I remember it as if it was yesterday and yet feel such a distance from that time. I was one day short of a month from giving birth to my second child. None of it was expected to be easy and it went all worse than I even prepared for. Some minor medical complications led to ten doctor appointments in her first fourteen days, but that didn’t compare to the constant crying. 

I wasn’t sleeping much, which was the norm for my years in early motherhood. I was balancing a nearly three year old with a colicky baby often on my own while my husband worked 24 hour shifts. I was tired and frazzled to the point that I was seriously concerned I may accidentally leave one of the kids in a hot car. Early motherhood is like that, the irrational fears sneak in under the cover of sleep deprivation penetrating your brain with tiresome and needless worry. 

My mother came down and took the screaming baby off my hands for five hours so that we could take our older son to a local amusement park. The following picture is less than flattering, but perfectly depicts exactly my condition at that point. I was a mom who was giving everything I had to that little family and that meant that there wasn’t much time for me. My son who found the photo yesterday referred to my appearance as a teenager from some Nick teen show in the eighties.  Did he say teenager? I’ll take it even if he wasn’t trying to be kind. 


Maternity jeans, no sleep, no highlights and simply exhausted. This is young motherhood. 

Things certainly are a lot easier these days! 


Still no makeup, but eventually I made it out of the maternity jeans and the sleepless nights. It comes, I promise. 


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