Mommy Mishaps. Secrets Revealed.

Admit it. There is not a single one of you out there that has not had a mommy mishap you didn’t wish you could take back. We’ve all succumbed to our ego as mothers…it is I believe the very nature of motherhood to grow us spiritually. My kids have taught me more than anyone how to live in the moment, love unconditionally, and forgive myself completely. For my mistakes will only teach me if I choose to learn from them.

Photo by Luma Pimentel on Unsplash

Don’t Shake the Baby

As a nurse, this is a no-brainer. Actually as a human being. Shaking an infantout of frustration when you simply don’t know how to calm them down is dangerous…even fatal. This is why I believe it is so important to share my story, and the truth about what I have experienced as a young mother.

It is my first baby, my beautiful lovely boy, that has always tested me the most. On some level I believe he is my greatest teacher, as he brings out the worst of my ego and forces me to face in myself what I am least willing to see.

As an infant, my husband and I walked, rocked, sang, patted, danced, and sleep-walked him every night for what felt like years. Nothing we did seemed to help, as I implemented everything I could think of or read about to stop his tears.

Gas drops, evening baths, car-rides…nothing seemed to help.

My darkest moment was when for a split second I lost my mind. I looked directly into his eyes and out of pure distraught and frustration I shook him. Horrified, I cradled him to my shoulder, sure I had damaged him for life in that single most shameful moment.

Fortunately I had not. But my story does not end there.

My second son brought me very similar frustration when he was only months old. Unbelievably, it happened again. I never thought I would hurt my child but in an instant of insanity, I had allowed my ego to overcome my sense of love and empathy for this pure and innocent being. I’ll never forget his squeal of fear and I was sure I would never gain his trust again.

It is only I believe by the grace of God that neither of my children were injured, or even more incredibly, they maintained their pure love and trust in me as their mother. It has taken me years to forgive myself for something they never judged me on for a moment. Despite their young age, or maybe because of it, they reached out to me with pure unconditional love with their instantaneous forgiveness.

I teach all my new mothers that shaken baby syndrome is a real thing. That they MUST put their baby down in a safe place and WALK AWAY until they themselves are calm. Most look at me like I’m out of my mind…but I will never quit saying it. I would never have believed it would happen to me, so I KNOW it could happen to ANYONE.

Lock the Door

Photo by Thomas William on Unsplash

I never would have thought frustration would drive me to completely insane measures to get what I wanted.

My second son was about two at the time. He was always one that would climb into his crib to nap, not one to follow his brother’s footsteps of bedtime resistance.

But there was something about this particular day with him, as he fought me tooth and nail about everything. I could not wait for him to take his afternoon nap, so I could get just an hour of peace before I had to pick up his brother from preschool. I was counting the minutes.

I took him upstairs as was our routine, ready for our nap-time story and eventual bliss of silence. But he was not having it. He ran from my lap with tears streaming down his face. Kicking, punching and fighting with his entire body against what I knew would make us both feel better. Just a few moments of sleep would fix it all.

After fighting with him for forever I snapped. I placed him in our room and locked the door. Not caring how long he was going to wail knowing it would eventually stop as he succumbed to sleep.

Satisfied with my disciplinary action, I started down the stairs. But something stopped me completely cold with only a few steps of my descent.

I could not open that door from the outside.

Oh. My. God. What had I done???? My TWO year old was locked in my bedroom and I could not get to him! What kind of mother am I? He’s not even my first…I totally knew better and allowed what I wanted to influence my choices, putting him in danger. This was completely unforgivable and I was instantly racked with shame and fear. What in God’s name was I supposed to do???

After calming myself and talking to him through the door in what I hoped were soothing tones, I remembered there might be a way. We had only been in the house for a little over a year, but I remembered seeing on top of the door jamb a little bronze piece about 3 inches long. I never figured out what it was for but I now hoped beyond measure it was the key I needed to rescue my son.

Who’s kidding who here? I needed it to rescue myself.

Within moments I had the door open, and as I embraced my sobbing, snotty-nosed baby, I vehemently promised us both it would never happen again.

Truth be told he’s locked himself in that room more than once, but now I know how to get to him.

Stand Up Already, Will You???

Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash

Boy number two had a rough second year of life…I must admit.

I was getting him dressed for the evening, trying to put on his pajamas. He was having another one of his too-tired-to-cope meltdowns, and absolutely would not stand up for me.

Again, (recognizing a theme here?) out of pure frustration I took his arm and pulled directly up on it, trying to get him upright to complete the ensemble.

Immediately his cries took on an urgency I had yet to hear from him. His arm hung limply on his side and I stared at him hoping to hell I hadn’t just injured him.

Except, I knew that I had.

My husband ran upstairs to see what was the matter, trying to convince me the child was simply tired and needed to be put to bed. My nurse-momma gut knew better, as I stared at the way he was holding his arm to his side. I slowly tried to lift it up to check the damage, and his wails grew more intense, but he was not able to resist the movement at all.

I scooped him up, now fully dressed in his jammies, and rushed him to the closest children’s hospital. I was so ashamed of what I had done and scared to death they would take him away from me. I was sure they would think he was in an abusive environment and I would be left to defend something undefendable.

To my great relief there was absolutely no judgement from my fellow healthcare workers. In fact, there was an attitude of immense empathy, as this lovely pediatrician explained that nursemaid’s elbowwas in-fact very common among kiddos his age. Typically a result of an afternoon walk gone awry, as the caregiver simply lifted the child’s arm in attempt to save them from falling to the street after a sidewalk stumble.

I watched with great relief and surprise as this wonderful person gently put the bones in my baby’s arm back in their place. After a brief moment of discomfort, he was again able to move his arm normally and for the first time since it happened, smiled up at me.

We left moments later with a sticker for him, and a great sense of relief and gratitude for me.

Forgiveness…Unconditionally

Photo by Anna Kolosyuk on Unsplash

As I write these words I am contemplating the driving force prompting me to share my weakest mommy moments with the world.

As with everything I write, it is with the hope that you may find some truth in what I say, and comfort knowing you are not alone. While the rest of the world is pretending they are perfect parents, you and I know we are still learning how to be human beings.

It is our children and the lessons parenthood present that bring to light our faults and opportunity to grow. I know for sure it is through these experiences that I have grown the most, learning that unconditional love and forgiveness are the true path to a greater life. Especially when you extend that love and forgiveness to yourself.

Please feel free to share your own mommy-mishaps. Human nature locked inside with guilt and shame only imprison your soul. Human nature shared is so freeing, bringing peace and love to your heart.

Natural or medicated? How to experience bliss after labor.

One of the most common dilemmas as a pregnant mom is whether to have a baby naturally or with some sort of pain management. There is so much controversy, conversations and opinions surrounding this subject. There is such judgment placed on the mother’s choice; by friends and family, caregivers and spouses. The people I find to be most unforgiving are the pregnant moms themselves. The perception being that an epidural or other medications during labor is like admitting a weakness, disqualifying them as a good mother. The ultimate failure.

What is it in our culture that has brought us to this point? I cannot imagine a time when a woman will go to the dentist and choose to have a tooth extraction without any kind of analgesia, just to prove their strength and worth as a human being. Even less likely still, a man who would choose this with his wife’s encouragement. Telling him he is less of a man if he gives into the novocaine. Really????

My nursing perspective

As a labor nurse I have watched many struggle with this choice. The peer pressure typically steamrolled by the ultimate choice made in pain, with regret and self hatred soon to follow. I will never forget a teenage girl I cared for, holding so dearly to a fear of paralysis that she refused to listen to knowledge and reason. In more than eleven years, I have not witnessed nor heard of an epidural causing permanent damage. Unfortunately she refused to listen, and consequently was completely miserable in her experience. She was so exhausted and in so much pain by the time her little one arrived she did not seem to enjoy the precious moment of holding her newborn son. It was incredibly sad to watch, mostly because it was unnecessary.

As a momma

I can speak about this from the other side of the bed as well. I have labored three times, and had very different and beautiful experiences with each one.

My firstwas very typical of a first time mom. My water broke at home, the contractions started and slowly built in intensity. I was able to manage well until I hit about 6 centimeters, and then was overcome by the intense pain so many fail to describe. I went from walking the halls with my husband to doubled over with tears streaming down my face. I was unable to fathom the will of a woman who chooses to endure such an experience. The epidural soon followed and I delivered my beautiful baby boy eleven hours later. It was bliss.

My second son was a different story. I had planned on an epidural again, remembering the intense pain and ultimate relief of my first experience. When my water broke promptly at 11pm, I thought this baby would be the same. By the time we were halfway to the hospital my husband was driving close 100 miles per hour, mostly because I was scaring the bejeezus out of him. When we arrived at 12:18 AM I declined to wait for a labor nurse to pick me up, desperately needing that epidural I knew would save me. My husband eagerly drove my wheelchair to the labor unit and an IV was placed…I was almost there! Alas, the urge to push prompted my labor nurse to check; I was indeed 9 centimeters dilated. She was nice enough to pretend the epidural was on its way (thank God for kind labor nurses), and as I delivered my son at 12:37 AM the doctor hardly had time to put her gloves on. It was the most intense, exhilarating and surprisingly wonderful experiences of my life. I now understood what the hubbub was all about! This was amazing! This was bliss.

So I had nine months with baby number threeto decide. What was my choice going to be? I knew I had the physical strength to be without medication for my delivery. Now it came down to making that my choice. Honestly I wasn’t sure I could do it. But as these things go, I was presented with the option. My labor was not strong like my second one, I had decided to go for it! I could do it, what was the big deal? I had already passed the test. The test of all mothers…I was a superwoman!!! When my midwife wanted to break my water I avoided her at all costs. I was waiting for my husband. Then I walked the halls. I couldn’t bring myself to let her do it, I knew what was in store. Oh the doubts that floated through my mind! Was I crazy??? Why would I intentionally go through such an experience a second time? I was so torn.

The decision

Eventually I gritted my teeth and got it over with. I warned my labor nurse I would beg for the epidural at some point, and asked for her help though that moment. It wasn’t much later that my husband recognized my behavior as the same in the car ride 6 years before (he was pretty grateful to be in the hospital room at that point!). I wanted nothing more than to wipe the smile off my nurse’s face when she told me I was almost completely dilated. Didn’t she hear me? I CAN’T DO THIS!!!! But she was a dutiful nurse, and a very dear friend, so she did what I had asked when I was lucid and sane. (Come on… was I really sane when I made that choice?) She got my my midwife and they both coached me through the last few minutes of my labor (wait…it wasn’t hours???). One very intense hour and 15 minutes after my midwife broke my water, I was holding my sweet precious boy. It was…bliss.

Your power

It was so empowering to deliver my baby like this. With nothing but my own strength as a woman, a mother, hell a HUMAN BEING to guide me. The truth??? I did not feel any less empowered or any less like a strong beautiful momma with the epidural. Nor so when I had no choice in the matter. It really and truly didn’t matter. Each birth was special, unique and incredible beyond words.

The bliss

I am convinced it has nothing at all to do with how you deliver your baby but is really about the belief you have in yourself. So many factors go into your birth, many of which are completely out of your control. My advice? Trust your doctor or midwife, trust your labor nurse and trust yourself. And above all…know yourself for the beautiful mother you are and are about to become. Nothing in the universe can change that. It doesn’t matter how you get there, participating in and bearing witness to the amazing beautiful miracle of your child’s birth is simply put…bliss.