My Dear Eva Diva
I thought sending your sister to kindergarten was hard, but wow. This is my hardest day. O my little baby. From the second I found out you were in my belly until today, I’ve been with you, protecting you. I’ve been crying over you. I’ve been in love with you. I thank god for our rough road. If it hadn’t of been so rough, who knows what our bond would look like. But it was, and you were the baby I almost lost. You are my miracle, you are my fighter. You are my Eva Diva. You are the girl I prayed harder for than I have ever prayed in my life. You are my perfect blue-eyed angel meant to change me forever, and you did, and you still do. Continue reading
My dear Olive,
It’s 5:45 am on August 15th 2018, your first day of kindergarten. This day has always seemed so far away. I don’t think reality has even hit me yet.
I’m writing this blog today because over the past couple weeks a few of my friends have fallen victim to some big mouth mistakes. I’m calling them mistakes because I don’t believe people are trying to be offensive when they say some of the dumb shit that they say. So, I thought maybe we could all use a refresher course on how to not be an asshole.
#1. Mind your own uterus. Do not congratulate someone on their pregnancy unless you know for sure they are pregnant. Instances when you know for sure; they have announced their pregnancy or the baby is crowning. Continue reading
For those of you who have not read our past stories, you can read them here.
when you get knocked down- part 1
when you get knocked down – part 2
when you get knocked down part 3
Developmental delays and speech delays are a real problem. Now that we are moving forward on our own journey, I hope to shed some light on this issue. If you are just joining our story, please understand that we know how fortunate we are in comparison to other parents and children on a path much more difficult than our own.
Hearing that your child is average is not something that throws most parents into happy tears.
A year ago, my husband and I left the “most” parents club.
My Dear Olive,
I was 26 and not married when I found out I was going to be your mom. I must have taken 100 pregnancy tests before I believed you were true. Your daddy was excited right away, and I thought he must be crazy. What a huge responsibility had been gifted to us and I was worried. I’m just being honest here, I was scared shit-less!
The first time I saw your little heart beat on the ultrasound screen is the last time I ever felt alone. As you grew in my belly, I talked to you all the time. People would remark on how often I held my belly. It was some weird instinct so you would know I was there. All of the hormones and emotions were overwhelming. The most overwhelming feeling was love.
One of my favorite things about my life is never knowing what kind of text or email I’m going to wake up to. Sometimes it’s a mucus plug, sometimes it’s a breastfeeding issue, a picture of a baby rash, etc. I never know what my phone will reveal before my first cup of coffee, and I love it. This morning it was a few texts from one of my pregnant besties. The story of how she had just been completely fondled by the TSA, trying to get on her flight for a work trip.
I totally must have forgotten to brief her on “flying pregnant” protocol. My family and I travel a lot, so I wrote “When Babies Fly”, to humorously review traveling with kids. Today, the prequel, I bring you The Pregnant Terrorist.
So, a quick back story to a whole lot of history. I met my friend Leea at work, a department store. We had mutual friends, but didn’t become close until my computer illiteracy took over. I needed help making a sale sign. We started talking that day 10 years ago, and haven’t shut up since.
Leea was diagnosed with breast cancer just after I gave birth to my second daughter. Being only a few years older than myself, this was shocking, to say the least. I feel like the news didn’t even sink in before Leea, the eternal optimist, was assuring everyone, that this was going to be OK. I mean, she hit cancer, and chemo, and the whole deal, head on. We have had some very candid conversations, and she never lost faith. Even on the worst of days she stayed positive.