• the one about letting it go

    This will be the 5th Halloween I have experienced as a mama, and the anxiety I feel each year to think of “the perfect costume” for my children borders on…well, ridiculous.

    Right around this time in September, I begin scouring Pinterest for clever, ironic, funny, or just plain cute ways to dress my children up to go beg the neighbors for candy they won’t really ever get to eat. 
    It was easier when Noelle was younger. She would wear whatever I asked her to wear, and I didn’t have another child to try and “pair” her with. When Charlotte came along, I had visions of perfectly matched and “theme-y” Halloween costumes, like Dorothy and Toto or Cookies and Milk or this…

    Last year, Noelle told me she wanted to be Ariel. I began to labor over her costume, buying tulle to craft into a tail and a red wig. I wanted to make Charlotte a charming mini-Ursula. A week before Halloween, Noelle decided she didn’t want to be Ariel, so she ended up wearing a cut up pink t-shirt and bandana, proclaiming herself to be Izzy, the girl pirate on Jake and the Neverland Pirates. Charlotte was a cat.

    “We will do better next year,” I thought.

    I recently asked Noelle what she would like to be for Halloween this year. Imagine my horror when she said, “Anna from Frozen!”

    My mind immediately flashed to 300 other little girls wearing the same costume around the neighborhood. I love Frozen, too, but I was hoping we could go the more creative-kitschy route.

    “Really? Anna?”

    “YES! I can’t wait to dress up like her for Halloween!” She was so excited.

    I knew from last year’s experience not to assume that she wouldn’t change her mind…so I held onto some hope that the next time I asked, she would have a different answer.

    I have since asked her the same question at least a half a dozen times, and she has remained constant.

    ANNA IT IS.

    Well, if my child wants to be one of a billion Annas on Halloween, I will at least make sure her costume is one of a kind.

    So I started searching online for patterns and sales and coupons to fabric stores. I was going to make her the prettiest Anna costume there ever was….

    …until I slapped myself upside my own head.

    Seriously, Ashley? You are 32 weeks into a high risk pregnancy. The baby could come at any point, and the last thing you need to be doing is slaving away over an Anna costume for love of everything holy. With your luck, the thing will be still in pieces on the floor when your water breaks all over it, and you’ll ruin the dress AND your child’s Halloween FOREVER!

    So, I re-routed and found this very nice replica for less money than the fabric would have been had I made it myself.

    JCPenney Anna Costume

    This beauty will be at our door in a few days, and I won’t have to worry about working my fingers to the bone on a costume she may eventually refuse to put on the night of Halloween.

    Halloween shouldn’t be about competing with other parents to see who put the most time and energy into a costume. It should simply be about letting kids have a little bit of fun while they dress up as something special…and then eating all their candy after they go to bed.

    You might assume Charlotte is going as Olaf or Sven or Elsa to complete the “theme.”

    Nope.

    She will be a ladybug. A store-bought-with-a-coupon ladybug.

    They may be the only Anna-Ladybug pair out there, and that’s as original as it’s gonna get this year.

  • the one about the hospital bag

    Oh. Em. Gee.

    I am a hot mess.

    One day, I’m all “Yeah, my life has taken a turn toward Suckville but I’m ownin’ it and taking it in stride.”

    The next day (or minute, or hour), I’m crying into my pillow, blathering on about how everything is so unfair and my hair is ugly.

    Most days, I try to stay somewhere in between of those two extremes, but…hormones.

    So, my point is that I have been wanting to get back to blogging like the good ol’ days, which I will lovingly refer to as P.C. (pre-cervix). These A.C. (after cervix) days have been downright depressing, and I’m sorry.

    This blog is called Heart of the Mama for a reason, and this mama’s heart has been all over the place for the past several weeks. I wish I could say my moodiness will only get better from here, but ((laughs hysterically)).

    So for now, I’m in a good spot, so I am going to do a whole post that doesn’t even mention my shrinking, bitchy cervix! There…I said cervix for the last time this post! All done with cervix talk (sowwy).

    Since I am now 31 weeks pregnant (WAHOO!), I do have my hospital bag packed and ready to go. My best friend had a baby a few months ago, and I harped on her for weeks prior to her delivery to get her bag packed because at any of her regular OB appointments, they could say, “Well, we need to send you over to Labor and Delivery,” and I knew she’d want to be prepared.

    Did she listen to the seasoned Veteran mother friend? Nope. She did not.

    And she was sent over to L&D unexpectedly, a few weeks shy of her due date, with nothing packed in her bag. Her husband was left to do the dirty work, and although I am sure he did the best he could…let’s just say that husbands have horrible ideas when it comes to choosing things for their wives to wear.

    I’m thinking if I left it up to Luke to pack my hospital bag for me, he would probably throw in some athletic socks, a semi-formal dress (that fit 2 babies ago), a pair of his basketball shorts, and a strapless bra.

    There’s no way I was going to risk that happening, so a couple weeks ago, I started gathering items that I thought were necessary.

    There may be some things on my list that you don’t feel are necessary, and that is A-OK with me. I’m just giving advice based on my experiences with my past two deliveries.

    I have a rather large travel bag that I like to use, and it is plenty large enough for my things, my husband’s things, and a couple little items for our baby. If you don’t have a bag large enough, feel free to divide the items up appropriately. I just like to have as few things to keep track of as possible…i.e. I don’t even carry a purse.

    My List of Hospital Bag Essentials

    1. Travel toiletries. These are important because, well, the hospital ain’t the Ritz Carlton. They don’t have wax paper-wrapped soaps and spa samples in the tub. Bring your own stuff so that the first shower feels extra nice. I recommend the travel size toiletries so that you aren’t lugging so many large bottles in your bag, and so that if when you leave them at the hospital, it isn’t a big deal. Buy an extra toothbrush and toothpaste for you and your husband so you have it in your bag and ready to go.

    2. Slippers or flip flops. I kind of hate wearing socks, and walking around barefoot in a hospital room is probably not the best idea, so slippers or flip flops would be very helpful.

    3. Clothing. I truly believe you should feel as good as you can following the birth of your child. You will no doubt have tons of visitors, and I always felt so much better when I was out of my hospital gown and in something I could, you know, stand up in without people seeing my butt. I recommend bringing 1-2 pairs of stretchy, black yoga pants or leggings, 1-2 nursing tank tops or loose-fitting shirts, and a light weight wrap sweater/robe that goes long enough to cover your rear-end (more on that later).

    I think the yoga pants/leggings are self-explainatory. You want things that are stretchy and comfortable. I hate to break it to you, but you will most likely still look very pregnant immediately following childbirth. Those kinds of “I lost all of my baby weight instantly” miracles only happen in Hollywood and that small corner of your Facebook for your “friends” you secretly hate.

    Nursing tank tops are great, but if you aren’t comfortable in those, I would look into those long, drapey, loose t-shirts. I emphasize loose and drapey because, if you are breast feeding, you need to be able to easily nurse a baby without having to hike your shirt up over your head. If you read my childbirth post, you already know that someone very well could open your shirt and slip your baby inside through the neck hole, so a loose-neck shirt will allow this to happen easily.

    I also emphasize long because you want something to cover your butt. You will basically be wearing a diaper following childbirth comprised of a puppy training pad, an ice pack, and medicated gauze out the wazoo (literally). This amount of bulk is quite obvious from the back, and it can make you feel a bit uncomfortable when you get up to walk around if everyone can stare at it. A long shirt will help this to be less obvious.

    This is also where the light weight wrap, sweater or robe can help. Not only does this help to cover you up a little more, but it also covers the junk in the trunk.

    You will want to bring a nursing bra, or at least a sports bra, if you’re not going to wear the nursing tank tops.

    You do not need to bring your own underwear. Really. I had a girl in my childbirth class ask if she “had” to wear the sexy mesh underwear they give you following childbirth. The nurse leading the class laughed in her face and basically said that if she insisted on wearing her own underwear, to go ahead and try, but that it is better if you just give in and wear the mesh boy shorts. Don’t be one of those people. You’re not better than the rest of us. Mesh underwear for life for the win!

    4. Nursing supplies. If you have a breast pump already, I recommend bringing it so you can learn how to use it and get help from a nurse if you’re a little intimidated. They have pumps at the hospital, but bringing the one you will use at home is nice. You can just keep it in your car and then if you decide you’d like to have it brought in so you can use it, it’s there.

    Also, do not forget the nipple cream. You laugh now, but you will need it, and sending your hubby out to buy nipple cream is probably a bad idea. Who knows what kind of store he will end up in.

    I am not a huge fan of the flamboyant nursing covers, but I love the Aden + Anais large muslin blankets because they double as a swaddle blanket and a nursing cover. Either way, I would bring something to cover you while nursing, especially if you’re a first-time mom and you are worried about being exposed. Remember, lots of people will be in and out at all hours, and I always like to have a blanket there in case I am nursing and someone drops in to say hi.

    5. Make-up and hair items. You don’t have to dress up for Prom, but I am a make-up wearer, and after I was able to take a shower, I felt so much better with a little make-up on. With people taking pictures and coming to visit, I wanted to feel good about myself. Just mascara and lipgloss helped a bunch. The same goes for hair items– I didn’t bring a bunch of stuff, but I at least had a headband and a few bobby pins to get my hair back and mildly presentable. If you don’t think this will be important to you, that is totally fine! (but don’t get pissed later when you say, “Why didn’t anyone TELL me my hair looked like that!?”)

    6. Technology and entertainment items. If you’re staying 2-3 days in the hospital, it will get a little boring from time to time. I woke up the next day after my 2nd daughter was born and was ready to go Target. We ended up signing out early because I was itching to get back into civilization. Whether you stay the full time or not, you will probably want some sort of light entertainment like a book, magazine, iPad, or a laptop. Make sure you have all the chargers for your phones and other electronics! Maybe your hospital room will be fancy and you can bring DVDs. I would definitely check first.

    When we had Charlotte, the Mother-Baby recovery rooms were all full, so we were placed on the pediatrics floor. When we asked about movies (they only had VHS), they gave us a list of what they had on the floor. Let’s just say that our options were any Disney movie created prior to 1998. So….we wished we at least had our iPad. Or pencils to stick in our eyes.

    Also, don’t forget your camera (charged and ready with a memory card)! So many women groan at this thought because they can’t fathom taking pictures right after (or even during) childbirth, but this is like a wedding. You can’t redo it. Even your 2nd, 3rd, or 4th childbirths will not feel like your first. Take pictures, please! Even if you don’t show them to anyone– please take pictures of you with your baby, your husband with your baby, the three of you together. You don’t want to regret this later.

    7. Snacks for after childbirth. You can’t eat during labor. This sucks. So bring a couple of treats you can eat in your room after the birth. I had my 2nd child at 9:30 p.m. There wasn’t any food being delivered at that hour, and I was awake nearly all night while we waited to be put in a recovery room and doing those initial feedings. I was hungry! So, snacks are good! But if your husband tries to eat while you’re in labor can’t eat, so help me, God…!

    If you don’t have snacks, at least bring a couple of bucks worth of change for vending machines.

    8. Husband clothes & toiletries. Remember that guy? He will need at least 1-2 changes of clothes, too. Hopefully he can use some of your same toiletries so you don’t have to bring too much stuff with you. I never wanted my husband to leave me while at the hospital, even if it was just to run home and shower or change clothes, so bringing this along helps to avoid that if at all possible.

    9. Childbirth aides. If you are planning to use some sort of a back massager or special therapeutic birthing rock that emits natural pain medication and/or vagina healing powers, make sure you bring that.

    10. 1-2 outfits for baby. They have basic onesies at the hospital, but if you want your baby to be in his/her own clothes from the get-go, make sure you bring some along– but don’t go crazy. You’re not there for very long. A lot of people bring special going home outfits. I love the long-sleeve newborn gowns. The long sleeves fold over to make mittens to keep him/her from scratching the face, and the gowns are handy because you don’t have to mess with snaps in the middle of the night.

    If you’re having a girl, a cute little hat or bow is fun, but keep in mind that lot of the time, the baby’s head is way too small to wear those and the bow can take over her head! Check for headbands/hats that are made specifically for newborn babies.

    11. Swaddle blanket. The hospital will give you the universal hospital baby blanket, but I don’t think you’re supposed to take those home, and they aren’t that cute. Bring a cute swaddle blanket or the one you have chosen to be the baby’s blanket.

    12. Pacifier. Our hospital is pretty strict on pacifiers and won’t give them out, so if you want your baby to take one or at least try to take one, bring your own just in case. I’m going to bring a couple extra this time to sell on the black market to the moms who forgot to bring one.

    13. Items for siblings. If you have older children who will be visiting, you may want to throw in a couple of coloring books/crayons, a few of their favorite books, the cool Big Sister shirt you bought on Etsy, or a game you can play together. These items may be best to placed in a separate bag and left with whoever is caring for your kids while you are in the hospital…but either way, make sure you think about them and their needs!

    You do not need to bring diapers or wipes! The hospital will take care of these for you, and enjoy the freebies while they last. You also don’t need to bring bath items for the baby. They will have all that stuff there for you to use (and take home).

    Now, my pregnancy has been particularly stressful, so I plan to sneak in a few items such as booze, lots of donuts (for when the diabeetus goes away), and I may even take up smoking cigarettes (just kidding…lighten up a little).

    I’m hoping I won’t need my bag for at least another 4-5 weeks, but at least I’m prepared if something crazy happens. And why would I think anything crazy would happen in this pregnancy? Oh wait…

  • the one about small potatoes

    I have gestational diabetes (pronounced diabeeeeetus).

    And a shortened cervix.

    And threatened preterm labor.

    And I am on modified bed rest.

    And, unfortunately, I was involved in a car accident yesterday, which means that I also have a beautiful black minivan with a lot of damage done to it.

    And a shoulder with air bag abrasions.

    And a forearm with bruises from the steering wheel.

    I feel like I have been hit by a bus. Which is funny (kind of, not really) because I really was hit by a bus.

    Yes, the girls were with me.

    Yes, they are OK.

    Yes, after an ultrasound and blood tests and several hours of monitoring, Baby Shiloh is OK.

    Yes, I am OK.

    Yes, this is the longest pregnancy in the history of all pregnancies.

    But I am not here to talk about the accident. I am trying to erase it from my mind completely. I am not here to talk about my short cervix or bed rest.

    I am here to talk about how much I love food…especially potatoes. By looking at me, you can tell I have never met a potato I didn’t like. Loaded, baked, fried, julienned, sliced, diced, crispy, fluffy, mashed, creamy, chunky, in soup, or shredded. I. Luh. Potatoes.

    However, because I have the sweet blood, my potato intake has had to substantially lower. In fact, I haven’t had a potato of any kind in an entire week since I started monitoring my blood sugar.

    You’re impressed I haven’t killed anyone. I can tell.

    It’s not that you can’t have potatoes when you have gestational diabetes/diabeetus, but the portion size has to be so small that, to me, it isn’t worth it to eat them at all. I have no self control, so I cannot be expected to eat only half a small order of french fries or exactly 14 potato chips or whatever the ridiculous serving size is.

    It is simply easier and better if I don’t attempt to eat potatoes at all.

    When I met with the nutritionist last week, she happily explained to me that I could have a 4″ baked potato.

    I didn’t know 4″ baked potatoes existed. The ones I buy at the store have got to be at least 7-8″ long. So, of course, I would have to cut it in half and act like I was so satisfied with that, most likely eating it with a baby fork so as to make it lost longer. Not worth it.

    Suffice it to say that food has been on my mind constantly. I have been fantasizing about the meal I would have upon Shiloh’s delivery. I have obsessively looked up nutrition information for all of my favorite restaurants to see what I could get away with eating. I have found blogs and sites devoted to low-carb copycat recipes for things like desserts and Starbucks drinks…because my regular drink at Starbucks contains more carbs than I am allowed in my entire dinner. So there’s that.

    I have thrown quite the pity party for myself…gotten jealous of the pictures people post of their food on Facebook (which is a problem in and of itself), cried when I couldn’t just eat what I was craving at the moment, and wanted to strangle Luke when he returned home from a birthday party and went on and on and on about how good the food was.

    Clearly, I need therapy. Or wine. But since I am pregnant and have diabeetus, wine is out.

    Before about 1 p.m. yesterday, I thought my life was over because of food.

    But to think that my daughters, my unborn child, or I could have been seriously hurt as a result of that accident yesterday…it’s truly (yet another) lesson in perspective.

    I told Luke this morning that I feel this pregnancy has been one giant test. A test of my strength. A test of my faith. A test of my sanity. A test of my priorities. A test of my willpower. In all of these areas, I have struggled throughout my life. I’ve made mountains out of mole hills. I’ve turned away from my faith instead of toward it. I’ve given in and given up too many times to count.

    But this pregnancy isn’t letting me give up…and after each hurdle I have had to jump, I have learned something new about myself.

    Yesterday, I learned that there is so much more to life than sugary, carby food. I will get through the dietary restrictions and soon enough, I will have a blissful reunion with carbs.

    Of course, I have always known this. But now I will never forget it.

    Family. Safety. Health.

    Everything else is small potatoes.

  • the one about when it rains

    It is certainly crazy how quickly things can change.

    A little over 2 weeks ago, I was returning home from a trip to Nashville with my female in-laws. My husband had just treated to me to an amazing night at a Sara Bareilles concert in Cincinnati. I had just consumed the most incredible pork BBQ sandwich I had ever tasted.

    I had no idea I would soon be dealing with advanced cervical shortening, threatened preterm labor, modified bed rest, and now gestational diabetes. Yep…the results are in. Failed.

    I had no idea that my calendar would soon be filled with weekly ultrasounds, weekly non-stress tests, and now meetings with a nutritionist and diabetes educator.

    I cancelled over ten photo sessions and won’t be teaching my preschool class until January.

    I, the mother who resigned from her full-time position to stay home with her children, have had to take them to daycare everyday because I cannot keep up with their needs, wants, and demands when I am home alone with them.

    I have experienced the guilt of “taking it easy” and “getting off my feet” because it feels completely unnatural to not be interacting with my children in the ways I am used to…to not be cooking every meal (or any meal)…to not be running from point A to point B to back to point A and so on and so forth.

    My head has been spinning, and I would be lying if I said I was taking it all in stride. I have broken down. I have cried puddles of tears. I have lost my temper out of frustration. I have questioned why this was happening as if surely someone else was more deserving of this situation than me.

    But I think there comes a point when you just get tired of feeling sorry for yourself. It feels gross and like a massive waste of time and energy. And right now, I can’t afford to waste neither time nor energy.

    There’s a popular saying, “When it rains, it pours.” My, haven’t I felt the meaning of those words lately.

    But I also know that when it rains, all kinds of good things happen.

    Like…the grass turns greener.

    Flowers can grow.

    And the ground softens.

    We get free car washes.

    I love the smell of rain.

    And who doesn’t love the sound as it hits the rooftop and windows?

    We have been completely overwhelmed by the generosity of our friends and family throughout this ordeal. From encouraging Facebook comments and messages to texts and phone calls…and meal deliveries and taking our girls out so that they could have some fun and I could get some rest…and the prayers. It has all been a tremendous blessing born from a pretty miserable and frightening situation.

    Each passing day is a victory. Each passing week is a triumph.

    And sometimes, each passing hour calls for a celebration.

    But I am OK.

    Bring on the rain.

  • the one about when it’s complicated

    I’m sorry. If I sound a little bitter, it could be because my cervix is still being a little shit and is now HALF a centimeter long, AND I found out that I failed my one-hour glucose test (which I passed in my prior two pregnancies) so I now have another date with the nasty diabeetus drink and a three-hour stay in the hospital lab’s waiting room. The joy. 

    You know how on Facebook, you can change your Relationship Status to say, “It’s Complicated?”

    Maybe ol’ Mark Zuckerberg could add a line to say Pregnancy Status, and you could choose from a few options:

    It’s Awesome

    It Sucks, but I’m Just a Whiner

    It’s Complicated

    I just want to tell everyone who asks me how I am doing, how I am feeling, when I am due, how far along I am, etc, etc, etc…It’s Complicated.

    And believe me, I know that “complicated” doesn’t mean horrible. I know that it could be worse…it could always be worse. I know that “complicated” doesn’t mean the end of the world. I know that I have to take things one day at a time, but ifIhearIhavetotakethingsonedayatatimeagainIwillscreambecausedon’twealreadyknowthatdaysonlycomeoneatatimeanyway?

    What complicated does mean is that I don’t have a straight-forward answer for how I am feeling. I am all the feels. In the span of 15 minutes, I feel fine, stressed, frustrated, sad, peaceful, hopeful, and pissed off. But I am sure you don’t want to hear about all that, so I will just tell you it’s complicated.

    Complicated means fighting every possible urge to be jealous of every seemingly smooth and flawless pregnancy you see in your News Feed. I have almost quit on Facebook 3,472 times over the past 10 days, but then I realized I wouldn’t have anything to keep me company during the day whilst on the bed  of rest. For real life friends that I actually care about, I’m certainly happy your pregnancies are going well, but I can’t help but be sad and do the whole Nancy Kerrigan “WHY me? WHY?” thing. Repeatedly.

    Speaking of that, complicated is lonely. And the worst part is that people are actually trying to help me and going out of their way to let me know I am not alone, but the days feel empty and hollow and lonely anyway. It’s difficult to explain and thus, complicated. When you are the person who thrives on the socialization that even especially Target provides, being stuck inside your house for an entire day feels extremely isolating and torturous.

    Complicated is the excitement of bringing a new baby into the world mixed with the fear of having her too early. I have been dragging my feet on getting anything ready because it feels like that would be encouraging her to come early.

    Complicated is the desire for more children but realizing that the risk of getting pregnant again and chancing this same scenario feels selfish and dangerous. It is hard not to jump to that conclusion at this point, but I would never knowingly put another unborn child at risk of being born prematurely, nor would I want to cause such an inconvenience for my family if I were to become sidelined again. It’s a lot to think about, and, unfortunately, I have a lot of time to think.

    Believe me, I know I have complained more in the above paragraphs than a man with the sniffles, which makes me want to punch myself (which is also complicated). So the one thing I will say that has been a positive of this entire situation is I am in awe of the generosity and sweetness of our friends and family. From watching our children to bringing us meals to just listening quietly while I leak verbal diarrhea by the cup-full…we truly have a great support system.

    But at the end of the day, this pregnancy is still complicated. My feelings are complicated.

    And my cervix is an asshole…which is really, really complicated.