The Sacrifice

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Honestly, when my mother told me that I should go enjoy my young years before getting married and having children, I didn’t understand what she meant and why she was so insistent on drilling it in my head. But of course, little-miss-stubborn that I was, I didn’t listen. I thought to myself, “Why does life have to change once I get married? Can’t I continue enjoying my life with my husband? Can’t I enjoy life with my kids?”

You could. Just not the same way you used to. Not on your schedule. And certainly not when you want to. 

I’m pretty content with my life. I did everything any young kid did: I played, I met people, I travelled, I explored. And then I met my husband and fell in love. Got married at 22. I started sharing all my adventures with him. Of course it was different now because I had to accomodate his wants and needs into my schedule. No biggie. That’s life. What is life if you can’t share it with anyone? Except, I had never shared it with anyone. I never committed to anything because I couldn’t grasp the thought of ever adding anything else into my schedule. I was a happy young person ready to see the world! But it also got lonely and my husband reassured me that the adventures would continue. 

The adventures did continue. But not in the same reckless way that I was having them. Now we had to go with his schedule because that’s the type of person that I am. If there was anyone to share anything with, their needs came first, mine last. And since he had a pretty demanding job with long hours, I would never ask him to do anything if he looked tired or complained about being tired. Which seemed like all the time. The longer we were together, the less adventures I had. 

But that was okay, I thought. Because eventually it will return again. Because I love him more than the adventures. I love him more than living my younger years. 

And now, here we are, four years later, and he has given me one of the best gifts I could ever ask for; a son. I never even dreamed of being a mother for the same reason I never saw myself settling down and becoming a wife. 

First and foremost, let me just get this out there before I continue… I absolutely love my husband and son. Nothing on earth could ever compare to the love that I have for them. Nor could I even bear the thought of ever replacing my life now for anything else. 

The problem that I’m having with all of these new things? Everyday, I sacrifice. Everyday, I put my needs far to the bottom of the list; if it even makes it on the list. You see, when I gave birth to my amazing son, I took time off of work to get the hang of things and to take care of him and to be a 24 hour wife and mom. I’m still on maternity leave. Three months in, three months to go. And with only one income to support the three of us, that means my husband has to work even longer hours, 6 times a week. Which means that for that one day he’s not working, he’s resting. 

I’m the type that knows and realizes just how tired he is and that since he’s the only one supporting us financially, I have no right to even ask him for help at night. I let him sleep through all the chaos I experience with our son when he’s not feeling well, when he’s going through a growth spurt and just wants to cuddle with mommy, when he wants to play in the middle of the night. I honestly get no sleep. Because even when my son does finally fall asleep, I stay up getting the only time to catch up on all the chores around the house and to have some thinking time for myself. 

And even when I’m sick, I’m still the one staying up around the clock because I feel like I just have no right to ask for help. I feel like this is my duty. My sacrifice. As long as my husband and son are happy and well taken care of, whatever I’m feeling doesn’t matter. 

So when I’m sitting here, 5 o’clock in the morning, sniffling away from a cold, my son on my chest as he sleeps, and my husband on the other side of the bed snoring life away, I can’t help but think, how much more can I sacrifice of myself?

I don’t get to do what normal people do anymore. I don’t get to speak to adults. I don’t get to see my friends anymore. No one really likes to invite the “parents” anywhere. And if they ever do, we can never make it because my husband is too tired and I would just feel guilty going by myself. 

The adventures became less frequent when I got married. And now, with child, what adventures?

I love being a mom. I love knowing that my sacrifice isn’t for nothing. I know that one day my son won’t be so demanding anymore and life can ease back into normalcy. One day, my son will be all grown up and I can tell him stories about mommy’s adventures. And that one day, I’ll have mommy-daddy-and-son version of those adventures.

When my mom told me to enjoy my young years, I wish she had shared with me the sacrifices she made being a mom of 4. Maybe I would have taken a longer time before settling down. But then again, if I had done that, my family won’t be the family

So I guess, in a sense, this sacrifice is the sacrifice. No other sacrifices can compare. I’ll just wait for the day that I can have myself back… no matter how long that might take and how less of me that might be. 

‘Till next time,

Mommarch

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Trying to Relactate at Son’s 2nd Month

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So for those of you who’ve read my previous blogs, you know that I gave birth to my son at 35 weeks gestation. He was exactly a whole month early. 

The plan was to exclusively breastfeed, however, since he was premature, he had a bit of a hard time latching on correctly. His mouth was too small to open wide enough to get the whole aereola. Not just that but I didn’t get the immediate skin-to-skin contact with him as the NICU team had to take him away to do some testings before they handed him to me.

On top of all of that, I had the rudest nurse at the beginning and she was somehow the last nurse I had before we checked out. When my son and I were moved to the postpartum recovery room, the nurse that I had kept reminding me of how small my son was and that breastfeeding him at this point will not allow him to thrive and that since mothers’ milk takes time to build that I should go ahead and feed him formula. I was so annoyed with her but I did my best to ignore her and continued to pursue breastfeeding. I was constantly discouraged at the sight of very little milk coming out of my breasts (though I knew that all I was producing in the beginning was just colostrum and that’s perfectly fine). The nurse finally left after her shift and I was assigned a new nurse. The next four nurses that I had were okay. They weren’t completely horrible but I still didn’t feel as though I got the support that I needed for breastfeeding.

My son also had jaundice. So, our stay got extended and he was put under a special light for 24 hours. Within those 24 hours, the first nurse that I had returned for another shift and came back in to my room. As soon as she saw my son under the light, she said, “I knew you guys would be exteneded. Didn’t I tell you that he wasn’t going to thrive? I told you he needed formula. You’re not producing enough milk. Stop being selfish.” 

Oh yes. She definitely said that to me. Word for word. I will never forget that.  I will never forget how rude she was to me and how even when I had walked away from her as she continued to talk, she followed me to a corner of the room. I cried as she kept saying, “Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I say that you need to feed him formula?” I finally yelled at her and told her to get out of the room and to leave me alone. 

I couldn’t believe it. I was always told that breastmilk is best milk. And here is this nurse telling me that I needed to feed my son formula! 

By the way, I had done some research and they say that premie babies benefit the most, the MOST, out of mom’s breastmilk. 

Anyway, back to the subject. So after all this fighting with the nurse and watcing my son be under this light and not being able to hold him as he cried, I broke down. I felt like a complete failure. I felt like it was my fault that he was born too early. It was my fault that he had jaundice and that I was being selfish because I wanted to breastfeed. I had fallen into darkness. My husband had the hardest time trying to console me. It didn’t work.

First off, I had a pretty healthy pregnancy. Not one single complication, I had only gained 30 pounds, I was walking daily and eating healthier than I ever did my entire life. My water broke, not because I was doing anything extensive, it just broke. Many babies get jaundice: my 3 year old nephew who is perfectly healthy today, my best friend who had jaudince for 2 weeks and they even thought he was going to die but is now the smartest person I know, graduated with BA in architectural landscaping and is working his dream job.

The rude nurse that I had made it seem like I wasn’t going to leave the hospital with my baby if I didnt give him formula. I had broken down and felt useless. So I went ahead and said yes. Give him formula.

When we came home, I tried to breastfeed again but my son just kept crying like he wasn’t getting enough. And I remembered that rude nurse again. So I looked at my husband and said, “Can you buy him a bottle please and some forumla? I’m not good at this.” Being the supportive husband that he is, he went ahead and bought it.  And that was it, we were stuck with formula feeding and my motivation to breastfeed had dwindled.

I formula fed about 70% of the time and breastfed 30%. And then I got sick when he turned 3 weeks. Also the same time that my breast pump had broken down. I was never able to establish a good milk supply. My period had come in which drops your milk supply drastically.

He is now 2 months old. I have been working day and night trying to relactate and teach my son how to latch again. He’s able to latch (after a few minutes of fussing) but since there’s no milk coming out, he gets frustrated and pulls away. I’ve been doing a lot of research on relactating and relatching and it’s possible. Just have to keep pumping even if it’s dry, the stimulation will tell the breasts to produce. And have skin-to-skin time as much as possible. I’ve also been eating a lot of oatmeal and drinking lots of milkmaid tea.

It’s  difficult and discouraging at times but I am doing my best to persevere.

My son, born at 5 pounds, is now a heaping 11 pounds. His health is all I care about. There is nothing wrong with formula feeding, I just want him to benefit from my antibodies that formula cannot imitate. 

If there is anyone out there who may have experienced what I went through and was able to establish a good milk supply, please comment. Any advice on how to hang in there with breastfeeding is needed.

‘Till next time,

Mommarch

My Water Broke?! When?!

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Hi everyone! So on my last update, I was 34 weeks and having braxton hicks and pelvic pain. That was about 5 weeks ago. 

So let’s start at the beginning (brace yourselves, this is going to be a long one). 

My day started out pretty normal. My husband and I were at the hospital where I was going to give birth, taking a birthing class. The last time I was at the class, there was a girl there who was already 38 weeks which meant that last day we were there, she would’ve been 39 weeks. But we didn’t see her so ultimately, the other girls and I were thinking that she had already given birth. Halfway through the class, she walked in saying, “No, no. I’m still pregnant,” sounding annoyed. Though she was already 39 weeks and ready to pop, she still moved with finess and ease. And here I was, 35 weeks along and I had the hardest time getting from sitting position to a standing position. Asking my husband for help as if I was a child. 

It didn’t make sense. I was a lot smaller than her and yet, I felt like my son was digging his head into my pelvis. At the end of the class, we were given a certificate. 
My husband and I went home and I got ready to go to the mall with a friend. My friend picked me up from the house around 3 p.m. As I got in her car, I told her, “I’ve been leaking for the past hour or so. But I don’t feel any pain so maybe I’m just peeing myself.” She giggled and told me to make sure I don’t give birth at the mall. 

We walked around for hours, shopping for nursing bras and other necessities. Then we decided to have dinner at a pizzeria. She constantly asked if I was still leaking and I told her yes, but still no cramping. 

After dinner, she dropped me off. I told my husband what had been going on all day and the first thing he said is, “Maybe your water broke. Let’s go to the hospital now.” And being Ms. Little Stubborn, I told him, “No, I think I’m okay. I don’t think it’s my water because it said online that it should smell sweet and I should have some cramping. This doesn’t smell like anything and I don’t feel any cramps.” He said, “I’m giving you one hour. If you’re still leaking, we’re going. No debate.”

So I laid down for an hour. I stood up and the leak was even heavier. I looked at my husband and said, “Okay, let’s go.” As he put his jeans on then helped me put my shoes on, I thought to myself, “Maybe I should pack my bag.” 

(Yes, I was 35 weeks and still did not have my bag ready. In fact, I didn’t even have anything ready for the baby because I was waiting for the babyshower which was scheduled for my 36th week.)

I don’t know why but I somehow talked myself into leaving the house empty handed. 

My husband drove to the hospital. He parked, we walked, even got lost inside the hospital. When we finally made it to Labor and Delivery, I told the ladies at the front desk that I’d been leaking for nearly 7 hours but I wasn’t sure if it was my water or I was just peeing myself. They checked me in, gave me a gown, and strapped me with the baby heart monitor and contractions monitor. 

The nurse put her gloves on and checked me. As she pulled her hand out she said, “Well you’re 5cm.” In shock, I said, “Wait what?! What does that mean? I’m only 35 weeks.” She told me I was going to have the baby today. I looked at my husband in disbelief. Once we gathered our thoughts, we called our family to share the news. 

I was in labor for 25 hours and pushed for 20 minutes. I didn’t feel a thing in those 25 hours. In fact, the nurses thought how odd it was that every time they walked past my room, all they heard was laughter. I didn’t take any epidural. It was the plan since day one. But the nurses kept insisting that I take it because once I hit 8 cm, there’s really no turning back. 

I told them I’ll take my chances. 

I watched the contractions monitor and every time I had a contraction, I’d tell my husband, “Oh, there’s one! I didn’t feel it though.” They even gave me oxytocin to speed up the process since my baby was at risk for infection. 

I finally reached 8 cm on my 20th hour. Still no pain. 9 cm at my 23rd hour. And 25 hours later, I felt a pop in my body and I turned to my husband, “Push the button, push the button!”

All hell broke lose. 

Though the button was right next to me, my body froze in excruciating pain. I started to scream and I couldn’t stop shaking. My body had gone into shock. My mom held my right leg down as I had lost control of it. It shook all over the place. My husband held my hand. Nervous about the whole thing. The nurse kept telling me not to push. But I couldn’t stop. How in the world do you stop something that’s literally moving on its own? The breathing technique I had learned from the class worked no magic whatsoever. 

I pushed and the doctor wasn’t there yet. The nurses kept telling me to stop pushing. My mom said just push, she could see the head crowning. I yelled at the nurses, “Stop yelling at me! I can’t stop pushing!!!”

And that was it, their once most favorite patient had turned into a monster. 

I looked at my husband and he looked like he was in labor too. 

The doctor finally walked in and I gave my final push. 

Out came my son. I felt everything. My son slipping out, the umbilical cord coming out, the doctor stitching me up, the placenta coming out. I felt every. single. thing…

The NICU team was there to check my son. He was okay and was then handed to me. 

He was and still is, the most precious thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. I had loved him the moment the pregnancy test came back positive. And here I was, 8 months later, and I was holding him. 

I cried, my husband kissed my forehead as he held my son’s head, and we had become my perfect little family. 

35 weeks and 4 days of pregnancy, 25 hours of labor, and 20 minutes of pushing. All for one tiny little angel.  

 

34 Weeks and Braxton Hicks

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Hi guys! 

If you can’t see my featured image clearly, this is what it says…

You may feel occasional cramps in your belly. Dont worry. These are “braxton hicks” contractions, imaginary pain caused by an imaginary unicorn repeatedly stabbing you in your imaginary uterus. 

Before I do my weekly update, I’d just like to ask: what the heck do people think when they tell a pregnant lady, “OMG you’re so big!!!” I’d like to know, would you ever go up to a heavy, non-pregnant person and tell them, “OMG, you’re sooooo big!” 

No. 

At least, if you were a sane person with conscience, I don’t think you would. So why is it that when you see a pregnant lady, you automatically throw all your manners out the window and say rude things like that? 

Most of the rude comments I get, I’ve learned to brush off. But when it comes from someone I don’t even know, it makes me question why being rude to pregnant ladies seems to be a common thing. I’m not the only one asking this question. I’ve read plenty of other ladies blogging about this. 

Anyway, enough about that rant. Comment below and let me know what you guys think. 

So back to 34 weeks and braxton hicks. I had the worst two days and nights so far. My husband was so ready to take me to the hospital but being that I’m such a workaholic, I made sure I didn’t step out of that door without it being completely necessary on a weekday. I changed positions, I walked around until the contractions literally stopped me, I laid down, I drank a lot of water… and nothing helped. They kept coming and going and coming. I was in so much pain that I started to sweat so much and got dizzy. My husband kept saying, “Let’s go. Forget working in the morning. Let’s just go.” But I knew, this can’t be it. It’s way too early and I’ve had a pretty healthy pregnancy. So this can’t be it…

But boy, did I sure think it could’ve been it. While having crazy braxton hicks, I would get online and read about all the different feelings you could feel and the different types of contractions such as braxton hicks, preterm contractions… There were just sooooo many matching information with preterm contractions. 

But they did say, from then, it could be another 2-3 weeks before the real deal. So I didn’t want to risk missing a day of work just to be in the hospital for the fake contractions. I didn’t want to do that again since I’ve already done it on Mother’s Day and stayed for 4 hours only to find out, bleeding after sex is normal😒. 

And now I’m highly convinced that these braxton hicks are just that, they’re just braxton hicks, also known as practice contractions. And that I may have just overworked myself the last few days. It should go away…

And then day two came. It was worst than day one. I didn’t go to the hospital. Because I’m stubborn I guess? But I just know, it can’t be it. 

I’m okay now. It’s been about 12 hours since the last episode. 

Those braxton hicks, however in denial I may be, they got me hella nervous for the real thing. I’m really shooting for a natural birth. But I’m scared now that if I’m already squirming at these practice contractions, how am I going to handle a natural birth?! 

For those ladies that have gone through their first birth and did it naturally, please do comment and let me know how you were able to just go through it. I need wisdom!!!

‘Till next time,

Mommarch

33 Weeks, 7 More To Go, with Pelvic Discomfort

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33 weeks, 7 weeks to go… When my husband and I found out we were having a baby, I was only 7 weeks along. And now, we’re on the opposite side of that… and I can’t even begin to express the excitement and anxiety that’s all bundled up in me right now.

My featured image is pretty much what I feel like I should look like everyday. I have SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction), which is simply put as PELVIC PAIN. I don’t know how many women experience this but it pretty much feels like my pelvic bone will separate any minute now.

I’ve done a lot of reading on this and I feel I should at least share how to relieve the pain (from BabyCenter):

  • Do pelvic floor and tummy exercises. Get down onto your hands and knees and level your back so that it is roughly flat. Breathe in and then as you breathe out, squeeze in your pelvic floor muscles and pull your belly button in and up. Hold this contraction for between five and 10 seconds, breathing through it. Relax your muscles slowly at the end of the exercise.
  • Try not to move your legs apart when your back is slumped or when you are lying down. Take care when getting in and out of the car, bed or bath. If you are lying down, pull your knees up as far as you can to stop your pelvis from moving and make it easier to part your legs. If you are sitting, try arching your back and sticking your chest out before parting or moving your legs.
  • Don’t push through your pain. If something hurts, stop doing it. If the pain is allowed to flare up, it can take a long time to settle down again.
  • Move little and often. You may not feel the effects of what you are doing until later in the day or after you have gone to bed.
  • Rest regularly by sitting on a birth ball or by getting down on your hands and knees. This takes the weight of your baby off your pelvis and holds it in a stable position.
  • Try not to do heavy lifting or pushing. Supermarket trolleys can often make your pain worse, so shop online or ask someone to shop for you.
  • When climbing stairs, take one step at a time. Step up onto one step with your best leg and then bring your other leg to meet it. Repeat with each step.
  • Avoid swimming breaststroke and take care with other strokes. You may feel swimming is helping your pain while you are in the water, but it could make you feel worse when you get out.
  • When getting dressed, sit down to pull on your knickers or trousers.

Now I do my best to do most of these, I definitely do pelvic floor exercises and I definitely HAVE to sit down when I put my pants on. But the resting part is really difficult for me. I don’t know why, but I just can’t get myself to rest. All I want to do is work, work, work… or clean, clean, clean. I can’t even imagine how I’m going to handle my maternity leave, I get bored sooooo easily. But I know I have to take it easy these last few weeks. My husband keeps telling me to just take it easy and he’ll take care of everything but I just can’t let myself sit around and be a bum.

Is it okay for me to sit around and be a bum? He says, yes, definitely, sit around, be a bum, be lazy, ’cause when Kaiden is born, that’s it, no more room for laziness. I guess I just have to take it as easy as possible because it has become such a hassle moving around, getting in and out of the car, turning when laying down.

I’m just in a lot of, I wouldn’t say pain, more like discomfort. Oh, and they said “Don’t push through your pain.” But that’s the type of person I am. I push through the pain and it’s something I’ve always done since I was young. I can’t seem to turn that off. Hopefully it’ll stick through labor too.

But other than all this pelvic “discomfort”, I finally finished making my baby shower invitations. I made everything from scratch. I made a total of 20 invitations which most of them are couples and some have kids so I’m expecting a big turnout. Especially with my brothers’ friends. They’ve always treated me as the baby sister of the group so they’re all very excited to see me big and pregnant. The last time they saw me, I was only 6 months pregnant and was still able to dance around like no one was watching. And now, I can barely get up from a sitting position and walking right away.

I’m super excited yet overwhelmed by this baby shower. I didn’t get any help. My so-called “best friend” and I have been falling out of our friendship the moment I told her I was pregnant. I don’t know what it was, it just seemed like our relationship took a turn for its worst and I couldn’t get it back. She and my little sister was supposed to plan this whole baby shower and nothing happened. And knowing me, I couldn’t let that happen. I had to take over. So I did. And now I think they’re mad at me for doing that ??? Either way, what the hell do you expect me to do, just sit here and cross my fingers they did something? No way, I like plans, and I like to follow through with my plans.

But that’s just my rant for now. I don’t know if anyone in my life really understands the loneliness I feel everyday. I know that at the end of all of this, I will have a beautiful, healthy, wonderful gift in my arms but at the meantime, it’s dreadful. No one wants to hang out with the lady who can’t walk or the one who makes moaning sounds every time she stands up, or the lady who you can’t smoke around.

I was asked a few days ago, “What do you want to do before the baby is born?” I couldn’t say it out loud, but all I want to do is go out, hang out with friends, talk to people, mostly other pregnant ladies, and just be around those who will understand how I’m feeling. I mean, of course, my husband is great, can’t complain. BUT, I would like to be around more ladies who’ve been through what I’ve been through and wouldn’t sit there simply saying, “Just you wait…”

Anyway, if you have any insights, please feel free to comment. I would like some feedback. Is it just me who feels this way? This is my first pregnancy and it’s starting to become the scariest thing I can’t runaway from (and no, I don’t actually want to run away from my beautiful son, I love him to death, I love the thought of being a mom, and I love the thought that my husband and I will finally have our own little family after being married for 4 years). I’m just scared of being on my own through these last few weeks.

‘Till next time,
Mommarch

32 Weeks and still enjoying it

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Hi guys. Been awhile since I posted anything here. Maybe a month??

Anyway, I am now 32 weeks and well underway to labor any day now. My mom recently purchased some items for the nursery and might I say, it looks great. All I need now are some curtains and the room will finally look like a room. 

I ask myself everyday though, I don’t think I’m going to feel comfortable enough to leave Kaiden in his own room for at least the first few weeks, so is it really necessary to buy all these things for the nursery at this time? I feel like I should be preparing my bedroom for his arrival. I want to get a bassinet and a changing table for sure. But I want to wait until after the babyshower to really start buying stuff.

Oh and speaking of the babyshower, my 19 year old sister insisted that she would take care of the party for me since she didn’t get a chance to throw me a bridal shower or a bachelorette party. She wanted, along with my best friend, to handle EVERYTHING. And I am not one to procrastinate on things especially when I know it’s gonna take some planning and creating invitations and whatnot. 

We are one month away from the babyshower and not one single thing was done by her. She hasn’t even called or asked me anything about it. So I took matters into my own hands and did all the gathering of the addresses of my invitees, started creating invitations from scratch (I love arts & crafts and figured this was the best way I was going to have the look that I really wanted), called and reserved chairs, tables, and canopies to rent, my mom is taking care of the food and the giveaways, and my sister-in-law is getting the cake. Not one single thing done by my sister or best friend. 

Such care right?

Well, whatever their reason may be, I’m just glad I’ll be able to send the invitations out this week. I was soooo overwhelmed these past few weeks given that I started getting stretch marks 2 weeks ago😢, I was getting everything lined up for work before my leave, and getting the house ready for the baby. No help but my husband’s help. 

And this is how it’s going to be when Kaiden is born. I’m going to have to take better care of myself on top of taking care of a newborn. I would rather just forget about myself and have all energy for Kaiden but if I don’t take care of myself, Kaiden won’t have anyone to take care of him. And I also have to take care of my husband. 

This is life now. Stretch marks, family, cooking and cleaning. I’m still enjoying pregnancy since I don’t have to run around the house between chores and a baby. Baby’s attached to me (for the time being). And don’t get me wrong, moving around has definitely become a challenge but I’ve found a way to modify my actions without getting hurt. 

Oh and to talk about moving around, my last two appointments, I didn’t gain weight. Now if you’ve read any of my posts before, I was starting to become insecure about my weight so seeing this no gain pattern made me a little happy… until the nurse told me if I don’t see any weight gain at my next appointment, it could be a problem and we’ll need to check on Kaiden. 

What??! Last time, they gave me such a hard time about being 4 lbs over the weight gain calculator and now I’m getting heat over keeping my weight down (because I’ve been going on walks daily and eating better). I guess you can’t please everybody right?

I see myself in the mirror, I see my stretch marks… and to me, I look good. I don’t look big. Maybe my thighs could lose a few inches but I don’t look heavy. But then I walk outside and the closest people in my life (not including my husband) says I look BIG. Like ready to give birth today BIG. 

I mean, c’mon people… I’m growing a freaking human being in here. Give me a break!

I don’t know. I’m happy when I’m by myself with my husband. Other people are just offensive😒. 

‘Till next time,

Mommarch

Why I’d Rather Not Speak

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It’s really sad when I hear someone say, “I’d rather not say…”

Why is it sad? Because they’re afraid of whatever may come out of their mouth, you’ll either judge or simply not hear.

That’s my fear. Most of the time, I stay quiet. That’s why I have this blog, so I can speak what’s really going on in my mind without being judged negatively, or so I think I’m not being judged. And even if I was being judged, it’s not being said straight to my face by the people I “thought” loved me.

I live my life pretty lonely. People make fun of my choices, people like to mock me for how I feel, for what I believe in. And no matter how badly I get treated, I still stick to my ways. And why do I have people like that in my life, you ask? Well, they’re my family. I kind of can’t get away from them. I’d love to, don’t get me wrong, because it seems like I have no support from anyone in my family.

No, scratch that, my parents are not at all supportive about ANYTHING I do with my life. My siblings however are pretty neutral. It’s really my parents that I hate having around with me. Whether it was moving out at 17 (because who the hell can live with people who can’t support you), going to college too early (what parents wouldn’t be proud of their kid going to college early?! Mine), and having multiple jobs to support herself and never asking for handouts from anyone and being motivated to live life on her own because no one ever showed her enough care.

Last night was my father’s birthday. And (not at all) to my surprise, my mother, my husband, and I were the only ones there. My other siblings didn’t show up because, wellllll, who can blame them, really? My parents, especially my father, has never really shown any of us love. My mother, OCCASIONALLY, but my father, not in the least.

And so, as my husband and I sat there listening to my father make rude comments to our hot waitress and my mother just giggling with embarrassment, my husband and I stared at each other with embarrassment too. We only showed up because I’m the guilty type who, even for the life of me, I will be there for anyone even if it hurts me.

So as my mother questioned me about the upcoming baby shower and all the stuff I had, so-called, procrastinated on, I just rolled my eyes. She thinks I’m procrastinating because I haven’t purchased a whole wardrobe of clothes for my unborn son yet. My reason, I’m waiting for the baby shower. I don’t want to have too many clothes that my son will not be able to wear. Think about it, infants grow out of their newborn clothes pretty quickly. And to top it off, my sister-in-law just had a baby and she wants to give me all of the clothes her son never got to wear as a newborn. So no, I am not procrastinating, I am simply trying to save my money for more important things that I can’t get as a hand down, such as a baby seat and stroller.

Oh, and the problem she has about the baby shower; it’s weeks away from my son’s due date. I had to explain to her why it was August 1st and not any time in July. I can only do weekends since my husband and I both work weekdays. So all four of my weekends in July is already filled with Lamaze classes. And sure enough, who had a stupid comment about me choosing to take Lamaze? My highly opinionated father. He said while laughing, “Really? Did you ever take classes on how to give birth to any of our children?!” He said while looking at my mother. And sure enough, my mother laughed hysterically. My husband knew I was fuming with anger so he rubbed my back to keep me calm. He knows that the moment I let it get to me, I would explode right in the middle of the restaurant. And he didn’t want that. He didn’t want me stressing out especially this last trimester of my pregnancy.

I simply told my parents, “It’s free and I WANT to take it. So what if you didn’t do it. At least I’m taking the time to learn the way I WANT TO LEARN, and my husband will be there for every second of it. At least I have him there to support me every step of the way. Was dad ever there for any of our births?! No.”

And I pulled my husband and left the restaurant.

I’m sick of people degrading me for my choices. I’m sick of my so-called best friend laughing at me for signing up for Lamaze classes and taking a tour of the hospital or even reading everything I can read about pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood. This is how I’ve always been. I research what I’m about to do or what I’ve gotten myself into. It’s my way of calming the situation down. It’s my way of knowing, even the least amount of motherhood. I like reading about other new moms’ experiences so that I have something I can feel connected to. I like reading about childbirth experiences so I know that everything IS going to be okay. That I don’t need to freak out about every little detail because at the end, it will all be okay.

Yet, the closest people in my life has since shown me that they are the least people to trust with my emotions. So I’d rather not speak about anything I’m going through anymore. Seems like my husband is the only one I can speak to nowadays.

And this whole time, I’ve done everything I could to make everyone around me happy, to make everyone proud of me. And I only reached one person, my husband.

I’m not hear to make you guys feel pity for me. I just want you to know, that if you’re feeling this way right now and you’re pregnant and feeling alone, you’re not alone. I’m sure we’re not the only ones feeling like this. Married or not, this type of loneliness does exist.

‘Till next time,
Mommarch

Balloonish

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So a few months ago, before I got pregnant, going out and having my picture taken was the most fun thing in the world. I’d be with my friends and family, and I would feel and look great.

Now, when I see myself in pictures, I just look BIG. But it’s weird because when I look at myself in the mirror, I look good. My husband thinks so too. It’s just these darn cameras that are not making me look good, no matter what angle 😦 

I am 26 weeks, 151 lbs… I am either in the perfect range of weight gain OR I am over 4 lbs the range. I honestly don’t remember how much I weighed pre-pregnancy. My chart shows 128 lbs, which would make me 4 lbs over, BUT, that was the time I was bouncing around between 128 and 132 lbs. So does it really matter about those extra 4 lbs? 

I should probably just accept the fact that I’m a balloon right now and it’s because I’m growing a baby in me. But how am I going to look for my maternity photos in a few weeks. 

Am I crazy for worrying?

What not to say to a pregnant lady

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Yes, this is my first pregnancy, no, I’m not oblivious to what comes after pregnancy. 

I saw my mom go through it with my little sister, I experienced my sister-in-law’s every antagonizing moments when she had my niece, and I’ve heard plenty of stories from friends. I know it’s going to be difficult. But I also know that I’m the type to do hard things and not complain about it. I know I’m a fighter and I do the best I can to make the best out of the worst situations. 

Every single time people ask me about my pregnancy, and I speak with a smile on my face, I get so annoyed when they say, “Just you wait. Everything is downhill from here.”

Uhm, no. I don’t see it that way AT ALL. I may not have everyone’s luxury of having parents and in-laws around for help, but I see this whole pregnancy as a blessing, not as a burden. And if all you have is negativity towards MY OWN pregnancy, then please, do everyone a favor, and leave me alone. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for me and my husband, who, by the way, is the most supportive person in my life. 

Is it wrong of me to be so positive about my life? No. Because it’s MY LIFE, not yours.

Call me naive for being so positive about my son who will be here in 3months, call me stupid for being so happy about being a mom, call me ridiculous for not believing how miserable I’m going to be… it doesn’t matter because you’re not the one who will be cuddling with a cute little baby in your arms… I am. And I will ALWAYS see it as a blessing… whether he’s laughing hysterically or crying like a monster… he will be my son and I will love him through ups and downs.  

 

I heard him say…

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A few days ago, I heard one of my husband’s co-workers asking him, “So, how do you like working day shifts and losing that 10%?”

LET’S START AT THE BEGINNING:
In the few years I’ve known my husband, he had always worked evening shifts. He’d been working for his company for 11 years. When we started dating, I never had an issue with his schedule. Even though I missed him very much, I knew his schedule very well so I knew what I was getting myself into… I had already mentally prepared for it.

So when we got married, I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to not have him at home. What changed? Why was I okay with his schedule when we were simply just dating? I guess the thought of needing him around more than usual sunk in the moment I walked down that aisle. The thought of, “What am I going to do without him when we start having kids?”

Last year, way before we even knew we were going to have a baby this year, he requested to be moved to day shift… it took a few months for his company to decide but they finally gave it to him in March 2015. When we found out we were having a baby in December 2014, I couldn’t imagine being home by myself with the baby at night while he worked long hours to provide for his family.

But now that he’s been transferred to day shift, after being in night shift for almost 11 years, I couldn’t bear the thought of “What if he’s been so used to working nights and he doesn’t like the day shift?” Back when we were younger, he would always say things like, “You make much more at night; you get 10% more than day shift, you get overtime hours like crazy, and you don’t have time or places to go to at night to waste your money on.” So it always felt to me like night shift was the shift for him. And at one point, I agreed with him.

But then, I remember him telling me one night, “What’s the point of having all this money if you don’t have time to spend it with your loved ones?” Weeks later, he asked to be transferred to day shift.

So when I heard his co-worker asking him the dreaded question that I was too afraid to ask him, I was even more afraid of the answer.

He answered, “I love it! I get to go home, spend time with my wife, cook with her, play around with her. At night, by the time I came home, she’d be asleep. And in the morning, she’d be gone before I even woke up. I never saw her ’till the weekend. It was as if we were in a long distance relationship.” His co-worker said, “What? You’re the first guy I’ve ever heard speak about spending time with his wife like you do.” My husband said, “She’s my best friend.”

And that was it… that’s the line I never thought I would ever here from him. I mean, I knew we’re madly in love with each other, I knew how happy we both were in this marriage. Never in my mind that doubt had ever crossed. But if you’ve never really heard it, how sure can you be? It’s like when you know your parents love you because they’re you’re parents but they never really say it. It’s just nice to hear. So for me to hear him tell his co-worker, without knowing I was listening, that I was his best friend, I fell deeper in love. No one had ever spoken about me like that before. I never knew how happy he truly was.

And now I do. Which makes me so happy because I know that my son is going to grow up with so much love around him, unlike my husband and I, who grew up in the type of environment where love was never shown. I want to show my son that you can be a man and be loving too. It’s not one or the other, it’s BOTH.

‘Till next time,
Mommarch