ML Interest Tag: woke-up

Working Mom Meteorologist Brings Baby on Air for Weather Forecast

by Karly Wood

Likes most parents over the past two years, Meteorologist Rebecca Schuld has been working from home. The new mom, who reports the weather forecast for CBS 58 News in Milwaukee, had just returned from maternity leave and was ready to do a segment when her 13-week-old daughter Fiona woke up from her nap. So Schuld did what we’ve been doing: she brought Fiona to work with her.

Schuld was holding her daughter while doing a mike check before going on air, when her producer asked if Fiona was going to make an appearance. Knowing the baby was fresh off a nap, she decided, why not? What followed was a glimpse into the life of working pandemic parenting in the best way.

Following the segment, viewers have shared how much they loved having Fiona join the show not only for the cute factor, but because it was validation of just how hard we’ve all been working since the pandemic started. The new normal is managing work calls in between feedings and homework, and that we shouldn’t be hiding any of it.

Colleagues and viewers were quick to share their support of Schuld on Twitter, and the experience has lead other Meteorologists to share their lives, too!

Perhaps Fiona will have a career in meteorology one day. Only time well tell.

––Karly Wood

 

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Tiny Birth Stories: When Things Happen Faster Than You Think

by Danielle Rizzo
Partner Content

Our new series, Tiny Birth Stories, is aimed at sharing real-life stories from our readers to our readers. In just 100 words or less, we’re bringing you the raw, the funny and the heartwarming stories you’ve lived while bringing babies into the world. Here are five stories that will have you laughing, crying and nodding your head in solidarity. 

From the moment your baby arrives in the world, you have a lot to think about. Safety 1st has products to ensure the safety and well-being of children in cars, homes, and everywhere in between—giving you one less thing to stress about. Learn more about the highest standards of baby safety established by Safety 1st.

I pushed my baby back inside by Alexandra 

My first labor nightmare was at 32 weeks: I looked down to see tiny feet between my legs. “Not yet, sweet girl. It’s too early,” I pushed her back inside. … Iris Elizabeth was born precipitously IRL the next day. My usual AM Braxton Hicks turned into rapid-fire contractions, lodging my tiny transverse babe into my birth canal. Fully effaced, I dilated from 2-to-8cm in 15 minutes, and dramatically broke my waters on the way to L&D admitting. Before I could process what was happening, I was in recovery from emergency C, with a preemie in the NICU. I lived my nightmare, but a year later, my sweet girl is my best dream come true.

Baby number 4 at home by Sarah B.

I was expecting my fourth baby. My two oldest daughters were home from school the morning that I started contractions at 8am. We watched Mamma Mia 2 and I made a big pot of stew, pausing to grip the counter in between chopping. Hours later at 10pm, I was draped over my yoga ball with my music playing its rhythmic beats. My water broke and I knew the baby was coming.. I yelled, “wake up the girls!” My oldest jumped onto the bed alongside the midwives. I heard my baby cry and my daughter said, “It’s a girl!”

My Covid silver lining by Rachel B. 

A warm June day, my contractions started at 4:30pm. Hanging with family, things accelerated quickly when my water broke around 7pm. By the time we got to the hospital around 8:30pm I was already 6cm dilated. This being my first child, I was preparing for a long birth and needing an epidural, but my son had other plans. BAM, I was 10cm dilated and ready to push! He graced us with his presence at 10:28pm. My sweet Covid silver lining! Such a gem he has been.

Nothing was prepared, and that’s ok by Allison C. 

I was due with my 2nd baby on Thanksgiving day. My first had been induced (eventual Csection) at 41 weeks, so, even through my pregnancy had been tough (subchorionic hematoma, appendectomy, and an international move to name a few!), I was shocked on 10/30 to stand up out of bed and feel my water break! We hadn’t packed a bag or prepped any baby things, yet. We ran around trying to gather a few things we would need, had my sister come stay with our daughter, and went to the hospital. I was hoping for a VBAC, but labor never really began. Around 10 am on 10/31, we opted for a repeat csection. Our beautiful Halloween boy was born without any preemie complications. He was a whopping 7lb14oz at 35 weeks 6 days! His birth taught me that you don’t need every little thing perfect for delivery and a new baby. A lot of prayers and a lot of love (and some wonderful family to get your house ready while you are in the hospital) are enough! Halloween is a little more fun every year now!

No time to make it INTO the hospital by Amber H.

Anxiously awaiting the arrival of our third baby, I woke up at 4:30am to strong contractions. We finally started the 10 minute drive to the hospital, when we were about two stop lights away I felt her head slip between my legs. I told my husband, “she’s crowning!” He pulled up to the hospital and asked me if I wanted a wheelchair, to which I replied, “No! Her head is out come pull my pants down.” He came around to my side of the car where I was sitting with my feet up on the dashboard, he pulled my pants down and to his surprise he saw 1/3 of her head out! After another contraction she was out and I pulled her onto my stomach. Soon after a L & D nurse came rushing down with a wheelchair and blankets. From start to finish I only labored for 2 hours and 15 minutes, much different than my previous labor of 22 hours. I was in shock for a few hours afterwards because it all happened so quickly. All in all her birth was beautifully calm and a unique story that suits our daughter so well.

This post is sponsored by Safety 1st, the leader in home safety for families. Learn more.

 

 

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Tiny Birth Stories: The One Where Mom Gave Birth in a Cab Twice

by Danielle Rizzo
Partner Content

Our new series, Tiny Birth Stories, is aimed at sharing real-life stories from our readers to our readers. In just 100 words or less, we’re bringing you the raw, the funny and the heartwarming stories you’ve lived while bringing babies into the world. Here are five stories that will have you laughing, crying and nodding your head in solidarity. 

From the moment your baby arrives in the world, you have a lot to think about. Safety 1st has products to ensure the safety and well-being of children in cars, homes, and everywhere in between—giving you one less thing to stress about. Learn more about the highest standards of baby safety established by Safety 1st.

I Gave Birth In A Cab- Twice!  by Rose M. 

Both kids were born in cars, the first was in a Livy cab and the second was in a Green cab. The births happened on the same street less than a mile apart, one in front of a 7-eleven and the other in front of a Dunkin’ Donuts. I have zero modesty as a result.

 

The Things You’ll Hear Giving Birth To An 11lb baby by Megan M. 

Judah was born at 11lbs. There were triplets in the room next to us, all together weighing 12lbs. The nurse came in our room and said “your baby looks like he ate the triplets!”

 

I Didn’t Know CVS Sold That by Lindsey M. 

I squatted down in CVS and pop! I stood frozen in shock at the sensation of warm water gushing all over the floor. We raced home. I didn’t even change, and I hauled 10 bags of luggage down the front steps and I watched my MIL narrowly escape a car accident. My labor stalled for 8 hours. I went on pit, refused an epidural like a freak, and started hallucinating in the final dilation. Three hours later I pushed my baby out, just a shell of my former self, clinging to a squat bar, while infomercials played in the background.

Even The Nurse Was Surprised by Clarissa S.

My blood pressure skyrocketed at 38 weeks, but my body wasn’t ready for labor. 2 hospital days later, my body was exactly the same, and we actually almost went home! That night, I woke up with excruciating contractions beyond my wildest imagination. Suddenly, my water broke, and I felt the desperation of a cat clawing its way out of a box. Shaking uncontrollably, I said that if this was the beginning of labor, I needed an epidural to get me through. The nurse prepared to check for any progression whatsoever, but was shocked to find baby’s head under the sheet!

I Wanted To Go For A Walk In The Woods by Jelena B.

Birth can go the way you want it, you just don’t know! So let go. ;) That was my motto! I trusted the process and that’s probably what helped me most with the birth of my son! I had that dream home birth I was hoping for. In Vermont, in the countryside, where I thought I would have time to walk in the woods but no… When my water broke, everything was pretty quick. I did have time to think about adding the rose petals in the tub! My son arrived after 5h30min. All good, cozy and warm on me.

This post is sponsored by Safety 1st, the leader in home safety for families. Learn more.

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When Motherhood Isn’t a Fairytale

By Holly Hatam

Once upon a time, I lived in la-la land. I had magical dreams of a unicorn baby. A baby that slept through the night and never cried. A toddler that was a well-behaved angel. I dreamt of how easy it would be for a baby to nestle into my existing life as a career-driven woman. My dreams were just that, dreams.

The fairytale life I had envisioned quickly turned into a nightmare. My baby had colic, so not only did he not sleep through the night for months, but he cried all day and night, for months. I felt so alone. I felt betrayed by all my mom friends. No one told me how hard motherhood would be. Everyone let me believe that every moment was filled with glitter and rainbows.

My days were filled with darkness. There was no glitter. Unless you count my glistening tears. Every day, I counted down the hours until my husband came home from work. My favorite noise was hearing his key in the door. As much as I couldn’t wait for him to get home every day, I also resented him. I resented the fact that he got to go to work every days. For nine hours a day, he got to escape a crying, screaming, pooping baby. He got to be around adults and have more meaningful conversations than I was having. Although I don’t think goo goo ga ga qualifies as meaningful or a conversation.

I missed working my regular 7-8 hour days. I missed being creative. I missed setting and achieving big, audacious goals. I tried to work whenever the baby was sleeping (which was hardly ever). But I just couldn’t focus. My art wasn’t flowing. I was exhausted, had mommy brain and was always watching the clock. Counting down the minutes until the baby woke up from his nap.

And then, the villain of my fairytale appeared out of the shadows. Guilt. Relentless Guilt with his sharp claws digging into my heart. Guilt made me feel like a bad mother and wife. Guilt made me feel disgusting for wanting to spend more time working than with my baby. Guilt made me feel shameful for not loving and enjoying every moment I had with my newborn. Guilt made me feel like a horrible human being.

I started to spiral. Looking back now, I know I had a postpartum. But I didn’t realize it then. I just thought this is what motherhood is. None of the moms I knew talked about this stuff. And I felt ashamed that I was having these feelings. I put on a make-believe bright and happy face for the world. I was only posting the picture-perfect moments on social media. I was telling people that being a mom was so fun and fulfilling. But behind all the make-believe, I was having mental breakdowns and dreaming of running away.

I loved my baby, but I didn’t feel like myself. I missed my old life. I have always been a high achiever, setting out to be the best in everything I do. My career and art were such a huge part of who I was. I felt like I was losing all the parts of myself that I admired and loved. I didn’t feel like I was the best mom, wife or artist. I felt like an absolute failure.

Being a children’s book author and illustrator, I set out to inspire children and children inspire me. But motherhood left me uninspired. It was only when I confronted my guilt, that the darkness started to lift. I realized that in order for me to be a good mom and be the person I was meant to be, I had to work. My job sparked a twinkle in my eyes and lit purpose in my heart. It wasn’t motherhood that made me feel uninspired. It was too much guilt and too little of what sparked a light in me.

Just because I was now a mom, didn’t mean I was any less of an artist, a goal-oriented high achiever, a complete fantasy nerd, a big goofball and most importantly, my own person. All those things helped me be a better mom and being a mom helped me be a better person.

RELATED: The Real Reason Motherhood Is So Hard

Holly Hatam is the illustrator of the #1 New York Times bestselling Dear Girl and Dear Boy, as well as Unicorns Are Real, Made by Maxine, and Jack (Not Jackie). She loves hugging trees, drinking tea, sniffing books, music, animations and most importantly, unicorns. She invites you to be transported into her magical world by visiting hollyhatam.com.  

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Morning Coffee with a Side of Mom Guilt

By Jamie Edelbrock

I woke up this Sunday morning experiencing the all-too-common feeling of mom guilt. If you’re a mom, you know exactly what I’m talking about. It is a feeling many moms experience regularly, but it consumed me this particular morning. Despite the fact that my coffee was already brewing, and I had a lot to do, I remained in bed pulling the covers over my head, stuck in my own head, feeling tremendous amounts of mom guilt. I couldn’t help but think of a Sunday morning one fall when my kids were younger.

Like every Sunday morning, we were hurriedly making sure everyone was fed and dressed in their “Sunday best.” Despite our best efforts, we arrived a little late but walked into church with smiles on our faces. Before going into the service, my three kids and I climbed up the mauve-colored steps to drop them off in their Sunday school classrooms. I wasn’t sure what the sermon was going to be that day. To be honest, I’m not sure I cared; I was just looking forward to being in a room with adults for an hour. My hopes of being in an adult-only room quickly faded when my oldest daughter refused to go into her classroom. The teachers repeatedly tried to entice her into the colorful room full of interactive toys while catchy music played in the background. It didn’t matter what creative technique or bribe they used to get her to enter the room; she didn’t want to go.

I knew that if I forced her into the classroom, she would cry for the entire hour, and I would be called out of the sermon to come to pick her up. Either that or I wouldn’t be able to pay attention to the message because I would be so worried about her. That’s when voices from how I was raised filled my head.

“She’s manipulating you.”

“Don’t let her win.”

“Use tough love.”

“This will be good for her.”

“Be strong!”

At that moment, I felt guilty regardless of my choice. According to advice from the generation that raised me, if I let her come with me, that meant she would be getting her way. However, my heartstrings ached because I knew she was going through separation anxiety, and she wanted me close. At that moment, there was a mom guilt battle going on inside of me.

This wasn’t the only time I’ve been in the middle of a mom guilt battle. Other times haunt me as well. Like when we were late for grade school every day for two straight weeks. I will never forget the look on the secretary’s face each time we’d walk in late to the office. Her disappointing and judgmental look filled me with mom guilt after tough mornings.

Or what about the numerous times I’ve lost my cool, or let my kids have too much screen time because I needed a break, or walked away from my crying child because I was about to break down too? What about serving them yet another frozen pizza for dinner after they’ve already consumed way too many goldfish crackers? What about that one time when I decided to homeschool my kids, only to return to public school three years later. Or how about one of my biggest guilts—my heart sinks every time I think about all the times we’ve moved and uprooted the kids.

Ugh. Discouragement filled my heart just thinking about these moments. Then my mind went to what others thought. I knew that my mom and grandmother wouldn’t approve of some of my choices and the secretary’s look kept haunting me. Then I thought of my friends that were seemingly perfect moms. Oof, if I continued with that train of thought, I’d never get out of bed. That’s when I snapped back to reality and pulled the covers off. I got up and poured myself a cup of coffee that I had been smelling for the past several minutes. I was hoping it would snap me out of my “mom guilt” mood.

As coffee touched my lips and I looked out the kitchen window to the yard, I was reminded of the outcome and takeaways of the stories I was thinking about.

I knew leaving my daughter in a classroom, be it school or elsewhere, was an inevitable part of her growing up and that there were healthy ways to deal with separation anxiety. However, on that particular Sunday morning, my mom intuition kicked in, and I decided to keep my daughter with me. I remembered that we grabbed a donut at the church café, and I listened to the sermon in the hallway. Though my choice was frowned upon by some fellow churchgoers, I don’t regret that moment. Why? To this day, my daughter remembers how good those donuts were. My takeaway? My relationship with my daughter was far more important than any class.

As far as the disapproving look from the secretary? After a few stressful mornings of yelling, rushing, and tears, I realized I would rather be late and calm than on time and stressed. So that was my excuse every time we were late after that. The secretary would ask, “What is the reason why you are late today?” I’d reply, “Just another tough morning, and we would rather be late and calm than on time and stressed.” My takeaway? My children’s mental health was far too important to worry about being late to school.

Parents, if you’re feeling the same way this morning, grab your morning coffee and remember that your child was made for you. You know your child better than anyone else on this planet. So be you, trust your gut, and be proud of your parenting choices. Give yourself grace, and do not worry about what others think or say. Focus on the positive and learn from the mistakes. Take it from this coffee-loving, imperfect mother of 15 years and know it’ll all be okay.

RELATED: Ditch the Mom Guilt & Take a Day Off

This post originally appeared on www.jamieedelbrock.com.

Jamie is married to her high school sweetheart and has three beautiful daughters. Through years of experience working with children, and raising her own, she knows how difficult parenting can be. She is an advocate for children's mental health and is best known for her creativity, optimism, and kind heart.

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Making Motherhood & My Dream Career a Reality

By Michelle Major

Michelle Major

photo via Michelle Major

Once upon a time, there was a girl who dreamed of living near the mountains. Spoiler alert: That girl was me, and although I spent the first twenty-one years of my life in Ohio, mountains always called to me. After graduating college, I pointed my car west, found a job on a dude ranch in southern Colorado and set about making my dreams come true.

I didn’t expect those dreams to include becoming a romance author—at that point in my life I couldn’t even see far enough ahead in my future to believe I might be lucky enough to have kids and a family of my own. Then I met my future husband on a blind date, another Ohio transplant. I wasn’t exactly a spring chicken (at least that’s what my mother-in-law told me) so shortly after the wedding, I got pregnant. At the same time I discovered the romance genre and was immediately hooked on the stories of hope and heart (along with all those hot heroes). I figured that becoming an author would be the perfect career for a mom. My sweet babies would sleep through the night and nap on a schedule and give me plenty of time to perfect my craft.

For several years, I was lucky to have time to brush my teeth. Writing was done in fits and spurts during early morning sessions before the kids woke up. This doesn’t include the summer my son woke every day before five a.m. and we resorted to nailing black garbage bags to the outside of his windows every night just to grab an extra few morning minutes.

But here’s the thing—the more I struggled with rejections from editors and agents plus skin-shredding critiques from a pile of contest entries—the more committed I became to making my dream of being a published author a reality. Finally, when my younger daughter started kindergarten, I gave myself an ultimatum: get a book contract or go out and find another job. I’ve always worked. I like working. Being a mom was the hardest job I’ve ever had, but I wanted something for myself. Writing is it for me. And during winter break her kindergarten year, I received the amazing call from an agent who wanted to represent me. Shortly after, she sold my first book to Harlequin.

From there, life became a balancing act. The great thing about being an author is the flexibility to work when you want and where you want. The other thing about being an author is that it’s often a more than full time job. Books to write, to edit, social media, promotions, research, reader events—all the things. All the things I love but what I love even more is being available when my kids need me. That has been the great gift of writing and the reason I’m so committed to getting up at five every morning and carrying my laptop with me everywhere I go. I can’t count the number of words I’ve written at swim meets, in carpool lines, lacrosse games, volleyball tournaments (I’m currently sitting in the high school parking lot waiting for practice to end). I make it work, but there have been sacrifices. Hello, cute wardrobe for the social life I used to have, I’m looking at you.

My son leaves for college this fall, and one of the gifts of this wild year has been being home with him. Yes, I’m home tapping furiously while he and my daughter are in class. And sometimes it’s not easy to write a hot love session when the sounds of a group of kids wreaking havoc in the kitchen is my background music, but writing has given me the best of both worlds. Plus my kids have seen me do something for myself—they’ve watched the high points and the low points but they know their mom works hard for happiness. So to any other moms or dads out there who have a dream but worry about how it will affect your kids, I’m here to tell you that you can make it work. You can have your dream and you can be a parent and both you and your kids will be better for it. Even if it takes years to get there. And if you need someone to believe in you, I’m that person. Just know that I’m here to believe in you until you can believe in yourself.

Michelle Major is the USA Today bestselling author of over forty sexy and sweet contemporary romances. She loves second-chances love stories, smart heroines and strong heroes. A Midwesterner at heart, she’s made the Rocky Mountains her home for nearly half her life and is thrilled to share her books with readers.

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First Came Love, Marriage & Then a Transplant

By Melissa Christopher

My husband and I were married on July 2, 2011 in Red Bank, New Jersey. A few months after being married, I found out that I would need a kidney transplant. While this was somewhat of a surprise, it wasn’t something that hadn’t crossed my mind. My Mom was diagnosed with Medullary Cystic Kidney Disease when I was in middle school. She eventually went on to need a kidney transplant. At the time, my Dad was not a match to donate to my Mom, so she went on the UNOS waiting list. Several months of dialysis, she then received a call that there was a kidney for her. My Mom is by far the strongest woman I know. Seeing her strength is what helped me to get through my own transplant.

My symptoms of high blood pressure and rapid elevated kidney function were not the same as my mom’s kidney disease, I had, what our nephrologist  called, “Chronic kidney disease.” We then began our trek in January 2012 to getting listed on the UNOS lists at one hospital per state. My Mom, my Dad, my husband and I would make the drive together where they tried to make me laugh and make light of the long car rides. It was at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania where I was getting over 30 vials of blood drawn to prepare for what was ahead when my husband said he wanted to be my donor. We had never even talked about him being a donor. I was shocked and honored that my husband of only a few months was willing to sacrifice his own life to save mine. That was not something that I had never expected of him. I always envisioned waiting like my Mom had done for a kidney from the UNOS list.

A month later, I was driving to work when I received a call from one of the transplant coordinators that my husband was in fact a candidate to be my donor.  After all of the tears poured down my face, I was parked in the parking lot of my school and I looked up to find the most beautiful rainbow right in front of me. I knew at that moment that this wasn’t by chance, this was fate. I called my husband to tell him the news and we both breathed a sigh of relief. After many trips from New Jersey to Pennsylvania, we decided that the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania was going to be the place we had our kidney transplant. This was the same hospital with the same team of doctors that my Mom had when she had her transplant. When the doctors all remembered her and her transplant, we knew we weren’t just a number and that we are in good hands.

The morning of our transplants, almost one year after getting married, my Dad, my Mom and my sister came to pick up my husband and me to take us to the hospital. My husband’s parents followed us. It was hard knowing our lives were about to change forever. My husband was called in first to be prepped and have surgery first. I remember going in to see him before his surgery and just sobbing that if he wanted to back out, it was OK and that we could just go home and I would wait for a kidney. He told me no, and that he was doing this for me and for our family. He tried to make me laugh with the silly hairnet he was wearing, but I couldn’t help but cry. My husband was about to sacrifice his life and it was all for me. That is the kind of love that every girl dreams of, but just not quite like this.

As I sat in the waiting room with my Mom on one side and my mother-in-law on the other side of me staring at the screen with updates on where my husband was, those minutes felt like an eternity. They both kept telling me to stop looking at the screen and that everything was going to be fine. Well, they were right. When I went in for surgery, all I asked was to see my husband as soon as it was over. I wanted to make sure he was OK. I woke up in the recovery room and my Mom was standing over me and holding my hand. I asked to see my husband and sure enough, they wheeled my bed over to his where he was awake and waiting to go to his room. I was so relieved to see him and so happy that we were both OK.

The next morning when I woke up, I was on a mission to see my husband. They had put us on opposite sides of the floor so we would get up and go see each other. My mom pushed my IV cart as we slowly walked over to his room. When I got to the doorway, he said “Oh man, you’re up and walking already?” It made me laugh and that was when I felt the pain of the transplant. We joke that he made me laugh so hard it hurt. We spent our first wedding anniversary recovering from our transplant. My husband’s kidney is the greatest gift I will ever receive. He gave me a second chance at life and for that, I will be eternally grateful. He is not only my husband, but he is my best friend, my soul mate (by every definition of the word), and the father to our beautiful son.

 

feature image Fernanda Nuso via Unsplash

Melissa Christopher
Tinybeans Voices Contributor

My name is Melissa. I am a mom to an incredible 5 year old boy. My husband, my son, and I live in the same town that I grew up in. In those 5 years of being a mom, I have learned a lot about myself and can't wait to share it with you. 

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The Hard Truth about Working at Home with a Baby

By Betty Boiron

Photo: Photo via Depositphotos

I was one of the lucky moms who got to work from home. I got to contribute financially to my family, and at the same time spend precious time with my baby. A dream come true, right? Well, it was much harder than it sounds. What most people don’t understand, is that working from home meant my baby controlled my schedule.

The other day, I had a conference call at 9:30 a.m. for 30 minutes. Perfect! That was just in time for my daughter’s first nap, so I could take the conference call without her cooing in the background. I woke up that morning confident that I could tire her out in time for the call and that I could give everyone my undivided attention during the meeting.

Here were the events that pursued:

9:20 AM: I received a text from my manager that the meeting was delayed 15 minutes. Okay, not the end of the world. My daughter was already sleepy so I was in the process of putting her down for her nap, but perhaps she could still sleep through the whole meeting. 45-minute naps are not unheard of, right?

9:43 AM: Another text. They needed another 10 minutes. All right, no worries.

9:55 AM: Yet another text. The meeting was delayed to 10:15 a.m. Most likely Zoe would be awake by then, but that’s okay. She might be playing and cooing in the background during the call, but my coworkers were pretty used to hearing baby noises by now.

10:15 AM: The meeting finally started, but surprisingly, my daughter had not woken up yet. I anxiously looked at the baby monitor like it was a ticking bomb, hoping that she would by miracle sleep another 30 minutes. But 5 minutes into the meeting, she woke up screaming like someone was about to take her hostage. I put myself on mute, threw the phone on the ground, and ran to grab her. With my baby still in a bad mood and howling in my ear, I sprinted back to get my phone and tried to listen to my coworkers as much as I could.

Man did my daughter wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I tried distracting her with different toys, laying her down on the ground, walking her around the room…nope, she was not having it. I strained to hear my call and prayed that nobody would need me or ask me a question. Taking myself off mute would be a horrible idea right now.

However, I knew that I would have to speak eventually. There were topics on the agenda that needed my input, so my plan of action was to get my baby to be quiet immediately. I whipped out the magical boobs…or at least, they were magical when my son was an infant. It didn’t matter what was bothering him, as soon as I popped him on my breast, the world was a better place.

My daughter, unfortunately, does not share the same sentiments toward my milk jugs. I tried nursing her, and she just seemed to get angrier. Panicking, I started walking around the room again with her while trying to nurse her at the same time.

Wait, there was hope! She finally latched on and seemed to have quieted down for a few seconds!

Luckily, I was able to speak a few sentences while frantically pacing around the room feeding my daughter. Just as I spoke my last words, I could feel my let-down reflex happening, so I quickly pressed the mute button again just as my daughter pulled off my breast, angrier than ever.

For those of you who do not breastfeed, let-down is essentially when you turn on the faucet and the milk really starts to flow. Unfortunately for my daughter, my let-down was quite forceful, so instead of a faucet, think of the Hoover Dam opening its gates and all the water flowing out. My daughter quickly pulled off so she wouldn’t choke on my milk, which left my boob uncovered, shooting milk everywhere. I was holding my baby with both arms and had the phone wedged between my ear and my shoulder, so there was no way to somehow pull up my bra.

Just when this was all happening, our dog walked into the room. She got sprayed in the face by my breast milk and she got excited thinking I was playing with her. She chased me around the room, jumping and licking at my breast milk as it sprinkled the carpet, the sofa, everything. My coworkers, clueless about what was happening, continued their deep discussion, and all I could do was listen and try to remember what was being discussed as much as I could over my daughter’s cries.

I was sweating as if I had run a marathon, and my arms were burning from holding my baby for the past 20 minutes. Finally, my let-down stopped and my dog calmed down (though she continued to lick the carpet whenever she found a spot with milk on it). 

At least, there was peace and quiet. My daughter popped back on my boob and started nursing again, and I could sit down on the sofa and relax. I turned my attention back to the call and I heard, “Okay good call everyone, let’s get back together again after lunch.”

Seriously?

Betty Boiron is a mother of two who strives to inspire other moms to embrace motherhood as the hot mess it is. When she is not busy chasing after her kids or digging herself out of piles of laundry, you can find her writing on her blog Mombrite.

 

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Kellan & Brittany Lutz Welcome Baby Girl

by Erica Loop

Twilight star Kellan Lutz and wife Brittany recently announced the birth of their baby girl! The new parents posted sweet pics on Instagram last Friday, with a special message about their daughter.

Lutz and his wife welcomed Ashtyn Lilly Lutz on Feb. 22, after a long road to parenthood. Last year the pair had a devastating loss—six months along into Brittany’s pregnancy.

In February of 2020, Brittany wrote a candid IG post about the loss, her supportive husband, and the medical staff and blood donors who saved her life, “I’m not ready to talk about what happened, and I’m not sure I ever will. But I can say I am SO grateful for the most amazing husband who’s been by my side the entire time. I have the best most supportive family. The prayers from friends have meant everything. My incredible doctor and the amazing team at UCLA Medical Center who kept me alive are the real MVPs. And to all of you who donate blood- I have never been more grateful for you. Without you people like me wouldn’t be here. ”

Just over one year later, Brittany welcomed baby Ashtyn, posting, “The day she came into the world it was snowing, raining, and freezing, but that night she was born and we woke up to sun, clear skies, and winter melting away. It was so symbolic considering this time last year was literally winter for our souls only to be met one year later with the brightest sunshine. She ushered in a new season for us and we love her beyond comprehension.”

Congrats go out to the happy couple on the birth of their daughter!

—Erica Loop

Featured photo: Alex Millauer / Shutterstock.com

 

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My New Forever

By Amanda DeLuca

This morning I thought about forever, as we woke up before the sun, and hurried to get ready to go find trains. You see, this is what we do. I watched my son flap with delight as we pulled into the train park while I drink coffee and we wait for the first engine to pull through.

When you first find out you’re going to become a parent you think about raising a child, hugging them through their first heartbreak, sending them off to college, and watching them get married and start a family of their own.

And then, in our case, autism changed the way in which we were going to navigate parenthood.

I’m not saying he won’t ever do any of the “typical” things, but I’m also saying we aren’t promised he will either.

The day you find out you’re not just a parent but now you’re a special needs parent, the thought of forever is too much to comprehend. It was for me anyway, and I started a to-do list in my head that I thought would make things temporary instead of forever.

I kept thinking if I can just get him to sleep through the night, then if I can just get him to speak, potty train, feed himself, now it’s dress himself and make a friend……. my point is it isn’t short-term, it’s forever. I’m not saying that to be negative, I’m just more realistic now.

That doesn’t mean there isn’t joy to be found every single day, or that his life has any less value, but it does mean this journey shifted after diagnosis.

I couldn’t believe the moms who were talking about forever care for their kids. They’ve given up I thought. No, they were just further along in the process than I was.

I couldn’t bear to think about forever then, I could barely think of what would happen between now and his next birthday. I just needed to get through today.

I understand the situation is ever-evolving and the to-do list changes as time goes on, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy. And saying it’s heavy doesn’t mean I’m angry about it, or that I’ve given up. It means I’m further along in my journey now.

Lunch at 11 a.m. every day, overnight trips to find trains, hunting for yellow sandwiches and brownie batter hummus, always waking up before 6 a.m. The things I’ve learned that will be here for the long haul and are not just a phase.

It’s ok, I’m just ready for forever now, it’s heavy, but I’m ready

This post originally appeared on Jackson's Journey Jackson's Voice.

Amanda is a mom of two and lives in Ohio. Her son is on the autism spectrum and is who inspired her to begin her journey through advocacy. In her free time she enjoys teaching dance , hosting the MommingAutism podcast, and writing for her page Jackson’s Journey, Jackson’s Voice.

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