I don’t want to be done…

As the months progress and I watch my second born grow, I’m realizing how fast time flies. She’s starting to be more alert and smile more. Before I know it, she’ll be holding her head up on her own and then from there she’ll learn to roll over and crawl and then walk and talk. My first born is already forming full sentences and learning new things every day. It’s a bittersweet feeling. Whenever I see pictures of my first born little, I can remember the time and how the days went. I can remember watching her grow. I just never realized that it actually happened so quickly. My second born isn’t even 6 months old yet. She’s almost 4 months old though, so 6 isn’t far behind. Even though she’s still a baby, I’m wishing the newness of her wasn’t passing by go quickly. She just recently stopped waking up every 3 hours at night. Sometimes she sleeps through the night. Sometimes she wakes up once or twice. She’s growing. She’s becoming older and it makes me sad.

It literally feels like the NICU days were just yesterday. I remember her birth. I remember my stay and her stay in the hospital. I remember the trips to the hospital. I remember knowing that it was best for her there but hating I had to be so far away. I remember feeling like a crappy mom because she wasn’t home with me. I remember everything so vividly. How the week went leading up to her coming into this world way to early. I remember being scared the night before I had her. My biggest fear was having to have a C-Section and I thank god every day that I didn’t have too. I remember all this like it just happened yesterday. But it didn’t. Soon, she’ll be 4 months old. And then so on and so forth. Before I know it, she’ll be a year old. And all I’ll have are the memories of all this. It makes me sad because she’ll be the last baby I have. Don’t get me wrong, I want more babies. I always pictured myself with at least 3. 2 girls, 1 boy or 1 girl and 2 boys. I’ll never have that though. Just because I WANT another baby doesn’t mean that I’ll HAVE another baby. As much as I’m not ready to be done, my brain tells me that I should be.

My heart breaks at the thought of being done though. If I knew she was absolutely going to be the last baby I had, I would have done things differently during my pregnancy. I would have taken those monthly pictures. I would have painted my stomach for Halloween. Or just took more pregnancy pictures in general. But that stuff didn’t happen because I found myself with no time. I found myself constantly busy raising my toddler. And I always thought to myself that I’d have at least once more, especially once I found out she was a girl. I love everything about my daughter but I also wanted my chance at a boy. And thinking about that boy just makes me yearn so much more for another baby. I was told by my gynecologist that I could have kids but they’d make me take a shot. It was offered during this pregnancy but I opted out since my first born wasn’t crazy early. But my brain can’t stop thinking about the “What ifs..”

“What if I took the shots and the baby was full term? Would my body be able to handle it? Would I be able to deliver naturally like my other too?”

“What if I needed a C-Section? I hear they’re very painful and the recovery time is longer than a vaginal delivery. How would I take care of two children while being in pain? Who would help me take care of myself? How many days would I want to cry because of the pain?”

“What if, even with the shots, the baby was born prematurely? How prematurely would it be born? Would it be born at the 36 week mark like my first born and be fine to come home? Would it be born like my second and have to stay at the hospital until she was cleared to go home? If born too premature, who would take care of my two other children while in the hospital? Could I handle leaving another child until it was well enough to come home? What if it was born way to premature and only weighed a pound when it was born? What if it had to stay longer than 12 days? How would I be able to afford that?”

“What if I took the shots? What if they didn’t work? What if I had a reaction to them?”

All the what ifs and hows and whys. They drive me insane. I yearn to have another baby. I don’t want to be done having children. I wanted three. I wanted a somewhat big family. I want to keep raising my children because it’s such an amazing family. Being a mother is something I’m good at. Something I feel like I was born to do. Watching my children grow and learn and become their own person is such an amazing feeling, especially because I’m a Stay at Home Mom. I can take credit for everything that they learned because I’m the one teaching them. When they become potty trained or learn a letter or their name or how to count, I can say “I did that. That’s because of me.” And that’s an incredible feeling. Being a parent is such a demanding job and even though it has it’s bad moments, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I love being a mom and I’d love to have a third child. But just because it’s something that I want doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to happen. Because in my brain, I know it’s not plausible to have another one. And that truly breaks my heart.


It takes a village….

They say that it takes a village to raise a child and I completely agree. Before you have kids, you never realize how much work actually goes into raising children. There are people out there who like to try to compare taking care of a child to taking care of a dog and while they may have their similarities, it’s definitely more work to take care of a child. Being a parent means you never get a day off. You have to be up when your “boss” calls to you, even if you only slept 4 hours the night before. Being a parent means that you have to put yourself last. The needs of your baby always come first. It can honestly become overwhelming at times. But then your child will smile at you for the first time or coo and you’ll realize that it’s all worth it.

I say that it does take a village because I couldn’t imagine raising my daughters without my parents living close to me. When my first daughter was born, I lived with my parents. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I was a first time mom with this little baby. I never changed a baby’s diaper that was that little. I never breastfed or prepared formula. I never had to deal with something waking me up by crying in the middle of the night. It’s a lot to try to get used too. My mom was a godsend with my first daughter. The first week of my daughter’s life, she helped me transition into being a mom. She would wake up in the middle of the night with me and help me change the baby’s diaper. If the baby had a blow out, she would help me clean up that too. She would help me prepare a bottle if I needed it or burp her if she needed it. She did it a lot when I first came home but as I slowly got the hang of everything and learned my new role in life, she got to actually get back to her normal sleep schedule. With my second daughter, she didn’t live in the same house as I did so I had to do it all on my own. It didn’t take that long for me to fall into a routine. My parents were helpful when my second daughter was born. They are the ones who helped take care of Melody while I was in the hospital. I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have them. They’re honestly the only people I trust to watch my children. It’s hard to trust anyone nowadays.

It does take a village to raise a child. My village just so happens to be a small one. But I’m grateful for them every day and all that they do. They help make this parenting experience easier.

Doing Things Differently

When I delivered my first daughter, I only allowed my boyfriend and mom in the room. First off, I’m shy and I don’t want a whole audience watching me give birth. Second off, I figured it would just be better that way. I come from a family who used to be close but over the years as drifted apart. So my parent’s being a part of it was a no-brainer. However, my boyfriend comes from a family who may not get along all the time but they like to be included in things like that. But since it’s my body and I carried the baby and was the one who had to deliver it, I decided who I wanted in the room. I fully believed it was no one’s choice but my own. The first time my daughter was born, I accepted visitors. My boyfriend’s stepmom was there right after I gave birth. I didn’t have any other visitors that night. The next day/night, my mom and dad came. Also, some of my boyfriend’s family came. And by some, I mean his sister, her boyfriend, his other sister, and his mom. It was a full house. I honestly wasn’t up to having visitors but did it anyways so I didn’t have to hear people complain about it. That was in the hospital. At the time, my boyfriend and I lived in separate houses, so when I went home I didn’t really have anybody visit me. He came over and that was about it. However, I did end up taking her out to see his parents and looking back now, I regret it. I honestly feel I should have never had to leave my house so people could see my daughter. I was the one who just gave birth. was the one who had stitches. was the one who was a new mom. Plus it was winter. It should have been people coming to visit me in the comfort of my home. That’s why I decided to do things differently the second time around.

The second time around, I wasn’t going to have any visitors in the hospital except my mom. This plan didn’t matter anyways because I delivered so far away from home, no one was going to visit me. The second time around, I wasn’t dragging my child out for people to see. The way I see it now is if people care enough to see my daughter, they’ll come see her at my mom. I may have had an easier labor this time around but it still should be on my behalf. Also, I have a toddler now. It would be crazy to pack up two kids, in the middle of winter, so people could see the baby. It just wouldn’t make sense. So, with that being said. My infant is almost two months old and only 1 person has been to see her.

It just goes to show you how much people care. I understand people are busy in their lives but so am I. I’m a new mom all over again and this time, I have to get used to taking care of two kids. On top of that, I’m working on potty training my 2 year old. It just wouldn’t make sense to pack them both up.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is if you’re a new mom or even a second time mom, make the best choice for you. Don’t try to impress people or make things easier on them. You’re the one whose life just got turned upside down.Do what is best for you and your family.