STORY TIME... being a mom means SACRIFICE!

I've faced a lot of challenges since the moment I found out I was going to be a mommy. I was excited because I've always loved taking care of children, but I was also afraid. I never understood why I was scared.

My first pregnancy was great, but one day, I needed to use the bathroom. I felt an overwhelming pressure while I was on the toilet, and I saw blood. I thought, "No! It can't be!". I called out for someone in my home, and my mother rushed me to the hospital. Thankfully, they took me in on time and did some tests. My baby was fine, but I was dilated 1 cm, and it was a little early in my pregnancy to have dilated. They did assure me that it's common in some women, but that I should refrain from any strenuous activities. I was on bed rest, but as a soon to be mom, you can't just sit around. I was always in Mama Bear mode. Deep cleaning, cooking, laundry work, and just stressing out if my abode was ready for a baby. Sure enough, 2 weeks later, after my visit to the hospital... I was bleeding again and had to be taken to the hospital immediately. I was also experiencing small contractions. I had to be monitored for about 2 days. I dilated 3 cm. My baby girl was ready to come out 🤭 That was the longest labor ever (so I thought). I spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. My family from both sides and my bfs family came and visited me. They brought food for me and my bf. I swear the next day, after eating all that delicious food, my daughter wanted to pop out 🤣 However, I wasn't dilated fully, and my water didn't break. They had to force the birth by breaking my waterbag. Mind you, they had to give me the epidural because I was in pain for days. I wanted to hold off on it but decided I did need it so I could have the strength to bring my baby girl into the world. She was a premature baby. My due date was in January, and she decided to come out almost 2 months early. I wasn't able to hold her 😭

I definitely had post partum depression. Because she was premature, she needed to stay in the NICU. My boyfriend and I were basically living there. We spent nights and days there waiting till we got the word for our little girl to go home. This was before Covid, too. It took nearly 3 weeks till they told is we could go home with her. The nurses had to teach me how to pump and breastfeed. I was mostly just sad that my baby had to stay in an incubator most of the time.

My second pregnancy was a surprise. I found out I was 5 months with a son, and because my first pregnancy was the way it was, I had to go into my OB every week for steroid shots. It was to strengthen my cervix. IT DIDN'T WORK. Halloween 2020, I woke up with what felt like really bad cramps. I looked it up, and google said I might be experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. I shrugged it off. The next day... in the hospital. I found out that I was dilated 6 cm, but my baby wasn't facing down, and my water never broke. They told me they had to perform an emergency C-Section. I was damn near afraid of them cutting me open. My bf was a champ! He watched the procedure and supported me while I was in and out. And again, I could hold my baby 😭 This time was probably the hardest time I've ever been through because of covid, and he as well, had to stay in an incubator but for a month and a half. Visits were hard because only one parent could be in the NICU. He also had to have a blood transplant. I spent Christmas without my son, and it nearly broke me 😭😭 Best believe I saw him right after the Christmas party. I was just so heartbroken during this time of year. I couldn't enjoy the holidays and the worst part... I refused to. I didn't want to enjoy anything if my baby wasn't there to spend it with me and our family.

My son was able to come home 2 days after Christmas. I was sooo happy! But after that, I had restless nights because my son was fragile. He had acid reflux as a premature newborn. He needed a special formula. Feeding him wasn't difficult, but we'd have to stop in between feeding him to burp him, and then continue the feed, and burp him after that. I'd have to expect a big spit up all the time. After feeding him, we'd have to keep him sitting up at a certain angle, too. He was kept on a special feeding schedule. As he got a little older, it was easier.

My sacrifice was my time and emotions. As a mom, I had to try and keep it together even if I did feel sad, but it made me stronger as a woman, a mother, a sister, a daughter, and a girlfriend.

#lemon8challenge #motherhood #storytime