Motherhood

“We listen and do not judge. We keep an open mind and speak kind words.”

I repeat that statement to my students, sometimes multiple times a day. Middle schoolers can be ruthless.

So can Mommas.

It starts before you even have the baby. I heard letting your heart rate get above 140 while pregnant can be harmful to the baby. Why are you still strength training? You shouldn’t lift more than 20 lbs. Are you having a natural birth or going for an epidural? Don’t get induced. Inductions force your body to labor before it’s ready. Then the baby is born. Are you going to breastfeed? Breast is best! You’re putting your baby in daycare? Oh … the germs! Did you give your infant all their shots at once? Spacing them out is the best route. Co-sleeping? That is so very dangerous. Cry-it-out method? You’re creating attachment issues.

I have a 21-month-old feral spitfire occupying my household, so math tells me I’ve been exposed to the Momma Judgment comments for 30ish months. I’ve concluded that the judgment isn’t going to stop. Instead of daycare, it will be the age at which we allow Marlow to have a phone. What kind of car will she drive, or will we make her get a summer job, and what clothes will we allow her to wear to church?

I told myself that I wouldn’t open up my heart and offer my personal opinions if I put my thoughts to paper and published this writing to the public. Still, here I am, about to get honest without knowing who I may offend.

Fitness During and After Pregnancy

You do not need to comment about whether it’s in the Mom’s or baby’s best interest if the Momma-to-be is training during her pregnancy. I can guarantee you that Momma is ONLY thinking about the health of that growing bean instead of her uterus. I am 100% sure she has discussed her training routine with her OB. That Momma knows her body and limits better than anyone else.  

Post-Postpartum bounce back? Please, shut up! Do not comment on that Momma’s appearance two weeks or two years after giving birth. You have no idea what she may be experiencing internally, physically, or emotionally.

I experienced prolapse, pelvic floor distress, and damage to my sphincter. Telling me I look great and bounced back! Thanks, but I can’t run, jump, or lift weights. Thanks for thinking I bounced back because I no longer have the extra weight around my tummy.

Natural Birth / At Home Birth / C-Section / Induced

You can write a birthing plan. You can be as detailed as having a playlist that is played starting at the time you begin the birthing process. You can have a plan, but sometimes that plan combusts, and you have no control. You can’t control if the baby is breech. You can see if you’re a candidate to try to flip the baby to head-down, but if you don’t have enough fluid, you are getting a c-section even if your original birth plan stated vaginal delivery.  

I was told by more than one person that Marlow’s delivery was so long and difficult because I chose to get induced. I was told that my body was not ready to give birth and that I should have waited because my body would have naturally gone through the birthing process without the help of Pitocin. What I never told those individuals who had such strong opinions is that at my 40-week appointment, it was determined through the ultrasound that my placenta was deteriorating. My OB said I had 48 hours to see if contractions started naturally or I needed to get induced for the safety of the baby. I’m not sure if the general public knows, but a baby can’t survive in the uterus without the nutrients from a healthy placenta. I would have never watched Marlow grow into the spicy spirit she is today if I hadn’t forced my body into labor.

Stay-At-Home or Daycare

There are pros and cons to both. Do what is best for your family, and don’t (excuse my language) fucken judge others. It’s that simple.

I could continue my rant with breastfeeding vs formula, co-sleeping vs cry-it-out methods, and the vaccination situation, but I’ve made my point. We’ve got to start trusting Moms. Our jobs as Moms, whether we rear face until they are 12 or send them to private school, are hard enough. Can’t we build friendships and love one another because being a mom is the most complex job in the world?

I don’t care about your personal decisions [that do not affect me or my family] because I care about you as a person, Mom, and friend. Ask a pregnant Momma-to-be how they feel physically and mentally instead of judging their weight or fitness routine. Who cares how they deliver the baby? Regardless, it is personal, challenging, and will 100% be life-changing for them whether it goes as planned or not. There is no need to ask about daycare or whether they will stay home with the baby. Instead, offer support once the baby does arrive Earth-side. You don’t need to ask them if they want to try to breastfeed. Every Mom wants that, and if they choose it’s not best, it’s not working, or the baby doesn’t latch, I can guarantee that Mom feels guilty. You should listen and not judge. Have an open mind and speak kind words.

I believe motherhood should be something that unites women. I hope women cheer each other on instead of giving our un-valued opinions that bring each other down. I know we are all humans. It is impossible not to think negatively when someone is doing something you don’t believe in. However, how you handle that thought is totally something you can control.

My whole perspective on life has changed. Everything I once thought was important no longer occupies space in my thoughts. I dreamed about having a white house with a big porch. I lost summer weeks and gave up evenings at home to work extra jobs to fill my bank account. Time in the gym was insufficient if it didn’t result in a six-pack. I am a creature of habit, and I filled my days with endless tasks; the hustle was all I lived for. Owning a house, a substantial bank account, a shined-up vehicle, the ideal body, and a career people respected – that’s what success is, right? 

Not a soul uttered these words in the nine months leading up to Poppy’s arrival: ‘You’re about to meet someone entirely new. And it’s not your baby, it’s going to be you.’ Yet, this is the truth I’ve come to realize. My values remain unchanged, but my perspective has shifted. 

I’ve come to embrace the joy of simplicity. True happiness isn’t confined to a big white house. It’s found in Marlow’s smile peaking through the bars of her crib, illuminated by the morning light. A large backyard isn’t necessary to enjoy a BBQ; our five-by-five-foot area in front of our garage is just as delightful. I no longer trade my evenings at home for a $60 check from officiating basketball games. Instead, I treasure our family walks to Sweet Peaks or moments on the stoop with Marlow Bug cooing and diving for ants. 

I used to dedicate my early morning hours to fitness. It took me a while to be okay with whatever workout I did during my lunch hour these last few months. The lack of fitness resulted in a lot of frustration and resentment. Kody asked me what my fitness goals are. Easy, ” I want to be healthy. I want to feel good. I want to be able to snow ski with my grandchildren in my 70’s.” Nowhere in our conversation did I talk about what my body should look like. I found my entire view of my body had shifted. I used to criticize it; no matter my strength or endurance, it was never good enough. Now, I have nothing but respect for what my body did and can do. It nourished Marlow from when she was a PoppySeed until she was seven months old Earthside. Isn’t that incredible? I now accept the cellulite and stretch marks. I discovered that our bodies aren’t meant to be forced into what we think they should look like, but they need to be respected for everything they are capable of. 

I am so proud of my career as a teacher. I love teaching children, and even if I were financially able to stay at home, I would still choose to teach America’s Youth. I never missed school. I am still determining if it was pride or a hustle mentality, but I wasn’t willing to miss a school day—until this year. I am embarrassed to look up how many sick days I have taken this school year to be home with Miss. Marlow Girl on days she wasn’t feeling well. My students will survive the day without me, and work will always be there the next day. 

Don’t get me wrong, there are moments when my brain questions my new perspective on life. Old habits are hard to break. However, there are places in your heart you don’t even know exist until you love a child. What once was important in the past seems funny in the present moment. 

I often think about the end of my life. At the end of my living days, whether that is next week or in 40 years, what truly matters? Spending moments with the ones I love and who love me. It’s that simple. 

I will never again wish for a big house. I will only hope for a home where my whole family lives. 

I don’t need a substantial bank account. I only need enough money to fulfill our basic needs. 

Daily exercise and overall health is perfectly okay at this stage of life. 

Work will never take precedence over family. 

If you are able to tuck in a healthy, peacefully sleeping child into a warm bed in a safe home, you’ve won the lottery of life. 

I am a living millionaire. 

I have been wanting to write about the experience of motherhood /parenthood for a couple of weeks now. I have so many thoughts I don’t know where to begin. I will share what I’ve learned, what has helped me most, and what I’ve discovered about myself. 

Pushing Against Martyr Mom 

Social media paints motherhood as an endless rough patch of sleepless nights, tears, and loss of identity and social life. I’m not saying this doesn’t happen. I didn’t sleep for more than three consecutive hours for the first month. Tears have fallen from frustration and fatigue. Feelings of identity loss have surfaced, and my social life looks different than it once did. 

I knew motherhood would be difficult, and I was very worried about Postpartum Depression because I know so many women experience it. 

Kody and I intentionally put a plan in place to ensure I was supported in the case PPD presented. Kody’s role entailed taking care of me. He was very headstrong about me being honest and open with my emotions. (I tend to crawl into a hole and suppress my feelings – hold habits). He made me promise I would ask for help. As for me, I was adamant about not subscribing to the ‘martyr mom’ narrative, and I knew the solution to combat that was to ensure I was doing what I could not to lose myself. Some of those plans included returning to work in October and daily movement. 

I get asked if I plan to stay home with Marlow or at least take a year off teaching. We secured Marlow a full-time spot in daycare starting in October so I could return to work. I don’t have to work; I choose to teach because it fills my soul. Marlow and I would have all joyful days together if I stayed home with her, but that’s not best for me or our family. 

Exercise looks different for me right now. I am still processing postpartum and working through unanticipated recovery challenges. I am learning to adapt to what my body can do in the season that I am in. Somedays, movement is simply pushing Marlow in the stroller for ten minutes. 

The moral of the story is, to be honest with yourself. Set boundaries and expectations that allow you to thrive as a family. 

Hormones 

It is almost comical how wild your hormones are during pregnancy and postpartum. I truly don’t recognize myself some days. I can feel the hormones surging through me. I wonder if this is just who I am now. I snap at the dumbest things. Simple tasks seem so huge and like a big deal. I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me. I have never been a crier or emotional, but I can’t even count the number of times I have looked at Kody with silent, giant tears running down my face. There is usually no reason behind these tears, and we laugh about how ridiculous these silly hormones are. 

I have always been anxious, but Postpartum Anxiety is a different level of unease. I get so scared that Marlow will stop breathing or never wake up. Thank you for the invention of the Outlet Dream Sock monitor. I lay in bed, and my mind races through all the horrible things that could happen to Marlow or stress about my never-ending ‘to-do list.’ Luckily, the rational part of my brain can talk myself through the craziness. Hormones are a wild ride. 

Kody + Skylar + Marlow = Family   

Kody and I share a vision of what we want our lives as a family to look like, and we actively work together to fulfill that image. 

There is nothing easy about transitioning to parents. As a couple, it tests you. Discussions need to be handled with care. Kody and I know what type of people we are as spouses, friends, or family members. However, we are learning who we are as Marlow’s parents. Everything is new. We do not revolve our lives around Marlow. We integrate Marlow into our lives and bring her along for the ride. 

I had no idea what to expect coming into motherhood. “Is being a parent what I thought it would be?” Honestly, it’s better. Life without Marlow doesn’t make sense anymore.