Hi. Remember us? Miss us? We’re back! And we have some important things to catch up on. I haven’t probably introduced most of you to the newest member of the clan. Sweet Eleanor Jean. So much like her big sister. And nothing like her all at the same time. Stay tuned. Because there are some issues weighing very heavily on my heart lately, that I feel the need to share!
Sit back and enjoy the ride.
Super cute moment at Great-Grandma & Great-Papa’s house yesterday! She said “MOM!!!! Night.” And proceeded to pretend to sleep!
I woke up this morning and read an article that got my blood boiling. The entirety of the article that you can read here basically sums up to a mother being asked to cover at the homeless shelter she was living in. She responds with her legal rights. And the IHS employee threatens to refuse service to her. The mother states she feels discriminated against and controlled. This is wrong. On so many levels.
IHS released this statement:
“IHS really does take the health and safety of our guests and our staff seriously and we really wanted to just jump on it,” said Connie Mitchell, the IHS executive director. “This is an opportunity for us to learn more and to really share with the community that we are about being proactive and about being helpful to our community as well.”
I’m glad they’re getting a head start to tackle the issue. It makes me wonder how many times this has happened before.
What do you think about this situation?
So I’m having issues deciding the name for this cutie. Any ideas? And yes. This one is my pet shitchin. Don’t judge.
Let me know your name suggestions!!!
I read. I researched. I was a sponge for information while pregnant. And I still am, even now, eight months post partum. Despite all of my research, I still had this crazy idea…that my newborn baby would sleep in her own room, her own bed. Yeah. No. Didn’t happen. Obviously. And so our family bed was born. In the beginning, sex was the farthest thing from my mind. But four weeks after giving birth to my daughter my sex drive was back in full force. But our bed was no longer our own. It took me awhile to get back in the swing of things. Sex is a beautiful thing. It is difficult at times to switch off mommy mode, and go into sexy wife mode. For us we are impulsive. We are spontaneous. We have sex on the stairs. The couch. The floor. We also have sex in our bed. Once our daughter is zonked for the night, she is moved over to the farthest corner, and we have sex in our own bed. For us cosleeping has somewhat spiced up the relationship. We don’t use the bedroom exclusively for sex anymore. We have a bed. And that bed is for love. It is for sex. It is for sleep. We go to bed as a family. Wake up as a family and to me, that is a beautiful thing. Having children will make your life completely different. Ours is richer. Full of laughs. Full of love. It is important to retain your sense of individuality. Sex is a part of this. I am a mother. A wife. And sex is important to me. It is important to the connection I feel with my husband. I crave that physical attachment. It was an adjustment, a huge one. We committed to this parenting style. And with it comes challenges. But for us, we do not allow sex to be one of them.
Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on. Whether that is a physical shoulder, or metaphorical one. Some of us seek support via social media. Some are social butterflies, like me. I yearn for connection. That’s been one of my biggest struggles since giving birth. I don’t know where the mom in me ends, and the new me begins. I suppose that’s all part of this journey. I have learned that support is relative. I need support in all areas. Family. Friends. Strangers. My husband. I have spent so long being someone else’s support system it’s time I begin to seek support myself. Thank god for therapy. Thank god for social media. Thank god for my friends. Thank god for my family. Thank god for my husband. Life is hard. It sucks. And sometimes I can’t see the light at the end if the tunnel. But I lay my head down every night. Snuggled up to my sweet daughter, I kiss her cheeks, I whisper I love you. I turn around, and have my wonderful lump of a man, one whom I can’t fathom living day to day life without. And I realize, no matter how horrible today may seem. There is always tomorrow.
I don’t think I realized how hard it would be not to fall victim to ppd. How is it possible to distinguish the difference between baby blues and ppd? It’s almost impossible to do on your own! I’m so glad I had the support around me, and when I realized I was slowly falling down a slippery cliff, they were there to catch me. One day it went from blubbering about eating the last piece of pie. No joke. To realizing colors were dull. To me life was no longer vivid. I was vacant. A shell. I felt as though I were moving in slow motion. Nursing seemed to burden me. I dreaded each time my baby needed nourishment. I was irritable with my husband. Overly so. I snapped at everyone and wallowed in my feelings. I had a rain cloud over my head. I was lucky enough to seek out help. It wasn’t easy. I swallowed my pride. But I did it. I took Zoloft for a few months. I am so glad I did. Now I enjoy being a mother again. I enjoy colors. I enjoy music. And I treasure nursing! So please. If you’re feeling down after having a baby. Don’t wait. Get outside take walks in the sun. Keep yourself busy. And do not hesitate to reach out to a health professional. There is no shame.