My Baby Bear is 6 months old! I can’t believe it. So much has happened and yet time just feels like it flew right by. Feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital, and now he is a sweet, charismatic, energetic, vocal little boy.
The past 6 months have been the best and hardest of my life. When people say “you won’t remember what life was like before you had kids.” Believe them. It’s true. I don’t remember. Part of that is sleep deprivation and part of that is just realizing how truly blessed I am to have a baby.
Anyway, enough of me being all sentimental. Here is an update on Matthew!
Weighed: 7lbs 11oz
6 months old
Wears 9 month clothes
Size 3 Diapers
Doesn’t sleep through the night yet. We’re lucky if he gets a 4 hour stretch.
Still nursing, as well as eating solids including apples, peaches, bananas, pears, prunes, carrots, chicken, cereal and peas.
Favorite toys include anything that lights up or plays music, penguin paci, piano, kiddy pool, snuggle bug and links.
A few of his favorite things include: Bath time, swimming in his pool, trying new foods, blowing raspberries, having giggle fits, listening to music, exploring his blocks, cuddling with mommy and playing with daddy.
– He can officially sit unassisted,
– Roll belly to back and back to belly
– Put his toes in his mouth.
– Reaching for toys.
– Starting to throw
– Trying to stand and walk,
– Sip water
– Say mama 💕
Happy Half Birthday Baby Boy! You’re officially half way to 1! Can’t wait to see you grow these next 6 months and beyond!
Since my son was born, I have found myself going through a lot of old photos. My intention of this was really just to see how much my son ended up looking like me. But as I’ve perused different photos, I found myself going down memory lane, and really thinking back to the last 7 years and the experiences that have helped mold me as the person I am today.
In September of 2014, I met an 18 year old boy in Spanish class. He was kind, polite and a little nosey. I didn’t know it then that he would one day be my husband. ❤️
I didn’t intend to meet my future husband in Spanish class. I actually signed up for the class so I could prepare for a mission trip to the Dominican Republic in February of 2015. This trip changed my life. I learned how to be grateful for the things I have, like an indoor shower, a floor and air conditioning. I also grew more in love with helping others and teaching children. 🖍
In the fall of 2016, I became a lead preschool teacher for 3 year olds. I graduated from community college in the Spring of 2016 and instead of heading straight to a university, I decided to take a gap year and gain some experience in my field. It was wonderfully challenging to say the least. Everyday was an adventure. From potty training, to positive child guidance, to sickness, to coloring on the wall, to giggle fits, to Disney dance parties; it was enjoyable and one of the best years of my life.
While planning my classroom that fall I also planned my wedding. Talk about a lot on your plate all at once. Charles proposed in August and we got married in mid November. A beautiful fall wedding that wonderfully captured our love for God and love for each other. 💒
In Spring of 2018, I decided to go back to school to further my education. I had already received an Associates in Early Childhood Education and an Associates in General Studies at community college. My next step was to a university for a Bachelors in Child and Family Development.
While studying for my Bachelors, I hit a little bump in the road and got pregnant. Though it wasn’t planned, we were excited and ready to venture into parenting. Sadly our first pregnancy came to an end at 11 weeks.
After my first miscarriage, I started writing my blog, and sharing my story to cope with my grief and help others. I had the opportunity to get published in a magazine, and start a blogging platform on WordPress and Instagram.
After my second miscarriage, I got involved in advocacy work on my college campus. Even though I didn’t agree with everything that was taught, I did learn the fundamentals of what it means to be an advocate, overcoming trauma and standing up for what you believe in
After many twists and turns, I finally graduated with my Bachelors in Child and Family Development. I may have graduated in a pandemic, which certainly wasn’t planned, but I was able to finish my education and start my new career.
Shortly after graduating and getting back into my field of teaching and child care, I decided to work on a new project. I wrote and illustrated a children’s book about miscarriage and grief.
In August of 2020, my mothering heart was longing for a baby. And though we had decided to hold off trying for a baby, we decided to try adopting and caring for a kitten. We went to a local cat cafe where we met Breadstick. This little 4 month old kitten worked his way into our laps and our hearts. We adopted him on a Friday afternoon, renamed him Rocky, and the rest is history.
On Mother’s Day of 2020, my husband and I decided to try again one more time. We prayed and hoped and waited for a baby. Our trying to conceive journey lasted a year and was full of ups and downs, negative test after test until finally we got out positive.
Pregnancy after suffering two losses was not easy. I worried constantly about the unknown, the past and things I couldn’t control. Thankfully with faith, prayer and encouragement I learned to be thankful for pregnancy and appreciate each moment as it came.
During my pregnancy, I mentally and emotionally prepared for my upcoming roll of motherhood. I leaned on other mom friends as well as my mom as I prepared for the journey ahead.
Giving birth was one of the most life changing experiences of my life. No things did not go as planned as I did not plan on being induced or being in labor for 3 days. But with the support of Jesus, family, friends and my medical team… I realized what my body was capable of and I had the strength to give birth to my beautiful miracle baby.
On January 2nd I became a mom, a mom earth-side that is. I’m not just a mom, but I’m a mom to two angel babies as well as one pretty incredible rainbow baby.
These last 7 years have been amazing, stressful, exhausting, entertaining, relaxing, memorable, wonderful, hilarious, beautiful and challenging. I love my life. It is exactly like and nothing like I had pictured. As a 19 year old girl, taking classes at a community college, to a new mom, with an education in children… I have to say, so far my life has turned out pretty great.
In the last 2 months or so my life has been turned upside down, spun around and tossed out a window… okay, I may be a little mellow dramatic. But life has changed a lot and I am nowhere near where I thought I would be.
In late February, or early March (I can’t remember) I made the decision to be a stay at home mom. This was my dream, or at least part of it. I have always wanted to be a stay at home mom and have some sort of hobby/small business out of my home. It was a hard decision to make, but one I didn’t make lightly. After I had Matthew, I knew there was no way I could leave him to go back to work unless I absolutely had to.
In April my husband quit his current job and got a new job with better benefits, and higher pay. Everything felt like it was falling into place. I was a stay at home mom living out my dream, and he was working a better job living out his. Until the economy continued to tank, the war in Ukraine began, and the outside influences started to affect our daily way of life.
My husband started commuting for his new job. It was a hour and a half away. The drive wasn’t terrible. But the gas prices started to put a toll on our finances. As prices continued to go up on food, gas and everything else, we realized that my husband was spending more money to get to work, than he was actually bringing home. At the same time we also needed new tires and a new windshield for our car. I offered to go back to work. My husband was completely against it. He wanted me to live my dream as a stay at home mom, and he knew it was ultimately better for our son if I could stay home for him… and don’t even get me started about the cost of daycare if I went back to work.
After thoroughly looking through our finances and discussing things with family, we decided to break our lease and move in with family for the time being. It wasn’t an easy decision, but we really didn’t have any other option. So in 1 week we packed up our one bedroom apartment, paid to break our lease and moved in with family.
We have been moved in for about two weeks now. Life is crazy and out of our routine, but we are safe and saving money as the world around us continues to be unpredictable. I’m hopeful life will calm down as we unpack and settle in and this will be a blessing in disguise.
As I write this, I can proudly say I have been nursing for 3 1/2 months. That’s 15 weeks, 109 days, approximately 872 nursing sessions, 218 pumping sessions and roughly 600 oz of frozen breast milk. Nursing in a nutshell has been… HARD WORK!
When my son was first born, we immediately did skin-to-skin contact and tried our first session of nursing. It was a challenge at first as we struggled with positioning and latching, but my amazing labor and delivery nurses helped me.
When we were transferred up to the Mother and Baby floor, my son’s blood sugar was checked and was reading fairly low. It was thought that since I had nothing to eat that day after my water broke at 3am and he was born around 2:30pm, that that was likely why his sugar was so low. It was also considered that my gestational diabetes was playing a factor here. I tried latching immediately when we got settled into our room but it wasn’t working. Since his sugar was low and he was exhausted from the birth, he was getting lethargic rather quickly. I became very frustrated and discouraged.
After a few minutes my nurse recommended that we try an alternative so we could get some nutrients into his body quickly. She suggested that I request some formula or some donor breast milk. I was on the fence for doing either of these alternatives as I was worried about nipple confusion. I took a moment to discuss with my husband, and we decided to go with the donor breast milk option. I decided that it was better for my baby to be healthy over latching on to me. I had my preference of course but when it came down to it, I didn’t mind how my baby was fed, just as long as he was happy and healthy.
Thankfully my son took the bottle of donor milk just fine. I felt some relief briefly only to worry about how his next feeding would go, and his next one and so on. My nurse encouraged me to try and feed him every hour to hour and a half in order to help keep his blood sugar up. They stressed that if he doesn’t wake up to eat then I needed to wake him.
Every hour from about 5pm to 2am I tried feeding my baby. Every hour we would struggle to latch for 10 minutes or so. My baby would seem disinterested and I would start crying. feeling like a failure as his mom. At one point around midnight I called my nurse in to see if she could guide me in positioning my baby so I could try and get him to latch. I had just seen her about a half hour before hand and before leaving she said “Let me know if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to hit your call button.”
When my nurse came back in, I asked if she could help me position my baby again to see if I could get him to latch. She seemed rather irritated and came over to the bed to help. Charles was doing his best to get some sleep so that I could hopefully get sleep later. After my nurse helped us latch she left the room saying “You know this is when Dad needs to assist you because we can’t keep coming in here to help you.” As she left I felt so hurt and embarrassed. I never intended to bug her, she literally just got done telling me to call if I needed help. After that I felt like I was on my own when it came to figuring out breastfeeding.
Throughout my time in the hospital, I decided to start pumping. I had read that pumping would help me increase my supply so that I could produce more milk for my baby. As my baby’s blood sugar numbers improved, his feeding schedule was moved to every 2 hours. So every hour I was either pumping or nursing. I tried latching every chance we got but during our entire time in the hospital he only successfully latched 3 times.
On the second day of our hospital stay, my son was scheduled for his circumcision. As the doctor came to take him to his procedure she did a quick exam and paused. She looked at me and said “Is he having any issues latching?” I told her that we had been struggling. She said she noticed as my baby started sucking on her finger that he had a tongue tie and that could very well be why he was struggling so much to latch. She explained that the procedure to correct it could be fixed at the same time as his circumcision. I felt some relief as she explained all of this but also fear as he had to go through another procedure, even if it was only minor. I called my husband and talked it over with him (since he was running errands) and we agreed to have it corrected.
On January 4th, we were discharged from the hospital. I was totally and completely terrified of leaving. Were we ready for this? Could we really take care of a baby that was less than 72 hours old? I was still struggling with this whole nursing thing. What if I couldn’t feed my baby? What if he needed formula? There weren’t nurses, lactation consults or doctors to check in on us and measure his weight everyday. I was fearing the worst and started down a hormonal postpartum spiral.
I think the only thing that stopped me from completely losing my mind was that my parents came to our apartment the day we came home. With the strict covid guidelines at the hospital, the only family members I had seen since being in labor was Charles and Alli. I felt some relief as my parents arrived and got to meet our baby. He was sleepy but he was happy. They instantly fell in love with him and I felt like I was doing something right.
I wrote this post two years ago, and even though some time has passed since I wrote it, I still feel it is even more relevant today. I will be thinking of all Mommies this Mother’s Day, no matter what motherhood may look like to you. ❤️
It’s Mother’s Day. This is the day we celebrate all the mothers. We celebrate the women In our lives who have raised us, nurtured us and taught us how to be good people in our society. We celebrate the women who showed us unconditional love from the very beginning. This day is meant to be a celebration, but to many… it is a somber holiday.
Being a mother is a very special role. It is one of, if not the hardest jobs there is. That being said not all mothers are the same. When you think of a mother you likely will think of biological moms, step moms, foster moms, moms who have adopted and grandmothers. But what about the other moms in this world? What about the women who hold a mothering role in a child’s life, such as an aunt, cousin, friend, teacher, or mentor. What about the moms who have lost a child, whether it was a pregnancy loss, neonatal loss or loss of a child at an older age?
ALL OF THESE WOMEN ARE JUST AS MUCH MOTHERS, AND HOLD A SPECIAL PLACE IN OUR SOCIETY AND IN A CHILD’S LIFE.
And let’s not forget all the women who want to be mothers. These women may struggle with infertility, illness, are choosing not to have children at this time in their life or suffer from recurrent miscarriages. These women are as much mothers to our society and to children in our world, just in a different way.
This mother’s day is also different as the Covid-19 pandemic has prevented some children from seeing and celebrating their mother’s today. It almost seems as if there is a grief in the air just from the pandemic. I feel that in it self has made this holiday especially somber this year.
Even though this is a holiday to celebrate all the mothers, it is sometimes a somber holiday for those who have lost a child, who are unable to have children, or who have lost their mothers. If you are reading this, and you have lost your mother, lost a child or are unable to have children, I just want to say… I am so sorry for your loss. I’m sorry this holiday brings up emotions of grief, guilt, anger, sadness, anxiety and dread. I’m sorry for the atmosphere of loneliness you feel on this holiday. I want to remind you though that you are not alone. Yes, your experience is yours, but their are so many of us who too have experienced that loss.
THERE ARE SO MANY OF US WHO HAVE FELT THE PAIN THAT CAN BE EXPERIENCED IN THIS LIFE, EVEN THOUGH WE DON’T TALK ABOUT IT.
So today, not only are we celebrating all the traditional mother’s out there, but we are remembering the mothers who have faced loss and heartache as well. I can tell you first hand, this day is not easy, but when the grief and loneliness become too much, remember to take care of you. Don’t have high expectations on yourself. Give yourself grace and love. Order food in, eat some chocolate, take a bubble bath, binge watch a comedy series, or stay in your PJs. Happy or not this day is about you and the love you’ve shared.
Today I will be taking it easy and remembering my babies I’ve lost because even though it hurts, they made me a mom. When the grief gets to be too much today, I will remember that I am not any less a mom because my babies are in Heaven.
I will end with this. It’s Mother’s Day, happy or not this is the day we celebrate and remember all mothers and to all the women who share that role. Thank you for all that you do and love that you’ve shared. I will be thinking of you today.
On Friday April 30th at 4 something in the morning, I woke up and had to pee. With my eyes heavy, and body exhausted from the work week, I contemplated on whether or not I should take my very last pregnancy test. I was only a day or two late for my period, which wasn’t unusual for me. And to be honest I was feeling pretty defeated. I was tired of wasting my money on pregnancy tests, and getting my hopes up month after month only to receive negative after negative.
I had one final digital pregnancy test under my bathroom counter. It would expire by the next month anyway. I thought why not? It was my morning pee, and they say that’s the most accurate anyway. I peed in a cup, took the test and waited. I prepared myself for disappointment yet again. While I waited something told me to take pictures and document the moment. I figured whether the test was positive or negative, it was apart of my story that I could one day share to help others, so I did.
I watched as the test counted down, and a word flashed on the screen. I instantly thought, it’s broken it sayspregnant, where’s the not? I had grown so accustomed to reading the words Not Pregnant that it took a moment for me to realize this was a positive test. I was pregnant with our rainbow baby… and the rest is history.
I spent the next few weeks harboring this little secret until around 6 weeks when I told close friends and family. I told my job around 7 weeks and publicly announced between 11-12 weeks.
Pregnancy was one of the best and most anxious times in my life. I constantly feared we would suffer another loss, but as each week passed I started to calm down and enjoy pregnancy little by little. During pregnancy I dealt with morning sickness, sciatica, grieving for a friend who suffered a loss, gestational diabetes, Covid and a long and painful induction. Pregnancy was not easy, but overall baby and I both remained relatively healthy.
On January 2nd, 2022 God blessed us with our beautiful Rainbow Baby. Matthew is our world. I couldn’t have asked for a better baby. He’s a perfect mix of his Mommy and Daddy.
I share this all with you because in many ways my story has come full circle. Mother’s Day is approaching and I know first hand the feeling of dread, and grief that comes with this holiday to women who struggle with infertility and women of pregnancy loss. I want you to know that I’m here for you. I also want you to know that I am living proof that God answers prayers. He hears you. When the doctors say something is impossible, He is able to make things possible. He can turn ashes into beauty. He can do anything if we just have a little faith. I thank God for my beautiful rainbow baby every single day, and even though it was hard and sometimes excruciating, I thank God for the journey he took me on because it molded me into who I am today as a person, as a writer, and now as a mom.
If you are reading this and you long for a baby… I see you, I hear you, I was you and I’m praying for you. Remember the bigger the storm, the brighter the rainbow. 🌈 I pray you are blessed with a baby and a family of your own. It may not be the way you pictured or when you wanted but I pray it happens for you. God is bigger than anything else and He can make a way, if we just have a little faith. ❤️
Now that my baby is 3 months old, I have decided to try to implement more structure to our day-to-day life and set a routine for myself and my baby. Since he is still very little, I am not expecting our routine to be very strict, but rather would like to have repetitive tasks throughout the day that can help my baby feel more secure and allow myself to better plan out each day as it comes.
Our current routine is pretty basic.
After each nap baby wakes up, gets changed, has a feeding, burps and snuggles mommy or whoever is caring for him.
He has 8 feedings in a 24 period and eats every 2-4 hours.
He has anywhere from 1 to 4 naps in a day.
Baths are at night before bed 2-3 times a week.
Tummy time, swing, music and sensory play happen periodically throughout the day, but at least 3 times.
With the weather getting nice we sometimes go on a walk or spend a few minutes on our balcony.
Below is an example of what I would like our routine to look like between now and when he turns 6 months old.
I’m hoping by 6 months we will be very close to our baby sleeping through the night, but we shall see.
This is only the general framework of our routine, I’ll keep you posted on how things are going! 💕
In the past few weeks as our baby boy has gotten older, we have been sprucing up Baby Bear’s nursery!
This crib was a gift from family friends who buy storage units. It’s considered a mini crib which is perfect for apartment living. We also put up the animal pictures which were a gift from a coworker off of my registry,
A majority of our son’s books are in the living room, however I like to keep a couple in his bedroom for easy access and late night story time.
We have continued to keep his shelf with bins full of clothes and it is perfect and a very efficient system.
Matthew started rolling around 7 weeks of age. He is now 10 weeks as I write this. Between 7 and 8 weeks we transitioned Matthew from the bassinet to the crib. However, we have kept the bassinet and are using it as a diaper changing station until he fully grows out of it.
This diaper caddy has been a lifesaver. We love having everything accessible and organized for diaper changes.
I decided to also create a bath time basket where all his wash cloths, soaps, shampoos, extra diapers and brushes can be found. I also am hanging his towels on a hook nearby where it can be easily found. I am currently storing this in his room while we continue to give him baths in the kitchen sink. Once we switch to doing baths in the bathroom, I would imagine we will move everything there.
Finally, I’ve continued to store blankets, sheets, bibs, socks and shoes on this shelf.
Thanks for taking this fun little tour of our Baby Boy’s updated nursery! 💕
Mom… a simple 3 letter word that means the world to me. When I was little, I had one constant in my life. I had one person in my life that cared for and loved me every single day. I had one person that fed me, changed me, hugged me, kissed me good night, sang You Are My Sunshine, and showed me what it looks like to love someone else, and that person is my mom.
As a preteen and teenager life was pretty rough and confusing. I can recall countless times of feeling hurt and rejected by friends. I can remember many embarrassing and awkward moments, that I don’t care to share or relive. But through all the heartache, changes and confusion my mom was always there.
When I first met my husband, and I didn’t know if I should allow myself to let my guard down and actually open my heart up to someone else, my mom was there. She listened and talked me through it. She taught me what I should look for in a husband and how I deserved to be treated.
When I went through my biggest events of my life, my two miscarriages; my mom was there. My mom never left me alone. She too had suffered loss and knew full well the pain and grief I was living through. She felt my pain, she understood it, and she wore my heartbreak too.
I honestly don’t know what I would do without my mom. I know I wouldn’t be the person I am today without her. She’s amazing. She inspires me to be a good person. She has conquered so much in her young life and been dealt a pretty crappy hand at times, and yet she keeps pushing forward. She still finds joy in the little things like her playful cats, or watching America’s Funniest Home Videos on a Sunday night.
My mom taught me practically everything I know. She taught me how to love others, show compassion and empathy, how to clean, create a budget, do everyday household chores, how to read and study, she taught me how to use coupons and get a good deal, and how to turn a few simple ingredients into an amazing meal. My mom has taught me a lot. But more than anything, my mom taught me how to be a good mom. From growing up and watching her raise me, I have been able to learn how to selflessly be a good mom myself. I don’t think I’m anywhere near as good of a mom as she is, but I’m learning, I’m growing and she is still there when I need help.
Mom, I know you’re reading this and I hope you know that I don’t think I can truly ever thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. For now, I think the best thanks I can give you is watching you be an amazing grandma to my son. So thank you Mom. Thanks for raising me, teaching me and loving me. I can’t wait for my baby to grow up and get to know the amazing person that I call Mom. ❤️
At 6 weeks postpartum, I left my baby for the second time. The first time I left him to go grocery shopping for about an hour and a half. The second time I left for my 6 week postpartum appointment and my 2 hour glucose test.
On a chilly Tuesday morning, I went to the hospital and did my two hour glucose test. The drink was disgusting and I didn’t enjoy sitting in the waiting room for two hours. The entire time I texted friends, checked in on my baby as he was getting babysat by Grandma and Grandpa and thought about what I was going to have for breakfast the moment the test was completed.
Thankfully, my glucose test came back normal and I no longer had any form of diabetes. I then had an hour to kill before my OB appointment. I enjoyed a salad and sandwich at the nearby cafe and continued calling my mom to check on my baby. To my surprise he was doing great. He played, took a nap, and ate just fine. For a moment or two I was able to sigh with relief knowing he was being taken care of and I could take a moment to enjoy some time by myself.
At my 6 week postpartum appointment everything looked great. To my surprise, I had lost weight since giving birth. The scale showed that I now weighed 9lbs lighter than I did when I first got pregnant. I was put on birth control and made a plan to continue my anxiety meds. I was also told my abdominal muscles weren’t completely fused back to where they were pre-pregnancy and I needed to take it easy when it came to strenuous activity and working out.
After a long 4 hours I was finally able to see my baby. I missed him so much. It was a huge milestone for me to leave for a little while and trust others to take care of my baby, but I did it. ❤️
I never realized I could love someone so much… I thought to myself as I held my brand new baby not even 6 hours old. I looked into his deep brown eyes and thought I love you so much. I love you more than I ever thought I could. As each moment passes I grow more and more in love with you. With these intense emotions and genuine endorphin high, also came fear and anxiousness.
I felt a piece of my heart leave my body when I gave birth to my beautiful baby boy. It was beautiful but also incredibly terrifying. For 9 long months, 39 weeks and 3 days I carried my baby. I loved him, nourished him, prayed over him, worried about him and protected him. As a mama who knows loss, I knew throughout my pregnancy that at absolutely any moment this miracle baby I was carrying could very well be taken away. Throughout my pregnancy I continuously told myself things for me to make it through. I just have to get to 5 weeks… I just have to get through 6 weeks…. I just have to make it past the first ultrasound and if baby is okay, I’ll be able to breathe. I just have to get through the first trimester. And ultimately I would say I just have to get through this pregnancy. Once I get though this pregnancy I will be able to relax and all will be okay. Little did I know that my love, as well as my anxiety for my baby was only beginning.
While in the hospital the first two nights of my baby’s life I didn’t sleep. I didn’t sleep not because he was crying but because I was so scared of losing him. I was afraid he would stop breathing if I wasn’t watching him. I was afraid he would aspirate. I was afraid he would some how suffocate from his swaddle or his organs would suddenly stop working. It was a never ending cycle that I’m sure a lot of moms encounter. It was exhausting and sometimes hard to live in the moment and enjoy my sweet newborn.
As the weeks went by I continued the roller coaster of postpartum anxiety. Was Matthew eating enough? Was he pooping enough? He sounds congested, did he aspirate? He’s crying, is it a hungry cry or is he in pain? He isn’t comforted when I hold him, is he mad at me? He failed his hearing test, does he have an impairment. Throughout this cycle I had a hard time taking care of myself. I would forget to eat, forget to drink which would ultimately mess with my milk supply and make me irritable and impatient. I would refuse to sleep because I hated hearing my baby crying even though I completely trusted my husband when he would get up to care for him. I kept putting my baby first but forgetting that I can’t be the best mommy for my baby, if I didn’t try to take care of myself too.
Postpartum anxiety is a real thing. I had no idea. I had only ever heard of postpartum depression. But these moments of mind racing, panicked anxiousness was real and hard to control. I wasn’t crazy, but going through what a lot of mamas do.
Since becoming an earth side mama, I love deeper, cry harder and laugh longer. I also fear the worse and struggle with just letting go and letting God do what he’s going to do. Part of that is just being a mom and part of that is postpartum anxiety. Motherhood is a beautiful blessing and I thank God everyday for my beautiful rainbow baby. And with time, meds and rest my anxiety and emotions will eventually settle down some. I’m getting the help I need as well as taking it one day at a time.
Motherhood is a journey. Just like how trying to conceive, pregnancy and labor are all journeys in themselves; motherhood too is a journey… and accompanied by love and anxiety.