Posted by: Morgan | May 17, 2013

Caelynn Grace Honor

As I have contemplated writing out this birth story, I’ve come to the conclusion that this story isn’t really about the actual birth as much as it is about all the times surrounding the birth. I didn’t even realize it until after, when the peace and calm enveloped me and I knew I’d finally settled into a time of being the mom I was created to be.

All of my pregnancies have been hard in their own way – either due to extended morning sickness, emotional instability, or outside forces – but this one was definitely the hardest of the three. The week we learned we were pregnant Caleb began working out of town Monday through Friday and I learned that my parents were beginning the process to divorce. I began getting sick and exhausted when my main support was 3 hours away, and while I was fighting through processing the news about my parents. Breakdowns were frequent and ultimately led to my midwife writing a letter to Caleb’s employer requiring that he be transferred back or the family be moved out to be with him, for my health and the health of the baby. The following Monday he was back in Fort Worth, and I began doing immensely better.

Shortly after I began seeing a therapist to work through the breakdown and processing my feelings concerning my family and parents. Because my family has always been very core to me, I feared that the anger and resentment that seemed to be building would negatively affect my birth. I had to make some of the most painful decisions of my life in setting boundaries with members of my family, including requiring that one of my parents would not contact me at all. I was able to push this all to the back of my mind most of the pregnancy, but it still sat as a dark cloud that I was always slightly aware of. Obviously none of this has to do with the actual day of birth, but it is so tied into it in my mind that it must be a part of this story.

My pregnancy progressed very well, from a physical perspective, from this point on. The baby did well the entire time and my care was the best I’ve ever received during pregnancy. The team we built around us was focused on Christ and I cannot imagine the last ten months without them in my life. My community here in Fort Worth surrounded us and I learned what it means to have people really truly care about my family.

Typically I get very impatient once I hit 37 weeks, the gestation that allows a midwife to attend a home birth. I worked very hard at being calm and peaceful about going full term during this pregnancy, and really felt alright when I hit 37 weeks. I joked online about being done, but really I was calm about being pregnant for quite a while longer. Some days were hard and I was tired of being pregnant, but those were few and far between. Then I had a full afternoon and night of labor – feeling so real we had the birth pool set up and the midwife almost ready to come to our house. Then they just stopped. Two days later another four or five hours of labor – and then nothing. A week later another few hours of labor that slowed down again. Although I was content to wait as long as baby needed me to, the false hopes that prep labor brought me wore me down. I knew that my body was preparing and doing what it needed to do, but the days following prep labor were hard. The kids picked up on my stress, making the last couple weeks that much harder.

Saturday, May 4th, I hit 40 weeks gestation. I’ve never made it to my due date, so this brought on questions we’d never had to answer directly before, regarding non-stress tests, biophysical sonograms, and natural induction methods. On Sunday morning I began having consistent labor, which lasted consistently through the entire day and into the night. The spacing was 6-9 minutes and each wave lasted 1-2 minutes. I woke up the next morning knowing intuitively that my body had been trying to get into an established labor, but something was off and preventing it from doing so. I called my midwife and shared my feelings with her – with which she agreed. We decided to send me to her chiropractor for an adjustment and then for me to meet her at the birth center with my breast pump to see if we could help my body get into established labor with nipple stimulation. As I was preparing to leave for the chiropractor I went to the bathroom, and very apparently lost my mucus plug. I called Caleb to let him know what was going on and mentioned the loss. He immediately told me he’d meet me at the chiropractors and was going to take the rest of the week off. “We’re having a baby today, Morgan”. I didn’t really believe him, after so much prep labor, but I didn’t argue.

I received a great adjustment, and then got the kids set off with my mother-in-law and then Caleb drove me down to the birth center. By the time we arrived any labor that had been going on in the morning stopped. My midwife did a non-stress for the baby, which turned out fine, and we discussed our options. Although one of our original agreements was to have absolutely no vaginal exams, we decided to do one to double check that the baby’s head was engaged in the pelvis at a good angle. I requested to not know the dilation, as I don’t believe dilation truly indicates a woman’s place in labor and the numbers mess with my head. Afterwards, though, Caleb said I’d probably like to know what it was. Sitting there, with absolutely no contractions, I was dilated to 5-6 cm. I was shocked.

The three of us decided to go to lunch and had a fantastic meal at a local Mexican restaurant. During lunch labor picked back up again, but only required moments of deep relaxation during the peak of each wave. It was during the drive home that labor really picked up – I completely blame the roads and railroad bumps. I’ve never been in a vehicle in labor before and I cannot say I was missing anything! I can’t believe so many women routinely get into their car to drive to their birth place while in fully active labor! I definitely hope to never be in a car again while laboring.


Once home Caleb began to set up the birth pool and I started working on my little ‘birth day to do list’, pausing every few minutes to relax during intense waves of labor. Once it felt like every other minute I was having to stop, I asked Caleb to call our midwife. She started on her way to us, as did our birth photographer. Our photographer showed up first and chatted with me in between the waves, which now took all my concentration to relax through.


In between I was calm and chatty, bouncing between Facebook and a private Instagram feed I’d set up to document the birth. My midwife showed up, followed quickly by another midwife’s sister, who was shadowing them at my birth. The two of them, along with Caleb and my photographer, kept me company over the next hour. Every wave required my full attention, but none were so strong I was afraid. I relaxed perfectly into each wave and felt peaceful – moving between sitting on the birth ball or laying over it. I thought to myself “these can’t be stronger than me, because they are me”. It helped. I imagined that each wave and pain was just a muscle stretching in good exercise. I still didn’t believe I was in active labor. I didn’t believe we would have a baby that day.


Then I just knew I needed to lay down – whether for exhaustion or for less intensity, I don’t recall.


I had been snuggled into the pillow on the couch for a few waves when I was overwhelmed with emotion regarding my mom. I hadn’t spoken to her in over 5 months and couldn’t believe I was going through this experience without her actively in my life. I began sobbing, cuing Caleb and my midwife to come to my side. They began to pray over me and in the next couple minutes I had four intense peaks during the prayer and told them immediately after that I needed to pee and then get into the pool. They felt the water was a little on the cool side, but that I could get in if I wanted to. I did.

It was cool. It wasn’t relaxing. But now I was wet and another wave was coming. It was intense and I sank onto my knees, holding onto the side of the pool. The water was deep. I think my midwife was in front of me. I think Caleb got into the water sometime soon. The water was cool and the waves were intense. I kept saying I wasn’t comfortable. I had started trembling and shaking and couldn’t stop myself. I knew I was going through transition, but we had agreed to not identify transition for this labor to help me through it. But I knew. I told someone I just wanted to stop shaking. The waves were even more intense.


And then suddenly it felt like every piece of my body internal began pushing down toward the floor, and stretching. The pain and strength were too much for me; I couldn’t imagine how this could be me, because it was so strong and so intense. My body wasn’t this strong, couldn’t achieve this intensity. Caleb moved in the water and the movement of the water shifted me. It hurt and I told him to stop moving. The door opened and I saw the two assistant midwives arrive. I don’t know where they went right then as another wave began. It pulled at me. I moaned and groaned. I tried to bite the towel they had placed on the edge of the pool for me to lean against, but it didn’t help, it only hurt my jaw – something which irritated me. I asked or demanded for a fan, some air on my face. I think I demanded, because I remember those around seeming a bit frantic to get something to fan me with. They stopped after a little bit and I demanded they continue. I didn’t understand why they would stop. Another wave pulled at me. I told them I didn’t want to do it anymore, that it was too painful. I didn’t like it, and I told them that. In between the next wave I remember asking my midwife how I was supposed to let my body push the baby out, because that’s what I wanted – I wanted to not push at all, and just let my uterus do it. She said to just breathe through every wave and let my body tell me what to do. Another wave tore at me.

Then she wanted to check the baby’s heart tones and I rolled to my back against Caleb for her to do so. The water was so deep I couldn’t stay grounded. She said something about thinking my water had broken and that it was clear. I rolled back against the wall and said “No, that was just my vagina farting” and I remember hearing laughter. Caleb said I sounded drunk, and I remember sounding drunk. The next wave felt pushy, like my body was thinking about pushing. I asked if I should move – and was told if I felt I should. I said I didn’t want to, that I didn’t like this. I asked if it would hurt less if I moved. Someone said it wouldn’t hurt more, so I rolled back to lean on Caleb. And then my body began pushing down. I remember only one break for what seemed like 10-20 minutes, although could have easily been shorter. Every ounce of my body was bearing down, pushing my baby out. I leaned back, arching, trying to escape the intensity and pain. My body wasn’t listening to me and it wouldn’t stop. I remember crying out to God to give me some break, but the pushing continued. They said my water broke and it wasn’t clear. My body continued. One small break. I didn’t like how deep the water was, and I said to get some water out. I don’t know if they did or not. I was too buoyant and I couldn’t find my center.

I remember yelling at them, confused – “What is going on?!”. Several of them replied “You’re pushing your baby out!”…but that wasn’t what I was asking. I yelled it again. They didn’t know what to answer. I KNEW I was pushing my baby out, but I didn’t understand what was happening, how close I was, if she was coming out. All I knew was the overwhelming power of my body.

Then I had to lean to the left. I leaned and leaned. Caleb said he had to hold me with all of his strength so I didn’t submerge myself. When I leaned I started pushing too. Records show I pushed for four minutes, although I know my body was bearing down on its own for much longer than that. I felt my pelvis widening, and my body bearing down with me. I couldn’t tell when or if there were waves, I just had to live through the overwhelming power of my body. And then it changed. I yelled out “She’s coming out NOW” and she was. And then someone said her head was born – it didn’t feel any different. I think I glanced down but my body was still overwhelming me. Someone said to wait for the next contraction, but I didn’t know when one began or ended, I didn’t know when to push or not to push. I just knew that my body was taking a small break. Seconds of a break. And then it overwhelmed me again and my daughter was born.


She was on my chest. She was dark and wide eyed, as my children always are in their first moments out of water. I checked and knew she was a girl. I felt calm. I didn’t hear anything, it was quiet – the peace and serenity were just as intense and overwhelming as the pain had been moments before. I didn’t feel a birth high like I had with the other two. I felt confidence, peace, and intense calm. I looked down at her and told the room “She is so fat!” – because she was. I told them about her double chin and I knew a midwife was trying to get her to cry. She wasn’t crying and she was dark. I wasn’t worried. Emma hadn’t cried for a long time when she was born. I knew she was okay. And then she cried and I started hearing the noises in the room again.

She was checked and I was asked if we could move. We moved into the bedroom and I settled into bed. I held her close to me. We worked at nursing and everyone left the room except Caleb. We snuggled, and made phone calls, and admired her fat little face. After pains began, but the placenta didn’t release for over an hour. My other two beautiful children visited and I sat in awe watching the three of them near each other. She was measured and checked and weighed. 8 pounds and 6 ounces, the largest of all my children so far.


That first night it was just Caleb, me and her. As all the midwives left I whispered to Caleb “I know we’ve done this before, but why are they leaving us alone with her? So scary!” And yet it wasn’t at all. During her first time to wake and cry, we calmly changed her and fed her and nestled back down with her to sleep. I was in awe of us, of our confidence and peace. I felt happy. My other two children returned the next day and my husband stayed home for a week with us. The day following her birth I felt better than I had three weeks postpartum with my other two, but I forced myself to complete bedrest (or couch rest) for the first full 6 days. I rested, and felt fantastic, and knew that I was going to be okay being a mommy to three.

herbal bath

I feel like this birth was less about the actual moment of birth, but more about the following week – about the confidence I felt and the solid knowledge that I was where I was supposed to be as a mother. I knew I could do it, because I knew I was created for this. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we only had three children because it felt complete and total. The first week alone during the day with the three kids went so well. It wasn’t until Friday evening that I had a hard time, and even during that time I knew it was postpartum hormones and I would be okay.

I feel like I’m the mother I was created to be now. I feel confident. I feel happy. I am thankful.


Posted by: Morgan | August 9, 2012

One more day!

I’m absolutely ecstatic about going back to being a full-time stay-at-home mom! Tomorrow is my last ‘official’ day at work, though I will probably come in for a few hours one or two days next week, and I cannot believe it’s finally here. I know that the three of us will go through some transition time while adjusting to me being the at-home parent, but I think we’ll settle into a good rhythm soon.

I’m excited about starting to focus on Emma’s artistic and creative interests, work on structure and concepts like ‘days of the week’ and ‘weather charts’, and start exploring the world of more ‘formal’ learning with her. I’m excited about being home with Logan all day, learning more about him, and helping him learn better how to communicate with others.¬†I’m excited to finish unpacking our little home, even while at the same time going through everything and repacking to prepare for our move down to south Texas.

I still think Caleb and I needed these past 10 months, to give ourselves a break as well as learn to truly appreciate the place in life we’re in. He’s so happy to be working again and I know I’ll have a different view of cleaning, cooking, and caring for the family than I did before.

Just one more full work-day and the next phase has begun!

Posted by: Morgan | June 14, 2012

Logan’s Evaluation

Today we finally were able to get to the oft-rescheduled evaluation for Logan with ECI. I was able to move my hours and take him. We were scheduled to meet with two therapists, one of which is an occupational therapist. Halfway through the evaluation they learned that the speech therapist’s scheduled appointment had been canceled, so she was available to come evaluate Logan (apparently her wait time is extraordinary).

Overall, he is delayed 45-66%, depending on the category being evaluated. His expressive communication is the lowest, with him being placed at 7 months. His highest is 14 months, so there is definite delays in every area. We were able to decide on some 6-month goals and they gave me some strategies to use at home to work with him. A therapist will be coming to the house twice a month to work with him and help us learn how to teach him, and we’ll also be going to ECI occasionally to do updated evaluations.

On the autistic screening evaluation, he was checked on a ‘pass/fail’ for 23 different questions, 7 of which are considered critical. He failed on 15 out of 23, and 6 out of 7 critical questions. This definitely puts him on the radar for autism evaluation in the future.


They also agreed that he has major sensory issues, based on his banana obsession (that recently ended) and the fact that he’s so oral; absolutely everything goes into his mouth. They want us to ask the therapist to focus on sensory integration.


So Caleb and I now have a few things to work with him on at home and will be scheduling follow-up appointments soon. Some of our goals for the next 6 months are for him to:

  • Be able to imitate 4-5 signs. We will be working on ‘more’, ‘drink’, ‘eat’, ‘my turn’, and ‘all done’.
  • Point to what he wants.
  • Make sounds for toys (cars, trains) and animals.
  • Participate in reciprocal play (rolling a ball between him and another person).
  • Asking for ‘my turn’ when wanting a toy.


I’m really pleased with the experience and the evaluation really just confirmed to me what we already were thinking. I’m interested to see his progress as we use these tools.



Posted by: Morgan | March 5, 2012

Little dude

We had to bump Logan’s appointment because of the move, and should be getting in for his evaluation at the end of March.

However, in the past three weeks my little boy has shown that while he may be “delayed”, he’s not stagnating. He’s seeking out others, playing with everyone, laughing at things he does to us, giving us kisses, responding to his name more often (still not super often), and being way more communicative about what he wants.

He makes me smile a lot.

Posted by: Morgan | February 2, 2012

Little Buddy – ECI Appointment

Our initial ECI appointment was Wednesday afternoon. It went well and was mostly just a lot of paperwork and some questions about Logan’s daily routine. His first evaluation is scheduled for the 8th and I will update once it’s completed.

Logan was very happy to interact and play around us while she was here. He was also drooling over all of the paperwork. We’re pretty sure there are a few teeth coming in. ūüôā

Thanks for keeping updated!

Posted by: Morgan | January 22, 2012

Happy Buddy

Today we all danced to Adele and ran around the living room. Today Logan climbed up onto the couch to attack Emma and I.  He laughed uproariously when I jumped and acted surprised.  He looked into our eyes, tried to make us laugh, and jumped back onto us to get us going all over again.

I never noticed before that these moments didn’t happen all the time, like they do with Emma. ¬†It was just who my buddy was. He’s more quiet, calm, and chilled out. ¬†And I was okay with that last week…so I’m okay with it this week too. ¬†He hasn’t changed at all. ¬†He’s still my happy little buddy.

Perhaps he will have more difficulty than our other children to communicate when he’s older. ¬†Perhaps we’ll have to learn sign language or ways of helping him tell us what he’s thinking more clearly. ¬†Perhaps he’ll always be quiet and more reserved. ¬†That’s perfectly okay with me. ¬†He can hear my voice, he knows I love him, and I know he loves me. ¬†Maybe he doesn’t show it the same way Emma does, but how boring would that be anyway? ¬†I love that my kids are so different from one another.

I wouldn’t have changed my buddy for a million dollars if you’d asked me a week ago. ¬†I wouldn’t change my buddy for a trillion dollars if you asked me today. ¬†He’s my happy buddy and I’m so happy to be his mama.

Posted by: Morgan | January 20, 2012

My little buddy – Part 2

I’m going to cut to the chase for those who are waiting to know how the appointment this morning went: his hearing is perfectly fine. ¬†(For those who aren’t sure what this is all about, see Part 1)

Today they were testing the actual signals his ear sends to his brain, so he had to be asleep for the test. This required us keeping him up late last night and waking him early this morning, as well as not letting him fall back to sleep until we got to the doctor’s office. ¬†That was actually the worst part of the day; having to poke at his face while he was literally almost dead with exhaustion in the car, to keep him awake.

Once we were into the test room, we laid him on his blanket on the table and turned down the lights. They attached electrodes behind his ears and on his forehead. He fell asleep very soon after that.  They put a little bud into each ear and then tested by sending sound into his ears. He slept peacefully through the entire thing.

We got the results right away. No issues. All the sound gets through his ear and is transmitted perfectly to his brain.

This seems inconsiderate to say, but I was really hoping he had a hearing impairment. ¬†I wanted to stop with the ‘easy fix’, the challenge that was known and could be quantified. ¬†The doctor was extremely supportive and encouraging, but the smile on her face felt like it didn’t belong in the room. ¬†She couldn’t assure me that he reactions were normal or on track, even for a “late” developer. ¬†She gave us some brochures to go over, saying so genuinely “This will help you see where he is and where he should be developmentally with hearing. His test results were SO great!”

It was supposed to encourage me, but instead it left me with a paper that told me that, unless my child had hearing issues (which he did not), that he was severely behind where he should be. ¬†I want to stop right now and assure everyone that I’m not talking about realistically realizing that not all children will ¬†hit the average milestones in the average time. Some will be faster and some will be slower, and that’s perfectly normal and totally okay. ¬†I’m not talking about 2-3 months behind his peers; I’m talking 6-9 months behind his peers.

I don’t get how we never saw this before. ¬†My arms feel like lead as I type this… why now? Why didn’t we catch a clue sooner? ¬†And then there’s this annoying voice that rips up through my heart – “Are you sure you’re not being over dramatic? Obviously his hearing is fine. Stop trying to get attention and be a drama queen. Leave him alone, he’s fine.” – I hate that voice. I’m terrified of that voice. I’m scared that it’s right and I’m being stupid. ¬†I’m scared that I’ll listen to it, it’ll be wrong and I’ll regret it.

I feel like a puzzle was dumped in front of me last Sunday, but without a final picture and without all the pieces. Throughout the week new pieces, edges and corners, have been added to the pile – I’m just trying to figure out how they all piece together. ¬†I just got another corner piece and it’s not the corner piece I was wanting. I’m confused, tired, and my arms are heavy. So heavy. ¬†My heart wouldn’t stop racing last night or this morning, like I was nervous or overdosed on a medication. ¬†It made me feel weak and woozy, and I hated it. ¬†I think it was the stress…so much stress.

I know that ECI is going to call me back. And I know that my buddy is happy and still the same little buddy. And I know that God is still holding me. And I know that today is Friday. But that’s pretty much all I know.

Posted by: Morgan | January 19, 2012

My little buddy – Part 1

A lot of people have been catching snippets of what’s going on with Logan, but not the whole story, so instead of relating it all again via Facebook private message, I decided to write it all out in one place. ūüôā ¬†For better reference, Logan is currently 16 months old.

Logan has always been a very chilled out kid. He’s very low-maintenance, especially compared to his older sister, and pretty happy most of the time. ¬†He’s calm, easy to entertain, goes to sleep on his own, and basically just goes with the flow. ¬†He’s always been on the small side and a couple months behind his peers developmentally, but we really didn’t worry about either. ¬†He is healthy and is hitting the milestones, just “late”. ¬†He seems like such a quiet kid that nothing has ever stood out to us about him as abnormal. ¬†We often say that he’s just in his own little world, does what he wants, and doesn’t worry much about what others are doing.

One of the most common times we say that he doesn’t care is when he’s in the church nursery. ¬†Unless he’s looking directly at the door when I walk up, he never looks when I call for him. ¬†We always laugh about him not caring at all, and then one of the nursery workers turns him physically toward me; he always gets up fast and runs for the door. ¬†This past weekend one of the moms who works in the church nursery asked me if we’d ever had his hearing checked. We hadn’t; when he was born we didn’t have a pediatrician and by the time we got to his first appointment we didn’t think to have one done then. ¬†I laughed it off, but it stuck with me. ¬†I asked someone else at church and they laughed as well “Logan just doesn’t care. He can hear you just fine.”

But it stuck with me. Monday afternoon we were at the mall playplace and he wasn’t turning when we called. ¬†I reminded Caleb of what had happened that weekend, so we did random snapping noises on either side of his head. He never turned, but it was busy, so we decided to do more “scientific” tests at home. ¬†We put him in the kitchen and then I went to turn on a movie. We think he went in to it, but we weren’t sure. ¬†So as he was watching the movie, Caleb went up behind him and clapped really really¬†loud. ¬†Logan didn’t even blink.

We tried clapping, calling his name, the wooden clapper toy, a tambourine. ¬†He didn’t turn to look once. ¬†He didn’t blink once. ¬†Nothing to make us thing he heard a thing…and let me tell you, even if he wasn’t surprised, all of that noise had¬†to be annoying. It was annoying me¬†and it wasn’t right behind my head.

Since Monday we’ve been “testing” him by calling his name, playing music, starting his favorite movie without the screen on, making clapping noises, etc. ¬†Sometimes it seems like he responds, but he tends to dart around a lot, so we never really can tell if he’s turning toward a sound or just turning because he happened to move that way right then. ¬†Nothing is consistent.

We also noted that he has no language, not even grunts or sounds to indicate he’s trying to communicate. He only cries when something’s wrong or he wants something.

Someone mentioned autism, so we looked it up. ¬†We realized we know nothing about autism except a very narrow stereotype that doesn’t fit most with autism. ¬†Logan matched everything on the two ‘Signs of Autism’ lists, aside from the ‘regression of language’ since he has no language yet. Tuesday I spoke with a friend whose son has autism and, between her and the two lists, we began to realize that there are a lot of seemingly innocent things he does that, when all added together, make him a potential candidate for autism. Things like walking around in circles, preferring one food strongly or exclusively, no language, lack of eye contact, not returning hugs & kisses, not interacting with other children, not copycatting (things like waving).

Several of those things are non-hearing, so they wouldn’t be delayed if he had a hearing loss. Several of them could be delayed based on a hearing loss.

We’ve also learned about sensory disorders, where a person’s brain blocks out or dulls certain senses at different times for various reasons. ¬†We do not know what is going on. It could be hearing loss, it could be autism, it could be a sensory disorder, it could be that he literally is just in his own little world and doesn’t care. ¬†I don’t know.

Wednesday Logan had a hearing test that confirmed his ears are working perfectly, from a mechanical standpoint. ¬†His ears can grab sound. ¬†Tomorrow he has a test to see if his ear is properly sending sound impulses to his brain and, if so, if his brain is receiving those impulses correctly. ¬†If he does have a neurological hearing loss, we will know tomorrow. ¬†If his hearing is perfect, then we will need to explore other reasons why he responds (or doesn’t respond) the way he does. ¬†We have an in-home evaluation with Early Childhood Intervention within the next month that will evaluate him on language, cognitive & motor development, and social interaction.

Thanks to everyone for the prayers and support. ¬†He’s still the same happy little chilled out boy, none of this week changed that. ¬†We just want to be sure we know if something is different than we thought so we can better parent him and teach him to communicate with the world. ¬†If we do have to learn ASL, for example, we feel that we should start learning now so we’re ready when he’s 2 1/2-3 and wanting to converse.

Posted by: Morgan | December 31, 2011

“How do you balance being a mom of two?”

Dear S,

I know you’re a new mom, you’re exhausted from baby waking a lot, and busy learning about being a mom of two, but I’m not going to mince words right now. ¬†I’m going to tell you exactly how it is. ¬†And, in the beginning, it’s hard.

I didn’t balance at the beginning. ¬†I don’t know anyone who did. ¬†I got through moment by moment, taking each one at a time. ¬†I took each naptime as it came, trying to get two separate children to sleep without one waking each other, not thinking about what came after. ¬†I played with the older one when the younger one was sleeping. ¬†I wore the younger one a lot (read: practically all the time). ¬†I insisted on being able to take a shower alone every day, no matter what. ¬†I told my husband I needed to do the grocery shopping when he got home, because I needed that 30 minute break.

I looked at moms of two, or even three, and my mind boggled at them.  How in the WORLD were they able to get both dressed, never mind getting everyone to the store in one piece and relatively happy?  How would I ever think of having more than two, if I was so overwhelmed by just living?

There was never a moment that it just clicked, never a point that I knew “Oh! I’ve got it!”. ¬†I just suddenly would realize the house was clean, and we were all eating dinner on time. ¬†And then I was going to playdates and not thinking twice about it. ¬†And suddenly I realized I was doing it, successfully being a mom of two.

But it didn’t happen right away, and I actually had some full-blown melt downs in the middle there (that’s why there’s a gashing hole in the metal ironing board), but it did happen.

So, basically, I really have no help for you at all (sweet, aren’t I?). ¬†Just an encouragement to focus on each moment as you get to it, not worry (at all) about what you’re not getting to, be happy in the small accomplishments, and know that it will come. Probably faster than you think now. I was doing fine 1 1/2 months in, and after 2 months could handle two kids with my eyes closed and my hand tied behind my back (not really, but almost). ¬†And I guess know that you’re not alone, and it’s really not because you’re doing anything wrong. ¬†Give yourself a lot of grace and smile a lot. ¬† Talk to both of your kids about it, about what you’re doing and how you’re doing, and about how you want the three of you to be a team. ūüôā ¬†It’ll come, mama.

Posted by: Morgan | December 21, 2011

My Dream Stash

For my wrapoholic friend Em…. It could change, but I think this is my ideal stash.

Structured Carriers:


Boba 3G in Glacier


A Wrap Conversion Mei Tai made from Natibaby Avacado


Wrap Conversion Mei Tai (by request of my husband) made from Natibaby РColorway: Feugo 



Ellevill Zara Cotton Wrap – Colorway: Sun – Size: 5/6


Didymos Cotton Wrap – Colorway: Mia – Size: 6


Ellevill Zara Silk Wrap- Colorway: She – Size: 4


Natibaby Cotton Wrap – Colorway: Rhodes – Size: 4.6m


Girasol Wrap – Colorway: Fire Rainbow – Size: 4.6m

Ring Slings: 


SnuggyBaby  Sea Glass Tile Linen Banded ring sling


Natibaby Ring Sling – Colorway: Brezo

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