When thinking back on my childhood I have nothing short of amazing memories. My parents were the ones that everyone called mom and dad; they let everyone in and treated everyone with so much love! We didn’t have much money growing up (I’m pretty sure it was a paycheck to paycheck household) but that didn’t stop my parents from showing me, my sister, and anyone else who wanted in all this world had to offer. Every single weekend we were at a different park, taking a road trip, leading a new sport, singing songs, and simply living the best life we could. Now it wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies; we got into with one another, I was a rotten teen come my 13th birthday but it always ended in love. 


It was all love and all good until one day it didn’t end in just ended, my parents split and my dad left. Twenty years of memories and this magical image of what family was shattered in a split second; I was destroyed! It was the kind of split that nobody expected and when people heard the news it broke them too; we were the family that gave people hope, mom & dad were “relationship goals”. For a very long time I was very angry with my father, it was a hurt I didn’t know I could feel and I let him know it day in and day out. I would call him screaming, crying, and cursing; I told him I never wanted anything to do with him again...I did this every single day for a long time until I just stopped speaking to him all together. I could not make sense of how I could go from daddy’s little girl to writing him off. He repeatedly told me that the split had nothing to do with me and my sister, that his love for us was never ending, and that he was still the same Dad but I didn’t want to hear that! In my head he broke up our family and if he wasn’t home then he wasn’t the same Dad. 

Years went by and the pain remained, how I handled it was the only thing that changed...from lashing out to completely blocking it out. Things changed after one of my sorority sisters shared a story with me about a lady she helped save in Haiti after the earthquake in Haiti back in 2010 (I believe). She told the patient happily “you made it, you’re ready to go home!” and the lady responded that there was nothing good about surviving because she not only had no physical home to go back to but she lost her entire family. After hearing that story I realized life is unexpected and tomorrow is really never promised so I made a decision to let my dad back in. It was a slow start and the relationship seemed foreign which opened a new set of emotions but I took it for what it was even if it was a simple “hello” and very generic “how’s it going”. 

Dad moved off to Florida so along with not speaking too much I did not see much of him; I only saw him when I went to Florida. He came up to NY when my grandfather passed away and for my 30th birthday/because I was pregnant with Kennedy; both times via train...a 24+ hour ride. During my pregnancy we started to speak more because he wanted to make sure his future grand baby was doing well and because I wanted him to be involved in this very important chapter of my life; I put in a lot of effort that was greatly appreciated and reciprocated by him. He also came up for my out of this world shower and helped execute the whole thing which I was so happy about because I really wanted him to see me pregnant in person; daily belly bump pictures was not the same as seeing that big ol' belly in person. Originally he was supposed to be taking the train to NY on my due date so that he could be here for or around the time of my labor but he landed a great new job and the start date was my due date. So unfortunately, my dad wasn't here for that day but I called him when my water broke and we FaceTimed him throughout my bajillion hours of labor...I'm not sure when/how/who told him once I gave birth (insert sad face). 

Since the day Kennedy was born we do a WHOLE LOT OF FaceTime so that she can recognize him and more importantly have a relationship with her Grandpa. Both me and Jack were/are incredibly close to our grandparents so it is extremely important that Kennedy have that opportunity as well. At around 2 months we jumped on a plane and went to visit Abuelito and holy shit was it the most beautiful sight to see (video below, grab tissues). When asked "if God forbid tomorrow didn't come for one of us, would I regret not mending the relationship" the answer is HELL YES, I would end up living a life of CONTINUED pain and regret.  People make mistakes (hell I have made some pretty jacked up mistakes and hurt people in my life); some bigger than others, some hurt a hell of a lot more than others. But I had to let go of the past, let go of the pain and anger; I had to actually forgive and move on for my sanity and well being but more importantly so that Kennedy can have a relationship with her Abuelito and vice versa. How could I ever prevent two people from loving each other. So my dear Kennedy, so tiny yet so powerful already; it's amazing how one being can heal wounds and mend relationships. 



I have said it a million times, motherhood is always something I dreamed of and a huge part of motherhood to me was breastfeeding. There was something magical tied to breastfeeding in my mind; between the super powers of having the ability to feed a child anywhere/anytime with my body and the bond shared. While pregnant I racked up on all things needed for breastfeeding: the nipple creams, the crazy looking bras, the wild contraptions that came with pumping, an assortment of feeding pillows (which even came with me to the hospital), and tons of pads for my soon to be leaking boobs! 

When I finally got my hands on Kennedy in the hospital it was immediately time to get her on the boob (yay!!) my excitement very quickly turned to fear when I heard my little baby scream for bloody freaking murder the second she assumed position! The rest is a little blurry (I was heavily medicated) but I remember pumping at some point and her always screaming bloody murder when it was boob time in turn causing me to cry out of fear, frustration, and disappointment. The lactation counselor came in and spent a good amount of time with us trying to find positions that would work and guide us through the process; the bloody murder cry never ended but we kept trying. One very early morning a nurse came in to wake me up and tell me Kennedy dropped 12% in body weight and that she highly suggested supplementing; while I was heart broken because this is not what I wanted without hesitation I told her to feed my baby...I knew she needed to eat and regardless how she got her food the most important thing was she got it! 

MISSION: GET THIS CHILD TO LIKE MY BOOB continued throughout our hospital stay and once we got home; I also continued pumping to keep the supply up and so that she would have boob milk for feedings. The story remained the same she HATED the boob or the positioning who knows; we tried nipple shields, different positions, different rooms, lighting, and times...nothing worked! I continued pumping (a very exhausting and at times painful job) and fed her breast milk via baby bottle and she was happy. Even though I was feeding her through a bottle I kept trying to get her on the boob and it was breaking my heart that she wouldn't take my boob BUT I was happy that I was still providing her with breast milk. Like I mentioned pumping was a full time job, my boobs would get super hard, full, painful, and leak (very glamorous); my boobs also gave NO FUCKS if I was out and about or trying to get sleep they needed to be pumped on their time (there goes zero control again). What blew my mind is when my boobs got to that super painful point it felt like I had gallons of milk ready to gush out of them but oddly enough after 30 mins of pumping I would only have enough for her next feeding at most her next two feedings; but with no experience I figured that was how it went. As time went on my little gorditas appetite was increasing but my milk supply was decreasing so I found myself having to supplement with formula again, my supply was not meeting her demand. 

I was starting to feel very defeated; I was trying so hard to make it work! It was bad enough that she didn't want to feed off my breasts and we didn't get to share that special bond but now I was not even able to supply her with all her food naturally. At this point I was trying everything; pumping longer, eating foods that increased lactation, my grandmother made me a concoction of seeds, lactation teas, education, extra pumping time...EVERYTHING! It also didn't help that the first question almost everyone asked me was "so are you breastfeeding", it was a constant reminder and conversation that I wasn't succeeding. Now 99.9% of the folks that asked this question meant ZERO harm (it's a normal and common question) and were super supportive and understanding when I shared what was happening, most had the same response "as long as your baby is eating and healthy, that is what's important". BUT there were a few hard core folks who kind of made me feel like shit about "giving up" and "not being committed enough" (like wtf!); they said giving her the bottle of breastmilk was a fail because I was making it too easy for her (apparently letting my baby go hungry because she wouldn't eat from the boob was a better idea) they really made me feel like I was doing a disservice to my baby by not breastfeeding..after I cried a little I put on my big girl pants and stopped responding to those people; I was already being hard on myself I sure as hell didn't need the outside pressure (girl(s) bye!)

Unfortunately, the demand beat the supply eventually; I was producing at most one ounce between BOTH breasts after 30 minutes of pumping. It freaking sucked and killed me inside but I finally made the decision to stop; breastfeeding/pumping was not working for US! Once I finally let it go and did what was best for us I felt great and was able to feel proud about MY CHOICE! I am able to confidently talk about how my child is fed and explain why I made the decision; I know I don't have to explain but I think it's very important that women know they have a CHOICE and not to feel the immense pressure that comes with motherhood especially breast feeding. There are so many crazy pressures put on women from having a child to how the hell you feed the child! If a woman doesn't want to have a child KUDOS TO HER for knowing that and making the decision that is BEST FOR HER; if a woman doesn't want to breast feed because she wants her partner to handle night feedings KUDOS TO HER for making the decision that works BEST FOR HER FAMILY.  It will always be a mystery to me why people feel so compelled to judge aspects of other peoples lives that literally have ZERO impact on their own. So kudos to those women who are willing and able to breast feed (or pump) for years and to those who shake up that formula and pop a bottle...congrats your child is being fed!

Holy crap I ramble sometimes and once again this post took me way longer than it should have to write. Moral of the story don't let the myths and outside world pressure you in any aspect of your life; do YOU BOO BOO! 

The First Weeks


I still cannot believe that I am a momma, I cannot get over the fact that Miss Kennedy Kay is my daughter...I have a freaking daughter dude...what!!! While it is still surreal I sure as hell know it is real, I have a tiny little human to care for, my family is bigger by one, and the house full of more love and emotions. 

Like everyone else, I heard "being a mom is no joke, it's hard work" and I for sure never doubted that; however, I had no idea what it really meant until Miss Kennedy joined us here at home (the hospital had round the clock nurses so I cannot lie and say I felt the same there as I did once we got home). The first two weeks I had my mom here to help me while Jack was at work (the downside of having your own business is no work = no money, so we had to make the hard decision and send his ass off to get that money! ) and that was a huge help because physically I wasn't able to move around like I would have liked. 


So the first week was a total high; not a worry in the world other than Miss Kennedy (since mom was taking care of the house all focus was on the baby). There was a bit of a hiccup going into the first weekend, I had a bit of a meltdown and ended up butting heads with my mom...that is never ever fun! I had one of my best friends coming to visit and stay the weekend which I was super excited about but I also had a few group of people that were planning on visiting that weekend as well and thinking about that made me freak out a bit. There were loads of laundry both hanging up to dry around the house and piles of folded clothes that needed to be put away and in my mind all I could think about was the "mess" and all the people that would be in the house that weekend. When my friend arrived Charlie went loca, she was so freaking excited my poor baby (Charlie) needed some TLC and went ape shit for it upon her arrival (that added to my built up anxiety that I was internalizing because I knew it was all good things: laundry, friends, family, baby, pup). My darling angelic mother came into the room with a puzzle for my friend's daughter to play with and I nearly lost it in my head (laundry, wild pup, new baby, a million guests visiting the following day, and now a 60 piece puzzle) and gave my mom "the look", the look that said "get the F out of here with that puzzle before she notices and before I lose my shit"...well that didn't go over too well. She didn't say anything she just gave me "the look", the look that said "I'm highly offended and disgusted by that total bitch move Jacqueline" and since my emotions were on a million I felt the need to address her in regards to "the look" she gave me...that didn't go over too well either (shocker)! Let's just say emotions were running high on both ends and we both ended up in tears...holy fucking dramatics I know but it's the truth.


After that very dramatic episode my mom went home, I think we needed a break lol, we are VERY close so I guess that's "normal". When Jack got home from work instead of telling him about the argument with my mom I just used him as my emotional punching bag...not right, not fair I know but I seriously was a freaking emotional wreck and sometimes when you're too far into "crazy" you just have to let the crazy out (or maybe that's just me). Jesus, they said pregnancy and motherhood brings out all the honesty because NO FUCKS ARE GIVEN but I have straight diarrhea of the mouth (or fingers since I'm typing). The rest of the weekend was very nice; my girlfriend was SUPER helpful and supportive, she helped me off the edge and told me that the emotions are normal..."hello you just had a baby, that is a huge deal".  

That support from a fellow mom was very comforting; lucky for me I have quite a few very close friends that are moms and they all offered me that same advice ("it's ok, it's normal"). The following weekend I went to a family event with one of my besties and her family and again I received the support and advice from her and other women (complete strangers) and was hit with the exact same words of wisdom "it's okay, it's normal". At that point I finally allowed myself to admit that I was emotional and overwhelmed (which is OKAY) and that holding it in wasn't healthy but nor was lashing out at my loved ones. So I sat Jack down for a conversation and apologized for my reaction but explained that I was feeling overwhelmed at times and I needed him to have patience with me. Once I became mindful of my actions/feelings and communicated what I was feeling and what I needed from him things magically got better...who would have thunk, there was a weight lifted on both of our ends! It turns out that he too was overwhelmed and emotional and talking it out made us realize that our dreams came true with Kennedy and that life is always better when we play as a team not against one another. Also, let me make it clear just because I was emotional and overwhelmed DOES NOT mean I took the blessing named Kennedy for granted nor was I ever NOT happy for one second about her (people can be very judgmental, but I'm working on not giving a shit about what people think).   

In conclusion; I'm on cloud freaking 9 and so in love with my whole family but I was not prepared for the emotions that would come with this new chapter but communication with my loved ones and honesty with myself have been total game changers! It's okay to be stressed, overwhelmed, emotional, and confused people! Talk that shit out!! 

Birth Story

On 7/20/2017 at 10:51pm our lives were forever changed when our baby finally arrived. A healthy and beautiful baby girl (Kennedy Kay Solivan) was born weighing in at a whopping 10.5 pounds!

Here's how it went down! Well first a little back story:

7/5: My mucus plug fell out, in the parking lot of a diner...the pregnancy glamour continues.

7/6: I had my weekly OB appointment where I found out I was 2 cm dilated and 70 or 80% effaced (I forget, shocker)

7/11: Went to the hospital with a terrible stomach ache, turns out I was having contractions and didn't know it. I opted to go home because I was still only 2 cm dilated and did not want to stay in the hospital for possibly days and get induced. After leaving the hospital I prayed that my water would break (apparently that doesn't happen too often) because if I wasn't feeling contractions I was afraid that I wouldn't know I was in labor until it was too late and I would become a viral video "woman gives birth in car".

7/6-7/19: SLOWEST TWO WEEKS EVER, HOLY SHIT!!!!! The last two weeks felt just as long as the entire pregnancy combined, especially because the plug came out and I was dilated...we were on edge. Hell we even had family/friends come in from out of town to visit the baby, except the baby never showed up.

Okay now that we are caught up, let's get this story started. At 4pm on 7/19 I called Jack because I felt the stomach ache again; I told him no need to come home just an FYI. When he got home we decided to go out for a date night, I even put mascara and blush on (big deal!!)! I felt a little off while at dinner and Jack definitely sensed it, he asked "do you think today is the day" and I told him I thought so. Come 2am I woke up with the stomach ache pain (aka contractions), Jack asked if I wanted to go to the hospital but I opted out of it because I was still able to walk and talk (I wanted to spend as little time as possible at the hospital, while the pain was bearable). The discomfort continued and kept me up until 5am at which point I found the most bizarre position to doze off in and then at 5:30am POP by water broke! I jumped out of bed and calmly told Jack and he too jumped out of bed; then the waterfall just continued to pour out of me (there goes that pregnancy glamour again). Instead of running out the door I decided to attempt to "get ready" (shower, do my hair, make a few calls, and send a few "it's happening" text) BUT between Jack and my mom they told me to get my ass in the car and to the hospital...I was so bitter that I didn't get to shower or do my hair (but best believe I packed my flat iron in my hospital bag). On our way to the hospital I asked Jack to stop at Starbucks, he didn't (smh). 

Moving along, we got to the labor and delivery VIP entry and walked on in (after taking a selfie). We were both in great spirits and very calm (I sniffed Rosemary Oil like I was getting paid, it was heaven sent) as we were admitted, the wait was finally over! We were  admitted at 6:30am but I was still only about 2 cm dilated in active labor, by 10:30am I was 8 cm dilated and holy shit were those contractions very different from the ones I had in the middle of the night. Side note I wanted to go natural aka no drugs to help the pain which was cool for a while but after HOURS and HOURS at 8 cm I was starting to question my all natural mind set. I spent most of my labor in a hot shower which was a huge help; the nurses and Jack were coaching me, massaging my back, and shoving rosemary oil in my face. As the day/evening progressed I started getting visitors who were there in hopes of seeing Kennedy but instead they got a front row seat to me in labor (that's love); at that point I didn't give a rats ass about who was in the room and who saw what I was just focused on getting through the contractions (aka terrible pain). The nurses said I would give birth by lunch, come the end of their shift (7pm) I was STILL in labor and still 8cm dilated!! I have video footage of me in labor and it can probably be played in schools across America to prevent teen pregnancy. While I was in a shit ton of pain I was insanely calm and peaceful; I didn't curse not once and well if you haven't noticed by my writing I have a trucker mouth. I spent the entire labor yelling things like "OH SUGAR" and "HOLY FUDGE" the nurses thought I was an angel from heaven meanwhile Jack was wondering what happened to the woman he made a baby with LOL!! 

After my nurses left the doctor came in and gave me the devastating news that if no progress was made within the next 2 hours I would have to be taken in for a c section because of the baby's heart rate. Not only did the baby's heart rate start acting funny but I broke out into a 101 fever so I had to get an emergency c section; for the first time that day I had a break down...I DID NOT WANT A C SECTION but I knew I needed to oblige for the sake of the baby. Thinking back I was probably also full of emotion because now I knew my baby would be coming and SOON! Now to get a c section I needed to get drugged up obviously and they did that with an epidural, good times! As they wheeled me off to the operating room I said my goodbyes to my family and friends as Jack stayed by my side until it was time to get setup in OR then they made him wait outside. Those few minutes that I was without him in that ice cold bright white room were so scary; I was shaking with fear, nerves, and emotion. 

Once I heard his voice "Babe I'm here" and felt his hand on my forehead I felt better; still a wreck but between his presence and the heavy drugs I got through it. Shortly after he got in the room someone in the room said "Dad get up, get your camera ready, you're about to meet your baby" (Geez, I just cried.a little at my laptop) and I could hear Jack's voice shaking "Oh ok ok" then came the cry of our baby!! "Dad what is it? What is it dad? Dad tell mom what it is!" Jack was doing the gender reveal but was in such a daze he kind of took a while to tell me "It's a girl baby, we had a girl, hello Kennedy! OMG she has so much hair! You did it baby! I love you!"! (And I'm crying again) "OMG Jacqueline you just gave birth to a toddler she's GINORMOUS (no joke the doctor said ginormous at least 7 times while in OR), wow she must be a good 9 pounds" NOPE, Miss Kennedy Kay Solivan was TEN POUNDS AND 5 OUNCES...what in the world!!! The entire OR went nuts when they announced her weight, actually the entire labor and delivery until went wild and fell in love with the chubby cheek, full head of highlighted locks baby girl...she was hit! 

And that is the story of Miss Kennedy Kay's birth. The love is unreal!! 

Pee or Water?

"Hi, so I'm not sure how to ask this but here goes nothing...I either just peed my pants or something else just leaked out of me."; those words actually came out of my mouth this weekend! One would think that at 30 years old I would know the difference between different bodily fluids but at 38 weeks pregnant I have officially lost all control of body and logic. At this point in the game I seriously cannot tell the difference between: piss, sweat, water, or discharge (there is no such thing as TMI when it comes to pregnancy so I'm not apologizing for the language) it all seems the same to me! 

So yeah we had our first scare (hoping there are no more scares, it triggered some major anxiety) this weekend; we thought Bebe Solivan was going to join us in this world. While attempting to try on a dress at the Gap (it was a Zara dress that I had just bought because I had zero patience for the long Zara fitting room line, holy side track!) I literally started leaking/dripping...I'm talking drops of liquid on the damn changing room floor!! Jack was in the fitting room next to me and thought I was calling him over to check out my outfit...WRONG!! "Babe I'm leaking" I said calmly but with a look of terror as I flashed my very unattractive undergarments and pointed to the wet spots on the floor. God bless Jack for having the ability to stay calm for my sanity in every damn situation although this time I definitely noticed an eye bulge occur haha. I went to the bathroom to check out the scene but like I mentioned above I can't tell the damn difference between any of my GD bodily fluids anymore so that served zero purpose other than releasing my never not empty bladder. Jack suggested we go home but there was a Chick-Fil-A at the mall and I was not about to miss out on that even though I was having a minor panic attack thinking "this is the day". Before heading home we decided to stop by Best Buy to buy a Go Pro (and head strap) because we are either super sentimental or sick in the head and want to record the moment. Our priorities weren't completely jacked up, I did call the doctor who made me feel much better about not knowing the difference between pissing my pants and water fact she said "that's normal" and told me I could have a slow leak and just to monitor the leakage and baby's movement. Needless to say we were on edge the rest of the day even as I "Cha Cha Slide(d)" my behind off at my cousins wedding that night (listen, my grandma said the more active I am the easier this baby will come out) hell I even kayaked and fished the next day (found some nice rocks to give birth on just in case). 

I mentioned it in a previous post nothing about not knowing the gender has stressed me out BUT not knowing


But like my bodily fluids, it is out of my control so all we can do is wait. The  carseat is in place and hospital bags are packed and ready to go, 38 weeks down who knows how many to go!

Finish Line

According to my pregnancy app we are 3 weeks and 3 days away from Bebe Solivan's due date and I am all over the place emotionally! I am beyond excited to meet our see if it is a son or a daughter, will he/she have Jack's bright green eyes and my chubby cheeks? For the most part I have been out of character chill during this pregnancy (in regards to baby things) but suddenly I'm starting to get hit with waves of anxiety about the unknown; not about the baby's physical traits but important things like: when will he/she make their entrance, what is labor going to be like, and how the hell do we take care of a baby. There really is no "how to" manual out there, actually I take that back there are TOO many "how to" manuals and they all say something completely different so we're back at square one...clueless!

I know everyone says once the baby comes you magically figure it out, I guess it's kind of like how breast milk magically comes out once the baby is out?! But seriously how many often do I have feed the baby? Changing I guess I can figure out by checking the diaper. Do babies actually never sleep and cry all that a real thing? There is only one way to find out...eek!! My one hope is to be the mom I can be to this little angel; giving them a life of love, laughter, and adventure. The most asked question recently has been "are you ready to get that baby out?" and the answer is not at all! Despite the awful sleep and daily dose of nausea I'm really loving this little baby inside of me and am in no rush for he/she to come out...there is no getting this time back. So for the next few days/weeks I will just continue to embrace pregnancy with belly rubs and tummy chats from Jack and Charlie as my protector; pretty soon we will be a party of 4!

Gender Reveal

"HE OR SHE WHAT WILL IT BE?" that was the name of my Pintrest board dedicated to gender reveal ideas long before having a baby was even a topic of conversation. Then, I got pregnant and suddenly all that planning went right out the window, just like every other plan I had (I am starting to get the idea that plans are kind of a joke during this time). The decision to not find out the gender actually wasn't even up for discussion; when we found out I was pregnant we both just knew we didn't want to find out. In the back of my mind I think the lost of the first pregnancy and the challenges we faced brought on our complete certainty in that decision. I'm not sure, I just know it's the perfect decision for us. It's really funny because a solid 98% of the people around us are going crazy with us not finding out the gender. Outside of them simply wanting to know they cannot believe that a control freak planner like myself is not dying to know so I can "prepare".  Luckily, this mama is a neutral freak in both decor and clothing so it's not changing anything on my end; the nursery nook (not doing a whole room just yet) will be perfect for a little lady or gentleman and as far as clothes I'm thinking they'll be living in yummy white onesies for a little while (with a touch of greys, ivory, and navy).

Here is the way we see it: In today's world we have instant gratification to anything and everything, so there really are no surprises in life. That combined with my inability to be surprised (that control freak thing I mentioned earlier) makes this moment one of life's very few surprises.

With that Bebe Solivan Gender Reveal: July 2017!



Hello Bump

Days before entering the second trimester my beautiful and amazingly talented friend Nicole pulled out her camera for a little photo session. I was not feeling very pretty (remember I was down for the count) plus I was super bloated (nobody warned me about constipation during pregnancy, holy shit!) but I am so freaking glad we took the time to capture these moments in our home. Below are a few of my favorites, I'll cherish these forever!

First Trimester Survival

Nothing in this world could have prepared me for the insane changes my body was going to undergo during the first few weeks/months of pregnancy. The thought of pregnancy always excited me; the cute baby bump, glowing skin, and the fact that life would be growing inside of me. Boy was I in for a surprise when I found myself glued to the bathroom floor from the moment I woke up until I finally passed out (literally because of dehydration). The doctors diagnosed me with hyperemesis gravidarum which basically means my body is sensitive to all the hormones and in turn I get sick AF; by sick I mean throwing up anything and everything ALL DAY (legit 10 times a day) and since I couldn't hold anything down I would get VERY weak due to the lack of nutrients. They pumped me up with nutrients, gave me some medication (Zofran), and put me on bed rest for an ENTIRE MONTH (the most torturous sentencing for Miss Independent); this episode repeated itself a few times throughout the first trimester. Also, I had NO IDEA that constipation during pregnancy was a thing...holy shit that is a killer! All the plans I had for adorable weekly photos went right out the window at week 5, mind you my pregnancy was confirmed at 4 weeks so those cute pics had a 1 week life span.

I struggled not only physically but emotionally as well. For starters, I felt completely useless; I could not do a thing around the house or for myself. Thank God blessed me with Jack as my partner; he took charge of everything without thinking twice (cleaning, cooking, working, bills, Charlie, hell he even had to bathe me),  he did all of it with such joy and pride, and constantly reminded me that my bed rest state was a much larger task than all the tasks he had..."you're growing our baby, you're Superwoman"! My biggest struggle was "mom guilt" (I didn't really know that was a thing let alone SO damn early in the game)! I felt bad that I had to take medication (you always hear pregnancy and medicine is a NO NO) and despite doctors telling me I HAD to I still felt uneasy; but I guess the doctors know a thing or two because without the medication I was back in the hospital causing harm to me and the baby. Part 2 of the "mom guilt" was the fact that a felt absolutely miserable; for a while I held in the truth when folks asked me how I was because I did not for one second want to seem that I was not beyond excited for this blessing.

All in all the first trimester (actually the first 4 months) was an absolute blur of very slow passing time but I survived (down 11 pounds) but now ready to make up for lost time for the rest of this pregnancy!

Holy Hormones

Jesus, what is happening to me? Oh yeah I'm pregnant! Everyday I'm looking up something new on the web: nipples on fire, super emotional, nausea, super emotional, non stop urination, super emotional, lack of appetite, super emotional, bloating, super emotional, mouth tastes like pennies, super emotional, exhausted. The answer I get for each search result: pregnancy symptom due to hormones; well fuck you hormones. I have a love hate relationship with these symptoms; I am excited to experience symptoms because I love the idea of pregnancy and they are a result of this beautiful miracle BUT holy shit they are hard on the body. What blows my mind is how quickly my body shifted to pregnant, like I feel "just pregnant" like I JUST got pregnant so how the hell can I be experiencing all this already?! Well according to the 8 pregnancy apps I've downloaded (no exaggeration) these first few weeks (aka the first trimester) is the most intense because the body is on hormone crack prepping for this little nugget. Physically it's the equivalent to a man mountain climbing 7 hours a day, which I 100% believe because I am insanely exhausted...I'm talking face and pillow full of drool exhausted! If there was one symptom I could give back it would be the hyper sensitivity and emotions, I am already a sensitive and emotional human being so throwing in all these extra hormones...JESUS! Last week was rough, I literally lost my shit because Jack spilled juice on the sofa...LOST.MY.SHIT!! I got so cray, Jack looked like a deer in headlights and I swear I saw the comic book thought bubble pop up "THIS BITCH IS FUCKING PSYCHO" (I sure was!). It took us a few days to regroup and simmer down so we could have an adult conversation to discuss what was up and I thank goodness that is behind us now. I'm so glad I can laugh about crying over spilled "milk". I guess this is pregnancy lol.

Cheers to the next 8 months!