When I peed on that stick–all I didn’t know, 2.0

mommyeverafter — Mon, 23 Jun 2014 22:36:44 +0000

When my daughter was just shy of 18 months old I wrote about all of the things that I didn’t know when I had first decided to become a mother.
How that list has grown.
Since that time I have learned about RSV and nebulizers,
I have learned about cheerios vs. puffs,
Disney Junior as opposed to Nick Junior…
the list is endless.
But I think that the greatest difference between then and now is that now I feel like a mom.
I feel like I can give advice and that it is worth taking.
I feel like a mom when I recommend specialist doctors to my friends;
I feel like a mom when I brush my daughter’s teeth and make sure to get every one clean;
I feel like a mom when my daughter is told she is different because of her glasses (way more on that story to come) and I assuage her pain;
I feel like a mom when I pick up my daughter from her first day of real camp,
or when I kiss other kids’ boo boos,
or when I act in a crisis.
I feel like a mom when I put the pacifier of the mouths of my best friends’ babies;
I feel like a mom when those friends call me and say “I just need to freak out to you for a second.” and they trust me with their secrets and fears and they actually care about my advice.
I feel like a mom when I know the correct dosage of Tylenol off the top of my head,
when I make up bedtime stories and when I sing “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” to my daughter as she starts her journey towards slumber.
When I peed on that first stick, I had no idea how far I would come in 4 and a half years. How we would celebrate triumphs and mourn losses and pound our fists at injustices.
I had no idea that I would look at outgrown baby clothing and cry wistfully,
or that I’d write a card to our dear friends baby and sign it “Aunt Becca” and “cry happy”.
I am now ensconced in the world of carpool lines and after school activities and making bottles with one hand…
Two lines.
Just two lines, the first two steps on the journey I would take to today.
Today when I put sunscreen on my daughter;
Today when I let my son crawl around the floor of a dressing room as I helped my friend to shop;
Today when I said yes to “just one more song”.
There is so much I didn’t know. There is so much that I don’t know.
But I know that being a mom has evolved and that I have grown with it.
Through it all, when feeling threadbare or frustrated or so tired that I can scarcely keep my eyes open,
I know that I have lived another day
during which time I have shown two babies incredible love. That I’ve doled out thousands of kisses. That I’ve cheered on my team.
That I’ve done my best.
When I look back on that post from so long ago, I see a young woman still trying to fit into her mom uniform; I see that though I was walking in the mom heels, I didn’t have the stride just right.
And believe you me, I still don’t have things down perfectly,
but now I feel like a real mother. I am not playing dress-up in mom clothing.
And because of it all,
because of every word I just wrote,
and because it is 6:30 and I have two children tucked securely into their beds (or crib, or what have you)
I feel like this is why I’m here. This is why I fought. I fought for this.
Best victory ever.

The post When I peed on that stick–all I didn’t know, 2.0 appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

Threadbare

mommyeverafter — Fri, 09 May 2014 23:35:21 +0000

Tonight, as I toweled myself off after my shower,
this old post popped into my head.
As I looked in the mirror I saw tired eyes,
hair that has not been washed since Monday morning (which is a new record, even for me. And no, Twin, it doesn’t even look dirty)
and I thought to myself, threadbare.
The real definition of the word is “becoming thin and tattered with age.”
I think that this past week did a number on me,
as I was already fragile from these past few months.
This week, over and over again, I thanked my lucky stars for my carbon monoxide detector,
and that something pulled me out of bed at 5am to hear it’s far away beeps.
So many people reached out to me this week. They asked if I was OK, asked to help, and told me that my story has haunted them, or motivated them to make changes in their home.
My husband and I are so glad to raise awareness on something so important, but, as he said, we’re ready to stop being the poster children for these hard things.
So I looked myself in the mirror,
and I smoothed on my eye creams and oils and moisturizers (I may never wash my hair but I am crazy for my skincare regimen)
and put on a t-shirt from one of my sister’s old Phish shows and a pair of her silk shorts,
and I realized that, as I wrote in that post so long ago,
I may be threadbare
and a bit of an eyesore
but I am still standing.
Through terrifying surgeries, heartbreaking complications,
losing too much blood and the devastating loss of good friends in my time of need,
through floods and hospital stays and times that were sad and scary and surreal
I am here. I am strong. I may look thin, I may look weak, I may have dirty hair, but I have survived.
I didn’t know that I would.
I am so grateful that I have.
And, just like my daughter’s hospital hat years ago,
I am now the best.
I am the best me I have ever been.
Here’s to the future,
and here’s to the past.

The post Threadbare appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

Mommy Ever After » can’t have more children

When I peed on that stick–all I didn’t know, 2.0

Threadbare