Category :Guests

Mamahood Exposed: Regrets

Hey guys, my Mamahood Exposed series – the good, the bad, the hilarious – continues today with a fabulous post from Michelle of The Momma Bird.  She’s absolutely wonderful, and I especially like how open she is about her regrets and choices.  Enjoy!

Before my 1st was born I made sure I read ALL the books. BabyWise, What To Expect During the First Year, Baby Whisperer…and the list goes on. I had been around kids my entire life but I didn’t have a clue about schedules, growth spurts, eating habits, nursing problems, baby blues. I was excited and nervous about having this baby.

cohen 

When little C was born nothing went how I thought it would. While in the hospital I made sure to let him sleep in the nursery at night in-between feedings. When we got home I made sure to follow those books to a ‘T’. I didn’t hold him all the time. I kept him on a strict schedule. I documented all of his pees & poos. I timed his feedings. I timed the time in-between his feedings. I didn’t nap with him. I made sure he had lots of tummy time. I put him to sleep without rocking. I swaddled him up. I didn’t give him a paci. I was doing what I thought was best for him…..

cohen 

Week 2 of little C’s life was hard for him & me. I had some slight baby blues, he HATED being swaddled, nursing was really hard for both of us (he would only nurse with a shield) and he was already in his own room. (we slept on the floor of his room during this wk bc family was in town and had our room) I remember one day during a late night feeding just crying, silently as to not wake my sleeping husband next to us, because it felt like the whole world was my responsibility now. After a few days that weight was lifted a little bit, but those first few months were hard.

cohen
I was able to be home with little C until he was 4.5 months old. I kept with my rules. No napping together unless sick. No holding all the time. Practice independent play. I did break on some of them – he hated to be swaddled and wanted rocked & nursed to sleep. I figured it was okay to do since it was the only way he’d sleep. I did break this habit at 6 months and he would only get rocked to sleep on rare occasions after that.

cohen
I regret so much of my parenting during that time with C. I look back and feel like I was so distant. Not that I didn’t cuddle & snuggle with him – or love him to pieces – I absolutely did! I just wish I would have taken naps with him. I wish I would have held him close as much as I possible. I wish I would have snuck him into bed with us on random nights to hold him close and smell his sweet baby-ness. I wish I could have stayed home with him & not gone back to work. I wish I knew how fast they grow up and that every moment is so special.

cohen
So now when C wants to ‘lay with me mommy” before he falls asleep, I gladly climb in next to him. When C wants to “sit with me mommy” while watching his favorite cartoons, I smile and plop him in my lap. I steal cuddles every chance I get, I swap eskimo & butterfly kisses when he lets me, and I praise God that I still get these little moments with him before he gets old enough to not want them anymore.
cohencohen

What is your biggest regret in parenting? 

Are you an Mama with  a story to tell?  
Send in your submission to joanna.haughton{at}hotmail{dot}com. 

Mamahood Exposed: Good, Bad, Ugly, And Funny

Here’s an uplifting post in the continuing series about Mamahood.

Good Day Moda Mama Readers!!!! 

I’m Hanna from {bouffe e bambini}. I am honored to be here today guest posting about MOTHERHOOD!!!!!!

Why? 


Because it has changed my life in every way I can possibly imagine!!!!

I have two children. Milton is 2 and Ginger is 11 months. They are 13 months apart. I was literally pregnant for 2 years straight. That is a post all unto itself. 

Lets start with 

THE GOOD:


I have realized that I have COMPLETELY changed and I mean completely. The moment I laid eyes on my sweet baby boy my whole universe changed, everything inside me changed. Suddenly there was no way I could ever find anything to complain about or be grumpy about. I was over filled with JOY and GRATITUDE. It was amazing. It literally happened in a single instant. The way I acted my entire 30 years of life completely changed in a split second. Now, I find myself updating my facebook status everyday about how grateful I am and ordering T-shirts that say things like “YES!!” and “LOVE IS FREE”. I’m just happy, truly happy! I think I drive my husband crazy half the time with my ridiculously happy outlook on everything!!! HA!!!

 

Having children was a revelation for me. Immediately I thought to myself, “What was I doing with my life before I had kids?” For me having children has been the single most important, amazing, life altering experience I’ve ever had. Suddenly I knew my purpose. I knew what I was always meant to do. I was full. All those unanswered questions  about what I should really be doing with my life were answered in an instant. I WAS MEANT TO BE A MOTHER. period.

I feel like my life just only truly began with the birth of my kids.  I love it. I love my life. I love that God gave me these beautiful little beings who changed me forever in the best way I can imagine. They gave me the true meaning of my life. They let me experience the true meaning of real joy.

THE BAD:

Honestly there isn’t that much. For me the bad is having to work full time and that time I have to spend away from children. It literally breaks my heart every single night when I walk out that door for work. If I could, I would be a stay at home mother in an instant. Unfortunately, financially right now it’s not possible for us. I am very thankful that my husband stays home with them while they are still young and we do not send them to daycare. VERY GRATEFUL!

When they are sick it’s bad. It kills me to see them suffer. I would give both arms and legs to heal my babies pain. 


THE UGLY:


  I was a big advocate for natural childbirth for myself and thankfully I was able to have them both 100% drug free. That being said, boy was I in for the shock of my life when I went into full fledged labor. There is no way to possibly explain the intensity of the pain to anyone unless they have gone through it themselves. I was in labor with my son for 17 hours and by the time he was crowning I was SURE I was dying. I was begging the docs to cut  me. I laugh about it now but holy moly….all I can say it that is one hell of an experience. 

So with my daughter, I started getting really bad anxiety at about 6 months pregnant because of the pain. I knew how bad it was going to hurt but luckily she came out 2 hours and 16 minuets after my first contraction so it was more manageable but still hurt just as bad. 

So, the natural birthing process for me was amazing but not as touchy, feely and wonderful as I thought it would be. When my son came out I was so exhausted and in so much pain I could hardly even look at him. 

I think because I am a nurse I am used to dealing with much more disgusting things than my kids could ever bring on:)  A few weeks ago they both had the stomach flu at the same time and I have never been so exhausted in all my life. I was literally running to wash all the crib sheets in the  house as fast as possible because they both still sleep in a crib and they were projectile vomiting everywhere. ALL OVER ME, THE CARPET, THE CRIBS…EVERYWHERE. 

It was definitely ugly!!!! 

THE FUNNY:


For me this is mainly the state in which my house and my mind are left on a daily basis. My house literally looks like a bomb went off in it 24 hours a day 7 days a week. 

DO I clean? 

Of course. In fact CONSTANTLY!!! It is never ending. I am loading dirty dishes in and they are talking them out as I’m doing it. There is no hope in this department so I just have to laugh and I warn every guests that ever comes here about the MESS that children bring. 

I laugh when I find a dirty diaper rolled up in my jacket pocket and 4 smashed crackers. I felt like with the first baby I really had it together. I was organized; on top of it and now it’s just survival!!!! So there are many comical moments.

Thank you so much for having me today!!!! It is such an honor to share my family with you!!! Honestly these children have made me the person I have always wanted to be; strived to be. 

They are my everything; hands down the most important thing I have ever done and will ever do!!!! 

Please feel free to come visit me anytime. I love new friends!!

Are you a Mama with  a story to tell?  
Send in your submission to joanna.haughton{at}hotmail{dot}com. 
 

Mamahood Exposed: One And Done

Hey guys, Mamahood Expose continues with Katie from Hems For Her writing about her choice to have one child.  When I read this piece I was very moved, and I couldn’t wait to share it with you.  Katie’s vulnerability and honesty is beautiful, and I appreciate her sharing this so much!
I slept through the most important text
and phone call of my best friend’s life. When I awoke from the midday nap, I
had a missed call, a voicemail, and a text message. The message was attached to
a cell phone snapshot of a positive pregnancy test, and before I could be happy
for her, I was relieved that it wasn’t me.
My entire life I planned to have two
kids, separated by just a couple of years, just like me and my sister. It was going
to be the perfect little nuclear family. When I started dating my high school
boyfriend (and now husband of eight years), he, very early in the relationship,
told me he had his first-born son’s name already selected. Sean Logan. It rolled nicely off the tongue. “Why Sean Logan?” I
asked already imagining what our child would look like. He was incredulous,
“Ummm, Sean after the best James Bond, Sean Connery, and Logan because that’s
Wolverine’s real name.” Ah, the mind of a 17-year-old male virgin.
Fast-forward ten years, and we begin to
plan in earnest for our family. I started tracking my cycle and taking my folic
acid, and then, on the very first try, it happened- I got pregnant! It wasn’t a
great pregnancy. I didn’t glow; I broke out (everywhere). I was nauseated all
the time. I had terribly heartburn and worse hemorrhoids. I once bought myself
a whole ice cream cake as a reward for finally being able to insert a hemorrhoidal
suppository where the sun don’t shine. I was riddled with anxiety- the kind that
affects both your sleep and your bowels. But I was happy. I was having a baby!
One down, one to go.

When we found out we were having a boy
(still Sean Logan after ten years), we excitedly decorated a nursery and begin
stocking up on dinosaur and sports-themed onesies. My labor, while drawn out
over 12 hours, was a positive experience and I was thrilled when I finally
pushed Sean out into the world we had prepared for him. But then something
strange happened. They had to make me hold him. Here he was perfect and
beautiful and all mine, and I didn’t even want to hold him. I know much has
been written about mother-infant bonding, but this was more than that. This was
terrifying. I had to take two tests to get my driver’s license as a teen, but
they were just going to let me take this tiny creature home. I didn’t even know
how to change a diaper and now I’m in charge of his well-being. Bad idea.

Nights were the worst. I was severely
sleep-deprived, nursing around the clock, and documenting every poop, pee and breastfeed
fastidiously in a notebook I carried around at all times. I was insane. I knew
all about post-partum depression. I was already on Zoloft. But I was not
functioning. If the poop wasn’t the creamy mustard-colored as indicated in What to Expect, I started looking up
what terrible diseases must by lurking within my beautiful infant. I even
packed up a dirty diaper in a Ziploc bag and rushed him to the pediatrician
once. She pulled my mother and husband aside and sweetly suggested they hide my
books.
One night I convinced myself I had a
blood clot in my right leg and death was imminent. I cried the entire trip to
the emergency room convinced I would never return home to my son, but relieved
because he’d probably be better off without me. After hours in the ER, a full
physical and an ultrasound of my leg, my doctor diagnosed me with a leg cramp
and prescribed “sleep.” When I would try to sleep, I had aural hallucinations.
I would hear my baby crying in my dreams. I would bolt out of bed, heart
pounding, to check his breathing. Days when I was alone with him, he stayed in
a diaper and nothing more. I was too scared to pull a onesie over his big melon
head and floppy neck. 
He cried. And cried. And cried. For the
first three months it seemed like he never stopped crying. What was I doing
wrong? Back to the books (I found them hidden behind the television). He was
going to die I just knew it. One day I could do nothing to soothe him. I was
alone and it wasn’t even lunch time. I cried. Finally, desperate and feeling
like I might be losing my mind, I called my husband and told him, “I am putting
in my ear plugs and getting in the shower. Sean will be in his crib. I am
staying in the shower until you come home. I can’t take it anymore.” He rushed
home.
I never wanted to hurt my child. I loved
him more than life itself. I only wanted him to be safe and healthy. I wanted
to stop feeling crazy. I wanted to run away and never come back because I knew
he would be better off without me. I increased my Zoloft. Time passed. He slept
longer at night. I slept longer. I went back to work. He went to daycare. I
begin to be able to enjoy being a mom and having a son. I still wanted to rush
him to the pediatrician anytime he presented with a fever or the sniffles, but
my husband was able to calm me down.

People began asking, “When are you going
to have the next one?”; “Don’t you want to give Sean a baby sister?”; “It’s
about time for another one, don’t you think?” I tried to brush the question off
with vague answers and knowing smiles, but deep down I already knew I was ever
going to have another child.  I had no
desire to have another child. One and I was done. I never ever ever wanted to
go through the hell that was a newborn baby again.
They said, “Oh, you’ll forget the pain.
You’ll forget the sleepless nights. Just wait till you hold someone else’s
baby, then those ovaries will start aching.” I don’t want to hold other
people’s babies. And I can promise you I will never forget the sleepless nights
and the insanity that consumed my life.
Within a year of Sean’s birth I wanted
my husband to have a vasectomy, but he gently refused- not so much out of penis
fear, but because he hoped I would change my mind. I waited and smiled
obligingly at infants that didn’t belong to me. I congratulated people with
they announced the “good news”. I tried to avoid telling them about my personal
experience since it was a little too real. Expectant mothers don’t want to hear
about how I pretty much lost my mind and have spent years begging my husband to
sever his vas deferens. They want to hear about how wonderful having a baby,
not about night terrors and crying in the shower. They want rainbows and
butterflies and I can’t give them that. So I choose to stay quiet and nod when
appropriate and smile when necessary.
Over the summer, I chose to have a
Mirena IUD inserted. This means I don’t have to worry about getting pregnant
until 2016. I will be 35 years old. Sean will be 9 years old. As I lay on the
table, my legs in stirrups, I thought to myself, “This is it. I will never have
another baby. I will never feel that flutter of life within my womb. I will
never labor for hours. Sean will never have a little brother of sister.” And I
felt just fine about it. I can always change my mind. The IUD could be taken
out in five minutes. I could start tracking my ovulation again. But I don’t
want to. Why is there something wrong with that?

I have been told I am selfish for not
wanting to have another child. I have been told it’s unfair to deny Sean a
sibling. I have been told only children are awful children. I have been told
the second one is easier than the first. I am still pestered all the time,
“Isn’t it about time you had another baby, Katie?”
Before I was scared to tell them the
truth. That having a child made me crazy (or crazier than I was before). That
the idea of a newborn in the house fills me with such dread I physically feel
sick. That I couldn’t emotionally handle another child. I didn’t want to tell
them these things because they judge and cluck their tongues at me like
something is wrong with me. For a long time, this made me feel like a terrible
mom or less of a woman.
Now I just tell them, “Nope! One and
DONE!”

Are you a Mama with  a story to tell?  
Send in your submission to joanna.haughton{at}hotmail{dot}com. 

Mamahood Exposed: Not Baby People

Honesty about Mamahood begins today with Tricia of Mama Marchand Musings.  She’s awesome, so enjoy! Check out my post on the subject here on Mama Marchand’s Musings!


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You may have read the books {like me}, taken the childbirth classes {like me}, and thought you knew everything there was to know about nursing, sleep, schedules, and bodily functions. However, from that first moment when the doctor hands you your firstborn, your preconceptions of motherhood are blown to bits.
Honesty is hard to come by once you become a mama … at least, that’s what I’ve discovered. Why are we so set on keeping appearances? Who does it benefit? NOT the mama who is trying to hold back her tears while keeping a happy face and saying “I love every second of being a mom.” NOT the mama she’s actually talking to who is probably trying to hold back her tears (and probably a snarky comment) while thinking “she’s either lying or on medication.” NOT the mama eavesdropping on the conversation trying to hold back HER tears while thinking “am I THE ONLY MOM ALIVE who thinks this is hard?”

Being a mama is hard.
Someone told me early on that the first is the hardest because that firstborn makes you a mama. That firstborn interrupts your fancy-free married life and gives you less sleep, less money, and less time to yourself. That firstborn causes you to plan like you’ve never planned before {or live in utter chaos, if not}. That firstborn causes you more stress, more anxiety, and {sometimes} more tears than any other person in your life. 
It’s totally true. Adding the second just grows your family. The first takes your life and shakes it like a snow globe. My life was shaken when we had our daughter but I would NEVER go back and change our decision to start a family. She brings me so much joy and I never realized I had the capacity to love someone like I love my girl. 

Truthfully, we’re not BABY people but we are, most definitely, TODDLER people. Once our daughter hit the toddler stage, we were good to go. I LOVE that she can communicate with me now and my heart oozes into a puddle on the floor when she hugs me and tell me she loves me.

If you’re ready for some more honesty from this mama, stop by my blog, Mama Marchand’s Musings. It’s filled with musings about mamahood, marriage, faith, life, health, and fashion. Thanks for reading!

Are you a Mama with  a story to tell?  
Send in your submission to joanna.haughton{at}hotmail{dot}com. 
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