So here goes. My first ever blog post. I can finally get all the words out of my head (and heart). First let me tell you a little about me. I’m Amanda… Christ-follower, mom to three boys, wife to my sweet husband of seven years, neat freak (borderline OCD), coffee drinker and in desperate need of wisdom from my gracious God who gives me strength to mother these boys each and every day. I’m not a writer or even very creative… I’m just a mom who is looking to express herself in writing from time to time in hopes that someone can relate… I need to be encouraged and to be an encourager. This mothering job can get lonely and demand so much from us. Some days I feel like there’s nothing left to give because I’ve already given it all away. But there are still these thoughts running through my mind that are aching to come out. Even if no one ever reads these words, at least they are here. Right here on this page, for whoever to see… and maybe there’s a mama who can relate…who’s sitting on her bed like I am right now, just wanting to make sense of it all. I’m writing from my heart with complete honesty. Expect spelling and grammar errors (remember I’m not really a writer or a blogger for that matter). Just need an outlet to express these mama feelings.
Let me tell you a bit about my experiences with having children (you know, the actual pregnancies, labors and deliveries). I’ll keep it brief, I promise. I don’t have any horror stories, but was quite blessed in this department.
Baby number one, now almost six years old… my husband and I found out we were expecting number one after only a few months of marriage. Easy-peasy pregnancy, with no major pregnancy symptoms other than an aching back and tiredness. The labor and delivery was much the same. I had a wonderful epidural that allowed me to lay back, relax and push a few times before a little golden-haired child popped out, wailing, pink and healthy. Baby boy number one. So exciting, so fun! So much time spent preparing his sweet little nursery in our two-bedroom duplex, getting pregnancy pictures done with my big belly and smiling husband, baby showers and all the fun stuff that comes along with preparing for a baby. So when he popped out and the nurses carried him away to be cleaned off and swaddled I thought “Okay, this wasn’t so bad… this might be pretty manageable.” Let me go on about this misconception. In the hospital I gladly let those sweet nurses bring my baby into my room to nurse then roll him away back to the nursery when he was done. This way I could get some much needed rest and sleep. Meals in bed, nurses catering to my every need and lots of pretty flowers and balloons! What’s not to love. So when they told me I was ready to be discharged from the hospital, I was in for a shock that first night. I remember like it was yesterday thinking that the baby might wake up a couple times during the night, nurse then go back to sleep. No biggie. Yeah right! Baby number one was strong-willed from the moment he was born. There were no nurses that night to roll my crying baby back to the nursery. Only me. I figured my tired husband needed to rest and being a strong-willed mom I wanted to do it BY MYSELF. That was the longest night of my life. I did not, in any way, feel prepared for that night, which was the first of many sleepless nights. Nights spent dozing in a rocking chair, praying that the baby would just sleep. Desperate for sleep. My strong-willed baby did eventually start sleeping and I started to get the hang of things. He is now my strong-willed six-year-old and is teaching me more about myself (the good and bad) than I ever thought I’d learn. God bless his sweet, tender heart and Lord help me shape his will. Thank you Dr. Dobson (Google him if you don’t know who I’m talking about). By the way, does that period go inside the parentheses or outside? Who knows.
Baby number two. Another relatively easy pregnancy. However I was deceived by that lovely epidural with baby number one. Baby number two rocked my world with his speedy entrance into this world. Total time between the onset of labor and holding my baby: 70 minutes. He shot out like a rocket and is still running to this day! I felt the first pain of labor shortly after midnight and woke my sleepy husband up to tell him it’s time to go. He nonchalantly got out of bed and proceeded to run a hot bath because he was cold (don’t kill me for telling this honey). I not-so-sweetly let the water out and asked him in a not-so-nice-voice to call his dad and step-mom, pull the car out and get the hospital bag. By the time we got to the hospital it was time to push. I asked the nurse for my epidural and pain meds like the last time… they refused me saying it was too late and that I had to push. My response “I CAN’T DO THAT!” By that point my body was pushing whether my mind wanted me to or not and with screams that were worthy of a movie screen my baby boy number two was born. To this day he’s still just as fast and furious as the day he was born.
Baby number three. Hold on, let me rephrase. Surprise baby number three. Baby number two was only eight months old when we found out that baby number three was on his way. Oh. My. Word. I remember crying on the phone with the OB nurse telling her “I can’t have another baby when I already have a baby!” She consoled me and told me it would be okay. It took months to come to grips with the fact that baby number three was on his way. If you know me then you understand that surprises aren’t really my thing. I like to be prepared, I like to plan things and I like to know what to expect. I was out of my comfort zone and felt like I was freefalling. After several months and a lot of soul searching I started to see God working in ways that I hadn’t previously seen. He was up to something big and good and this baby was coming for a reason. He knew we needed something (or someone) to rock our world, change things up and make us need Him, really need Him. Baby boy number three arrived on Halloween day. The onset of labor was gentle and uneventful… we made it to the hospital in plenty of time for an epidural and I enjoyed a relaxing, easy delivery as sweet baby boy number three entered our lives. This surprise blessing that would change me from the inside out. Sweet baby boy number three is still just as sweet, easy and gentle as the day he was born. More about how his arrival into our family changed me at a later time.
So up until number three I was a working mom. Working 45-50 hours a week, my children in daycare and I was just trucking along, busy as a bee thinking my life was on course. We decided that I should stay home with the boys after number three was born due to the cost of daycare and because I would basically have two babies to care for and that needed their mama. There’s much to say about the transition from full-time working mother to stay-at-home mother (I now refer to my role as a homemaker). This is for another post.
So now you know a little more about me and my family and how I came to be a mother. This is only the start to my story, but I hear the beginnings of a hungry cry from my now eight-month-old baby number three. Duty calls and I’m off to prepare a bottle.
Until next time.