October 9, 2016. The scare of my life came.

Andrew and I had already decided that we wouldn’t be having any more kids.  After the ups and downs over the last year and a half, we couldn’t go through anymore stress to our relationship. We wanted a happy home with happy kids who were raised by both parents.  We knew another child would likely ruin that from happening.

For a week prior to this date, I was cramping and nauseous. Originally, I didn’t think anything about it. I was 16 months postpartum and still hadn’t gotten my period yet, so it had to be coming back and that’s why I was experiencing these feelings. After a week though, just for giggles, I decided I’d take a pregnancy test.  I had one left in the house from the time I became pregnant with the baby. I peed on the stick and walked away.  I knew it was going to be negative.  I was breastfeeding two kids, I was taking my birth control religiously, and I hadn’t had my period yet (yes, I know periods aren’t an indication of ovulation…but still). 

I walked back in after the designated time period to a positive test. I immediately text my best friend this….

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This wasn’t a “take a guess and let me know if you see a faint line” type of pregnancy test. This was a big, fat, digital YES.  Andrew had the same reaction when I told him. Holy shit, what happened. I immediately welled up with huge crocodile tears.  I remember telling him, “I can’t go through this again.” I knew we could not have another child, despite my never-ending love for my girls.

I went out and bought two more tests.  I took another one that evening and another the next morning.

Both said negative.

Now, we were really confused.  How could I start processing these emotions if I didn’t even know? After the negative test that morning, I waited until my doctor’s office opened and called for an appointment.  Luckily, they could get me in the same day. The test in the office was again, negative.  The doctor told me it was likely a false positive, even though that’s insanely rare, especially with a digital test.  She recommended that I wait a week, and test again.

While I was there, I asked if we could talk about having a tubal done. I kid you not, my doctor literally bust out laughing when I said this. She said that was definitely an option, but gave me information about various IUDs as an alternative she wanted me to consider.

On November 2, I ended up going off my birth control for the reasons I discussed in our last post.  Within a few days of going off my birth control pills, I could tell I was feeling like a better person.  I spent the next few days thoroughly researching all of my options, asking for opinions, and just doing my due diligence.  Ultimately, I decided that a getting my tubes tied was the best option for my family.  I read and heard personal stories about negative side effects of the various IUDs, including unexpected pregnancies and that wasn’t something I was willing to risk. On November 7, I called to schedule for my tubal ligation. I was thinking in my head they would schedule it for sometime in the beginning of 2017.

The nurse came back on the line, “Can you do the day after Thanksgiving? The 25th?”

Me: “Umm…(hesitation)..sure.”

Me in head: “Holy crap.  That’s in 18 days.”

We scheduled my pre-op appointment for November 14th. The next 7 days were an extreme mixed bag of emotions.

Stay tuned…..

Over the next few weeks I’m going to be writing about our decision for me to undergo a tubal ligation at 30 on Mondays and Wednesdays (2 times a week). You can follow along with #RoadtoTubalat30 

If you missed any of the previous posts, you can read the entire series:

I hope you’ll follow along!  Feel free to tweet us at @wereparents or e-mail us at info@wereparentsblog.com if there’s any specific questions that you hope we answer over the next few posts.

The Last 18 Months #RoadtoTubalat30

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roadtotubalat30

Read our Introduction to #RoadToTubalAt30 Series First here.

I’m just going to get right to the point. The last 18 months have been a rocky up and down nightmare. We have had amazing moments, we have had celebrations, but we’ve had tormenting lows as well. I debated sharing this post for just as long. Ultimately, as a blogger though, my goal is to let other families, especially mothers, with this series, know they aren’t alone. While so often, we don’t talk about these feelings, it’s insanely common for them to be the reality of many moms. 

I remember driving to my 6 week postpartum appointment.  I told my practitioner how I’d been feeling, I answered the survey they give. She said it all sounded normal and to call back if anything changed. Looking back on this moment, I wish I would have spoken up. I walked to the car, buckled the girls into their seats, and just cried. I knew something was wrong, I knew that this was more than “baby blues”, but I didn’t speak up louder.

Nothing changed, but nothing got better. 

For the next four and a half months I was on, what felt like, a roller coaster. I had these amazing moments with my kids and with Andrew, but when it wasn’t amazing, it was terrible. There was no in between. I yelled constantly. Everything annoyed me. I felt let a horrible mom. The foggy feelings would leave me so helpless I didn’t want to leave the house and the mood swings left me questioning my ability to raise my girls in a stable home, as well as hurt my relationship.

I was paranoid of everything which left me terrified to do anything.

I remember standing, making sure the garage door closed all the way because I was scared if I didn’t watch it go all the way down that someone would slide under the door before it closed. These were the types of thoughts I had. Every time, I would tell myself how crazy I was being, but I couldn’t shake it. These episodes would last weeks at a time and effect so much of my personal and professional life. Around 6 months postpartum, I couldn’t take it anymore. It wasn’t normal. I had to put my personal feelings aside and seek help.

I was diagnosed that day with Postpartum Depression and Anxiety. 

That still seems so weird to say. I wasn’t supposed to have this.  I wasn’t supposed to be affected. Our life was (is) great. We have two healthy kids, a beautiful house we’re remodeling, a thriving business, etc. It just went to show me that this disease can affect anyone. I went on medication that day and within a week I was feeling like a better person. My mood swings, all but disappeared.  Don’t get me wrong, I still got upset with my kids, I still yelled occassionally, but for once I felt like a normal mom instead of a monster. Many of my fears went away that day. My feelings were validated and my children weren’t taken from me. I firmly believe I didn’t speak up sooner because I was terrified someone was going to take my kids.

Unfortunately, for the next year, I would still go on to have these foggy episodes, which I later learned were severe anxiety attacks, rendering me almost helpless for weeks at a time. Shortly after learning this, a friend told me that she was experiencing similar feelings and her midwife told to stop taking her birth control. We were on the same birth control, so when I asked her some odd weeks later how she was feeling and she told me much better, I knew it was something I at least had to try.  I had already decided by this point that we wouldn’t be having any more children because I couldn’t go through a similiar experience with now a newborn AND two other kids. I stopped by birth control, but still currently taking my medication for the PPD. It’s been a little over 2 months now and I haven’t had any anxiety attacks since then. Our lives have been even more normal now than ever before and I’ve been so grateful to feel a sense of normalcy returning.

I’ve questioned now if I wasn’t on the same birth control after having both of our girls, if our lives would have been different and I would have wanted to try one more time for another baby.

Stay tuned…..

Over the next few weeks I’m going to be writing about our decision for me to undergo a tubal ligation at 30 on Mondays and Wednesdays (2 times a week). You can follow along with #RoadtoTubalat30 

If you missed any of the previous posts, you can read the entire series:

I hope you’ll follow along!  Feel free to tweet us at @wereparents or e-mail us at info@wereparentsblog.com if there’s any specific questions that you hope we answer over the next few posts.

All Hell Broke Loose #RoadtoTubalat30

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roadtotubalat30

Read our Introduction to #RoadToTubalAt30 Series First here.

**This post was actually the inspiration for this entire series…It was written 2 1/2 weeks after having our second child.  I have been terrified of hitting publish on this piece since then. Well, until today.**

We left the hospital about 30 hours after I gave birth. The first week home went great. Andrew had to work the weekend after the first five days off with us and I cried about being alone with our girls but all was ok. I woke up one day the following week though and told him everything just seemed off. I couldn’t explain really what was going on at the time. I was glad he was home another week because I just couldn’t wrap my head around these feelings. 11391581_10103255335448719_2510419539553763246_n-1

Foggyness. Almost like a déjà vu feeling. Dizziness. Confusion. Those are the three feelings I experienced most often. I was terrified to be left alone with my girls. But I only told him. He just kept telling me my feelings were normal. That I was strong and would be fine. I would get through this.

Sunday came. It was our last day home together. I woke up at 7am and decided to try to treat most of the day as if he wasn’t here so I could see how I did. The girls and I got up and I went downstairs to get breakfast for Serenity and I. I made sure to make myself a bagel and a smoothie to try to help with nutrition.

The feelings continued.

I nursed the girls. Played. And started laundry as I normally would. Around 8:30am Andrew came down and made himself breakfast. I hugged him and tears just rolled down my face. I felt like a stranger in my own home. He again just said it would all be ok.

I started to clean. Sweeping the floor, cleaning the counters. What I really wanted to do was hide in a corner with the lights off and just cry. Maybe a really good cry was what I needed. But I knew it wasn’t. I had cried so many times over the past few days I knew it wouldn’t help anything.

It was time to nurse the baby again. I went through the actions but never really felt present. As she unlatched I began to burp her.  The world just kept spinning and before I knew it I snapped back into reality to realize that the baby had thrown up all over me.

It was terrifying.

What if she gagged while throwing up and I wasn’t coherent enough to realize what just happened. I was terrified that my child was going to die in my hands because I couldn’t snap out of this fog. I was constantly checking on her when she made or didn’t make the tiniest noise because I was scared to miss something and cause her harm. I constantly asked Andrew if he had Serenity because I didn’t remember if she had gone upstairs with him or if I was supposed to be watching her.

It was time to go to the store.

Typically, I try to meal plan but just decided that I would figure it out as the week went along with what we had at home and just get what was on the list for now. I remember looking out the window on the way there. The world was zooming past me and I had no concentration on the world at hand. When we got there I placed the baby in the carrier and Andrew got Serenity out. She was screaming. She wanted to walk but Andrew wanted her in the cart. Her cries were muffled by my racing thoughts throughout the 40 minutes or so in the store. Occasionally, trying to console her, but knowing nothing I did would really calm her down. Just praying we would be able to get out of the store quickly before anyone I knew noticed us. Up and down each aisle looking at all the items but not really putting anything inside the cart. Grabbing a few things here and there in no particular rhyme or reason and just praying I grabbed enough for us to survive the week.

We got home and I took the girls upstairs for a nap. It was the one thing I seemed to be able to do right. Get us to sleep at the right time…together. My mind raced. I couldn’t fall asleep today myself.

I listened to the soft breaths each of my girls took separately. At least I was keeping them alive today. But, how was I going to survive alone with both girls with no help. Starting so soon. Only one more sleep tonight before I was all alone tomorrow. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my face. I was going to mess something up. I was going to fail at this miserably. One of them would get hurt–burned–suffer some how.

I googled my symptoms. Foggyness was the one I focused on because it seemed like if I could get out of the fog that everything else would fall into place. Article after article came back as it being a sign of PPD. Consult my doctor immediately. But I wasn’t depressed. I didn’t want to be labeled. I didn’t want medication. My mom was on medication for depression since I was a child and still on it and didn’t seem happy most days.  I didn’t want to be that mom while on medication. What was the point? It clearly didn’t help. Plus– I didn’t feel depressed. Just foggy. I knew I couldn’t bring up PPD to Andrew because I had when Serenity was about 6 months old and the conversation went south quickly. He simply didn’t understand how I could be depressed with so much positive things happening in our life. Eventually I feel like I got passed it on my own with some minor set backs here and there.

But this was different. Then, I felt truly depressed. Sad. Miserable. But not now. I was happy. Happy to have my girls and my life. It was just the motions of life not making sense.

Did I say something to someone? Now or later? Should I just keep trucking along praying that one day everything would just fall back into place? Was I risking my daughters’ lives if I did that?

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So many “what ifs”. Though I feel like I’ve always loved a what if life experience. But these what ifs were different. What if one of them drowned in the tub? What if I forgot one of them somewhere? What if we went outside and I forgot one of them out there? What if I thought one of them was somewhere in the house but weren’t and got hurt doing something else because I was paying attention?

I finally understood why some of those crazy news stories happened with parents of young children. I had no thoughts of harming my girls, but what if they did get hurt…

I asked Andrew to listen for the girls while I went and grabbed a shower. I took a shower everyday but I didn’t do much else. I barely remembered to put deodorant on and I knew I hadn’t brushed my hair since the day after we got home from the hospital. But the shower had to help right. I could sit down and let the water run over me and it would wash away all the thoughts. All the craziness. And then no one would have to know.

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Stay tuned…..

Over the next few weeks I’m going to be writing about our decision for me to undergo a tubal ligation at 30 on Mondays and Wednesdays (2 times a week). You can follow along with #RoadtoTubalat30 

If you missed any of the previous posts, you can read the entire series:

I hope you’ll follow along!  Feel free to tweet us at @wereparents or e-mail us at info@wereparentsblog.com if there’s any specific questions that you hope we answer over the next few posts.

Second pregnancy – What the hell was I thinking? #RoadToTubalAt30

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roadtotubalat30

Read our Introduction to #RoadToTubalAt30 Series First here.

I knew parenting was going to be hard, but I never knew just how hard it was going to be. After the ups and downs of having just one, Andrew and I both considered that she may be an only child. The mood swings and depression I had, while undiagnosed, almost cost us our entire relationship. Luckily for us, we are both stubborn as mules and refused to give up on our happiness together.

Shortly before Serenity’s second birthday though, I was having aversion to nursing and my boobs were so sore. While I was no longer taking birth control, I was in denial I was pregnant. But…I was pregnant! Okay, I thought, this can be a good thing. I can have a boy, and then we can be really done. Andrew said he was done as soon as we found out, followed up with a resounding “NO MORE” once we found out it was another girl, and once I hit my third trimester I knew she would be the last. Friends would joke with me that there was no way I would be done, but I knew I was. 11295755_10103195857213579_5064592903419574087_n

The second pregnancy was emotionally draining for me (I wrote about it here). Having a two year old jump on your belly accidentally, want to play constantly while you just want to take a nap because you are growing a human, and most of all refuse to give up nursing is exhausting y’all. There were times when my nursing aversion was so bad that I literally felt like I could just throw her across the room. My skin would crawl. Add that to a pregnancy and it’s an emotional cocktail mixed for disaster.

I wanted to spend as much time as I possibly could with her before her sister arrived, but I needed me time. I needed time to rest. I was touched out. How in the world was I bringing another life into this world when I felt some days I could barely keep up with the one I already had. These emotions would leave me crying most days and while I would joke about how it was all the pregnancy hormones, it was really the beginning of realizing this would be the last time I ever felt the magic of growing a human being inside of me….

Stay tuned…..

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Over the next few weeks I’m going to be writing about our decision for me to undergo a tubal ligation at 30 on Mondays and Wednesdays (2 times a week). You can follow along with #RoadtoTubalat30 

If you missed any of the previous posts, you can read the entire series:

I hope you’ll follow along!  Feel free to tweet us at @wereparents or e-mail us at info@wereparentsblog.com if there’s any specific questions that you hope we answer over the next few posts.

No More Babies #RoadToTubalAt30 Series

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roadtotubalat30

If you happened to catch our Facebook page over the holiday weekend, you may have seen that I had surgery on Friday. Specifically, I was going in for a tubal ligation with complete removal of tubes. I know based on messages from a few people who knew before and then others that were just hearing about it, that some people thought I must have gone crazy. We have two beautiful girls, 4 and (almost) 18 months, but how could we be done having kids? Weren’t we going to try for a boy? I am only 30, didn’t I want to *make sure* I was done? There were other options besides surgery, hadn’t I considered those? After having kids, I’ve realized that people say anything when they don’t know the back story behind someone’s decisions. Luckily, I already planned to write this series when I made my decision.

The truth is that of course I’ve considered all these questions. I wouldn’t be making an educated decision without thinking of them right?

Let’s go way back for a minute.  Before we had any children, I never really had a set number in mind. At least two kids and I wanted a boy. Those were my two “goals”. I quickly learned after having my first, that nothing in parenting is ever going to go how anticipated.

  • My baby wasn’t going to sleep in our bed ….we co-sleep.
  • Our kids weren’t going to eat in the car…they do.
  • They wouldn’t throw tantrums in public….HAHAHAHAHHA

Nothing has happened as expected. We didn’t get a boy. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Parenting was and is so daggone hard. Ultimately, I have discovered that you have to block out all the naysayers and do what works best for your family and primarily yourself.  No one else is carrying these babies for you and even having the most supportive partner in the world, the mom is still left to be the primary caretaker in a majority of situations.

Over the next few weeks I’m going to be writing about our decision for me to undergo a tubal ligation at 30 on Mondays and Wednesdays (2 times a week). You can follow along with #RoadtoTubalat30

If you missed any of the previous posts, you can read the entire series:

I hope you’ll follow along!  Feel free to tweet us at @wereparents or e-mail us at info@wereparentsblog.com if there’s any specific questions that you hope we answer over the next few posts.

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