motherhood

My body is diligently keeping me available for this baby by shutting down the part of my brain that usually wants to jump my husband. I can intellectually recall wanting sex - it just feels like this really foreign concept now.

If you are some sort of superhero, maybe you’ve actually been putting your exercise ball to good use in the weeks and months since you stopped referring to it as your “birthing ball.” But if you’re more like me, that ball has sat in the corner gathering dust, taking up precious space in increasingly cramped living quarters, and occasionally rolling across the floor to taunt you.

In less than two years, I went from the fast-paced life of having a full-time job, while attending graduate school and going out with my friends at night, to being married and a full-time stay-at-home mother. My life took a sudden 180-degree turn, and at times felt like it was standing still.

I still feel exactly like me. A more tired me, granted, but still me. I am not overwhelmed by a love for her I could never imagine (which I somehow feel guilty about at times, which is why you should read blogs with caution). I love her dearly and unconditionally – just as I imagined I would. But that is also how I love my husband, my mother, my sister, etc.

As I compare my body with other women expecting their second, or even third, I remind myself that this is my fifth child. I am OK. This is my fifth baby. My fourth pregnancy. I look normal for that. But to anyone else, I am a surprise. "Second trimester? Goodness, I thought you were almost due!"

As I compare my body with other women expecting their second, or even third, I remind myself that this is my fifth child. I am OK. This is my fifth baby. My fourth pregnancy. I look normal for that. But to anyone else, I am a surprise. "Second trimester? Goodness, I thought you were almost due!"

When we first received my son’s holoprosencephaly diagnosis, I asked why me? Why was this happening to our family? What did we do to deserve this? This is not what I pictured for my two boys. They would never be able to play together, as I had envisioned. Dustyn would always have to stick up for his little brother, protect and take care of him.

When we first received my son’s holoprosencephaly diagnosis, I asked why me? Why was this happening to our family? What did we do to deserve this? This is not what I pictured for my two boys. They would never be able to play together, as I had envisioned. Dustyn would always have to stick up for his little brother, protect and take care of him.