When raising kids, you often hear the punchline “It takes a village;” referring to the idea of having a community of people around you to help raise your kids.
To me, this idiom always makes me feel empty.
I don’t have a village. I don’t know what that overwhelming comfort of support and reliance feels like.
I don’t have people blowing up my phone asking to take the kids off of my hands. I don’t have a backup babysitter, let alone girlfriends to go out and let loose with.
I don’t have close family to hang out with on Sundays; and I am not best friends with my mom, as a lot of people my age are.
It always makes me wonder where I went wrong, or what I did to deserve to feel this lonesome. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s an unwritten part of motherhood. Either way, it has a way of trapping you and making you feel like you just can’t ever win.
I don’t have a village, but I’m still standing. I’m still doing what I can to get along.
I don’t have a village, but I’m still killin’ this sh*t. I’m here for my children. They are loved. They are provided for.
It’s broke girl season. Since I’m on maternity leave, my paycheck is only 60% of my normal wage- of course they’re still taking the full amount of taxes & deductions out 😅 Plus, Christmas is right around the corner so I’m trying to budget the best I can. Not to mention, I hit a deer on my birthday and I still have to pay the $500 deductible before I can get my car fixed.
With the holidays coming up, I’m also trying to figure out which Christmas presents I can make homemade.
Leon turned three weeks old yesterday, and I didn’t have the money to hire a professional photographer to take his photos… so I did them myself! I bought the hat and suspenders set on Amazon for like $15 and I already had the wicker basket. Add in a house built in the 1890s with beautiful natural woodwork, and you’ve got a perfect backdrop.
I met you in the fall of 2016. You know the story, so I’ll spare the details.
But I most remember the way I scoffed to myself that you were not the kind of guy I needed to get involved with. I mean, I was just out of a long-term relationship, in the middle of my military training and living nearly 900 miles across the country from home. Not to mention, you had hair to the middle of your back, played in a band, and shared debatable political posts on Facebook that made me think to myself, ‘This guy is different. He’s not typical and his mind seems intriguing.’
But some part of me must have thought I was better than the hot drummer from a county over because I always swore to myself I wasn’t interested. I gave you the silent treatment many times and showed my sass early on.
Thank goodness you didn’t give up.
You were relentless and determined to get a response.
I finished my military training and came home- where you lived just a town over. At this point, we’d never met face to face, so you were really the first person I saw when I got back to Illinois.
And we’ve been side by side ever since. It’s like the world put us together; our gravities collided. I don’t know if I believe in fate, but I do believe in giving in to natural attraction, even if it’s scary and unexpected. Taking those journeys is what life is all about, even if you make a mistake or fall along the way. I think life will pleasantly surprise you in many ways; just by taking that leap of faith.
The spark between us is still very much alive today. You still make me laugh more than anyone and watching you become a father has been one of the greatest treasures of my life. I’m always cheering you on – whether it be your career or something as simple as watching you show our daughter the most sincere and affectionate love she could ever be given. I trust you and I love you forever. There is no one else on this planet that I’d rather share the adventure of parenthood with than you.
Thank you for showing me compassion throughout my journey into motherhood. I have no doubt the second time around will be just as amazing as the last.
Five more days til we complete the family we started five years ago. 🤍
We go to the hospital for the planned C-section on the 27th unless labor progresses on its own before then.
We are under two weeks away.
I say ‘we’ although it feels more like ‘I.’
Ya know… I carried this baby. I tore my body up. I suffered and puked and cried and endured the pregnancy on my own. Somehow it still feels selfish to take all the credit. I’m conflicted, however, because a cesarean is no joke and I’m the one going under the knife. To be honest, I’m scared to death to do it again, but I understand it’s something I’ve got to do. I’ve expressed my worry to my fiancé and he is very supportive and doing his best to understand, but in the back of my mind I still know that after all, it’s me that is ultimately going through this. Not him. He is in a way – but not really.
So yeah, I’m anxious and worried and scared.
So send good vibes and wish us luck on a healthy remaining two weeks!!! Because I’m doing my best to try to keep my mind at bay, but it’s been a struggle and every day that we get closer is another day closer to me freaking out!
We’re at 35 weeks, everyone! I’ve officially made it inside the 30 day mark. This is almost cause for celebration (almost)!
Today I had an ultrasound and he was measuring one week ahead and nearly SIX pounds. It’s always reassuring to see your babe appear healthy and growing while in your womb. Not everyone gets to experience that, so it’s something I try to enjoy although pregnancy can be a struggle.
Four more weeks. I can do this. I’m beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
(Even though I don’t have the nursery completed or a hospital bag packed)
66 days until I anticipate we will be bringing another human into this world.
Just 66 short days.
And I haven’t even started the nursery or bought much of anything.
I feel so alone in this pregnancy. Like I have to pretend to be something I’m not. Of course this is an “exciting time” and no doubt I’ll love the lil guy… But I have been so damn miserable it’s hard to even force a smile. I’m supposed to sit up straight and put on my big girl pants and fake smile and act like I’m a proud, glowing woman flourishing in pregnancy.
But I’m not.
I am in the third and final trimester of this pregnancy and I am still throwing up almost every single morning. Last week I was puking so hard that I popped a blood vessel in my eye. I could feel the veins in my face bulge as I hugged the toilet.
I fell in the rain a few months ago and definitely did something to my hip/back. I’m sure I just need to go to the chiropractor, but I’ve always been nervous about chiropractors (especially while eight months pregnant). Doc prescribed some muscle relaxers that don’t do much but make me sleepy, so sometimes I’m limping through the house barely able to move. Putting on clothes is a pain that I don’t even want to talk about. The amount of pain that I’m constantly in is taking every bit of happiness I have anymore. It just sucks it all out.
I’m looking at my ankles now and I can’t even tell where the ankle ends and foot beings. Swelling is taking over all of me.
It’s hard for me to pretend that I’m so pleased to be doing this amazing thing (don’t get me wrong, pregnancy is beautiful and life is an fascinating cycle), but I am so sick and so tired and in so much pain that I don’t have any fight left in me. I don’t have the energy to put on a fake smile. If you ask me how I’m doing, don’t get disappointed when I don’t glow and tell you all of these amaaaazing things – because it’s just not going to happen. I’m going to look at you point blank and tell you that I am not doing well and I feel like sh*t.
I am alone in feeling this way. I am trapped in this body of pain and un-comfortability. I am alone in my head trying to talk myself into pulling my leg into my pants saying, ‘it doesn’t hurt that bad.‘ But it does.
Everyone out there sees a pregnant woman and assumes the best and absolute happiness. But on the inside, I feel like a failure because I can’t resonate with that mom. I’m not the mom that loves pregnancy. It feels sad admitting that to people. I feel like the odd (wo)man out.
I love my children, but pregnancy is for the birds.
Yesterday I hit the 23 week mark. I know we are on the downhill slope already, but I’m already starting to feel so miserable. Well, I’ve had it rough this pregnancy as it is, but the swelling is in high gear already. I’ve got cankles every night and a simple walk across the house makes me tired.
Did I mention we are supposed to close on our new home next week?
It all sounds so daunting. I’ve got so much to do, but I’m trying to keep a healthy balance between being productive and making sure that I don’t push myself too much. It’s a hard thing to balance when you’re up and down so much cleaning and cooking and packing and playing with a toddler… Every night I’m so damn tired I pass out within ten minutes of hitting the pillow – which is weird for me, because usually I lay there and stew on life before bed. I’m usually laying there for quite a bit before I finally pass out, but not here lately. It’s actually pretty nice. And unexpected, considering the whole pregnancy thing. Thank goodness I bought a new mattress, mattress pad, silk sheets, and a fluffy duvet, huh? It’s like we are sleeping on a cloud every night… and to think I was considering on waiting until we moved! I’m so glad I pulled the trigger on new bedding. It was much needed and the money spent is definitely paying off. If you’re looking into getting new bedding at a low price, check out this post!
So I’ve technically got 111 days until we go to the hospital for the c-section. It doesn’t seem like a lot of time considering we are moving to a new home in that time period. I’ve got a lot of nesting left to do, and not a ton of time to do it! Hopefully the swelling and faint feelings stay away for a bit so we can get moved as easily as possible.
Baby is moving quite a bit and I’m getting anxious to get this pregnancy OVER WITH so that I never have to be pregnant again! LOL – I’m NOT kidding, though!