Do The Hard Things.

Tonight, my oldest child walked into my bedroom after I got out of the shower. He nonchalantly told me he was glad that he heard me singing in there again. He told me he’s missed it. I asked him what he meant and he said, “I always know you’re really happy when you play music and sing so loud.”

Gut check.

I didn’t even realize I stopped. I mean, I knew that the extra effort to connect the speaker and pick a few songs hasn’t felt necessary lately. Mostly because I usually hold my exhausted body up by leaning against the shower wall at 10pm just long enough to wash my hair and ass before crawling into bed for a few hours of restless sleep.

I really can’t remember the last time I sang in there.

I have spent the last few years, specifically the last year, consumed by deconstructing every single thing I’ve ever known to be true. My religion. My sexuality. My relationships. I’ve always done what I thought was expected of me and then I ended up having to fix the brokenness that came in the aftermath of not meeting those expectations.

Those expectations were bullshit. Glennon Doyle said, “when a woman finally learns that pleasing the world is impossible, she becomes free to learn how to please herself.” And when I read those words, it was like a switch flipped. I stopped caring about making everyone else happy and focused on my own happiness.

I decided just to stop giving a fuck about what people expect from me.

In the last month, I “came out” on social media and immediately felt the effects. I worked at a preschool in a church that preaches loving people where they are, but sends pastors to “come alongside you” while you try to pray your gay away. I quit my job there, even though it meant having to leave kids and their families who have become like my own. The next morning I woke up with this overwhelming sense of relief that I wasn’t expecting but that simultaneously brought contentment and broke my heart.

I felt free to finally be authentically myself for the first time in my entire life.

And you know what? The God that I believe in created me to be this person and still loves me unconditionally.

Just a year ago, some of the words spoken to me in the last month would have absolutely broken me. Instead, I’ve found so much happiness.

So basically, what I’m saying is that Glennon was right. Don’t be afraid to do the hard things. Quit the job. Date the human that makes you happy. Be authentically yourself. Choose the joy.

when depression steals your joy.

I used to sing in the shower. Obnoxiously. Like, cow dying-from-labor-mixed-with-squealing-pig obnoxiously. Whether I was happy or sad. Whether I was angry or indifferent. Whether I had something to look forward to or it was just another Tuesday.

I stopped singing in the shower.

That was probably the first sign that I ignored when depression took over my life. The first of many. I stopped writing. I lost myself. I lost my happiness. I lost the first year (plus some) of my child’s life. I lost my motivation. I lost my joy. I lost me.

joy.jpg

I struggled to nurse. I struggled to sleep even when he would. I cried. All.The.Time. Over nothing. I went through the stages but I lived in denial. This was not happening to me again. And it definitely wasn’t WORSE than last time.

It started with the constant tears. Soon after, the feelings of inadequacy began. I felt like I wasn’t worthy of being a mother to these two beautiful little humans. I convinced myself that my family would be better off without me and often caught myself daydreaming about what would happen if I just ran my car into a ditch one day. I hated myself. I sank into this darkness that I just couldn’t escape. It took every ounce of willpower in my body to get out of the bed most days. Taking a shower became a chore. I felt like I couldn’t do anything right. The anxiety kicked in and with it, rage. I felt like I could be standing directly beside someone, screaming at the top of my lungs but no one could hear my screams. And this infuriated me. I over analyzed every detail of every thing, and anxiety attacks became a part of my daily routine.

Yet, through feeling all of these things, I still felt completely numb.

I became such an angry person. I was angry with myself for sucking as a mom. I was angry at my friends and family for not seeing how I was so clearly inwardly screaming for help. I was pissed when I would open up only to have someone tell me to keep my feelings to myself, for fear of seeming “crazy.” I was furious when someone told me to just “be happy” like it was that easy. I saw nothing but red when someone would tell me to just get over it.

One day, the rage got the best of me and I essentially collapsed on the living room floor, bewildered by my own levels of anger. I finally asked for help.

To the mom who is still knee or even neck deep in this mess, it will come back. It being the joy, the giddiness, and the confidence in being you. It WILL come back. Happiness will seep back in, slowly, and with it pieces of what makes you, you.

You will get there. Soon you will feel human again. You’ll laugh without forcing it to hide the sadness. You’ll smile, not because you’re hiding the pain, but because you have joy. This season is just that, a season. And it is going to pass.

I still battle daily with my anxiety. I have to convince myself to leave the house with my kids. I have to pep talk myself into going to work. Anything beyond the basics? I still pass most of the time while I navigate my way through the rest of this phase. But tonight? Tonight, I sang in the shower. Joyfully, and obnoxiously. 

 

 

I Suck at Being a Mom.

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You know how in the movies, after the woman gives birth, and everyone is smiley and happy and joyous all the time? Yeah? I get it. Ideally, that’s how it should be. Everyone is happy. Everyone is smiling. Spouses don’t fight. Babies don’t cry. Older kids don’t get jealous.

Sometimes it’s not.

Sometimes, the baby cries nonstop for no reason. Sometimes, the spouses are at their wit’s end with exhaustion and take it out on each other. Sometimes, smiling takes too much of the ounce of energy you have left that day, and it’s not worth it to waste it. Sometimes, the older children turn into little jerks thanks to jealousy stemming from no longer being the center of attention.

Sometimes it sucks.

Please don’t get me wrong. I love both of my boys more than anything. I thank God everyday that I get to be their Mommy. I would not change a single thing.

When Aiden was about 4-5 months old, he didn’t sleep. He started having awful reflux issues that caused him to violently puke 90% of what he ate at each feeding. I was basically caring for him on my own, exhausted, frustrated, and to top it all off, I was in a horrible relationship with an apathetic partner. I constantly felt like I wasn’t good enough. That Aiden wouldn’t love me. That I wasn’t cut out to be a Mommy.

I started eating my feelings and I cried myself to sleep more often than not. I remember thinking, ‘how could something so little, that I love so much, make me so miserable.’

It wasn’t until just before Aiden turned six months old that I realized that I needed to talk to someone. Things were super rough. My ex and I fought endlessly and I felt isolated and overwhelmed 100% of the time.

I was diagnosed with postpartum depression.

Fast forward four years. I’m older and more prepared/less overwhelmed over the needs of an infant. Asher is here and about two months old. Aiden’s almost five and ready to start school. Hubs is working in a different city during the week. Our marriage is great, but we rarely have time together. He’s not home, not because he doesn’t want to be here, but because he’s working his bum off to provide for our family. Totally different dynamic.

But I started feeling those first signs of PPD again almost as soon as the last visiting relative walked out the front door. Crying over nothing. Overwhelmed. Insecure. Started eating my feelings. [I swear I’m the only person in the world who gains more weight AFTER having a baby than she does while pregnant.] Getting frustrated when Drew would come home and mess with our routine on the weekends. Getting even more frustrated when he would leave for work again when the weekend ended.

I began feeling inadequate. Like I wasn’t good enough to be these boys’ mommy. Like I wasn’t good enough to be a decent wife to Drew. Overwhelmed by the neverending dishes and laundry and feedings and laundry and cleaning and did I mention laundry? I tried to hide it from Drew for weeks, thinking that he already had enough on his plate and shouldn’t be worried about me.

A couple of weeks ago, he came home to find me completely disheveled, unshowered and still in my PJs with my hair and face a hot mess, crying, and holding Asher as he nursed. Asher had a long day with no sleep the night before, and Aiden is in this phase right now where he wants to challenge everything I say to him. I’m tired. I’m frustrated. I’m overwhelmed. I looked up and word vomited, “I have PPD again.” at him. He said, ” I know, let’s get you taken care of.”

Turns out, he already suspected I was struggling. I assume he didn’t know how to approach me about it, in case he was wrong and I was actually just crazy. We talked about making sure I had some time to myself more often, and working through it together.

So now, my boys are at home having some QT with Daddy while I sit in this Starbucks and reach out to any other moms who might be struggling with the same.

To the mom who feels overwhelmed, it gets easier.

To the mom who feels inadequate, you are enough.

To the mom who hasn’t showered in 3 or more days, your kids don’t care if you stink.

To the mom who swears she’s failing her kids, I’m willing to bet their world revolves around you.

To the mom who thinks she can’t keep up, the housework will wait. babies don’t keep.

To the mom who doesn’t want to admit she’s struggling, asking for help doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re strong enough to know when you can’t do it alone.

To the mom who believes she can’t handle being a mom AND a wife, let your Husband love you.

To the mom who feels isolated, you are not alone.

To the mom who knows she sucks at being a mom, don’t let your brain tell you a lie that your heart knows isn’t true.

Being Just Aiden’s Mommy

momIn a few days, my time being a mommy of one will end. Asher will be making his debut, and Aiden will go from being an only child to one of two.

The other night, I came across videos of two-year-old Aiden on the iPad. Naturally, (read: stupidly) I watched them. Then it suddenly hit me that my BABY wouldn’t be THE baby much longer, and then I cried for an hour while eating my pineapple.

For over four and a half years, it’s been all about Aiden. I have spoiled him, praised him, and loved him in every way possible. When it was just Aiden and me, he was the center of my universe. He still is, but now shares that space with my Husband.

Now I have this third beautiful baby boy joining our little family, and I can’t wait, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t also terrified. How in the heck am I going to love another little boy as much as I love Aiden?

Everyone keeps saying, “your heart just makes room,” or “you have nothing to worry about.”

I can’t help but still worry.

I’m scared that Aiden will think he’s being replaced, or that Mommy doesn’t have time for him anymore. I’m scared that he will resent his brother for getting the attention when it’s been all about him for so long. I remember my “baby blues” turned full blown PPD with Aiden, and I’m terrified it’ll happen again.

But my biggest fear is balancing my time, energy, and love between both of my children. I’ve had a newborn before, and I remember how stressful and exhausting it was. Trying to wrap my head around doing that again with an almost five-year-old in tow seems next to impossible. Until recently, and only because of my lack of comfort, I haven’t really gotten annoyed with being pregnant. Realistically, I know he will eventually be coming out. But honestly, the anxiety about having two children is greater than actually giving birth.

Thank God I have an amazing Husband in my corner this time.

Things we’ve done to try and prepare Aiden for brotherhood:

  • Let him have an active role in getting baby things ready. (I let him go through all of his old baby clothes with me, let him go through the baby toys, let him pick out nursery details, etc.)
  • Talked to him about how he will be such a great helper for Mommy once Dad goes back to work. (He even says he will change peepee dipes, just not the others.)
  • Kept his schedule as consistent as possible, despite snow days trying to ruin it.
  • Taken him on numerous Mommy-Aiden dates and “Mantime” with Dad over the last few weeks, but made sure to talk up how soon we can bring brother on our dates too.

And a f.ew other little details. Hopefully they work.

 

I have loved being just Aiden’s mommy for the last five years. In my heart, I know that once Asher is in my arms instead of in my ribs, I will be so overwhelmed with love and I’ll have what I didn’t even know what was missing in the first place. I can’t wait for that moment

A Mom’s Thoughts While Grocery Shopping

Yesterday, I took my four-year-old and a one-year-old to the grocery store. I normally save these trips for weekends or evenings when my Husband is home and I can go kid-free. This time, pregnancy cravings forced me to go on a mad hunt for a cocktail shrimp ring and cinnamon toast crunch midday. This despite a max of four hours of sleep the night before due to pelvic pressure and round ligament pain from the apparent dinosaur baby residing in my uterus. This is my story:

Grocery cart

Not a single parking place, this is a great sign. How badly do I want that cereal? Badly enough. OOH THERE’S ONE. BEAT THE OTHER GUY. #WINNING.

MOMMYYYYY WE HAVE TO GO INSIDE AND FIND A BIG BUGGY! 

That’s cool, I’ll just turbo waddle through the parking lot, heavy baby on my hip, maternity pants sliding down awkwardly, and holding the four-year-old’s hand all while simultaneously praying that he doesn’t let go and that this store is out of the Cadillac-esque buggies. YES! THEY ARE OUT! THERE IS A GOD!

Looks like they are out of the big buggies, Bubba. (cue whine commencement.) Oh darn, now how am I going to make my three-display-destruction-per-trip quota.

MOMMY LOOK!

Oh, THANK YOU SO MUCH (other Mom exiting store) for giving us yours. I sincerely hope your kids force you to listen to a Yo Gabba Gabba soundtrack the whole way home.

Okay, get in, get what I came for, get out….OMG CHRISTMAS STUFF IS UP….NO. Focus.

Mommyyyyyyy, can we go look at the Christmas stuff?? Absolutely, after I get a few other things! Well, at least I can blame him now.

Oooh, there are the shrimp rings. Yes! I wonder how many people are judging me? Let me just poke out my belly a little extra, then they will understand. Well, at least the women.

Okay…cereal aisle…cinnamon toast crunch, get in mah belly. No, Bubba we don’t need Lucky Charms…Yes, Mommy is getting cereal…we don’t need more than one kind today…Because, the baby wants it…Fine, just put them in the buggy. Why does he always have such valid points? He’s four.

Ooh, we need milk, and cheese sticks, and yogurt, and why did I come here hungry? Where’s the wine aisle? Oh yeah, pregnant. Grape juice it is.

Let’s just go look at the Christmas things now. Oooh the crafty things! Don’t even go there, Taylor. You’ll never get out of here. Okay, how do I get there without passing the toy aisle…

TOYSSSSSS MOMMY WE HAVE TO LOOK SO I CAN WRITE MY LETTER TO SANTA TODAY. 

Crap.

I want that one. Okay. And that one. Okay. And this one too. We’ll see. I’ll just ask Santa. You go right ahead.

I just want to get to the Christmas section already. 

Okay, Mommy. Let’s just go look at Christmas stuff now! Did he just hear me think that?

Push that button, Mommy! (cue obnoxiously loud version of a moose singing Jingle Bells.) People are starting to stare. One-year-old is starting to fidget. Even she’s embarrassed at how loud that dang moose is.

Push that button too, Mommy! Pleaseeee!! Last one, Bubba. (cue obnoxiously loud snowman version of Winter Wonderland.) Seriously? Now I remember why I don’t buy these things. 

Okay, Bubba. Let’s go. BUT WHY? Because the baby is crushing Mommy’s pelvis when she walks. WHAT’S A PELVIS? Mommy’s buttbone. He’s crushing Mommy’s buttbone. I’ll regret that one later. 

Okay, find a check out line. We’re almost out. Can I have skittles? No, you don’t need skittles. Can I have tic-tacs? No, you don’t need tic-tacs. Remind me to thank Nini again for getting him hooked on those. Why are you so mean, Mommy? I know, mean, mean Mommy trying to keep your teeth from rotting out. What was I thinking? Crap, now who is he talking to now? Why doesn’t he understand stranger-danger?

…and my name is Batman and I’m four years old. My mommy has a baby in her tummy and he’s a boy and his name will be ‘Ass-er Charies.’ He will come out of Mommy’s bellybutton but right now he’s crushing her buttbone. She told me so. That’s why we’re leaving. Oh, and because I probably have to go poop soon because my farts smell like tacos.

Oh. My. God.

Okay, Bubba. Now that you’ve told the man way more than he ever needs to know, let’s go.

Okay! You can call my Mommy and talk about it some more! Her number is 9…OKAY, AIDEN. LET’S GO.

BUT MOMMY HOW IS MY NEW FRIEND GOING TO CALL ME…..(cue Mommy waving goodbye at the poor, unsuspecting man who just wanted to buy his trashbags and beer in peace and running out the door.)

I am never coming here again. Ever. Husband is doing all the grocery shopping from now on. I’m done. All I have to do is get these kiddos buckled in and it’s home for naptime. 

No, we’re not going to McDonald’s. No, we’re not going to Chick-fil-a. No, we’re not going to Subway.

WELL WHAT AM I GOING TO EAT?

Lucky Charms. PB&J when we get home.

THAT DOES NOT SOUND YUMMY! Everyone comfy and ready? 

Aaaaaand, I forgot the milk.

Click here to follow me on instagram for daily posts on life with Aiden & his soon arriving brother, “Ass-er.” 🙂

A Letter to my Pre-Mom Self

letterIt’s okay.

I know you’re terrified. It’s okay to be scared. Your life is about to change more than you can imagine.

I know you’re in the midst of trying to decipher the difference between all of those diapers, and the bottles, and the pacifiers, and I won’t even mention the pumps. But, guess what?

They don’t matter.

I know that you think you don’t know a single thing about raising children. But who really does? Relax. You, like all other mommies, are going to figure it out as you go along. You’ll be fine.

Don’t worry so much about your birth plan. Things in childbirth rarely go as planned. Just plan to do whatever it takes to bring that sweet boy (yes, it’s a boy!) into the world safely.

Recovering from your cesarean is going to suck. Physically and emotionally. Take it easy while you recover physically, and accept help when it’s offered. Emotionally will take longer. Just know that you are not a failure. You made the safest choice for your little boy, and that matters so much more than the method he used to enter this world.

Your boobs are going to hurt. Like, imagine the pain comparisons you’ve read in one of the ten baby books you own, and then multiply it tenfold. Breastfeeding is hard. Again, accept the help when it’s offered and ask for help when you need it instead of trying to figure it out yourself.

Don’t expect to sleep for a while. Even if he does, you’ll be too busy staring at him, in amazement at this life you created, and you’ll constantly be checking to make sure he’s breathing. Showers will also be few and far between. Don’t fret, you’ll be too exhausted to go out into public anyway.

When you bring him home, don’t be alarmed when you become so overwhelmed with love that you just cry. This doesn’t go away. Before you know it, you’ll be preparing yourself to send him off to kindergarten. So enjoy the seasons as they come.

Know that you will be different. Your mind, YOUR BODY, your everything. You will transform from selfish to selfless, constantly putting this other life before yours, before you even realize what happens. Your body will never be the same. Your stretch marks will fade eventually, your boobs will go back down to their “normal” size, but you will notice that your feet and fingers are a little fatter than they were before. And your behind will stay a little more round than you remember. Embrace your new body. It did the job God intended for it to do.

Your relationships will be different. Some friends will stick by you. Some will fade into the background. You’ll probably feel alone from time-to-time. Get out and make some friends who are at the same stage in life as you. You can’t expect those not in your shoes to understand what your life is like now.

Your house will never be clean. Well, it might for the first five minutes after you finish tidying and then sit down. Then your boy will wake up from his nap, your Husband will come home from work, dinner will need to be made, and someone will spill something, somewhere. Don’t let it drive you crazy. Life happens.

You will quickly realize that you don’t know why in the world you ever stressed over bottles and diapers. This mom-thing will come so naturally to you that you’ll wonder why you ever worried. You’ll quickly realize that before you had your sweet baby, there was always some piece of the puzzle that was missing and you just had no idea. Now, your heart and home will feel complete.

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How am I Already Eighteen Weeks?

IMG_1585-2 6How far along? Eighteen weeks.

Are you showing? Absolutely.

Gender: BOY!

Total weight gain: Don’t want to talk about it… (+3/4). But my maternity jeans are two sizes smaller than the jeans I wore last year! 🙂

Maternity clothes: Oh yes. Hair tie trick no longer working.

Stretch marks: Just the pre-existing ones. But my lower belly is starting to get itchy. Coconut oil, for the win!

Sleeping: Rough. 

Food Cravings: MILK. And anything with grapes. Especially grape juice. 

Anything making you sick or queasy? Meat. Asher is clearly a vegetarian. 

Miss Anything? Energy, Sleep, Wine, and Sushi. 

Movement: Stronger flutters and wiggles! And a few actual kicks!

Labor signs: Nope! But a ton of pressure sometimes. 

Symptoms: Light stretching/cramps, pure exhaustion, soooooo emotional, and the horrible acne of a teenager. Oh, and heartburn.

Belly Button in or out: Still in, but weird and bumpy-ish around the top left side. Not going to hold on very long. 

Wedding rings on or off: On

Happy or moody: All of the above.

Best moments this week: Learning the gender! Can’t wait to meet my newest sweet boy!

Looking forward to: Registering and moving into our new place so I can begin my nesting!

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Seventeen Weeks (And an October-Announcement!)

17weeksHow far along? Seventeen weeks, one day!

Are you showing? Absolutely.

Gender: We’ll find out tomorrow!!

Total weight gain: Up a little over a pound from where I started!  

Maternity clothes: Oh yes. Hair tie trick no longer working very well.   

Stretch marks: Just the pre-existing ones. But my lower belly is starting to get itchy. Coconut oil, for the win!

Sleeping: So-so.

Food Cravings: MILK. And anything with grapes. Especially grape juice. 

Anything making you sick or queasy? Very few things and very far between!

Miss Anything? Energy, Sleep, Wine, and Sushi. 

Movement: Stronger flutters and wiggles! 

Labor signs: Nope!

Symptoms: Light stretching/cramps, pure exhaustion, soooooo emotional, and the horrible acne of a teenager. Oh, and heartburn has arrived with a vengeance.  

Belly Button in or out: Still in, but weird and bumpy-ish around the top left side. Not going to hold on very long. 

Wedding rings on or off: On

Happy or moody: All of the above.

Best moments this week: Feeling flutters more often!

Looking forward to: Gender scan tomorrow!! Can’t wait to see if we’re having a girl or another sweet boy! 

Click here to follow me on instagram and be the first to know!

Remember to go here and take the gender poll before tomorrow!

OCTOBER ANNOUNCEMENT!

Since I’ve gained about 1,800 wordpress followers alone since my last ‘getting to know you’ post, I’m going to spend the month of October answering your questions! Comment below any questions you may have for me. (Parenting styles, discipline, schooling methods, birth plans, ANYTHING!) You can also email your questions to me at natmblog@gmail.com 🙂 Looking forward to hearing from all of you!

Also, early next month I will be hosting a guest series related to pregnancy and childbirth. (I know you’re shocked!) If you’re interested in submitting a post, email me at natmblog@gmail.com!

Popped! (16 Weeks)

16How far along? Sixteen weeks!

Are you showing? Absolutely.IMG_5022

Gender: We’ll find out in nine days!! 🙂

Total weight gain: I have gained 0.4lbs. I’ll take it. 

Maternity clothes: Oh yes.  

Stretch marks: Just the pre-existing ones. But my lower belly is starting to get itchy. Coconut oil, for the win!

Sleeping: So-so.

Food Cravings: MILK. And chocolate! 

Anything making you sick or queasy? Mostly gone! (Knock on wood.)

Miss Anything? Energy, Sleep, Wine, and Sushi. 

Movement: More frequent flutters and a few actual jabs. Which are more like strong pokes at this point. Jellybean started jabbing at the laptop as I typed this!

Labor signs: Nope!

Symptoms: Light stretching/cramps, pure exhaustion, emotional, and the acne of a teenager. Oh, and heartburn has arrived with a vengeance.  

Belly Button in or out: Still in, but weird and bumpy-ish. I don’t think it’ll hold on very long this time around.

Wedding rings on or off: On

Happy or moody: Happy for the most part! But also emotional. 

Best moments this week: Feeling flutters more often! Seeing a healthy growing bean on the ultrasound!

Looking forward to: More energy. It’s starting to pick up finally!

We had an ultrasound this week while testing a new doctor, and Hubby swears he sees boy-parts. I don’t see any parts, boy or girl. Remember that episode of Friends when Rachel and Ross have their ultrasound? Remember Rachel’s reaction? Yep. 1 2I couldn’t even tell you for sure if that’s a butt shot. That’s how bad I am at deciphering this mess.

Our actual gender scan is NEXT FRIDAY! WHOOP. Be sure to follow me on instagram to know whether Jellybean is a he or a she before anyone else! 🙂

 

Oh, Hey Second Trimester! (13 Weeks)

IMG_1585-2 3SECOND TRIMESTER! WHOOP. I feel like this pregnancy is flying and crawling at the same time. We find out the gender in four weeks, and after that it can just slooooooow down.

Also, I’m pretty sure my belly got bigger overnight last night. Maybe not, but I’m going to pretend it did to make myself feel better. At least I’m looking more pregnant, and less like I’ve eaten too many bags of cheetos. (Which I would never do, obviously…)

How far along? Thirteen weeks!

Are you showing? Yep. Not really hiding it anymore.

Gender: We’ll find out the first week of October! Drew and Aiden want a girl, I would like a girl since we obviously already have a boy, but I’ll be happy with healthy!

Total weight gain: Gained another pound back! Sitting at -3 for the moment. I’ll take it. I was +10 by this point with Aiden.  

Maternity clothes: Oh yes. I was determined to wear my favorite shorts last night one more time, and I had to use the hair-tie and belly band trick.   

Stretch marks: Just the pre-existing ones.

Sleeping: So-so. But tired alllllll the time.

Food Cravings: Tomatoes, cheese, & cheerwine. Which DOES have caffeine in it. FYI. I learned that this week.   

Anything making you sick or queasy? It’s finally easing up! Still have moments of nausea, but haven’t actually puked in a few weeks. (Knock on wood.)

Miss Anything? Energy, Sleep, Wine, and Sushi. 

Movement: Flutters and wiggles! 

Labor signs: Nope!

Symptoms: Light stretching/cramps, pure exhaustion, slight nausea, soooooo emotional, and the acne of a teenager.

Belly Button in or out: Still in!

Wedding rings on or off: On

Happy or moody: Happy for the most part! But very easily brought to tears by absolutely nothing. Unless you count dropping Aiden off at pre-k. He was fine, I was a hot mess. Blame the hormones. 

Best moments this week: Feeling flutters more often!

Looking forward to: That second trimester burst of energy. It can come any day now. Really… any time would be great….?

Here’s your bumpdate! Go look at my instagram and compare it to yesterday’s photo and tell me if you think I look rounder today. 

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