Turns Out I Have Learned A Few Things

It has been nine months since I had my son Asher, So I thought it fitting to blog about what I have learned in those 9 months. I remember wondering how in the heck I am going to do this mother thing, I spent 9 months planning for a delivery but got no time to plan to be a parent. I had to learn it on the fly. Now that I have been raising Asher as long as it took me to "grow" him in my tummy, (all you moms know its really 10 months) I think its time to share my knowledge.

Why Don't They Write THIS in Books?

-You can get everything done in the shower in five minutes. I didn't say done well.

 

- although my husband may disagree, shaving only to my knee 4 out of 5 times still counts as shaving my legs

 

- when taking a shower while someone else watches your baby ( not just an exersaucer) it's very much like those trips to the salon/ spa I remember pre pregnancy. 

 

- once your baby figures out how "cool" the bathroom is, it instantly becomes condemned and the door can never be opened without adult supervision.

 

- flushing the toilet and using toilet paper is a normal part of my life, to the baby, it is THE BEST TOY EVER!!!

 

- doing your hair or make-up becomes a weird paparazzi situation, where baby just stares at you forever wondering what the heck are you doing. then finally goes and gets into trouble

 

-babies don't understand privacy,forget to latch the bathroom door and he will come bustin through wanting to stand next to the toilet and touch you or beg to sit on your lap. 

 

- babies do not understand why we grab them so fast and wash their hands immediately after we catch them playing in toilet water. To them, we are nuts.

 

- your babies head is actually a helmet, and it will be tested countless times on the kitchen floor, coffee table, and dining room chairs

 

- checking your babies pupils to make sure there isn't a concussion becomes normal

 

- no matter what the dr says, teeth and breastfeeding don't mix well

 

- anything plugged into the wall, electronic, expensive and breakable trumps any  fancy or favorite toy your baby once had.

 

- babies are cruel to other babies, parents think its sooo cute for them to play together but it's a baby battlefield 

 

- thinking about giving baby a nickname? Don't. My son will be 20 years old assuming his name is Boo Boo. Chances are he will have a yogi bear complex

 

- although I don't wish it in my worst enemy, during the cry it out phase/ everyday tantrums I almost grabbed my bible to see what it had to say on the subject of possession.

 

- separation anxiety brings out the whiniest baby, it reminds you of your mother saying " I hope your child is just like you" 

 

- the feeling you get when your baby finally learns something you have been teaching them for days even weeks is comparable to the joy of your most favorite memory of all time

 

-building barriers to keep baby in a certain area using chairs, gates, boxes, and other random objects can take foooreevveerr, it usually only takes baby 3 minutes to figure out a way around them

 

- the dog needs to learn he is a toy, if not, get rid of him

 

- plant foliage and dirt are tasty, and when thrown up, smell the worst out of anything 

 

- you may think your tough, but certain baby poop will break you 

 

- a sick baby trumps any plans and breaks your heart, it takes about a billion hugs and kisses to heal it

 

- you will learn to live with a lot less money, and it makes you stronger, a better cook, and an all around genius when it comes to making cool baby toys, watch out Pinterest.

 

- dont cry over the loss of pre-baby intimacy with the hubby, rejoice in other ways to show your love and sneak away whenever you can

 

 - my heart hurts for single moms/ dads

 

- the first week of my sons life was the most selfish I have ever been, baby blues and regret are normal and it goes away

 

- my husband needs to have a say in all things baby, except poop, he doesn't like poop

 

- feeding a baby solids is messy,I'm talking turnin' on a blender with grape juice in it without the cap messy, don't even think about saving to many of the 9-12 month clothes

 

-  denture wearing silly old men from the grocery store can make your baby smile, old ladies freak them out and leave them smelling perfumey and musty

 

-bundling up a baby in winter and getting them in their carseat...impossible.

 

-if you have a boy, they will treat their "anatomy" as if it were removable. 

 

- nothing is cuter then a gummy smile, until they get a one tooth smile

 

- according to a baby, socks are optional. Even in the dead of winter. They also double as a chew toy

 

- a naked baby= a super human baby, they crawl away faster, wiggle faster, and pee all over you before you even have time to blink. They are also the happiest

 

- the fourth trimester needs its own what to expect book. Can I get an AMEN!

 

- a grandparents love is furious, if something happened to you, they would be amazing stand-ins

 

- take hand me downs. It's not about being proud, save your money for making memories, they never remember the clothes they wore.

 

- its all cute when baby starts to find their voice, but they somehow know when the most dramatic part of a show is on

 

- peek a boo is an art, there is a fine line between silly and serial killer

 

- your already good lookin spouse is ten times hotter with your smiling baby in their arms

 

 - family comes first, sorry but your not included in that, baby and spouse are before you

 

- restaurant high hairs are death traps for a wiggly baby , but the straps are always so gross

 

- picking your child's boogers is normal, until you notice the guy across the room staring at you, then you remember it might actually be a little disgusting  

 

- you may rejoice when baby stops spitting up, only to be horrified to find how gross real throw up is, you'll be begging for spit up

 

- somehow, unbeknown to mankind, poop comes out of a butt and travels stealthily to back of neck

 

- daddy has to lay down the law, mommy deals with the bodily functions, both get paid in love and smiles, no complaining

 

- getting ready to go out for a 1 hour grocery shop must be carefully planned, feed, change diaper, pack up, drive= 30min ,shop= 10 of  your finest shopping minutes, 20 min to re pack up and drive home. make lists.

 

- to others in line at the store you look like you're talking to yourself, to you you're talking to a tiny baby, what's wrong with that?

 

- breast pump= farmer John said, " sure if it works for cows, why not?" , also " sorry females, I hate you" 

 

- nursing pads, boobie band aides?

 

- the box the cool new toy came in is better then the toy

 

- you call my baby boy a girl one more time and I am going to shove his blue shirt with a dinosaur on it, his  blue pants with tough guy written on the leg, and his blue pacifier with a little monster on it, right up your nose! 

 

- waiter,please stop asking if my obviously under 6 month old baby would like anything off the menu, pretty sure you know he doesn't.

 

- although I understand car seats need to be really safe, however they need not be as confusing as a rubix cube. I just wanna go to the store, not solve quadratic equations.

 

- I have a ton of  questions, most of which can only be answered through experience, soooo that's annoying.

 

- consider drugging your baby been flying, a little Tylenol never hurt anyone, and other passengers won't get all scowly. 

- I prefer going out with others who have babies that way when mine cries they give me the " we understand" look while everyone else is giving me the " shut that baby up look".. I used to give that look

 

- sometimes I stop and laugh at myself because I realize I have a diaper on my head, a pacifier in my mouth, socks on my hands, and I'm making a weird animal noises at my baby

 

- jeans are only worn out, never around the house, lounge pants work way better for crawling around

 

-at some point I had to say SIDS shimds, and let loose a little

 

-However, every time my son sleeps the entire night I still wake up frantic that he is not breathing, or stolen.

- BTW who steals kids anyways? Sickos

 

- my son peed all over my dress the day of my sisters wedding, I laughed. When did pee become funny?

 

- My sons name is Asher, my dogs name is Oliver, I frequently get them mixed up

-I talk about how much I want another one, and my husband keeps saying not now, but the day he says ok lets do it, I will probably throw up.

 

 

 

Most Importantly, the one thing I have learned in the last 9 months...

                             None of us know what it was like to be a baby, so as parents we must indulge, take pictures, live in the moment, remember the feelings, and always, keep being silly, no matter how ridiculous we may look. Oh and make sure to take off the old diaper and put on the new one fast.

A New Horizon

Living in the gray wishing for Black or white

      In life I find that the hardest moments are always somewhere between what you want, and what you want. When decisions are less then clear cut and regardless of the outcome, always marked with regret. It’s like the saying, “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” But what happens if the lemons aren’t ripe enough and leave a bitter taste in your mouth? What if what I really wanted to make was lemon meringue pie and I simply settled for lemonade because it’s what I thought I was supposed to do. Living in the proverbial land of gray is just that, gray. It’s desolate and bleak. A sort of purgatory while you wait for what may or may not be heaven. Don’t get me wrong, the light at the end of the tunnel is enough to brighten my gray world, and if it wasn’t for gray I would never have made it to the blacks or the whites in my life, which have undoubtedly formed who I am.  The gray is always the place I spend the least time but it also sees me at my most impatient. It knows my annoying quirks and probably thinks I am crazy. Without question to be in the gray is to be in the unknown...

Ecclesiastes 3:1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.

     To further clarify, White is Rochester, MN and Black is Albert Lea, MN. Before the assumption, Albert Lea being black has nothing to do with bad. I know when things get bad we tend to see them has turning dark but in this case that isn’t what I mean. I would put them both as white if I could but white and white just do not equal gray, thus making the title statement unfitting. ANYWAYS, Matt’s current job has been very gracious and is allowing him to be the first-ever work from home detailer they have had. This, as you can imagine, would be most people’s ideal work scenario. Wake up, get ready, walk downstairs, work, come upstairs for lunch, walk back down to finish out the day. Matt has always talked and dreamt about working from home, ever since we have been together.  He makes the perfect amount for me to stay at home and raise our son and still put food on the table and we have been blessed with so many opportunities through his job that I know we would have never thought possible. So for his boss to allow him to work from home is more than a blessing, it is yet again another testament  to how good god really is. God has a funny way of reminding you that regardless of what you think, you’re not in control of your life, he is. We spent countless hours praying about what our next step in life should be. When it almost seemed like maybe god wasnt listening, he flooded us with encouragment. It was an amazing experience...

      

       So here comes my gray area. The majority of Matt’s family is in Albert Lea, as is some of mine. BUT have a house we love in Rochester, the place we brought our son home to on his second day of life, the place we made our own together. But we have no family, and although they are wonderful friends, very few in Rochester.  It has been a difficult decision on what to do. But I think we both always knew where our hearts were, it’s just working out all the details that seems to get in the way. 

      

  To simply spell it out, WE ARE MOVING TO ALBERT LEA THIS SATURDAY (Nov. 5^th). Matthew, Me, Asher and two really stupid dogs are invading my father-in-laws house for 9 or so months. We cannot sell our house until July.  We describe it as a trial period. If it works in Albert lea, and we love it there, we can stay and get our own place and sell our house in Rochester. If not, hey, we have a house still in Rochester.

       

      We are very excited to reconnect with old friends and make plenty of new ones.(Especially ones with kids, Asher needs friends bad :)  )  I want to apologize to anyone we did not tell earlier, like has sort of taken over, as well as trying to pack with a 7 month old who cant stay in one place longer then a second, and a husband that works full time. It has been beyond difficult so I figured it best to blog about it to let most everyone know all at once. Our life is changing drastically, again. Seems like my gypsy, serial moving ways have finally caught up with me, and now I realize just how hard it is to move. And I am only packing necessities at this point.  Packing up a small child’s things is nearly impossible, since once you pack a toy away; it seems to be the only one he wants. Regardless, we will be there on Saturday, trailer full of baby stuff, and the few things of ours that actually fit after. I just have to keep telling myself we are doing it for Asher. Otherwise, after trying to pack things, I may have instead chosen to die in this house, or burn it to the ground. .. All kidding aside, We are very eager to start our life in Albert Lea, to show Asher all the best play grounds, bring him to the lake, and feed him plaza morena as a staple in his diet.  Most of all to enjoy spending time with the amazing, and loving bunch of people that comes with living in there. 

ALBERT LEA, HERE WE COME!!...

A Day At The Park

Where the Sidewalk Ends
from the book "Where the Sidewalk Ends" (1974)

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
and we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
for the children, they mark, and the children, they know,
the place where the sidewalk ends.

Today, Asher and myself decided it was about time we take our first trip to the park down the street. Earlier last week I had put Asher in his bouncer, it's the kind that hangs from a door frame, and I began to push him in it like a swing. Although his legs were still hitting the ground he laughed and laughed. I knew it was time to hit the park and show him what a real swing was made of.

**DISCLAIMER** Asher is not normally dressed so, um, terribly. I promise. It was my first time having to find him "play clothes". disregard the stained up shirt and mismatched pants :)

THE SWINGS

 

 

FLYING

You may notice things other then legs hanging out of the swing. Turns out the swing is a little large for a 6 month old. So we improvised and packed random things from our diaper bag inside the seat with Asher.

Swinging is, for obvious reasons, VERY FUNNY!

 Swinging, as you can imagine, took a lot out of us, so we decided to take a little break and chew on a toy.

Break time was over, now to conquer the SLIDE!  

DUN DUN DUUUNNNNN!!!......

 READY SET GO!!!

Hmm, maybe not as enthused as we thought we would be. But nonetheless, the slide was conquered!

For the first time ever, Asher is introduced to sand. He would squish his feet into it and wiggle them all around. He loved how it felt

Despite trying to eat the sand multiple times, Asher learned it still fun to play with it even if it can't go in his mouth.

Our day at the park had come to end. The clouds were rolling in and the wind had really started picking up. It was time to go home. I strapped Asher into his stroller and started walking back to the house. The whole way home he was smiling and babbeling BABA MAMAMAMA EEEEEEEE AHHAHHH. I think he was telling his toys about his fun day at the park.

But wait! The fun didn't stop there! What else could we have possibly done you ask? Well, we realized just how dirty sand is and we had to get clean. And just for fun.....

Hide under the coffee table :)

Finders Keepers?

     After coming home last weekend from what was a very eventful, fun, and exhausting weekend up in the cities, I was getting Asher ready for bed while my husband was unloading the car and putting things away. To my surprise he came into my sons room and said, oooppss, I didn't realize the box wasn't for us." He had, unknowingly opened a package that was sitting at our doorstep only to notice that the receipt on top of the merchandise was addressed to someone else. He said the paper said something about fruity pebbles, so I'm thinking, do people really order cereal online too? wow. I guess if you can get a good deal. It took me a while to get Asher all tucked into bed and to sleep before I could check out this mystery cereal box for myself. As I fumbled over the receipt looking for the address of the original owner I notice on the header "LIA SOPHIA JEWELRY". My curiosity got the best of me as I looked for the fruity pebbles only to find it was the name of a necklace. At the bottom of the receipt I see a total of  $418.00. There in, starts my major dilemma. I had in my hands, over four hundred dollars of jewelry, that, if I kept it no one would ever know I had it. It was free, it was a Summer miracle. I had worked hard this year, I was pregnant, had a baby,and started school for my bachelors degree. Our family has given up a lot of our creature comforts and "gifts to ourselves" in order to have a child and for me to stay home and raise him. I haven't bought a single piece of jewelry in over a year, not even a turn your finger green ring from the quarter machine. I DESERVED THIS. I opened up all the boxes just basking in their glory. Thinking about what clothes they would match, where I would wear some of the pieces first, and getting a little pouty about the fact that there were only 1 pair of earrings. 

      

     In the midst of my greed driven party for one I realized what may happen to the person these are for. If your not familiar with Lia Sophia it is one of those pyramid type companies, someone has a  party, people buy the product, and the party host delivers the merchandise. So what happens when the pre paid  merchandise does not make it to the host? She is out $418.00. What if she is just like me? A stay at home mom, only this is her one way of making some sort of income. My greed could ruin her. If I had 400+ dollars taken from me, it could sink my family. Was I the type of person to do that to someone?

     The next morning, I called her. Because I had no packing tape I figured it would be safer for her to come get it rather then me leaving it on her doorstep for someone else to look into or steal. She told me she had to run an errand then she would be over. I thought that odd. I had almost half a thousand dollars worth of her stuff, I was only 2 streets away, and she wasn't going to come get it first? 

     The day progressed and finally by 2pm, (I had called her at 9am) She called and said she was on her way. I waited at the window watching every mini van and SUV pass without stopping. If she was a mommy like me where is her mommy vehicle? I have a baby friendly SUV so she must too. A few minutes later a tiny little 2 door sport car pulls up into my driveway and a 20 something girl steps out. OK, so maybe shes not EXACTLY like me. I handed her the box and waited for the thank yous and There just aren't enough people like you in the worlds. But nothing, not even an I'm glad you called. So I told her my husband opened it by mistake, but could you just believe my excitement when I saw what was inside! She just looked at me and said yea, I went on a little shopping spree...

     I should have kept it! I should have gotten to look pretty, and feel special in my new jewelry. She didn't deserve it, she didn't pop out a kid and give up her whole identity for the title of mom. She didn't have to cut off her once long blond hair because it was falling out in clumps and her child was using it as a safety rope to hold on too. Her tummy isn't weird looking, and shes not eating chicken everyday ensure that she looks like she did pre-baby. Her chest doesn't change sizes dependent on the time of day. That jewelry was going to dangle from my neck, wrists and ears, and make me feel like a real woman again. Instead she will just add it to her already to full armoire, wear it once and forget about it. 

     She pulled out of the driveway and after all my ranting and raving in my head I couldn't help but think, Why do I think I am so entitled? She doesn't owe me anything, the jewelry was hers, I didn't pay for it, I would have just been stealing it. Why did I think my life was so dramatically changed borderline ruined? I have a husband who loves me unconditionally, a child who loves me without hesitation, and a career of staying home and simply being a mom that many working moms would give anything to have. Sometimes I need a slap in the face and a voice that tells me "You've got what you have always wanted, the only thing you lack is the ability to be content. Learn how." I can only speak for myself but I assume that most of us think we need more, we need bigger and better and we forget that everytime we wish for something more or covet anothers life we are leaving those who love us behind. Its selfish. My son didn't ask to be born, I asked to have him. I knew what came with a child, so why was I feeling like I deserved jewelry because of my efforts. I HAVE A CHILD, that's my compensation. I don't need jewelry to feel pretty, I HAVE A HUSBAND, who didn't marry me because of the rocks hanging off my limbs. He's seen me without makeup, during child birth, and unable to hold my liquor, he knows me at my worst and still loves me. 

 So here are the lessons I have learned:

1. I probably should have been put in jail for tampering with US mail.

2. Just because the lady with the jewelry wasn't like me right now doesn't mean I wasn't just like her at one point.

3.Material objects cannot smile at you, kiss you, laugh with you, love you or change your life. Especially if they are stolen.

4. I WILL be blessed by god for giving it back, somehow, I have no doubt, he recognizes our struggles and rewards our good decisions. He gives us tests and its up to us to pass them.

5. After the age of 6, finders keepers doesn't pertain to you.

Dear Younger Version of Me,

Dear 15 year old me,
  For gods sake, do not lite that cigarette. You will cough, your eyes will water and you will look like a fool. It's not worth it. Stop now. If you don't you will be a smoker for 9 years. That's right, 9 years. That enough time to have 7 or 8 children, to get a PHD, or enough time to get yellow teeth, multiple cavities, and not be able to walk a mile without wheezing and almost passing out.
   That boyfriend you love so much? The one you want to have kids with and marry and live happily ever after with? Lands hims self multiple times in jail. Drinks early in the day, uses, and ruins your friends lives. Sure he may eventually clean up his act, but why wait?
   That little girl your sister has when she is 19 years old will be the beginning for the career you will eventually have an immense passion for. She wont ruin your life, or take attention away from you that you thought you deserved. You will love her like your own, miss her like crazy when shes gone and she will repair a long broken relationship you had with your sister. Let it happen, don't fight it.
   High school is hard, I am glad you finally stopped wearing all the black and hiding behind something you weren't. You do need a relationship with god, and one day you will see that. But for now, grow your hair back out, trash the all screaming music, smile a little.

Dear 17 year old me,

  Stop Smoking! Pull your shirt up and your skirt down. You are so much better than this. You exercise to much and you eat way to little. Your new boyfriend, the one you love so much and have put 2 years into? He's cheating on you. A lot. You may think he is good looking and confident, but really he is egotistical and immature. He makes you feel inadequate. You finally come to terms with this in a few months. But why wait. Senior year will seem so freeing being single, and you will finally find out that having friends rather then a boyfriend, is so much more fulfilling.
   Your going to start drinking soon. I don't just mean here and there trying a beer your friend stole from their parents. I mean really drinking. Drinking to get drunk. Drinking to forget and drinking to get noticed. You are to young. You will drink so much after high school that you will get put on academic probation at a community college. A student with a 4.0 GPA, and you wont even be able to get up in the morning for your 9am class. You will mix pills with liquor, and have what you think is a great time, followed by a very scary episode that you probably should have died or at the vary least spent time in a hospital for. Thank god your sister is a nurse, and will rescue you. Your parents will love you harder then they ever have that night, Your mom will hold you while you sleep in her bed for hours and hours and hours,and you will move back home, away from the anxiety and ultimately to much freedom that comes with being 18. You are not a failure. But I am pleading with you, just stop drinking now.
   Oh yeah, when you go outside and see the nerdy guy across the street washing his car, smile and say hi, EVERY TIME. He ends up being your husband.

Dear 19 year old me,

   Your still smoking I see... You're family will move away from you. 800 miles away. Remember, you chose not to go with them, They didn't abandon you. So quit using that as en excuse for falling back into your old ways. Stop smoking, and i mean everything, and drinking. You curse like a sailor but I can live with that. Remember your friends that are always there for you at this age? 6 years later they still are. So cling to them, love them. Because you start to lose people you know. Really, it seems young, but people start to die. It won't make sense, but it will happen.
  Don't go to school for cosmetology, your good at it, but you ruin your feet and you and I both know it's not your passion. You're scared and you think you need a quick fix. Get your bachelors degree, So I don't have to be getting it while I'm writing this.
 Please don't keep dating these men who have addictions and no real love for you. You have curves and blond hair, that's what they like about you. Stop treating  all the nice guys like friends. Your only hurting yourself. The assholes will forget you, and the nice guys will marry someone more deserving. You will end up with a nice guy, so stop giving so much of your heart away to the jerks.

Dear 21 year old me,
   I am going to shove that cigarette so far up your...Isn't it funny that now you can drink, you don't want to? At least not recklessly. Guess you had to learn that on your own.I'm glad you made it out to Colorado to live with your family. But now you  have to cut ties. Go out and live on your own, without the social pressures of your old town. Its a new start. You are relying on your parents to much.
  When you meet your husband, try new things. He is full of great ideas and you are to stubborn to try them. Please realize, you ARE going to marry him, so stop treating him like shit for the first 3 months of your relationship. All he ever did was love you. Get over yourself. He will leave you, he almost does.
  Also, You accidentally head butt him with your tooth, which leaves a scar on his forehead. Try to avoid that. It's a funny story but any harder and he might have looked like harry potter.

   Stop looking for the next best thing. Let life happen, you waste so much time trying to get whats bigger, better, and the grass will always be greener on the other side. Do not make a rash decision to move. You do it to many times. You will regret it , and you will never know what life would have been like.
   The DJ will show up for your wedding. 1 hour late. This is when you are given permission to drink. Have fun, and embrace the day. The moment you say I DO will fly by, try to remember it.


Dear 23 Year old me,
  It will take you until the day you find out you are pregnant to fully quit smoking, 9 years. I cannot help but dread the repercussions of your decisions.
  Your brother will have a baby girl, your sister will marry the man she had been waiting for for 10 years, and your oldest sister will have her 2nd child. Life will cycle over again. You will have a son. Pregnancy sucks, lets be honest, Childbirth? I can see why people have died from it.You go back to school for your bachelors degree. Better late then never. In the end, your still alive, you could have done things a lot differently though. But now you know how it turns out. And its good.


Yours Truely,
  The 25 year old version of me.

 

Hi Sleep! I remember you...

Asher (my son) is four months old. His sleeping habits up until this point have been less the ideal. I spent countless hours rocking, singing, nursing, and walking him back to sleep every night. It was exhausting.I for some reason have an overwhelming fear that I will kill my child by starving him to death and it will happen instantly if I don't feed him when he cried. The fear mostly comes from my inability to recognize his hunger cues and all the things I read say not to wait until he is crying to feed him, that means its to late, I am to feed him when he is showing early signs of hunger with his hunger cues. So naturally I fed him every 2 hours. And when the dr said he could now sleep through the night without being woken to eat my obsession with making sure he ate enough meant feed him whenever he wakes on his own crying at night. This, in time, was going to kill me. One night I got the notion to pray. Don't get me wrong I pray a lot over Asher. But this time it was for sleep. Which for some reason I had never thought to do. He was whining and moaning in his crib, eyes closed but obviously about to wake up. Hitting himself with his crazy flying hands, flinging his feet in the air. My normal instinct would have said ok pick him up before he wakes up screaming and rock him back to sleep. if he wakes up. feed him. But this time as I was praying I got an overwhelming sense of peace about the idea of simply Putting the pacifier in his mouth in the darkness and waiting patiently for him to "work it out". Never before have I felt ok with not feeding him or comforting him in my arms. I felt like such a bad mother not picking him up. Within 10 minutes he was back to sleep. I did this 3 more times that night until finally feeding him at 5 am. Since that night he has been able to put himself back to sleep instead if waking all the way up crying. He just moans and wiggles,and I just wait clinging to the monitor until I hear that sweet sound of baby sleepy breaths. Don't get me wrong, we have bad nights still. We aren't perfect. But I think that was one of gods first lessons in parenting. I have learned that as a parent my job is to teach my child. No matter how much it hurts or makes me feel like a failure. Right down to teaching my son how to fall back asleep. Teaching isn't all fun, the rewards seem distant and futile. But all of my worrying proved to be for nothing. Asher is still alive and on good nights sleeps 6 or 7 hours straight. I don't even notice the moans and wiggles most of the time anymore. the monitor volume level is at half strength now.
Our next step? Crying it out. He cannot initially put himself to sleep at bed time or nap time. I still nurse or rock him to sleep. I'm dreading it but I know god will hold my hand and give me the tools to teach my child a valuable skill. I often forget that god is in control and I need to let go of my worrying ways. It amazes me and forever will that god is in everything we do, even down to our desperate cries for sleep. He hears them and he helps. Not just for a moment but he wants to help solve the whole problem. We just need to stop being so full of pride thinking we got this thing down. Cuz come on, it's parenting, no one has it down.

Asher's Story

Sometime in April 2010 me and my husband had made the long awaited decision to try to have a child. We had spoke on the subject even before we were married. We waited the typical year or two, which I would not have traded for anything. Having time with just my spouse, and two stupid dogs, is something many people don't get anymore, especially women. I can't imagine being a single parent, but thats for another blog. Anyways, 2 great years later we decided it was baby time. And apparently god agreed because a month or so later I was pregnant.
I had just finished work around 3pm it was a beautiful day in July. I wanted to sit out on the deck and indulge in a cocktail while waiting for Matt to come home and something told me to just check and make sure I wasn't "with child". Three pregnancy tests later I found myself staring in the bathroom mirror trying to recognize my own face. Did it look different? My face that is. Did I look pregnant, like a mom? No. I looked like me, without the cocktail I wanted. Without a cocktail for 9 months, or a cigarette. Like me but ever so slowly getting fatter. like me, only not knowing what the hell I am doing.
I text Matt at work simply telling him he needed to get home because I was having a meltdown. In hindsight I can see why that would freak him out and make him think someone tragic had happened. In the meantime I started pacing the house, jumping for joy, and trying not to cry hysterically. I was happy, but scared. I thought when Matt got home everything would be fine. Not the case. He ran into the house and I pulled out the test and showed him it. He was silent until he said "Megan, I thought someone died!" for the next 3 days he barley spoke about it. Not the reaction I was looking for, but it was probably not the way he wanted to be told either. We did call and see a lot of people to let them know we were expecting, so I suppose there was some initial excitement.
After Matt got over his shock he began to talk about it. About the sametime I started barfing. If morning sickness doesn't make you wish you would have waited longer to get pregnant I don't know what would. I threw up brushing my teeth, driving, mid sentence, pretty much whenever my body felt like it until around 16 weeks. Then magically it stopped. With a blissfully easy 2nd trimester came the ultrasound telling us our baby was a healthy boy chewing on his feet. 3rd trimester followed with back pain, nerve pain, exhaustion,a freezing cold snowy winter and 35 lbs heavier then last summer. My belly size was a constant 4-5 weeks bigger then it should have been. Really no explanation for it but it sure made me miserable.so if you wanted to know what a pregnant lady looks like If the baby was to be in her belly for 44 weeks you should have seen me at 39 weeks right before I had him. Every time baby would stretch out he would almost crack my rib. We were sure he would come out a 25lb toddler.

The morning of...
5am on march 20th I woke up having to pee. This being nothing out of the ordinary Matt slept through it. Until I came back into the room to tell him ( in an effort to keep this less graphic) that I needed to call the hospital because I think we are having the baby. The hospital advised us to go walk to start contractions so we went to walmart and the mall. We found out that if you get to the mall before it opens the mall walkers are there and they set up cones like a track. They lapped us, a lot. I had to stop every three minutes to breathe through a contraction. I am sure everyone was looking at me thinking, my god why won't someone take that poor woman to the hospital? Eventually, after I ate some subway from the food court, we did go to the hospital. At 11 am I was 3 centimeters and having major back labor. Baby boy was coming out sunny side up ( facing upwards) which is less then ideal. We tried everything they said to get him to flip, nothing worked. By 3pm they had talked me into taking numorphin. it helped me relax and eventually made my contrations stop. I wanted so badly to have this baby so contrations flat out stopping was not an option. At one point I prayed to let them start again so they wouldnt send me home. A half our later and about 20 laps around the birth center later the contractions were back, and they hit like a mack truck. I cried through most of them, forgot to breathe, and was begging for relief. My birth plan was to wait until i was 6 centimeters before an epidural. Why six? I have no idea.I wanted to prove to myself I wasn't a wuss, but when it comes to labor, I found, with the help of the nurses and my husband, that it was ok to be a wuss. Its ok to have a baby with less pain. I would never have surgery without getting knocked out, so why try and be a super hero while pushing a human being out of my body.
The nerdy doctor with the epidural was a little OCD about telling me step by step what he was doing. Sure I wanna know whats going on but damn, just do it already. He yelled at matt for touching the top of my shoulder blade and had to resteralize my back, if I wasn't having a baby I would have laughed at that. Poor Matt, just trying to be a good coach. When he finally finished he pushed the magic button and said he would be back in 20 min to check on me. 20 min later and 20 contractions worth of pain nerdy doctor made his way back to my room. "can you feel this" "yes" i said. "can you lift your leg?" umm yes I thought and I nearly did a high kick.
UH Ohh.. turns out the epidural isnt working. As if having a long needle jabbed into your spine isn't bad enough try sitting still for it while going through horrific contractions, TWICE. Long story short, he hit 2 nerves sending me flying uncontrollably almost off the bed, thank god for matt keeping me off the floor, the make up that I insisted on wearing to the hospital that morning (i had to look nice for pictures, right..) was now black streaks down my face that matt tried tirelessly to wipe off because he knew how ugly it made me feel having it there. the epidural was in, 6 inches worth, which apparently is really deep, but hey, it worked.
My doctor, who i had never met, came in once i was relaxed, broke my water, i was at 6 centimeters, and she told us to get some sleep. It was around 11 pm when we both fell asleep. I don't remember sleeping, but all of a sudden i opened my eyes still in the hospital feeling a lot,and i mean a lot, of pressue. I yelled at matt that something was wrong and to go get the nurse. He did, she checked me and I was at a 10. i had gone from a 6 to a 10 in 1 hour and i slept through it. Everyone says thats great, i say imagine waking up from a nap with someone telling you to push out a baby.
I pushed on my back and on my sides, I was constantly moving. the worst part? the epidural didnt work for the pushing, i felt everything. With every push matt would tell me that it was the last one. We joke about it now, but at the time his words, wether they were a lie or not,were the only thing getting me through the pain. Many times i had made peace with the idea of just not pushing anymore, part of me wanted to tell the nurse, "you cant make me". Instead I just listened to Matt. They say pushing is relieving,not for me, i was perfectly content with him staying in my belly and avoiding this pain. but as human nature would have it eventually his head came out, which to me meant my work was done. I layed back and relaxed just taking in my efforts for a second until Matt yelled that i wasn't done, i had to get his shoulders out. well crap, ok one more, and thats all it took. Asher had made his arrival. He even at the last minute flipped the right way. They placed my screaming, gooey, little boy on my chest and started cleaning him off. A feeling of complete helplessness and joy overwhelmed me. I was a mommy, Matt was a daddy, we were parents. All i managed to repeatedly say through my sobbing was "look at him, look at him" Matt had his moment with Asher when he was brought over to the warmer. Asher grasped onto Matts finger, and he was in love.
Asher Jonas had 10 fingers and 10 toes, a head full of hair, and a life of possibility. Born after an hour and a half of pushing and 22 hours of labor at 2:03 am 3-21-11. 7lbs 13 oz. As i sat in the hospital, still in pain, anxious and scared, i waited for that moment, that feeling of unconditional love to set in. I waited and waited, until that next night, in the silence and darkness of the sterile hospital room I stared at my son. Swaddled in a blanket sleeping. I started sobbing. Apologizing for all the things I didn't do right, all of the things I cant give him, and promising him, with the deepest part of me, that I would do my absolute best to love him, take care of him, and show him the grace of god. I held his tiny hand knowing that my motherhood moment wasn't born out of sheer joy, but out of an animalistic instinct to protect and nurture my son. I had already loved him long before he was born, I was a mother the minute that test said positive. I just needed to tell Asher that.

Decision to start

I am a writer, or so I chose to believe. I type grammatically incorrect and probably way to fast. I write with correct punctuation and a lot of eraser marks. Im not sure which is worse. Either way I chose to tell you, the reader, this In hopes that you don't judge my misuse of punctuation and spelling errors and chose to see what I am writing rather then how. My blog probably won't make sense as it will be a random jumble of thoughts, stories, and questions.
Here goes...