Flipping car seats too soon?

A little PSA! Check out this article here.

I love this!

L will be 2 soon and we have no intention of flipping his car seat anytime soon.

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National Infertility Awareness Week 2017

Time heals all wounds, right?

Wrong.

Wounds might be easier to deal with. The pain slightly easier to bear.

But they are never truly healed.

Some days it just hits you and today was one of those days.

Our fertility struggle started more than 5 years ago. Our loss 1202 days ago. I’ve had two beautiful, healthy, happy children since then.

But that doesn’t change the loss and pain we endured to get here.

While the sadness and grief no longer consume me, there is a piece of my heart that still mourns that lost little love, each negative pregnancy test, each time I was told no or maybe next time.

Today was a normal day, as I loaded up the kids and left for our MOPs meeting (Moms of Preschoolers).

Today’s speaker spoke about her journey through infertility and loss. Her story was tragic and heartbreaking, something no one should have to go through. I sat there and cried with her.

After our speaker finished, we were provided discussion questions to use at our table.

Today, I heard several very brave women, share their stories of fertility struggles and losses. It humbled me to watch their bravery unfold. They shared their pain. Their battle.

When it was my turn to share, I was surprised when I had to stop and try (not very successfully) to regain some composure.

I’ve been quite open about what we’ve been through. It’s been awhile since I really talked about that blazing, joyous moment of finding out we were pregnant to that heart-wrenching, life altering moment when we weren’t.

I remember thinking to myself how weird it was that I was crying, I feel like I don’t usually cry when I talk about our journey anymore.

As I’ve shared our struggled throughout the last few years, I’ve spoken with quite a few people who struggled too, with infertility, secondary infertility or miscarriages. But being in a room with so many wonderful people, many of whom had this shared experience was empowering. Even through all of the accompanying sadness, it proved, again, I was not alone.

I’m not.

And you are not alone.

 

Listen up.

Don’t suffer in silence.

Check out Resolve to learn more about National Infertility Awareness Week and more available resources.

My favorite moment from 2016

I had a lot of them.

All with L and W.

But my favorite moment by far was the moment I got to tell my husband I was pregnant.

We tried for years to have L and were under the impression we would never have children without medical intervention.

So after a couple weeks of feeling really crummy, days before my first half marathon (and Mother’s Day) I was prepared to give my doc a call to see what was up. I knew they’d ask about dates of things so I took a pregnancy test anyways – just because things were getting back on track from breastfeeding.

The shock of all shocks was that it was positive!

Never in my life did I think that would happen. I literally fell to the ground crying and my sweet little 11 month old at the time came waddling up to me for the best hug of my life.

Until my husband came home – and we got to tell him the news.​ So here is the video of my favorite moment of 2016. 

Happy New Year everyone and may 2017 bring you much joy and happiness! 

Just another manic Monday…

I know it’s not Monday, but this is how my Monday went this week.

Ever have just one of those days?

We started off great. Breakfast happened with minimal whining. Awesome. We cleaned. He didn’t break anything. Went down for a nap easily. We ran some errands.

All was well in Whoville.

And then the afternoon hit.

First I changed a diaper, didn’t wrap it up properly and dropped poop on my floor. Great. Just what I wanted to clean up.

Then the little terror destroyed everything we had cleaned up in the morning.

Next he found my wallet and hid some very important cards from me for a few hours.

And he tried to jump off the couch, causing me to dive to save him, laying on the bump – not very comfortable.

Oh, and he wanted dinner an hour earlier than I anticipated, so hot dogs for everyone instead!

Finally it was bath time which meant bedtime would be soon, because I was one tired mama.

Bath time went semi-smoothly. Mostly he threw toys out of the tub and hit me with them (while they were full of water). He squatted to grab another toy, chucked it at me. And it was a funny toy. One I hadn’t seen before. In the half second it took me to process that, wonder where the toy came from, I realized it wasn’t a toy. It was poop.

Yep I had a feces throwing monkey in the bath tub, not my sweet adorable son.

Stupid me was suddenly surprised, yelled OH SHIT (no pun intended at the moment) and scooped said monkey out of the tub to prevent any more throwing of the feces, or further contamination of this now clean little person.

Of course my yelling and scooping scared him so he sat in the corner crying while I scooped poop out of the tub.

Finally I get the poop out, take him to put on jammies and find out…he wasn’t done. Now there’s poop all over his lower half and the towel I had wrapped him in.

At this point I’d prefer to give up…but eventually get him cleaned up, dry and calm.

All without any wine to assist me, might I add.

So if you think you had a shitty day….remember this story. (yes yes I went for the cheese factor there).

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