Playing Mom vs. Being Mom

Let's see.

My hair is up in two ponytails. 

One on top

One on the bottom.

That's what happens when you chop your hair and don't think of the repercussions.

I'm in my underwear...

BUT

I have a shirt on at least!

Cricket is sleeping.

Tim is mowing and edging the lawn.

I'm between laundry and just changed the sheets, cleaned one bathroom and picked up our bedroom.

I think that deserves a writing break, yeah?

Yeah.

So,

let's get down to business!

All growing up I loved babies. 

LOVED

I'd ask for baby dolls every Christmas

I always kept my eye out for the most unique and life-like ones.

The water baby was as good as it got!

I had to change it's diaper cause it wet itself.

I got to fill it up with warm water and hold it in my arms.

It was the best.

But,

what I really wanted was my cousin, Jessica's, Cabbage Patch Kid.

Now, this was no ordinary CPK...

 it was weighted!

Don't ask me why this was a game changer, 

it just was.

Then, my siblings started popping out babies.

The first run, we got two at the same time

Yes, twins!

I was in baby heaven.

After the twins came

8 more made their grand appearance and I was smitten with each one.

I was convinced,

babies were the best thing in the world.

I jumped on opportunities to 

feed them, 

change them, 

bathe them,

you name it!

Once it was time for me to have my own, I knew I had it in the bag.

13 years under my belt of being a very experienced aunt.

This was going to be a peace of cake!

HELLO, KELSIE!

NO

YOU ARE WRONG.

Ok, I'm exaggerating with all those caps.

But really, it's not the same.

Not one bit.

As we know, the beginning was rough.

"This is what it's actually like being a mom?"

Hard Pass

This was down right dirty business!

Just two weeks prior to having Cricket, I relished the opportunities to give my niece baths.

Now...

"Well, let's see here. You have dried up milk all over your arms and face and probably smell sour, but I can't tell cause I'm scent immune these days, so I guess I better throw you in the sink, child."

"Oh, you spit up, and now your outfit (that I could very easily change) is soaking wet? That's too bad, let me help you by sticking a tissue under the soon to be sour milk stain, and call it good."

I mean, there are plenty more thought scenarios that I could offer you, but we'll just leave those there and move on.

So

playing mom my whole life was amazing. 

It was easy.

It was fun.

Being a mom on the other hand

it's really hard sometimes.

it's dirty

it's stinky 

(and I'm not referring just to the baby on those last two)

but, man

it's rewarding.

When she wakes up from her nap smiling so big you think your heart might burst.

When you get her to sleep and she begins to cackle.

When she's laying on your chest and falls asleep.

When you're feeding her and she won't take her eyes off of you.

When she sneezes and you just can't take it cause it's the cutest and smallest sneeze you've ever heard.

When she tucks her hands up by her face.

When she's sleeping with her mouth open.

I can go on, but I'm sure all you mom's know just how long the list can go.

Being a mom has turned out to be nothing like I would have imagined it to be.

But 

it has been the best thing to ever happen to me.

I tell Tim all the time,

"do you feel like she's ours?"

I can't fathom sometimes that we have her.

that she's OURS.

That we get to keep her for eternity.

Looking back on my childhood, nothing could have prepared me for the reality of being a mom.

I look at my mom and sisters and am in awe that they were able to raise the children that they brought into this world.

Cause it's not easy.

But it's the absolute best thing in the world.

That is all.

I must now go retrieve my blessed child, since she has awoken from her slumber.

Perfect timing, baby!

I love you even more now. ;)

BOOBS *huh!* What are you good for?

Here I am again.

Only this time, I have at least a shirt on.... but still in my underwear.

It's been 5 days since I've washed my hair

so let's not talk about the smell or look of it.

I have bags under my eyes.

I'm considering if I want to eat a hamburger bun with a slice of Kraft Single's American cheese placed ever so white trashily in the middle,

for the third day in a row,

for breakfast.

Tim is in the shower.

Cricket is down for her morning nap.

Just kidding

I just walked in there

She's awake.

But I'm just going to pretend that I didn't see that.

If she ain't screaming, ya know?

Ok.

So let's get down to business

(did everyone else just finish that sentence with "to defeat the Huns" like I did?)

BOOBS.

All of us women got 'em.

and some men, too.

But ours are meant to feed babies,

their's aren't.

ANYWAY.

Let's start at the beginning.

When I was pregnant I was absolutely terrified that I wouldn't be able to breastfeed.

that being, because of a few dreams I had had.

I'll share one with you, cause it's the best one.

*imagine a light hazy, watery transition into dreamland now*

It's time for me to give birth

I am quickly taken to the hospital

In a matter of minutes, I have had my babies.

Yes

babies.

I popped out twins.

But not just any kind of twins.

Middle Eastern twin boys.

Very olive skinned, dark, dark haired boys with uni-brows that looked nothing like Tim or myself.

(wtf)

As soon as those boys popped out

I went back to work.

Like, no kidding,

RIGHT AFTER.

When I show up to work everyone was very nonchalant 

You had twin Middle Easter babies? Cool.

I think nothing of it.

I take them back to the La-Z-Boy in the wax room and begin to nurse them.

Except no milk comes out.

So, I take them off my boobs,

set them in their carseats

and leave them.

Cause if I didn't have milk for them, then I had better just leave them to die.

(like I said, W. T. F)

So.

I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to breastfeed.

THEN

my sister, Haley, and myself were trying to figure out our bra size on the internet.

More specifically

Motherhood Maternity. 

HA!

Haley came back as like a triple Z (that might be a little exaggerated)

and me?

I came back as a AA.

(again, WTF)

I lost it. I was bawling. How am I supposed to nurse if my boobs aren't even big enough to fill out a bra!?

(by the way, I'm a D regularly, so I was like seriously pissed and upset)

(wah-wah-wah)

Ok. Back story complete.

Let's jump ahead to when Cricket was born.

I was adamant on the whole breast feeding thing.

I WAS GOING TO DO THIS.

The lactation nurse came in and showed me the ropes.

I can do this!

When I got home (ahem, when I got to my parent's house where we stayed for 2 weeks because I was a mental case) I knew I had this. 

Until one night.

It got really hard.

She just would not latch!

(I'm not much of a fighter, I found out, when I am depressed)

So Tim and I went and got bottles.

I was done.

My mom said, "Nope! You need to give it at least 7 weeks before you give up or you'll regret it!"

So I listened and obeyed.

Because mother's know best.

I was valiant! I got the hang of it and learned a lot of patience for that little nugget sucking ever so diligently on my nipple.

Until, all of a sudden she just wouldn't latch again!

I was so frustrated.

Come to find out, she had a tongue tie.

We got said tongue tie clipped 

(perhaps I'll share that traumatic experience in another post)

and her latch was great again.

Amazing actually.

But she just wasn't gaining weight fast enough.

I felt defeated.

I did everything in my power to increase my milk supply.

and I mean EVERYTHING.

You name it

I tried it.

It seemed to get better for a time.

She started gaining again.

Slow

but gaining.

She then started having days where she would be awake from 2:00 till 8:00 or 9:00 at night screaming.

I would feed her on demand.

I was sure she had colic.

She had all the signs and symptoms.

How was I supposed to handle a colicky baby?

I cannot do this!

Well, turns out, it wasn't colic.

She was just STARVING.

I started supplementing with formula 

and guys,

she's happy.

I pump and I supplement.

and I don't feel like a failure.

In fact, I feel like a much better mom.

She is packing on the LB's and I know that I'm taking care of her and giving her what she needs to grow healthy and strong.

I know that I gave breast feeding my best.

And I did it for me and Cricket, not for what everyone would think of me if I chose not to breastfeed.

I think all the dreams and doubt I had about breastfeeding were a window to allow me to see that I possibly wouldn't be able to do so.

and that I didn't need to feel like a total failure because of it.

I commend all mother's who can do it and so wish that I still could!

You are AMAZING!

and all the mother's that have chosen to use formula

 YOU are amazing!

We're all doing our best and our best is all we can offer.

I cannot tell you what a relief it has been to see Cricket getting chubby and plump.

I have chosen to pump (what I can) and supplement the rest and I feel really good about it.

 I feed my baby and I have not chosen to leave her to die.

So, I guess you could say I feel really good about that.

Until next time!

LATER.

We're all just a little crazy, mkay!

It's currently 12:27, on Wednesday, July 29th.

I just got out of the shower and managed to wash my hair- now let's see how long it takes before I put it up in a nasty top knot.

I'm sitting at the computer in my underwear. But that's not abnormal seeing as how I never have clothes on unless I have to go somewhere.

I haven't put any makeup AKA mascara (cause that's all I can manage) in, oh, 5 days? Who knows.

I've officially been a mom for 5 weeks and 3 days.

So

let's have a little back story, shall we?

We shall.

Tim and I were friends for, oh 4 years before we started dating.

I had a major crush on him on-and-off during those 4 years.

He was a MAJOR flirt and I hated it

(but secretly loved it)

I had finally, had enough.

I gave him the ultimatum.

Ask me out or knock it off!

The next day he invited me over and said he'd been thinking a lot about it and wanted to take me out.

I was TRIUMPHANT!

What I had always wanted!

We dated.

THE. BEST. DATES.

Seriously, this kid know's how to take a girl out!

It was magic,

and

then

I broke up with him.

I was scared and wanted to see what else was out there.

I dated a few guys, learned my lesson.

Tim waited. He said he would.

After my failed attempts to find someone better than Tim, 

I failed

Miserably.

Because, honestly, there is no one in the world better than him.

ANYWHERE.

Soon after we got back together, we went on a trip to Ireland with my brother and friend.

Whilst there

Gazing out into the deep, dark ocean waters

upon the Cliffs of Moher

He knelt down on one knee and proposed to me and asked for my hand in marriage.

COME

ON.

Dreamy, right!?

Not to brag (but really to brag) he's the BEST.

It was what every girl wishes for.

So, then we bought a house.

We renovated said house.

(ahem, he renovated the house, I sat on the couch and ate Twinkies)

We got married 

It was bliss.

Well,

besides the psychotic episodes from my birth control.

We had been married almost a year when I had a very bad day

I went to the temple to remove myself from the world for a few hours.

Whilst there, I was basically yelled at 

"you need to prepare to have a baby."

Um, no, God. That is definitely not in the plans right now!

We had plans to travel and enjoy our time just us two.

I hadn't told Tim, or anyone, about the prompting to prepare to bring a baby into the world for a few weeks, hoping that the feeling would diminish and I could go about my life as I had planned to.

Every day.

Every flipping day 

on my way to work

at the same turn

I got yelled at again.

"You need to prepare to have a baby"

NO.

NOPE.

LA LA LA

Not listening!

Finally I mustered up the guts to tell Tim.

That was the hard part.

Not because I thought he would be disappointed or upset.

But because saying it out loud made it real.

I told him I wanted to talk to him about something

Something important.

"You want to have a baby?" he said.

Um, ok, mind reader!

I told him I didn't really WANT to, but couldn't ignore the prompting any longer and 

if that's what God wanted us to do, we better listen and obey.

We listened, and we obeyed and by gosh, we got pregnant on the first unofficial attempt.

We weren't "trying" we were just putting it in God's hands.

and BAM

Baby.

I had a pretty flawless pregnancy. 

Like whoa.

No severe morning sickness

only gained 17 lbs 

(trust me, I don't know how cause I ate pie, ice cream, cake, you mention it, on the daily)

Never experienced or dealt with most symptoms of pregnancy besides being tired.

But that wasn't new, I've always enjoyed my sleep.

So, my 9 months were up.

I got induced at 39 weeks for past medical history reasons

I labored for about 9 hours total 

8:34 PM, June 21, 2015.

Surrounded by Tim and the most important women in my life

we welcomed the most beautiful little girl into the world.

Cricket Wray Sondrup

6.1oz and 20in long

Complete with red hair and a perfect dimple on her right cheek

When I pushed her out, they put her right on me and I held her while she gazed up at me.

As I looked back at her, I cried. Sobbed. Did I really just push you out of me!?

You are perfect.

But, why don't I feel like your mine? Why don't I love you?

WHY DO I NOT LOVE YOU?

All anyone ever told me was you'll never know a love like when you see your child for the first time.

I thought, maybe I was just exhausted. It had been a very long day.

I just needed time with just her and myself. 

To bond.

It just wasn't happening.

We took her home

I cared for her and gave her my constant love and attention.

But I knew something was wrong.

I went upstairs and barely made it onto my bed before breaking down in the ugliest sob.

Snot was flowing out, I could barely breath.

Tim came upstairs and held me as tight as he could.

I felt completely defeated.

What had I done?!

I can't be a mom.

I can't care for her if I don't love her.

Why do I feel this way?

It was that night that Tim and I packed our overnight bags and stayed with my parents

But rather than 1 night, we stayed for 2 weeks.

I couldn't bear the thought of going home with this little child.

I was able to care for her and give her what she needed but I just wasn't feeling that love still.

I went to my PP visit with my OB and she asked me how I was feeling.

I broke down sobbing again.

She had me take a test and I failed.

The only questions that I looked at and thought, oh heck no! were if I had thoughts of hurting myself or my baby.

The rest, those were a different story.

A concerning score is a 10 and I scored a 20.

She told me I had severe PPD, that I couldn't classify as Baby Blues.

I got put on Zoloft and within 3 days I noticed a significant difference.

I looked at Cricket and felt that love that I had craved for so long.

I could smile at her and have it be sincere.

She was such a content baby. Just a GEM.

I finally felt ok to go home.

I adjusted just fine.

We've been great!

I've had my occasional episodes where I just cry because I feel helpless...

My blog will be my outlet for those feelings.

Whether good or bad.

I'm not looking to become a famous "read my story!" blogger.

I'm just here to help myself by writing my experiences down.

If you read this whole freaking novel, I hope you enjoyed, or related, or if you think I'm a terrible mother for the thoughts I had, keep it to yourself please.

Like I said, this is a personal outlet for myself. If someone can relate or is experiencing similarities, I hope we can be respectful and encouraging to one another.

Thank you.

All my love, Kelsie.