I read a lot of blogs, articles, and magazines about being a mommy. I had to quit reading labor and delivery books and blogs before Livia was born because I freaked myself out. Reading how my body would change, the possibility of pooping during delivery and how my relationship with Mark would change all scared me. It was like I was going to become Frankenstein. Some weird mashed together version of me that was some parts me but some parts someone else.

I knew going into mommy world that things would change. That it would no longer be about me. But I didn't really know. I don't think anyone can really prepare for what it's like. I never really 'bonded' with my baby while she was baking away in my belly. That took along time for me to admit to myself, let alone out loud. I vaguely remember the first time I admitted that to a friend, and it was such a huge relief when they said they never really did either. Up until that moment, I felt like I was a bad mommy. I felt like that because I had read all these stories from moms who felt an immediate connection, who sang to their bellies, that read bedtimes stories every night. I tried that and I felt silly. Then your mind starts spiraling out of control thinking things like 'now my baby will fall behind in preschool because I didn't read her nursery rhymes while she was kicking my bladder every night'.

Livia was born in April 2015. She was perfect, but I may be biased. When they finally put her in my arms I was so overwhelmed with exhaustion and shock I didn't know what to think or do. I just kind of teared up. But I didn't feel that immediate bond. I felt like someone had just handed me their child and said 'here mind holding her for a second'. But that second turned into hours, days and I realized there's no returning her. She's ours, for the long run....for like ever.


When we finally came home from the hospital it was kind of like 'now what?' I thought I had bought everything we needed, but Mark immediately had to go to the store to get different bottles and formula. I felt like a bit of a failure for not being prepared with everything she needed. When Mark left all I kept thinking was  'please don't cry please don't cry' over and over. Not sure who I was saying that to...me or Livia.

I was fortunate and stayed very active while I was pregnant. Lots of walks, yoga and cycling until the day she was born. That still didn't prepare me for the tummy that still looked like I was 6 months pregnant, my boobs that hurt because of them being full of milk, the uncomfortableness of going to the bathroom, and looking like I had been hit by a truck because I was so exhausted. All I kept thinking through all of this was 'I want (i.e. need) to get back into my pre-pregnancy jeans'. Thoughts about what I looked like consumed my brain, when they should have been thinking about how I had this awesome, gorgeous little girl that left me speechless.

I decided very early on that breastfeeding wasn't for me, for a variety of reasons. It really isn't anybody's business except mine (and maybe Mark's). But every once in awhile I think 'did I set her up for failure by not breastfeeding?' But I that thought flies out the window pretty quick when Mark gets up with her at 2:00 a.m. to feed her. And I'm so glad I'm not 'tied' to the house or Livia. That I can go to dinner and a movie or have a glass of wine and know she is going to be ok.


And why is it that moms compare themselves to each other?! I compare myself to celebrity moms who look amazing 3 days after baby (when they have trainers, chefs, and probably more Spanx on than the Oscars red carpet). I compare myself to my friends who have kids even. I think that my friends who have 3-4 kid make it look so easy. But Lord knows they've had longer to practice then me.

It totally sucks that I had thoughts like that. It makes me so mad that I let those thoughts creep into my mind. It still makes me mad that I struggled to get that mommy/baby connection with Livia.

But even though I know I shouldn't let those thoughts take over my brain, I still feel like I'm failing most days.

I adore Livia, but I still look at the clock each evening around 7:00 p.m. and think 'is it bedtime soon?' I wanted to make cute Pinterest treats for daycare's Halloween Party, but it took major organized effort on my part to get the necessary components. By the time I did I was ready to just say 'F it!'. I should clean the house more, fold the laundry quicker, workout more, take our dog for more walks, plan family outings, have people over more often, make Livia's baby food vs. buy it (I have a whole Pinterest board mocking me about that one)...the list goes on and on.

To this day, I still struggle with the idea that I don't have to (or want to) do it all. I can live off of clean clothes from the laundry basket (that are unfolded and not put away). The dishes will be there tomorrow. The toys will just be pulled back out of their tubs and baskets tomorrow. And I love wine and pizza too much to worry about being a size 4 again. And most days, my workout is picking Livia up 100 times (my arms have never looked so good!).

I still think 'please don't cry please don't cry' (a mantra for both Livia and me)...but I need my new mantra to be 'I can do this I can do this'.

There is no supermom. There is only the real mom. And the real mom is brace, tenacious, funny, crazy, excited, tired, giving, crying, hoping, loving, challenging, working, worn out, loving life, loving those kids, and amazing. Real moms are amazing. Normal moms are amazing. You, the mom who loves and gives and cares for her kids, are fabulous simply because you are mom.