The Power Of Human Interaction

This morning after Gia’s preschool drop off I thought it would be nice to grab a second cup of coffee from my favorite local place, Farm & Flour.  It was slow enough inside that Vivi could roam around without getting in the way of the employees or disturbing guests who were working on their laptops.

While waiting for my cappuccino, I followed Vivi’s lead and ended up at a table occupied by two friendly women who peppered me with questions about Viv, her hair, if I had more children, and if they had that much hair too.  (It’s funny how Gia and Viv’s hair is one of the first things people notice about them.)  After telling them that both of my girls were born with very full heads of hair I grabbed my coffee and gave Viv her snacks to munch while she walked around.

Low and behold, we ended up back were we started, talking to the same two women again.  One of them got up to leave and I had a nice chat with the woman who remained.  I have seen her there many times before, usually seated in the exact spot she was currently occupying,  She had a leather notebook open in front of her, filled with the most beautiful handwriting.

After seeing her notebook I immediately became conscious of the fact that we might be disrupting some kind of work she was doing.  I asked her if we were bothering her and she told me that we weren’t at all.  She said, “children are my work,” while smiling at Viv.  I asked if she was a teacher and she told me she taught preschool at our local Montessori school.

For some reason I felt comfortable talking to her about things that I don’t share with people I’ve just met.  We chatted for a while about motherhood, school, staying at home with kids versus working, writing about my experiences on my blog, and the ups and downs of raising children.  She mentioned she didn’t have any kids of her own, but she was sure to tell me that I’m doing a great job.

There was something about our brief interaction that really made me feel good.  I doubt people think this much about their day to day interactions with others because we are all in such a hurry.  To be honest, we are so consumed in ourselves that we don’t often notice others or have the chance to talk the way I did with this woman today.

When I was just about finished with my cappuccino, Vivi noticed a dog that came in with two men.  I’m assuming it was a service dog, because he eventually sat down next to the two men inside the coffee shop.  Of course, Vivi had to toddle over towards the dog and investigate.

Initially, when I saw the two men come in I wanted to grab Viv, pick her up and keep her from going near them.  I hate that I felt this way and I’ll tell you why:

One of the men was an amputee in a wheelchair, possibly a war veteran based on the hat he was wearing.  The other man was a bit disheveled looking and his clothes were dirty.  I didn’t feel proud that this was what made me want to keep Viv away from them, but it was the fact of the matter.  Then, after thinking all of this in my head, I noticed a woman get up and leave, seemingly because of the men who came in.  This upset me a little bit and made we want to change my attitude of judgement towards them.

I set Viv down and let her roam again – yes, she went straight for the men and the dog. This time I followed closely and said hello to them as they smiled at my daughter.  I don’t know if they thought much about it or not, but I feel like they were surprised we came over to say hi and ask about their dog.  This was just a small interaction, but for me it was impactful because of how it shifted my thinking and how I wanted these guys to feel included, not ostracized.  For all I know they could have been victims of the raging fires in our area who just needed to escape the smoke.  Either way, I’ll remember how our interaction made me feel — good.

Finally, I decided it was time to start heading home to get Vivi down for her nap before heading back out again to pick Gia up from school.  On my way out there was a fire fighter from Cal Fire seated with a woman having toast and coffee.  I made a point to stop and I said, “Thank you for everything you’re doing,” while surprisingly trying not to cry.

The man and woman smiled at me and the man gave me a look of appreciation.  He pulled out a sticker and asked if he could give it to Vivi.  I took the sticker and jokingly said that my husband would kill me for bringing home more fire fighter paraphernalia.  He laughed and jokingly responded that police and fire are always at odds.

I shared that we have family and friends who are fire fighters and made it clear that we love and appreciate their work, just as much as we appreciate those in police work.  We talked for another couple of minutes about what city my husband is a police officer in and where my brother-in-law is a fire fighter.  After that we said goodbye and be safe.


I find it interesting that I had three separate interactions in one place, each really striking a chord with me.  As we crossed the street to my car I cried for a moment and just felt emotional.  Part of me also felt really silly for crying, but it reminded me that we can still have these genuine human experiences when we least expect them.

I’m sure each of these people that I interacted with in the short span of 45 minutes will never know that they impacted my day in such a positive way, but it’s nice to know that these experiences aren’t lost on us.  We really do have the power to shift someone’s day.  Let’s try and make it a positive shift.

xo Ashley

You’ll Thank Yourself Later

I know of quite a few people, particularly mothers, who start their day before the rest of their family.  Now, rising before your children and significant other seems like a pretty doable task, dare I even say easy?  For the last month and a half or so I’ve adopted a totally new morning routine doing just that – waking to an alarm an hour before the rest of the house is awake (dog included), so I can start the day on my terms.

I was inspired to do this from a few women that I follow on Instagram.  The thing that has kept me doing it every single day is the idea of thanking myself.  My goal each day is to do one thing that I will be able to thank myself for later that day.  Lately that has come in the form of a religious 6 a.m. wake up, followed by immediately making the bed, heading downstairs for hot coffee, chugging 20 oz of water, and plopping on the couch to read.


This has been the best thing for me as a mom who is with her kids everyday, all day.  I love starting the morning at a pace not set at a speed chosen by a toddler.  I’ve made a pact with myself that this time is to be spent doing things for pleasure.  I will not use my hour in the morning to do dishes, laundry, or anything of the like.  This is easy for me because at night after the kids go to sleep we do all of the dishes from dinner, wash  bottles, clean up the play room, etc.  I really, really dislike waking up to a chaotic looking house because it sets the wrong tone for my day.  Anyone else with me?!

Originally when I started this morning “me” time, I intended to wake up an hour earlier than everyone else only on the days my husband went to work.  Well, I continued the wake up trend on the days that he had off as well.  Now the thought of not having the early morning to myself makes me me cringe.

If you already wake up before your kids to do something nice for yourself, or simply to get ready for your workday in peace, good for you!  I should have started this practice when Gia was a baby, but we all know hindsight is 20/20.

During the quiet of the morning I’ve also revisited my love for reading and tapped into things I’m passionate about.  I’ve read a handful of personal growth books, many pertaining to motherhood, and realized I need to keep writing and also start pushing myself more.  I want to challenge myself and pursue things that make me feel good outside of my number one job of mommy.  I’m setting new goals such as reading X amount of books by year end, writing X amount of blog posts, and I’m even trying to educate myself on how to start a podcast.

I’m not sure what the immediate future holds in regards to my goals, but I know I will keep pushing, and for that I will certainly thank myself later.

Xx, Ashley

The Days Are Long, The Years Are Short

I think just about every parent has had someone tell them, “Enjoy this time, they grow up so fast.” While this is true, it doesn’t make your most challenging days with your little ones easier. It doesn’t make it any less frustrating when someone says this to you while you’re immensely sleep deprived or dealing with an independent toddler. Life with kids doesn’t get easier, it just becomes different and more complicated.

Right now I’m in the middle of juggling my four-month-old getting acclimated to all of her mental and physical leaps, while keeping my 2-year-old busy and happy. In another five years I’ll be dealing with my children coming home to do homework, or heaven forbid, being teased or bullied. See, it doesn’t get easier, it just evolves.

I’ve thought a lot about these types of things since my youngest, Viviana, has entered the world. Becoming a mom for the second time has made me even more patient and accepting. It has also taught me to slow down and put my phone down, despite how many photo opportunities my kids give me. Just when I think I’m at the end of my rope, one of my girls will do something to remind me how beautiful motherhood is.

Just the other day I was up for much of the night with Viv, replacing her pacifier every time she realized it had fallen out of her little mouth during the night. Although I had maybe gotten only two consecutive hours of sleep I was so happy. I was happy that she finally took the pacifier. I was so anti pacifier when Gia was her age, but Viv is a sucker and really needed one. It just took us forever to find one she liked and could learn how to use. For Viv, the paci means falling asleep with ease, and being much less needy through the night.

If I were in this situation as a first time mom, I’d be less inclined to find the positive in that situation. I’d be focused more on how tired I was, what I was seemingly doing wrong, and why my child wouldn’t do what others do. Sounds silly, I’m sure, but that’s kind of how I work.

Now I’m easily able to find the little joys in my challenging days home alone with my two babes. It used to be hard to not immediately think I wasn’t doing things well enough. (Sometimes I still think I’m not doing enough, but that’s a mom for you.) I’m so much more accepting and realistic about only being able to do so much. I truly know I’m always doing my best, so that is enough. Sometimes my best means giving in when Gia is asking for something I’d rather she not have, or maybe it means an extra episode of Paw Patrol. Other times I feel like superwoman – I’ve meal prepped for a few days, I’ve been able to wash my hair, give both girls equal amounts of attention, keep the house tidy and make sure most things run smoothly.

Now, four months into being a mommy to two girls, I finally feel like I’m getting my footing. I can go out alone with the two of them with confidence (and a lot of preparing ahead of time). I’m sure now that I’m more comfortable, things will change, because that’s just how it goes with kids. They are ever changing. Knowing that, I’m able to refer back to what I was saying earlier – it goes so fast.

They are only this little for such a short amount of time. Acknowledge your struggles and the tough days, but don’t let your frustrations and exhaustion rob you of your precious moments with your kids. Let the little things lift you up.

The other day I was feeling a little down and frustrated and then Gia randomly came up to me and said, “Mommy, you my best friend. I love you soooo much.” If that can’t give someone a boost of energy and a burst of happiness, I don’t know what can.


Achieving My Greatness

Okay, so I’m nine years removed from my days of sitting in a lecture hall full of twenty-something’s with aspirations of being the next CEO of some Fortune 500 company. I’m also two years removed from my “I’m going to be a mommy!” moment, and two babies into this gig.

I’ve always had dreams of greatness. Ever since I was young, my parents instilled the value of hard work. If I worked hard in school, sports and whatever activities I participated in, I would be great. “Always try your best, never give up, and you can do it,” were things I heard from my mom and dad on a daily basis.

After practicing what my parents preached, I was able to achieve things I’d always hoped to achieve. Those dreams of greatness as a child, and later as a college graduate shifted once I became a mom. Time has had this funny way of continuing to put numbers between myself and what my dreams once were. It’s nearly impossible now for me to even think of the dreams I once had. Why, you ask? Because there’s a two-year-old in front of me who is constantly asking questions. (For those of you wondering, Gia is in the “why” phase of toddlerhood.) There’s always a face to wipe, a diaper to change, discipline to enforce and a night of sleep interrupted.

The idea or thought of being something great comes to mind on a regular basis, asking me to believe that it’s true: I wanted to be something great and now I’m just a mom.

It’s not that I don’t love motherhood, because I truly love it, even the hard parts. Outside of a few hundred shared photos on Instagram, does anyone really see my motherhood?

I feel like my destiny of becoming something great is in this role as mom. But can I still be great if no one sees me?

The answer is yes, because it is how I define greatness. I don’t let someone else define it for me.

After spending countless hours in study hall during my college years, and stressing over papers, mid-terms and finals, I wish I could tell my college self a thing or two.

The work I did then was important and it helped me to learn and grow. The work I do now is invaluable because I am truly making a difference. I’m mostly treading water, but there are three other people in my life who I get a chance to serve everyday. And when I really start to think about it, my greatness doesn’t lie in what jobs I’ve held or what titles I have. My greatness lies solely in how much of myself I give away to others, to my family. I wanted to be something great, and my husband and daughters give me the chance to do that every single day that I have them.

What’s Your “Why?”

Last Wednesday, during a walk, I listened to my second podcast ever. Yep, I’m late to the party. The only other podcast I’ve ever had the chance to listen to was Serial, which I highly recommend if you’re a fan of podcasts. Serial and the podcast I stumbled upon are completely different. The podcast I found talks mostly about motherhood, parenthood and all of the relationships that come with those roles. (I’m having a mental block on the name right now, but I’ll post it here at a later time!)

If I’m being honest, it felt so good to listen to because I felt like I was “hanging” out with someone like me, someone who understands the phase of life I’m currently engulfed in. Plus, it was just nice to hear adult voices instead of “baby shark radio,” although, admittedly, I love baby shark.

The podcast got my wheels turning and made me think in ways that I haven’t lately. It made me give real thought as to why I share on social media. Why do I share my kids (many people look down on parents who post photos of their kids), why do I share my ups and my downs, etc.?

Basically, what is my “why” for social media? Well, it’s a little bit of a long winded answer. Social media, especially Instagram and my blog is a platform for my tiny voice to be encouraging to others. It’s where I can express my creativity through writing or photography, since my normal daily life doesn’t allow for other forms of creativity and expression.

It’s also an escape. I know many people use social media as an escape. You can mindlessly scroll and checkout for a bit, or it can make you feel more connected to the outside world when you’re a stay at home mom, like me. For me, when using social media I feel more seen and known, but not in a way where I need attention or validation. I feel seen because I’m home alone much of the time. It’s my way of communicating and connecting with adults when I can’t do it physically. Does that make sense?

My value and worth are by no means measured through social media, comments, likes or followers. When people start to feel a hunger for validation through social media I think it’s time to pause, take a step back, and take a break from it to be loved by the “real” people in your life. I’ve done this on occasion and it’s a nice way to detox when you get caught up in scrolling for the wrong reasons.

I share the things I do because I have a genuine desire to. The things I share have meaning to me, and the Ashley you see on social media is the same Ashley you’ll see in real life.


A Different Kind Of Mom Bod

I’m supposed to say, I love my body. I made little humans. I really like the cellulite that showed up on my butt. Aren’t these the things I’m supposed to believe with all of the body positivity, motherhood vibes and girl power that I champion??

Postpartum feelings are confusing and after both of my pregnancies I haven’t felt how I thought I would. For the last three years or so I’ve given my body away in a pretty substantial way, by going through two pregnancies in a relatively short period of time. Truth be told, I still give my body away every single day. I nurse my almost three week old, I hoist my two year old into the car, I schlep the dog up the stairs, I wipe dirty little faces and I pick up an endless array of toys.

It might sound selfish (and it feels selfish) that I want my old body back. I know what you’re thinking – you’re thinking, “Ashley, you’re not even three weeks postpartum. Let yourself heal. Give it time. It took months to make those beautiful babies, so allow yourself to take the time to get back to where you were.” I get it. I agree, but it’s not that easy.

Seeing your postpartum body for the first time can be a pretty big shock. It’s hard (and amazing) for any woman to see such a huge transformation. Being that I recently shared with all of you that I had history with an eating disorder, it feels even harder seeing this change in my body, especially for the second time.

The good thing is that I’ve been through this all once before and I know what my body is capable of. I know I will lose the baby weight, regain my strength and feel like some semblance of myself again. I just hate the waiting game. It’s uncomfortable, but life can be uncomfortable.

While I was pregnant with Gialina I worked out 5-6 days per week, ate a balanced diet and treated myself when it felt right. With Viviana I did the same routine. The only difference that I can think of is that with Gia I stuck with more cardio based workouts, and with Vivi I continued my weight training with my cardio.

I gained 43 pounds with Gia and 40 with Vivi. The only reason I tell you this is because I’m a firm believer that your body is programmed to gain a certain amount of weight while pregnant, regardless of what you do. I did everything “right” through both of my pregnancies, yet I still beat myself up for not gaining the recommended 25-35 pounds.

Obviously those numbers can’t apply to everyone. The woman who is 5’2″ will very likely gain differently than the woman who is 6’0″. We aren’t the same and neither are any of our pregnancies.

Trust the process. This is my own reminder to myself to do just that. Sometimes when you put things out in the universe (like sharing vulnerabilities) good things happen. Healing happens. Support is given. People feel less alone. That’s my intention here. I’m reminding myself that I will get where I want to be soon and if you’re in a similar season in your life, you will too.

I’m sure you may have heard the saying, “people only show their highlight reel” through social media outlets. A friend of mine reminded me of this the other day, and it’s so true. Of course we are all quick to share the great things in our lives, but I find it just as important to share our bumps in the road or messy moments. We are all so much more alike than we realize. The moment we stop pretending that we are better than one another or comparing our highlight reels, is the moment we will all feel more connected.

 This is about my entire self, about all the parts of me – more than just getting my body back. It’s about the parts that existed before two little people filled my arms and my heart, and the parts that will continue to exist long after those people have fully grown.

Share your experiences – good and maybe not so good. I having a sneaking suspicion that someone else will reach out in appreciation, creating a ripple effect. Pass on kindness, pay it forward and if comfortable, share your truth.


My Old Friend, ED

For a long time I’ve kept a secret. I used to think this was the kind of secret that could never be told. I was ashamed to share it with others, but today I choose to share it because it just feels right.

Sadly, like many young women (and men too) I suffered in silence with an eating disorder. I’ve been wanting to share this on my blog since I started writing. One, it feels empowering to talk about it now because I can proudly tell you that I no longer have disordered eating habits. Second, I tell you this because I know people who have had eating disorders and maybe my story will encourage someone who hasn’t gotten help to reach out.

The thing about many eating disorders is that they make you chase an unattainable goal. Initially for me, my goal was to just be even healthier than I already was. At the time when my eating disorder manifested, I was in college and on a full softball scholarship.

My logic behind all of this was that I ate healthy and worked hard, so why not turn it up a notch? I told myself I’d eat even healthier and workout outside of my rigorous, daily softball workouts and practices.

I’ve always been athletic and in “good” shape, but as soon as I started to tweak my routine in this extreme way I started to lose weight. I’d be gone for a weekend softball tournament and after having three games in one day, I’d go back to our hotel and run on the treadmill. Meanwhile, my healthy eating became full blown restriction and starvation. I’d lose a few pounds in one weekend, and it wasn’t like it was just water weight. My body had no fuel and my muscles were basically eating themselves.

After months of doing this to myself, I knew it was wrong and I’d tell myself I’d stop once I saw a certain number on the scale. But, each time I’d hit my “goal” I’d create a new one in my head. That’s where the unattainable comes in. With the state I was in I was constantly depressed about my outward appearance and I was angry. I’d lash out at loved ones, but it was always unintentional. I was so, so unhappy and in a very dark place. I knew I needed help but I was beyond scared and didn’t know where to start. I was scared to gain weight and do what it took to get healthy again. I was scared to tell anyone the truth about what was going on and I was scared of losing more than I already had – and I’m not talking about losing weight. I’m talking about losing things that were important to me, like softball.

Ultimately, I was losing weight at a pace that was pretty dangerous. I was ordered by my doctor to no longer travel with my team and participate in practice or games. Talk about a crushing blow. At the time I felt like I was totally abandoned and forgotten by my coaches and teammates because I wasn’t present with them everyday, even though I was still a part of the team. I was so embarrassed that I had this huge part of me taken away. After all, my whole identity was wrapped up in being a softball player. It’s something that defined me since a very young age. To say I was having an identity crisis during this time would be putting it mildly.

Part of me wants to place the blame on someone else for all that I went through. I won’t go into detail about that here, but at the end of the day I did essentially do this to myself. I still have a very bittersweet taste in my mouth when I look back at some of my college years. Regardless of all that, I’d never change what happened because it has molded me into the woman I am today.

Without my eating disorder I wouldn’t have the outlook on health and mental wellbeing that I do now. I also probably wouldn’t be as mindful of my actions and habits. If there’s one thing that this disease (yes, it is a disease) has taught me, it’s that I NEVER want my daughters to measure their worth by a number on the scale or from their outside appearance. Although I think my girls are the most beautiful beings on the planet, it’s what is in their hearts that matters. If I’m not kind to myself, they will never know how to be kind to themselves, or others.

So for anyone out there suffering, whether it be from an eating disorder or any other terrible struggle – there’s a hope that’s waiting for you in the dark. If you don’t want to get better, do it for someone else who loves you. Asking for help was by far the hardest thing I did through my journey back to health. There were setbacks, countless tears shed, fights and loss, but today I am healthy in my mind and body.

Having a healthy mind after having an eating disorder is tricky though. Although I don’t act on my old ways of thinking, there are days where I do have negative self talk, just like anyone might. Recovering from an eating disorder is kind of like sobriety. There’s always temptations out there and that little devil on your shoulder can sometimes talk a little louder than the angel on the other shoulder. With that, you accept the challenges and push through to the best of your ability. At least that is always the goal.

There’s a lot more to my story, but I hope that this little glimpse into one of my most unhappy times can help someone else heal.

We are all worthy and we deserve to love ourselves! Sometimes we just need a reminder of that.


Tired Eyes & A Grateful Heart

As I write this I’m currently snuggled up on our big arm chair that is usually occupied by my husband. I have a loyal dog at my feet and a sweet smelling newborn asleep on my chest. Gia is napping in her room down the hall and Craig is out on a run.

I sit here with a full heart and tired eyes and know that there will be many challenging days ahead as we continue to navigate the ebb and flow of parenthood. For some reason, becoming a mom for the second time has relaxed me. I’ve heard that is usually the case, as this isn’t my first rodeo. But, do any parents really know what they’re doing? No. We are all just trying to do what’s best for our children and sometimes that means making some mistakes along the way.

The most difficult thing about having a two-week old and a two-year old isn’t the sleepless nights and breastfeeding. Albeit, those things are certainly a challenge! For me, what’s most difficult is letting go of my big girl Gia. I have had to surrender my position as her number one caregiver because I have a hungry newborn and a husband with seemingly useless nipples. Seriously though – accepting that I physically cannot do what I did for Gia the way I could before Vivi came is so, so hard. This part is temporary, but that’s hard for me to remember.

Even though we are in the very early stages of figuring out how to balance and adjust to the addition of our newest family member, I cry often about missing my Gia. I can’t be the one to always make her meals, I can’t always get her dressed, I can’t always play with her the second she might want me to, etc. If I’m being completely honest, it’s heart wrenching and scary, but again, temporary.

I know this phase we are all in is just that, a phase. It doesn’t make it easy though. I think that Gia understands and sees that the baby is on me often because I’m obviously feeding her all the time. She sees that I have her and automatically realizes that if she needs or wants something then she should go to daddy. It’s great that she’s figured that out, but there’s a part of me longing for her to do that with me instead.

Craig will be heading back to work in a week, which will be interesting on many levels. I’m very nervous about the thought of holding down the fort all by myself. The thing is, I have so much help nearby if I need it. I just want to be able to figure out how to manage this mom of two thing on my own and with as little delay as possible. It will take time though, and I will ask for help when I need it because there’s no sense in making it harder on myself than necessary.

One thing I am eternally thankful for is Gia’s continued positive reaction to being a big sister. In no way has she lashed out or directed any anger or frustration towards her new sister. She has had her moments of frustration with other normal toddler things, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

It’s just amazing to me how this time around, I’m so much more confident in my abilities as a mom. I’m able to trust my gut more and worry less. I’m sure a lot of my relief is directly related to being able to successfully breastfeed. I’m not sure how long my breastfeeding journey will be, but for right now I’m so proud of myself for being proactive in getting it right.

I had such severe mastitis with Gia that it derailed my breastfeeding plans with her. Along with dealing with the physical challenges of mastitis, there was also the guilt and shame I felt for not being able to breastfeed Gia the way I wanted to. As so many people say, fed is best, and as a mom I needed to have my sanity to be the best version of myself for Gia.

The bottom line is, being a new mom is tough business, but the most rewarding thing. I feel like I’m slowing down and really savoring the newborn stage because I now have first hand experience with just how quickly it passes.

Regardless of how much chaos Craig and I are facing and will face in the future, we constantly remind ourselves how others fight so hard to have what we have. We are blessed beyond measure because we have two healthy, beautiful little girls who light up our world.

I’ve never known my purpose until having my children. Motherhood is the best thing to have ever happened to me and I’m so grateful for everything that comes with it.


A Birth Story: Viviana Noelle

Last weekend something pretty amazing happened – we became parents for the second time. We are beyond blessed to have a healthy, beautiful new little girl in our family.

Our sweet new addition, Viviana Noelle, came into this world 12 days earlier than predicted, with the same ferocity as her big sister, Gia.

Before I dive into the details of how Vivi decided to make her entrance, let me tell you about the days leading up to her birth.

For me, all of my prenatal appointments have a certain excitement about them. This was certainly the case for my 37 week check up.

I had been looking forward to this particular appointment because I wanted to discuss a “plan of action” for the coming weeks. My reasoning for this was because I had an unusually rapid labor with Gia. So you could imagine how I wanted to be prepared for an even quicker labor, and possibly earlier arrival for Viv.

My doctor basically told me that I needed to be ready to go the second I felt the tiniest twinge. To my surprise, I was already 2cm and 50% effaced at that appointment. That could mean no baby for weeks, or it could mean any day. Knowing how I was progressing made the anticipation that much worse. I was also taken aback when the doctor told me she’d see me in two weeks, for what would be my 39 week appointment.

I was a little bit disappointed that I wasn’t going in before then because again, I wanted to know how my body was progressing. I just reminded myself that it didn’t matter and my body would let me know when it was time, appointment or not.

Needless to say, after my 37 week appointment, birth was the only thing on my mind. I did my best to stay present and really enjoy my days with just Gia. Thinking about how my world was about to be turned upside down (in the best way possible) made me stay more in the moment.

As the next week crept along, I continued my usual routines. Gia and I would go to the gym together while Craig was at work. I didn’t do much else outside of town, for fear of going into labor too far from the hospital.

On Thursday, September 20th I started to feel regular contractions. After letting them continue for a few hours I thought it wise to just call labor and delivery to tell them what was going on with me. They knew by looking up my chart that I had a history of precipitous labor and advised me to come in and get looked at.

I sent Gia with my mom and dad, called Craig at work and told him to meet me at the hospital when he was off in 30 minutes. I have to say, walking into the hospital alone, wondering if this was it was a bizarre feeling.

I stayed at the hospital for a couple hours while I was being monitored. I most certainly was having regular contractions, as the nurse confirmed that for us. My cervix was still 2cm, so for that day we were meant to remain a family of three for a little bit longer.

The nurses were so nice to me when I came in for that “false alarm.” I told them that I was sorry I made them do all that work. Obviously it’s what they are there for, but I felt silly about it. They reassured me that it was completely reasonable that I came in based on my birth history. Their sincerity made me feel better about our short little visit to the hospital that evening.

The following day I was praying that the baby didn’t come. I had house keepers coming to do a nice cleaning in anticipation of our baby. Also, I really wanted this baby to come when Craig was home from work, but the odds weren’t necessarily in my favor since Craig was working overtime that day too.

My prayers must have been heard because that day (Friday) there was no baby. I was now into my 38th week of pregnancy and felt like everyday was Groundhog Day. Little did I know, I’d only have to endure it for one more day.

The morning of Saturday, September 22nd Craig, Gia and I woke up and did our usual thing. We made breakfast, I hit the gym and came home to play with Gia and watch Craig set up our double stroller. When Gia went down for her nap around noon, it was Craig’s turn to hit the gym and my time to rest a little. The whole time Gia was napping I was reading on the couch and timing my contractions. They kept up for over two hours. By the time Craig was home and Gia was up, Craig wanted to head to the grocery store. I said we should give Gia a bath first and get that out of the way. Boy, am I glad we did!

After bath, Craig mentioned going to the store again and I told him that I think I should just call labor and delivery. He knew I was still having contractions and if this was the real deal I didn’t want to let it get going with being at the hospital.

Cutting to the chase, we sent Gia off to my parents and got the go ahead from the hospital to come in. Once we were there I just had the feeling that they weren’t gonna let me go home. I was right. I was at 4.5cm and 80% effaced when they were monitoring me. They said they were just going to transfer me to a room because knowing how I worked, I’d be having a baby real soon.

We were hardly in the triage area and had gotten to our room where the nurse wanted to get my i.v. hooked up. She was explaining everything about an epidural and my mind started to race. I was also feeling very different at this point. Lots and lots of intense pressure was happening. I wanted to try and have a natural birth, just like with Gia. I felt like if I did it once I can do it again, but since I had to make a decision I was nervous about making the right one regarding an epidural.

As the nurse attempted to place my i.v. I was having such intense contractions that I needed to focus and it meant not getting the i.v. in quick enough. Once I had a quick break between contractions the nurse was able to place the i.v., but there was no time to even hook it up.

My water broke and then I immediately felt the need to push. The nurse said you need to wait for the doctor, we aren’t ready. “To hell with that,” I thought. This baby is coming! I was able to hold off on pushing momentarily while the doctor and nurses where able to get things in place. Thank goodness they were fast because it was 6:55pm when my water broke. Nine minutes later and three pushes later, at 7:04pm I had Viviana on my chest.

I remember Craig telling me she had lots of hair and I was doing such a good job. Those words from my husband were all I needed to motivate my body to get her out. I also remember looking up at Craig with Vivi on my chest, telling him, “I did it!” The look on Craig’s face was one of such pride. It made my heart swell and immediately I knew that I had the capacity to love two children equally and fiercely.

After Viv’s rapid arrival, the doctors told me I had a lot of bleeding and clotting that needed to get under control. This scared me because without hesitation I thought about what that could mean. It could mean surgery and even more blood loss. In that moment my thoughts were on just wanting the bleeding to stop so I could hold and feed my baby.

Thankfully, after being injected in the thigh with multiple medications, the bleeding and expelling of blood clots was under control. Thank God.

Now we didn’t need to worry and could continue the focus on Viviana. Being that she was 12 days early, she was smaller than Gia at birth. Gia was born at 41 weeks and Vivi at 38. Weighing 7 pounds, 9 ounces, and 20.5 inches in length, Viv was a good size for being early. I can only imagine how big she would have been if she decided to come on her due date of October 4th.

Our time spent in the hospital was pretty brief. We left in the early afternoon the day after Viviana’s arrival. Gia met her new sister at the hospital before we brought her home. That moment was one I will never, ever forget. I couldn’t have been more proud of our big girl and how we had created this little family. Gia meeting her sister is a blog post for another day. After all, I am writing this post with a sleepy newborn on my chest and a tired toddler napping in the other room.

Women’s bodies are amazing. Birth is amazing. I share my story because it proves how different and beautiful all birthing experiences are. There should be no shame for any one way a child enters the world. C-section, epidural, home birth, natural delivery – they are all equal. As long as I have a healthy baby in my arms, I don’t care how that baby came into the world because it’s not a competition.

To all the badass mamas out there, mamas-to-be and those longing to be mothers, I send all my love and good vibes to you.


Prepping For Baby #2: Three Things I Wish I Had The First Time Around

As much as I’d like to think this second pregnancy thing is a cake walk, it’s isn’t. The “been there, done that” mentality is there, but only to a certain degree. I hate to say it, but the fact is my pregnancy symptoms have been totally different than with Gia. As far as resting goes….well there is no rest when you have a toddler!

For me, there’s more to this than just getting my body ready to have our next baby. I’ll be adjusting my social life once again, my home and preparing a two-year-old for the arrival of our new family member.

You would think that after giving birth only two years ago that I’d be pretty well versed on doing the whole newborn thing again. Truth is, mom brain is real and I’ve forgotten a lot about those early days. I know most of it will come back to me, but new babies bring on different challenges.

One thing I do know about being a second-time mom is there are a few items that I’ll be needing that I didn’t have with Gia. Two of the three things I need for this go-round are solely for baby #2 and one thing is for both children.

So what are they you ask?

#1: Dockatot

Dockatot is a multifunctional sleep aid for your babe. It’s like it’s own little bed that can also serve as a place to sit, do tummy time, play and snuggle. It’s also great for safe co-sleeping and you can bring it anywhere. I don’t plan on using it for co-sleeping, as we did not co-sleep with Gia, but never say never.

I like the idea that it will give the new baby that cuddled feeling while sleeping. From what I’ve heard and read, it’s amazing and helps babies sleep for longer durations.

Gia was in a bassinet that has been in my family for years. While I love the idea of continuing that tradition, I also want to do what I think works best for us and baby. Thankfully Gia was a good sleeper, so I pray this baby will be the same!

#2: Rock ‘n’ Play

The great thing about having a sister-in-law who had her second baby before me is that I can ask her tons of questions. One thing that she got for her second boy was a Rock ‘n’ Play. She used it all the time for her baby. If it weren’t for her encouraging me to get one I’m not sure I would have thought of it myself.

What I think I’ll use it for most is to have a free hand to help Gia. Eventually when I’m home alone with two kids, I will quickly need to figure out how to balance their needs. I’m sure a lot of Gia’s needs will require me to set the baby down in a safe, portable environment. What’s great is that I’ll be able to bring it outside while Gia is playing.

There are quite a few versions of the Rock ‘n’ Play out there. I was able to purchase one on Amazon Prime Day for $30 off the original price. Who doesn’t love a deal?!

#3: Double Stroller

Stroller shopping can be overwhelming because there are so many options. With Gia we bought a Peg Perego stroller and car seats. Naturally, since I loved them so much I immediately gravitated towards the brand’s Duette Piroet stroller.

The hardest part about deciding on what kind of double stroller to get was the side-by-side set up versus the tandem set up. Ultimately, after seeing both options from Peg Perego in person, Craig and I agreed the tandem version is what we prefer. My gut says it will be easier to maneuver and it will just work well with our lifestyle.

Beyond these items, I’m pretty much good to go. I have plenty of beautiful clothes that I’m excited to see our new girl in. We have all the toys and play accessories a baby could need. The last few things I need to do are along the lines of rewashing baby clothes, packing a hospital bag and making sure I have what I need for my own recovery.

I’m sure if we were to have a third child, I’d have a brand new blog post listing what I’d need for baby #3 that I didn’t have the first two times. There’s always new and amazing products, as well as things we think we just need to have.

For now, we are very happy to become a family of four and we’re planning on keeping it at that. Four has always seemed like the right number for us.

Now I just need to stick out eight more weeks of being hot and uncomfortable. We can’t wait to meet our newest girl. Gia is especially excited….for now! 😉