A simple text

“I love you S. L. you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”

It’s amazing how much one thoughtful text can take away so much of the resentment and fear.

Maybe we will be okay.

Maybe I am enough.

I know he wants 1 or 2 more kids, and it had me worried that he wouldn’t stay with me if I decided I couldn’t handle going through it all again.

But this small act of showing me love makes me feel like he would choose me, us, our family of 3 over a (potentially) larger family with someone else.

BTW, he never told me that he would leave me for anything, he is not pressuring me at all for more kids when I am clearly not ready, these are just all those stupid thoughts that I put into my own head.

I hope that I get more of these reminders, because I could sure use them.

A simple text.


Seeing someone

A couple of weeks ago I decided to try out the EAP (Employee Advisor Program?) offered by my new employer.

I had my first session with the counselor last week. Before I went, I wondered what I was really going for. I was having a good day, things seemed to be going well, I almost thought of cancelling it. I didn’t. I wasn’t super impressed by the counselor, she is one picked by the EAP, she seemed less professional than the ones I had seen before, maybe it was the home office thing, I don’t know. Or because she wants me to come every week, and didn’t like the idea of my wanting every 2 weeks, and then brought up that we would have to continue with my insurance after the EAP sessions run out. It is probably just me reading into things, but she seemed most interested in her income. But I get 5 or 6 sessions covered by the EAP, so I figure I may as well use them, right?

She told me to keep a journal for random thoughts, so I have done this. My second appointment is today, here are some of my random thoughts:

  1. I feel guilty going once a week because I feel like that is time I am supposed to be spending with my son and husband.
  2. I feel guilty taking any ‘me’ time
  3. I feel guilty even taking ‘us’ time (Me and B)
  4. Everything falls on me. If I want us to go out, I have to make a plan, find a sitter, decide where to go. If I want a family outing, dinner, ANYTHING, I am told “Just tell me what to do” I don’t want it all on me! Everything is on me, I work, get home and start making dinner and play with the boy until DH gets home and I can finish dinner, we all eat, I do the dishes about 85% of the time, we both get DS ready for bed and DH puts him down while I shower, then it is finishing dishes if there are any and going to sleep, because Lord knows the DS wakes me up at least once every night these days!
  5. I hope this is a phase of teething. I feel like he will never sleep through the night again consistently. It has seriously been so long.
  6. I don’t know when to transition to the big bed. I don’t trust him at all, he cannot control himself when he wants to get into something, especially when he knows he isn’t supposed to. Am I doing something wrong?
  7. I have a lot of resentment towards my husband that I didn’t even realize. There is seriously 3 full pages about him fishing or kayaking or helping friends or working on the vehicle or the house while I watch DS.
  8. I feel like as a society Dads still get to be themselves and get the “Dad’ title as a bonus, I feel like Moms turn into just “Mom”
  9. I have completely lost my identity. I feel like I am “Mom” and nothing else. ( I love being a mom and I am so grateful) ThisI have been struggling with huge, I avoided doing a post about it because I feel like all I ever post is negative, but this is honestly an outlet for me (I’m not a very good blogger). But I don’t even know the person I used to be, I don’t travel much because I don’t trust DS to behave enough to not die! I couldn’t even remember when she asked me what I like to do for fun. Because even if and when I would get time, I don’t even know what to do with it, I spend so much time feeling guilty for not being around my son, and guilty for not making better use of my time, that it becomes unenjoyable.
  10. The massive anxiety I have even THINKING about early pregnancy and how to hide it and the pit in my stomach just thinking about having to announce it at some point. I am clearly not ready to have another child.
  11. I had another chemical at 6 weeks a couple of weeks ago, and I feel like the worst person ever, like seriously the worst person and have so much guilt over being okay with it, because I am not okay to deal with that anxiety of things going well again, I know that doesn’t even make sense.
  12. I’m pressuring myself into wanting another child and wanting it soon. I know this, but it doesn’t change the fact that I think about it all of the time.
  13. We are definitely avoiding TTC now. I am obviously not in a place to be okay with it yet. And I don’t know when I will be if ever. But I will not TTC until I can be okay and at least somewhat excited about being pregnant.
  14. I feel like if I get to go out for dinner with a friend that I am ‘using up’ the ‘me’ time I should be allotted (which is weird, because it isn’t like I’m allotted a certain amount or anything…)
  15. Maybe I just like to complain?
  16. DH and I NEED more date nights. Just us, because the very few we have had have been great and they make me so happy, but again, very few. And taking time for us isn’t taking anything away from DS, because we need our relationship to stay strong to set a good example for him.
  17. I hate my house. I hate it so much. For the amount of money we spent on it, I just hate it. I am not comfortable there, It is dated and dark and things seem to be falling apart. And It doesn’t smell like ‘home’ and I don’t know how to change the smell.
  18. I hate the color of my living room, grey and my blue/grey bedroom, I really think the colors make it cold and not at all homey and comforting, but I feel guilty about this because we just painted a year ago and I feel wasteful.
  19. My house has no carpet. I love carpet, I have hardwood, especially when it is throughout the house. It makes everything cold and hard.
  20. We moved the couch and TV in the living room around yesterday, I was hoping this would make me feel more at home. I do like the change, but I almost cried (and almost am now) because it still seems dark and gloomy.
  21. I worry that I can do all of these things to my house and still not feel at home in it.
  22. I miss my old house. Not the smallness and unfinished basement, but it felt like home, we did so much work to it, I was proud of it and couldn’t wait to show it off. I don’t like people coming into my new house.
  23. I realize a big thing I want to do to make me feel like me again: I want to get my house to a state that I enjoy it again. I want to remodel it top to bottom, inside and out. I LOVED home improvement projects before, and still do, though I never seem to have time for them. I really don’t have the time and can’t do things with DS around, and then I get back to the guilt of taking time away from him to do, well, anything.
  24. Working mom guilt is rough.
  25. All mom guilt is rough.

I love my son. So much. I want everything in life to be the best it can be for him. I want to be the best I can be for him. I love my husband. I want our marriage, our home to be the best for all of us.

So much falls on me. And I don’t feel like I am handling it as well as I should. I have so much anxiety over things I can’t control. I really want to learn to just let some things go and focus on the important things. But I don’t know how….yet.

Why it still hurts

Before starting my new job I had met with my new boss and her replacement (M), who would take over shortly after I would start. It turned out that M has a little boy only 6 days older than my boy.

Within the first week or 2 of starting, my boss left for a job at a different site and we had a small celebration where M and I talked. She was talking about how they were thinking of adding to their family. No big surprise, I mean, that is what people do, right?

It turned out that M actually had to stay in her current job for a while longer before taking over and becoming my boss. I would just see her and wave in the hall once in a while, but our paths didn’t cross much.

A few weeks ago I noticed she was wearing a flannel that seemed a bit more baggy than what she would normally wear (she is a pretty slim person). So I had some thoughts about that, though I would obviously never say anything or ask (I’m not a moron, though there are surprisingly a lot of those out there…). Yesterday was her first official day as our new boss. As she stood in front of the meeting room and told us about herself I noticed that she kept pulling her jacket over her and that she had gained some weight, but just in that area. At the end of the discussion she said “And since I’m apparently bad at hiding it, I am expecting my 2nd child” with a big smile on her face. She was showered in ‘congratulations’ as expected.

I smiled and congratulated her as well. I am happy that she didn’t have to go through months or years before conceiving this child that she wanted. But I couldn’t figure out why it hurt me. It stabbed my heart (though I knew it was coming).  It wasn’t as deep as before I had Baby Bach, but it was there. I didn’t want to talk to anyone after, just went right out to my car, picked up my son and went home to cry. I didn’t ugly cry like I used to, but I was just sad.

And I couldn’t figure out why. I have my rainbow. I am not TTC a sibling yet (though I may have allowed a ‘slip-up’ last week). And I am still feeling like I am not sure I want to. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I dissected my feelings for a while until it became clear to me why I was not only upset (and jealous) at this announcement, but why I am struggling to be okay with trying for a sibling:

I was jealous of her excitement. I will never have that in pregnancy. During my pregnancy with my son my anxiety was at an all-time high. I had to seek help from a therapist. Every ultrasound probably put my blood pressure through the roof. I was horrified. And even when the results came back good, I still couldn’t feel at ease. Yes, this one was going better than the rest, but for how long? I kept my pregnancy hidden for so long. It kept me up at night knowing that at some point I would have to tell people, I was mostly nervous to tell my family. I didn’t want to see their excitement, because I didn’t want to have to bring them back down later. I was in the 2nd Tri before I told my family and even my best friend. And I didn’t want to. I was so nervous (I can feel the nerves now just thinking about it). I started by telling my mom not to cry and to stay calm. But I don’t think it was to protect her, it was to protect me. Having to untell her when my first pregnancy failed was awful. She had been so excited. Most people, family and friends, didn’t even know I was pregnant until they got a shower invite, or even until after he was born. I couldn’t even bring myself to acknowledge it, how could I deal with other people knowing it?

I had to take a break from the blog world and the baby site world. I didn’t want to be involved in any of it. I would get seriously angry if people started making a fuss over the baby or my belly or even talked or asked about it.

And then I went on to have Gestational Diabetes, so that sure didn’t help things.

But I didn’t take pictures of my belly. I didn’t do a gender reveal. I didn’t do a pregnancy announcement. All of those things I had once imagined doing before RPL. I just didn’t want a big deal to be made about it. And when I think of getting pregnant again, I start feeling very anxious on how I would hide it form my family, especially now that I live closer and see them more. It is terrifying me to think about. GD aside, my pregnancy wasn’t that bad physically. But mentally it was awful. And just thinking about going through the mental exercise again makes my stomach hurt.

I have been considering seeing a counselor again. I do want my son to have a sibling, but I don’t want to go through the process again. Loss after loss. Then a high anxiety pregnancy at best, that would hopefully end in a living child. And have Gestational Diabetes.

I guess I am realizing just how messed up my mental state is surrounding this right now. I didn’t realize until M made her announcement what was really holding me back. But now that I know it, just maybe I can fix it?


Oh crap…

For the last month or so DH and I have been talking about when to switch to a ‘big boy’ bed. We know that it is recommended for a child to stay in the crib until as close to 3 years old as possible, but we also know that we have a little climber. So the debate has been: “Do we wait until he climbs out and falls? Or nip that in the bud and get a bed before then and allow him to roam his room (which needs a massive re-baby-proof done first)?”

We figured we still had a bit of time until he actually climbed out, so we casually looked around at beds, but we weren’t too serious just yet.


On Saturday I was cutting DH’s hair, and he put Bach (not a baby anymore) in the pack and play to contain him for a few minutes. In under a minute he was straddling the edge of the pack and play. DH caught him. So I guess we are done with the pack and play.

About 20 minutes later I tried to lay Bach down for his much needed nap, after rocking him and fighting him for a bit, I put him in his crib and walked out of his room, grabbed the door handle to my room (directly across the hall) and as I opened it (to DH standing right there) I heard “BOOM!” followed by screaming. Our eyes got huge as we turned around and rushed into his room to find him sitting on the floor crying.

He did it.

My 18 month climbed out of his crib. In a matter of 4 seconds.

He was okay, it seems he must have hit is side/back/butt area. But boy did we freak out for a while hoping that he hadn’t hit his head, and then thanking God when we realized he didn’t.

We were supposed to be on our way to a family party, but we put everything on hold to put the mattress on the floor with the crib around it, and box in the sides where the mattress could still slide under.

So for right now Bach is safe being another 5-6 inches from the top of the rail. But for how long? (FYI, he did not learn his lesson, he tries to climb it as soon as we put him in the modified crib)

But at 18 months, is he really ready to have the freedom to roam his room at night? Even if it is baby-proofed?

Am I ready for that?

When did you all move to a ‘big kid’ bed? How did the transition go?


Not just hard

I knew that being a mom would be hard. There would be sacrifices in all areas of life, and some phases would just be difficult.

And I feel that because of everything I went through to have this child that I wanted so bad, that I’m not allowed to talk about how hard it is.

Yes it is worth it. Yes I love him so much and I am so glad and grateful to have him. Especially when others are still struggling for their miracles (My heart is always with you).

But it IS hard!

And there are feelings that I was not expecting to come with motherhood: Failure. I feel like a failure every. single. day.

When he cries when my mom leaves when I get home from work.

When he doesn’t want to eat and I give in and he eats m&ms for breakfast.

When I try my hardest to get him to sleep at night (books, singing to him, rocking) and I give up after 35 minutes of screaming and let him run out of the room. And then B brings him back in and gets him to sleep in 2 minutes.

When I take him on a family trip to an indoor waterpark I thought he would love, and he has a hard time sleeping away from home.

When I want to go out for dinner with just B… I feel like because I work, I shouldn’t spend anytime away from baby Bach outside of it. (As a result this has only happened 4 times in 1.5 years)

When his iron levels are a little low.

When he falls off of something he climbed up because I looked away for a second and didn’t quite get there in time.

When all he wants to do is be outside and play in the water, but I have to make dinner, or do laundry or a million other things. And when he does get outside, its never for long enough.

When my DH went fishing for 2 hours and I was losing my mind on how to handle this crazy kid on a beach and my body hurt so bad from trying to keep him safe and away from the road and from getting too deep in the lake (All of which resulted in massive fits).

There is massive love for him, and so much gratefulness at having this amazing little person that I never thought I would have. But there is such a feeling of failure too. And it really does get at my self-esteem.

I feel like I can hardly keep one child alive most days, how in the hell could I care for two when I am failing so miserably at one?

Flat out inappropriate

Friday morning I did not feel well upon waking up, went to work, and started getting sick when I came home, which continued into the next couple of days. I thought at first it was food poisoning, but I am leaning towards a stomach bug now… but either way, what a damper on a beautiful holiday weekend.

Over the holiday weekend DH, Baby Bach and I went to a couple of graduation parties. On Saturday I was feeling pretty awful, but we made the 1.5 hour drive (each way) so we could visit DH’s family. It could have been worse. I didn’t want to let anyone know I was sick, because we all know what they would have assumed, and none of them would be shy about saying it. In front of me OR behind my back. For all I know, they probably are saying things because I didn’t drink. Oh well, I didn’t have to deal any of it.

On Sunday, I had volunteered for a shift at work, so I struggled through, but let my other coworker know that I wasn’t feeling well in case I had to leave. Afterwards the family and I went to another graduation party at DH’s friend’s parent’s house. I was finally starting to feel better and able to eat at this point. I wrote about the questions from this party in the last post.

Today it’s back to work.

Every morning we have a quick informal gathering to discuss the plan for the day ahead. There are usually about 10 people there. Usually only 1 of them besides me is a female. Otherwise, it’s just me and all male coworkers. The coworker I worked with on Sunday was there and asked me if I was feeling any better, which I expected. I told him yes, I am finally feeling about back to normal. And then he said “I didn’t even think about it at the time, but I was thinking maybe you are pregnant.” Which he found to be a hilarious comment. As did some of the other guys in the meeting.

I did not.

I told him that I was most certainly not pregnant. And then as he continued to laugh I said “Highly inappropriate” I didn’t want to say it at first, in front of all of these people, especially because I am still new to this company. I don’t want to create tension between my new coworkers. But he just seemed to find it so funny. And others did too. And it wasn’t okay.

It would have been bad enough to say that to me in private. But to say it in front of most of my coworkers, in a meeting, and think that it was a funny comment, was just plain awful. Like I wasn’t already struggling to conceive my first, the idea of having a second, and my new body after this whole journey.

I know if I tell my boss, she will take action. She would find this absolutely appalling. But is that the right course of action? I think it needs to be bigger than that. This isn’t just the issue of 1 person, because people say these things all the time. It is a culture issue, where people think it is okay to ask such private and personal questions.

Some people joke about ‘Sensitivity Training’ but I think that is where we have to start. At least to remind people that these things are so inappropriate. Maybe they really don’t know (though they really should because come on… you are asking about people’s sex life).

That just really wasn’t a great start to my week. It was bad enough that I was sick and couldn’t enjoy my holiday weekend.

I just feel so embarrassed now. Like people are going to start looking for a bump, which I have, but not from a baby, just from food. I was already self conscious about it.

Maybe I am just being paranoid. I don’t know. People are jerks.

Good Intentions…?

On Sunday we went to a graduation party at DH’s friend’s parents’s house. The parents, we will just call them A&J (because typing and reading DH’s Friend’s parents over and over seems ridiculous), are super nice people. They love when we come over and they are just genuinely sweet, caring people. So when the mom, A said to me “You have to have more! Girl, what are you waiting for?” I didn’t know how I should react. This was someone so close to DH that have been so generous to us. And they were throwing this big party with their family and friends, so making a comment back (which would have been not so nice, I’m sure) I felt was out of the question at the time. Her husband J asked me later “When are you having one or two more?” to which I told him my hands and life were perfectly full with our son. And he responded “Well… there is always room for an oops.” Again… in the situation, I could not have responded how my gut wanted to: “Oh really? Is that how easy it is? I can just oops one? Well maybe I should have tried that the first time then! Instead I tried and failed over and over again. Thanks for the advice!” Because we all know that if we stop trying or if we just relax that we get pregnant. Silly me…

I then overheard J asking DH about our family plans. DH isn’t confrontational at all, especially with people he likes, so when J asked if there was another on the way he said ‘No” and then J asked if the plan was for more… DH said “Yup” I was a bit irritated.

I’m not saying we are 100% an only child family. But right now, that is my plan. I can’t even think of more when I have my hands full with a full time job, a house, a husband, an amazing little miracle who loves to be devious, and somehow fit in appointments, betas, phone calls with updates, the emotional and physical aspects of more pregnancy losses. I am actually enjoying having some sanity (ish…) right now. No tracking apps, no opks, no tests and counting down the days and calculating what betas should be and googling what symptoms mean and what are the odds… even though I have already read everything there is in the google-sphere that has ever existed on the subjects.

Yet I am still tearing my mind apart every day on the sibling debate. I got so hard on myself about it. Do I want Baby Bach to have a sibling someday? Sure. Do I want to go through getting pregnant? Staying pregnant? Going through pregnancy with worry every day that my baby won’t make it home? Gestational Diabetes? Getting knocked down by my awful MIL? Not really.

I wonder how much different all of my emotions surrounding this would be had our journey been different. Would I be excited to have more? Would I still be content with 1?Would I have 3 by now…?

I know these people are nice, and I know that they love us and have great intentions, but how do I tell them that it is inappropriate to ask these things? That despite these good intentions, they could be destroying someone on the inside?