Motherhood: Ending the Judgements, Competition & Shame.

Motherhood: Ending the Judgements, Competition & Shame.

I started to notice it when I was pregnant. The questions, "Where are you delivering?", "What kind of birth are you having?", and my extra-special favorite, "Where are you going to live? You're moving??! Why?" or even better, "You're moving in with your PARENTS? Seriously... why???" There just seemed to be so much speculation about my (and my husband's) personal choices. Everyone had an opinion. Friends, family, nice people, not-so-nice-people, old men on the street, other moms. Everyone had a very specific opinion and reasons backing up why they were right. Often accompanied by their harrowing personal stories that I didn't really care to hear. Long, drawn-out tales about why their idea/opinion/input really should be heavily considered. And followed blindly. Over whatever rubbish I was choosing to do.

It was a little jarring.

Little did I know, that was just the prep course for entering motherhood.

Motherhood is tricky business. No one really told me. Haaaa, that's not true. Pretty much everyone told me. I just didn't really understand how NOT JOKING serious this business would be. It is, by FAR, the hardest thing I have ever done. And no, I don't just mean the pushing-the-baby-out part (although that was no breakfast at Tiffany's.) Being a mom. I mean, wow. It's hard. I shall leave it at that. At least for today.

One really interesting fringe non-benefit of motherhood is the continuation of what I experienced during my pregnancy: the speculation of my choices. I am certainly not the only mother to experience this uncomfortable, obvious, verbal or non-verbal, passing-of-judgement by others. And I'll be honest, I have totally done it, too. Judged other people's choices.

Other moms' choices.

Yeah, I suck. But the thing is, we all have opinions and reasons for why we do what we do. But now I'm experiencing first hand how awkward and insecure it has made me feel, all while fumbling around, attempting to be the best mom I can be. I am obviously making mistakes left and right. But you know what? I love my son. And most every mom I know... they love their adorable little mini-me's, too. So why are we so hard on each other when the end goal is pretty much the same? To raise lovely, fiercely-loved little rock star babies. Or something like that.

I look around me, and there are debates about which is best when it comes to... pretty much every parenting subject.

Breastfeeding or formula-feeding?

Stay at home mom or working-outside-the-home mom?

Vaccinating or not vaccinating? Delaying? Running away scared from the pediatricians office?

Letting your baby cry it out or coming to their rescue at every whimper?

Co-sleeping or baby in the crib at two weeks?

Cloth diapers or disposables?

Daycare, nursery, nanny, grandmother, babysitter, random neighbor you've met twice... who will watch your child when you aren't with them?

When are you leaving said child with another person? Wait, you haven't done that yet?? Tsk tsk.

I could go on and on. But the dilemma is constant. These choices are really, really difficult to make. Have you ever heard of mompetition? I hadn't. But the sudden thrust into this experience has my head spinning - how can I gracefully transition into motherhood without feeling the slime of this maternal warfare? I'm sure the mommy wars don't end. I anticipate the lame debates to come: Public school or private school? Or home school? TV and video games or books and playing outside? Ugh I'll stop listing here. Because you get the picture.

The judgements, comparisons and unnecessary opinions must end. And I know that it starts with me. I have to stop believing that everyone is judging me and I have to STOP comparing myself and judging others. Reading this article made me laugh, and also really helped. Because after experiencing a mere 11 weeks of motherhood, I am dumbfounded at how spectacularly impressive mothers are. And you know what? New moms are trying to parent their child while juggling a conga line of colorful hormones, the shame of carrying stubborn "baby weight" that just won't seem to get lost, a smattering of emotions and anxiety and for some, even depression. These women don't need to hear opinions or feel silent judgement. They need affirmation and love, because they are spending endless days giving all of that love away to someone else.

You know what every mom needs to hear?

You're a good mom.

You're doing an awesome job.

Way to go, sustaining that little human's life.

I speak from the position of being a brand-spankin'-new mom, but I imagine that the future me would still need and want to hear those things. Because what we're doing is hard work. And the judgements, the comparisons... well, they are fruitless. They make zero difference. I am going to keep on parenting the way that feels natural for me and my family. And when I want advice and help, I already have my go-to people who I trust will set me straight. And that random mama that I don't know all that well isn't relying on my opinion of her, either. She's got enough on her mind, she doesn't need to deal with the social anxiety of my judgement passing before her. She needs me to love her and tell her she's doing an awesome job. That her instincts are amazing. And that her child is mega-blessed to have her looking out for them.

So I ask that you join me. Let's end this cycle of mom angst and celebrate the sisterhood we've entered into. Whether you're a new mom, a wondrously wizened mom, a single lady, or someone who detests the thought of ever producing spawn, your camaraderie makes a spectacular impact. When you have a judgmental thought about someone else, stop yourself. Take that judgement and slam dunk it into the little trash can inside your mind. And when you feel shamed by someone else for a choice you've made, remind yourself that she's probably just feeling motivated by that lousy mompetition. Instead of getting offended, immediately forgive her. Release her from your offense. Because you don't have the time or capacity to deal with the that odious frustration. Let's trade the practice of passing judgement on others' choices and start celebrating the sisterhood of motherhood. Because we need each other's affirmation.

To all you glorious, hardworking, endlessly loving mamas, I just want to tell you that YOU ROCK and you're doing a tremendous, sublime, stunning job. I salute you. Now hand that baby over to your man and go get a manicure. You've more than earned it.

Life Lately.

Life lately.

A lot has been happening. All big changes. New experiences. While my son is hard-wiring for his lifetime here on Earth, I feel like I've transported to life on another planet. I'm wildly exhausted and scurried, yet I feel like I'm getting nothing done all day. I know that raising a baby is the MOST IMPORTANT thing I can do with my time right now. But it can be challenging to constantly remain positive about it when the days are endlessly long and pretty freakin' hard. And when I feel like my brain cells are being depleted and I am morphing into a mere milking, diapering, baby-holding buffoon. I used to have real world skills! I think. My emotions vacillate from over-the-moon-infatuated with my darling baby to... purely depleted and sometimes weepy. Just depends on the hour. And how much sleep I've gotten.

My life lately?

Midnight milk parties, consumed by my little babe's sleepy noises and milk-laced grins. And of course, these are the moments I so desperately want to capture, and CAN'T, because the room is so darn dark. I wish the iPhone made an infrared camera.

I keep finding colic tablets in my sheets. Am I producing them?

Re-swaddling the maverick child who un-swaddled himself, then knocked himself in the face with his puppy-hands, then cried about it. Then woke me up. Then mommy cried too.

Eating the same foods everyday because they are the most surefire way to NOT upset his tummy. 24 hours of a baby wailing because I ate garlic, yogurt or salsa just isn't fun. And it also isn't worth it.

Trying every possible comforting sound, movement, song and dance (yes, I am baby whipped and dancing like a monkey) just to give my under-stimulated, overly-bored and often-times tummy-aching child some distraction and relief. I've run out of all the good ideas. But I'll attempt all the lame ones too.

My daily mantra: "Please God, give me grace and give Everett peace. Let him know I love him so much. And get me to my 8pm glass of wine."

Don't even get me started on how often I get peed upon. I've started to think about it as the anointing of the mother/son relationship.

Now don't get me wrong. There are a ton of gorgeous moments, too.

Like when I pick him up as he's screaming and he immediately softens. Reaches up. And wraps his darling Popeye arms around my neck. And then smiles RIGHT INTO MY EYES. Cue heart melt. Oh wait. I'm crying again.

Like when I put him on his play mat and show him how to reach up and touch the rattling mobile with his hand. AND THEN HE DOES IT BY HIMSELF. I taught him something and HE LEARNED IT. Crying over here.

Like trading in my R&B Pandora stations for Baby Einstein. We jog and sing to the hokey pokey, twinkle twinkle, and thankfully, those songs that Jack Johnson did for some children's movie. Yeah, the other outdoor exercisers in the neighborhood can hear us coming. Straight from old McDonald's farm.

Like when he's just finished nursing, and he looks up at me with those sleepy-happy eyes, milk dribbling down his cheek, and just yawns (and often farts), wriggles around a bit and finally sighs himself into a deep sleep. Knowing that I met all his needs is the BEST feeling.

I think I'm becoming a mom.

A Final Bumpdate.

//Top: 10 weeks, 13 weeks, 16 weeks // Middle: 17 weeks, 20 weeks, 22 weeks // Bottom: 22 weeks, 24 weeks, 31 weeks //

// Top: 26 weeks, 30 weeks, 34 weeks // Middle: 34 weeks, 35 weeks, 36 weeks // Bottom: 36 weeks, 37 weeks, 37.5 weeks //

A Final Bumpdate.

I can't believe my pregnancy journey is over. Everett has been on my mind every single day since I saw those two lines form on the test. And now? I'm fascinated looking back over these silly selfies. I'm amazed at how significantly my body changed to accommodate my sweet son. Suddenly being on the other side of this journey is so strange. One day, everything just reverses. The burgeoning belly expands until it, literally, pops, and then begins its descent back to "normal" (oh geez, what is a normal body after baby??)

Now, being in the throws of motherhood, it's easy to move on quickly from the pregnancy experience and dive headfirst into baby development. But today, I had to take a moment to reflect on the beautiful and absurd experience that is pregnancy. I'm finally able to feel truly proud of what my body created and nurtured for 9 months. And I feel an entirely new appreciation for the vocation of motherhood, and especially, my incredible mother.

What women do for their children is remarkable. It's so, so hard. And it's the most thankless kind of job. I mean, my 7-week old baby just doesn't wake up thanking me for the hard work. The diapering, feeding, cooing, singing, bouncing, and all the asinine attempts to comfort his sobbing. Perhaps one day? Yeah, I know, dream on. But it's been this experience that has caused me to go back to my own mother, thanking her profusely, finally realizing a teensy, tiny sliver of how selflessly she gave to me all those years... and how she is still doing it. Giving, advising, disciplining, helping, teaching, growing me. I feel so grateful, so incredibly indebted and a tiny bit ashamed of those past immature moments when I found myself angry with her, accused her of "not understanding". Was I so blind? I know now. I have been on her mind for my entire life, plus nine months before that.

Now I see why this motherhood thing is such a complex, all-encompassing, never-ever-ending journey. It's the deep end of the womanhood pool. It's an extension of the most challenging and life-giving experiences one can have. All my poignant milestones, those moments of victory & triumph, those challenging battles & overcoming mountains - they weren't just for my own gain. They're the foundation for my own babe to build upon. It's my responsibility to take the most powerful, strong parts of myself, lay them at the feet of my son, and simply say, "Take what's mine, go and be greater." Which is awfully hard to do, because I feel so inadequately prepared. So unready. But I'm finding that the most gracious & authentic way to approach this motherhood thing is to just. Come. Undone.

And I'm only 7 weeks in.

Now I have to go rescue my crying baby from, you guessed it, my own mother. Because she held him the entire time I processed and wrote this post this morning. GO THANK YOUR MOM TODAY. Because wow.

A Month of Motherhood.

A Month of Motherhood.

Aaaaaaaaaaand we're back! I've taken the past month off from the blog to, you know, adjust. To life with a baby. But I am finally starting to get some sleep (keyword: some) and I've missed writing and this wonderful community of wonderful readers (that's you!)

The past month has been the biggest shift in my life. A bigger shift than getting married and moving in with a boy. A bigger shift than moving to a different city (more than once) and "starting over". This has been the big one. Laboring and delivering this child was no joke, but the responsibility for another human's life? That's hefty. That's not the kind of thing you want to screw up. But when you're new at it, you have NO IDEA how to keep another human alive. Especially when they're tiny (well, mine is sort of tiny), and rightfully needy. Feed them? Change them? Um, get them to go to sleep?! How does one do that?! Perhaps for some ladies, knowing how to care for a child is innate. But I was never the babysitting type. I was never an ooey-gooey baby-loving person. I never wanted to hold other peoples' babies, I was just fine looking at them from here, thanks very much. I'm the kind of aunt that never changes diapers, I just like to give presents and play with them until the tears set in (too intense!) This isn't a secret. And I don't feel all that bad about it (although my sisters might wish that I wanted to change their kiddos diapers a bit more.) However, I see that there are some benefits to being aware of baby-ish things before you actually have one of your own. Because PEOPLE. I'm pretty clueless.

Well, I should say I was clueless. The past month has felt like a college crash-course. Stevie and I have been soaking up every experience, attempting to trouble-shoot our child's needs and identify the "what" and "why" for every noise he makes - it is a stupendously serious learning curve. It has been awesome and sometimes a little bit awful. But we have laughed and marveled at our sweet son way more than we have cried. So that's positive. But there are a few things that I have learned this month... mostly to just BE OKAY with this hilarious, humbling process of becoming a parent. Hopefully, a good one :)

What I've learned in the Past Month of Being a Mom:

- It's okay to wear your maternity clothes post-birth. In fact, you probably have no other choice. Yes, you might have lost twenty pounds in the hospital, but there still isn't one thing in your closet that will fit your bod. AND THAT'S OKAY. Rock those maternity sweatpants. Yes, rock them for weeks.

- It's okay if your baby projectile poops all over you. It's organic.

- It's okay if your baby pees all over you. More than once in a day. He's just spirited.

- It's okay if the most glorious part of your day is when you get to take twenty minutes to yourself to take a shower. Note: I remember hearing this from a lot of moms when I was pregnant, and I honestly thought it was the saddest, most pathetic thing. Taking a shower? Like, that's a luxury?? Sad, sad women. Well, I stand corrected. TAKING A SHOWER IS AWESOME FUN. I think I will go take one now.

- It's okay to commandeer your baby's burp cloth as a tissue for your tears because HE WON'T STOP CRYING. Your tears are bigger than his tears, so you need that burp cloth more than he does.

- It's okay to feel mad at your husband for going back to work after paternity leave. Yes, I know he has to work to support us. Yes, I know he has to actually sleep at night in order to actually work the next day. I know all of this. I'm just still mad.

- It's okay if you feel quarantined from the real world during those first few weeks. That's because you are. But you're healing and you're getting to know your little smoochy-poo. All is right in the world. Just be okay with it.

- It's okay to online shop at Baby Gap on your phone during those late-night baby feedings. Oh wait, maybe that one is not okay...

- It's okay if you feel like you are using too many wipes and diapers. How many wipes does it take to change a diaper? Sheesh I don't know. Like 15??

- It's okay if your husband thinks you're using too many wipes each time you change a diaper.

- It's okay to send your husband to the store multiple times in a week to buy more wipes.

- It's MORE than okay to eat your heart out. Literally. Nursing a baby depletes all your energy and you need the calories. So eat up! But I mean, make it good stuff. Because your baby is suuuuuper impacted by everything you consume.

- It's okay to cry a lot. Like, a whole lot. YOU ARE NORMAL AND THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU.

- It's okay to take a lot of time to process your labor/delivery experience. I still am. Things never go as you planned. Talking to people about it really helps.

- It's okay to drink wine now. HURRAY!

There is more to be said, but as the post has gotten lengthy I will just sum up. It's all okay. It's just going to be okay. Okay? K.

Happy Due Date, Everett.

Happy Due Date.

He's here.

Everett Lee Hale was born on July 25 at 1:39pm, 8 lbs, 6.5 oz., 20 inches long.

Today is his due date, but I am so happy that he decided to come 9 days early. The happiest of all surprises.

// My smiley baby! //

// Home from the hospital! One proud papa :) //

Have I mentioned that we are completely undone?