If you’ve stopped by the blog lately, you know there are a lot of heartstrings being pulled as we reminisce about the little ones growing up.
Have you ever thought to yourself, “I never thought my husband and I would get here.”(Especially within the first couple years of marriage?) To be completely honest, I knew adding a bundle of joy to our family would come with added stress, pressure, and sleepless nights, but I didn’t expect Josh and I to bicker as much as we did within those first couple of months.
I don’t know about you, but I’m the mom with a million things on her brain at all times. Whether it’s meal-planning, scheduling the babes’ days, operating a side hustle, or dreaming about the next time I can take a shower in peace, my mind is always running.
Here’s how it all went down. Risden was 11 months old. At this time I was still breastfeeding; however, my milk supply was sinking faster than my bank account after a trip to Target. I tried all of the tricks to increase your milk supply like guzzling tons of water, pumping more frequently, and taking Fenugreek. Sadly, these tricks didn’t help like I hoped they would, and the milk seemed to disappear before my eyes.
Did you know it has been estimated that the average human being has around 50,000 thoughts per day? (That’s insane!)
You may not have realized the scale of that number, but have you ever considered the kinds of thoughts you allow into your mind? How many of the 50,000 are positive? How many are negative?
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started and stopped writing this post.
On this attempt, Lilly sits on the couch watching a movie (she’s feeling a little under the weather) and I start jotting down my thoughts laying on the floor next to her. She looks so perfect in that moment, that I kiss her little foot—which has lost all of the extra delicious baby chunk it once contained. It’s long, skinny, and it has Barbie pink toenails. It’s not the foot of a baby; it’s the foot of a little girl.
As I write this, Maddie is officially 38 weeks old—exactly how long she was in utero. “38 weeks in, 38 weeks out.” I’ve been fortunate enough to have an amazing breastfeeding journey with her these past 8.5 months, and while I never envisioned going beyond a year, this weird part of me isn’t ready for it to end in a couple of months.
Is it because she’s my last baby? Is it because it’s actually kind of easy this go-round? Is it because breastfeeding is literally the only thing allowing me to skip the gym AND burn calories? I guess it will remain a mystery… 😉