You should know this.

You came before you were expected. Way before. And it took me a couple of weeks before I stopped holding my breath randomly at moments, lost in a cloud of worry and frustration. I felt sick. I felt weak. I felt unprepared. So instead of facing the reality of your appearance head on, I let it trickle in slowly, as I felt I could handle it. At first it was just survival mode... trying to keep myself from throwing up my food or waking up every hour, anxious and restless. Then I started ignoring it all. Ignoring my rapidly growing belly and my bad skin and strange dreams.

People tried to convince me of my good fortune.

"Oh they'll be best friends!"

"You're so blessed to even have babies!"

"You can be done with the baby stage all at once!"

I repeated them to myself daily, and although I saw their merit, I still felt like I was standing on shaky ground. I felt guarded. I felt afraid. They just weren't convincing me the way they wanted to, though I pretended they were.

===================================

At around 11 weeks pregnant, I felt a flutter. I second-guessed myself because... I mean... there's no way. And us women who have already been through pregnancy kind of roll our eyes at the first-time pregg0rz women and their announcements of symptoms, because we're like, "Yeah yeah, wait until you're 30 weeks pregnant, buddy." I'm not saying it's nice or fair. You earn your own badge of nutty ridiculousness in your pregnancy, and then you watch other people earn theirs and you feel all righteous like, "There's no WAY she could be showing yet. She's 8 seconds pregnant. Nauseous already? Yeah right."

It's just a thing.

But in all of the tiredness, the gagging at random things, the strange pulling sensations, the emotional outbursts... I haven't really allowed myself to pause. And exhale. And think about you, separately, apart from Billy and apart from Everly. When I daydream of you, it's always in context of the family... what Everly will be teaching you, how she'll be treating you.

Today while I was putting some towels in the dryer, I felt movement again. A lot of people told me that movement would feel like butterflies with Everly - but it never really did. It always felt like popcorn or maybe a frog... I don't know... I called it fluttering but I never understood the butterfly description. But today I stopped and smiled, and rubbed my belly in the place where I felt a little butterfly spread it's wings. It was just me and you in that moment.

My baby. My little baby in there growing strong. I am falling in love with you. Be patient with me. I have less time to daydream... less time to marinate... but I have a feeling I won't need as much time with you. You're going to grow on me quickly. You're making your presence known already.

In the end, the only convincing I needed was from you... and it started with a flutter.

Wow, oh, wow. The last week has brought about some big changes.

For starters, I had a job interview for a part-time therapist position at a community mental health agency about 20 minutes away. The job would be 3 days per week, allow me to work on my licensing hours, and keep me fresh in the counseling field. I'd be working with adults with severe and persistent mental health issues, meaning they have multiple diagnoses, and most of them are personality disorders and mood disorders. This is very similar to what I did for most of my internship experiences, only I worked with adolescents instead of adults. This is an all day therapeutic rehabilitation program, so we'd be doing individual and group therapy, as well as arts & crafts time, life skills development, and milieu management.

I'm not sure if I'll be offered the job or not, but because I have a few other options lined up, I decided it was time to start looking for childcare "just in case". I prayed about it and while I am happy to be a stay at home mama, I am ready to use part of my time in my other passion... no not eating chocolate and taking long showers... but helping others.

Insert Random Cutie Picture of Everly
at Lunch Today

So.

The first thing I wanted to decide was whether I should use a nanny or daycare. Here are some basic pros/cons I came up with:

Nanny Pros
-More individualized attention
-Could watch at our house
-Becomes a part of the family
-Can take Everly places (like playgroup meetups)

Nanny Cons
-May be uninterested in part-time work
-Little exposure to other people/babies
-Less state regulation
-Less accountability

Daycare Pros
-More regulation by the state
-Exposure to more people and babies
-Curriculum that must be followed
-Can be used until the child is ready for school
-Accountability for staff/facility

Daycare Cons
-Will be sick more often
-Expensive
-Less individualized attention

---

I felt like I was leaning toward using both. A daycare for 2 days per week, and a nanny for 1 day per week. But how could I find a daycare that took part-time babies?

That's where references came in. I posted on Facebook, emailed other mamas I knew, and posted a message on my mom playgroup message board, which is where I got a referral to the daycare we discovered today. We'll call it Happy Place, because I don't trust you all... kidnappers.

So anyway!

This place received really great reviews online and with moms I knew. It was also the most expensive I had heard of in town, so I figured it had to be different in some way for them to be able to charge what they were (even for just 2 days).

Billy and I walked in and both looked disheveled. It had been raining, I was wearing flip-flops even though it's like 50 degrees today, and Billy didn't wear his wedding ring because he forgot it. If you've ever seen us, you understand the significance of this... we look like teenagers, it's just the truth... so when we look disheveled, we look irresponsible and kind of... ridiculous. So that was fun since this kind of looked like... well... a rich people place, to be honest. And I mean that as a compliment... but I gotta keep it real. B and I are both from rural communities, so daycares are just... different in my head... like babies are running around with diapers on their heads and knocking stuff over and falling into the dirty floor in a puddle of tears.

Drama is my middle name.

Happy Place was impressive. I was looking for clean, bright, non-cluttered, and a friendly staff. I found all of the above, as well as the fact that it's God-centered, there are webcams so you can check in on your baby all day long, it is roomy but cozy, and it just gave me that.... positive gut feeling, I guess you could say. And it's not easy to give me a positive gut feeling when I'm hungry and nauseated!

I'm one of those people who bases decisions on intuition and feeling (ENFP, anyone?) and I felt really good about Happy Place. I'm almost ready to make the commitment, but I am checking out some nannies. Using a nanny just one day per week instead of the daycare would save us $40-50 a month. Plus the nanny I'm looking into has kids, takes them to playgroups regularly, and has some great references from what I've seen. She is also the organizer of our playgroup & has been for a while - and our playgroup has over 100 members. So she's got her stuff together.

While it's not easy mentally or emotionally thinking about childcare for your baby that you've been at home with the last 9 months, it's also not easy being someone that enjoys their profession and putting it on hold forever and always missing it. I think striking a balance was important to me. I'll still be home with Everly more often than not, I've given her a great foundation for attachment, and I'll be prepared to go into full-time work when Everly & the new baby are old enough for school.

It's a perfect set-up. Now to see if it's a perfect execution.

I am a tired girl.

The truth is, I've sat down to write a few times but I feel like my story is redundant right now. First trimesters are not kind to me, and I am not fond of them in return. Though I know it's a common sentiment that I should "count my blessings" and "realize how lucky I am" and "just be thankful" - that's hard to do when you feel like you're constantly motion sick, bloated to the brink of explosion, swallowing huge amounts of excess saliva (yup, it's one of my favorite symptoms), and trying to find even one food that sounds appetizing and has some type of nutritional content in it.

I'm tired of having to be careful about complaining, to avoid hurt feelings. It's hard to not complain when you feel like your life has been hijacked. It's just hard. And women should be "allowed" to be upset, confused, anxious, and sick (even though they're also blessed, lucky, and thankful).

So my days have been spent mustering up energy to maintain some normalcy amidst my zero energy curse. Then Everly and I came down with colds and I was sure the universe had turned against me, because you know... everything is a catastrophe right now (another great emotional symptom).

I can barely change Everly's diapers. I can't do the dishes because of the smell. I am having trouble cleaning the house because I feel faint and dizzy within seconds. And food is disgusting right now. Just about all food. My belly is already showing, and though it's cute and I knew I would pop much earlier since it was my 2nd pregnancy and so close to my 1st, I'd be lying if I didn't say I am worried at how large I could possibly be by 30+ weeks. Ahhhhhhh.

Yeah. That's me. At a little over 9 weeks. Oddly I've lost 3lbs?

Audible moaning. Me rolling around on the ground.

The stretchmarks on my side are the only ones I got with Everly, by the way. Please let that be the case w/ this little buddy too? If you do I will give you free cupcakes?

No? No bargaining? Ok.

(Who am I talking to?)

So yes. I'm in the phase where I feel negative and overwhelmed. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel. I very well remember how happy I became in my 2nd trimester. But getting there is bumpy, and it makes me feel quiet and withdrawn and lonely and like a big baby. And this time I can't be as dependent because I'm a BIG GIRL NOW! and it's crap. I like being juvenile and wollering in misery.

It's all very dramatic, friends.

This may explain my absence as of late. Expect my return shortly. :)

Everly Mae,

My 9 month old girl. Wow. You have two teeth, your hair is filling out and is a strawberry blonde color, you feed yourself, and your crawling and climbing skills are getting better daily. You are a big girl!

Okay... so to me you're a big girl. Really you weigh about 15.5 pounds and you're almost 26 inches long. Technically - you're really tiny for a 9 month old. But we are really tiny, too. So you fit into the family just right... there is no question that you're ours. You have my huge head (yay) and eye color, and just about everything else belongs to your daddy, if I'm going to be honest. Here is a picture of when we all were babies:

Hilarious.

You love your mirror book, your Kentucky pom pom, your play kitchen, eating paper of any kind, eating dog food (discovered this yesterday), when I get you out of your carseat after a long trip, food of any kind, drinking water from your straw sippie cup, bath time, twisting and twirling your tongue in odd ways, other babies and kids, and your tiny naked baby doll that used to be mine. You also learned how to growl recently and you do it after we do and it's hilarious, you love showing off. Your sense of humor gets stronger every day.

You dislike when someone tries to make you do something you don't want to, laying down to take a bottle now, when I leave the room, being told, "No!" and being laid down for sleepy time. I don't know if you'll ever grow out of the last one.

This has been a very difficult last 3 weeks for me, baby girl. I have been very sick and very exhausted. I wake up in the mornings feeling unsteady and queasy, and I go to bed at night feeling tired and overwhelmed. My body cannot go as far as I'm wanting (and needing) it to go right now, and it leaves me feeling frustrated... and frankly I feel like a bad mother sometimes.

You see... ever since you were born, my main goal in life has been protecting you, entertaining you, teaching you, nourishing you, and keeping you happy. But I can't do that as well lately, and it's hurting me a little bit. And I can't do that because I'm having to put effort into something else now...



A little baby, just like you, only much smaller.

You're going to be a big sister, sweet girl!

And we're scared to death. We knew we wanted babies to fill our home, but we had no idea that God would want those babies to be exactly as far apart as your daddy and his brother - 17 months, to be exact. When we found out, we joked anxiously and it took about a week or so for it to really hit us... that we were about to go on this ride all over again. And as exciting as it is, the ride is not always smooth and scenic - sometimes it is bumpy and dark, and it can be very scary. But we know we can do it, because you have shown us our strength, our resilience, and our purpose.

I need you to know something though.

You'll always be my first baby.

You taught me how to be a mother. I need you to know that because of you, I have more faith in God, a better understanding of love, and a happier outlook on life. I need you to know that nothing will ever, ever, ever change the bond we have or the secrets we share. Nothing will ever take me away from you.

I know that's impossible for you to understand right now.

All I can do is whisper into your ear late at night, while I gently push your hair from your face. I can hold you tighter and longer and sing Jack Johnson and Patty Griffin and Guster to you. I can dance with you, spin you in circles, and kiss the bottoms of your feet every day. I can make promises I'll never break.

So that's what I'll do.

And when our new baby comes home later this year, I cannot wait to see your face. I know you'll smile as big as you can. I know you'll be as good of a sister as you are a daughter. I know I'll be giving you someone to hold onto, to play with, and to cling to when times are tough... even when your daddy and I are no longer here. You'll have each other.

Until then, I'm going to soak up every little bit of our time together as a family of 3 (and a half). Because I want you to know that you are loved, and that love doesn't divide - it only multiplies.
To my best little buddy... happy 9 months!

Love, Mama

Before having Everly, I remember reading blogs and hearing women comment on how they never fix their hair or wear mascara any more because what's the point? They're tired. They're covered in bodily fluids that aren't their own. And they still have that stubborn 15 pounds hanging onto their belly that they need to lose (or is that just me?) I can remember literally rolling my eyes (as I did many times back then at Mom Blogs) and saying to myself:

"That will NEVER be me."

There were a lot of things I swore I'd never do. I swore I'd never have a Mom Blog once years ago. I swore I'd never have parenting magazines laying around everywhere. I swore I'd never let my living room look like a daycare after I had a baby, because after all - do they really need that much space and that many toys?


(My living room right now. Yes really.)

Point of advice for moms-to-be (among your other 900 million points of advice you're going to receive):

Don't say that you're never going to do something. Otherwise you're going to look and feel like an ass, the same way I did.

But yes. Now I find myself in the same position as all those women, where I barely brush or condition my hair, feel accomplished when I put some concealer on, and go public places with stains on my shirt regularly. The other day I went to Target in my husband's sweat pants, a t-shirt from Gatlinburg, Tennessee, and my hair in a half-ponytail. I looked like Everly's teenage babysitter, distraught and sweaty and ridiculous.

So I'm done. Starting this week, I am going to make some sort of effort to make myself beautiful again, though I think I'll need to start slowly. Maybe I should paint my toenails? Or maybe I'll make studded earrings a must. Or maybe I'll wear a shirt that doesn't have a sassy saying or Chuck Norris on the front.

How did you get your sass back after having a baby? Or have you?

Part of being a mama is that down time is going to be inevitable. What does down time mean in this case? It means that we aren't always going to be joyfully stacking blocks, wiping noses, singing lullabies, and frolicking about in our best clothing while spinning our baby (GENTLY) above our heads. With The Sound of Music's soundtrack playing in the background.

"The hills are aliveeeeee with the smell of diapppperrrrssss..."

Down time means that our own noses might need wiping. We are going to look like we just voluntarily jumped into a washing machine and laid there while it did an aggressive spin cycle. We are going to be tired, uninspired, and grouchy.

The good thing about this down time is that it is never able to last very long, because being a mom means being a soldier through the storm, and carrying forward for your little one even when you feel like being left behind (and napping for 4 hours at a time).

So. Things have been quiet around here, though not necessarily quiet at home. But I can handle them as long as I keep my eye on the prize.

The prize that I get to win, over and over again, every day.

You may be wondering where I've been. Or you may be relieved that you don't have to read any more of my sarcastic nonsense. Or you may be excited about the new episode of Glee tonight. It's really all a toss-up.

The annoying thing is that I'm going to say what lots of bloggers say when they're short on content.

There is a lot of content straight ahead. I'm currently writing an article for Oh Baby Magazine (thanks to my friend Jordan!) and that's consuming part of my thoughts. Also, I have a few video posts in the work, as well as many more featured guests.

Tomorrow the posting/content shall pick up. Until then, I'm posting because I would LOVE to know what you'd like to see articles about around here. Tell me in the comments!