Bumper Stickers Can Wait

By Kate Kole

It’s usually bumper stickers that start it.

I’ll be walking my son in his stroller, watching him pull at his socks and kick his legs happily as he woofs back at dogs in the neighborhood. I’m usually listening to a podcast about motherhood, nodding my head as the women I’ve self-declared as friends talk about how they do mornings and meal times and meet other moms.

I’ll catch a glimpse of a bumper sticker as a minivan rolls by. Something about dance or soccer. My mind will start to wander. I’ll begin imagining recitals and open fields. I’ll think of our blonde little boy chasing a ball. I picture buns and tutus. Orange slices and Gatorade. Cheering on sidelines and carpool lines. 

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The Truth About Postpartum Anxiety

By Becky Houdesheldt

While I sat rocking my daughter in her nursery last night, trying yet another position to get her to go back to sleep, I closed my eyes and rested my lips on her head. I tried to remind myself to relish the time with her while she’s small. She turns 5 months tomorrow, and I lost my first two months with her to postpartum anxiety.

My anxiety robbed me of enjoying my first weeks with her. I honestly thought I was on top of my symptoms. I wasn’t. I finally admitted I needed more help after I acknowledged I was experiencing intrusive thoughts, and it took me 5 weeks before I could get in to a postpartum specialist.

I couldn’t call my daughter by her name. I didn’t want to look at her. I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts because I’d lose myself in a whirlwind of fears and anxieties that I knew weren’t rooted in reality, but I couldn’t pull myself out of them. I felt out of control, out of touch, and at a loss. I returned to a new job after 6 weeks at home, and I was a mess.

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Her Life Isn’t Perfect Either

By Kate Kole

Communal restrooms and a shared cubicle for a bedroom were hardly my favorite part of dorm living in college. I habitually whispered “I’m sorry” to my roommate as I whipped up my morning smoothie before 8 am class. No need for an alarm clock when you have a blender on full speed just feet away from your bunk. 

That being said, what I’ve come to retrospectively appreciate, was the inability to fully hide anything. 

My friends knew when I had a hard day, because I had to cry somewhere. And unless I chose a dirty bathroom stall, privacy wasn’t really an option. Homesickness, insecurities, and academic struggles were on full display. 

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Giving Up Blessing Sandwiches

Giving Up Blessing Sandwiches

By Kate Kole

Soon after our son was born, I developed a somewhat standard response to check-in questions. “Hard and best.” That’s how I described my transition into motherhood. Because it felt impossible to mention one without the other. The sleep deprivation without the joy, the loneliness without the fulfillment, the loss of one identity without the discovery of another.

Eventually, I graduated to the blessing sandwich.

You know, the “I’m grateful I get to stay home with him. Sure, sometimes it’s isolating. But I feel really fortunate to have this time together.” Or the, “He’s a really happy baby. Still not sleeping through the night. But all the smiles during the day make up for it.”

One good thing. One hard thing. One good thing again. Continue reading

Healthy Baby, Healthy Mama

Healthy Baby, Healthy Mama.jpg

By Kate Kole

I didn’t have a detailed birth plan. Without ever having ever gone through labor and delivery, I was unsure of how I’d feel about pain management or who I’d really want in the room when it was time to push. So, on the hospital form, I kept my preferences short and sweet. Healthy baby, healthy mama. That was it.

At 40 weeks and 6 days pregnant, I went into labor. After 28 hours, I gave birth to our sweet boy. I awaited the moment everyone promises, when all the pain and pushing evaporates and you hold your baby in your arms for the first time. Continue reading

The Things I Never Knew Before Becoming A Mom

The Things I Never Knew Before Becoming A Mom

By Chelsea O’Neal

I never knew many things before becoming a mother. I had heard “stories” from other parents but like many people, I thought “surely those are myths.” And then I became a mom and boy did things change.

I never knew how scary it was caring for another tiny little human. How delicate I’d think she was. How afraid I’d be to make the wrong decision in even the simplest of situations. I never knew I wouldn’t leave the house on time ever again. Or that when I’d finally leave, I’d be toting around a giant bag of everything in the house.  Continue reading

Life Is Both.

Life Is Both..jpeg

By Kate Kole

When I lived in Houston, my favorite radio station had a weekly prank call segment where the DJ would regularly repeat the phrase, “honey, we all got problems,” with a thick southern drawl. It was like listening to a scene from SNL and I’d often laugh so hard that I cried, hearing the outrageous personal issues she’d list in detail to the stranger on the other end of the line.

Her voice and that expression have stayed with me over the years and I’ll often find myself replaying some variation of those words in my mind. They’re my reassuring reminder that none of us is without insecurities, imperfections, or self-doubt. That regardless of how confident, poised, and put together our lives may seem from the outside looking in, we’re all dealing with something, or more accurately, some things. Continue reading

Does It Make Me A Bad Parent?

Does It Make Me A Bad Parent

By Chelsea O’Neal

Does it make me a bad parent? That’s the question that kept running through my head the other day. That’s the question I repeated over and over in regards to every parenting decision I am making. Does it make me a bad parent?

Does it make me a bad parent if some days I feel parenthood is just a little too overwhelming? Does it make me a bad parent if some days I just want her to sleep all day so I can get a breather? If I get annoyed sometimes when she’s climbing all over me, fussy and wanting me to hold her? If every time she grabs a handful of hair and yanks and I just want to yell “stop!Continue reading

10 Things I Wish I Could Tell My Pregnant Self After My First 10 Weeks of Motherhood

10 Things I Wish I Could Tell My Pregnant Self After My First 10 Weeks of Motherhood.jpg

By Jillian Stacia

It feels like just yesterday that I was pregnant. If I close my eyes, I can almost convince myself that the past 10 weeks have been a dream, and when I wake up, I’ll be curled around my humongous body pillow, still nine months pregnant.

But that’s not the case. I gave birth to a healthy little boy. I fell madly in love. I brought him home. And my world has never, ever been the same.

I realize that ten weeks is a little early to start dispensing parenthood advice. I’m the last person to call myself an expert. But I’m doing this, I’m living this, I’m breathing this new motherhood thing every single day, and I am startled by everything I’ve learned so far. I want to take the time to document what I’ve discovered right here in the thick of it, before the haze of new motherhood wears off and I forget what it was really and truly like. Continue reading