Working mom guilt sucks.

It's nearly midnight. Most school nights, I'm passed out in the middle of my bed with one child - or, sometimes, both children - sleeping around me. Tonight, though, I have energy (don't ask me how)...so I'm doing things that need to be done. I took the trash out (effing cold outside right now, btw), washed/sanitized bottles, cleaned up JJ's bathroom that became a disaster area after bath time, and - once this post is done - I'll iron clothes for all of us, make sure I have stuff for pancakes in the morning, pack Mia's diaper bag and fold/put away two loads of laundry. I even managed to get in a couple of shows on my DVR, which is awesome; my DVR usually sits untouched until the weekend. It's been a long week at work, and I have a full day tomorrow that will probably see me working through lunch again so I can stay caught up; I hate being behind at work. I will probably have a couple of cups of coffee throughout the day, but that's fine. At least I have something there that will give me that boost I need.

But that's just house/family/work stuff. I just got an email for the teacher appreciation lunch committee, and I signed up to bring three large bags of chips. I also volunteered to send pumpkin quick bread mix to school with JJ tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure he needs to have his lunch card reloaded with money. I need to track down the library book we read tonight and make sure it makes it back into his backpack, find an appropriate shirt for school (it's PE day tomorrow, and I don't want him to get too hot by wearing a heavy shirt), and make sure his IEP stuff is worked out so he can get his speech and OT testing done. It's all a never-ending cycle of just stuff...and lately, it's been overwhelming.

I feel guilty being a working mom. I love what I do, but it's hard to get past the post of the stay-at-home moms who send the Pinterest crafts to school with their kids and seem to run the homeroom mom show flawlessly. It's hard to be the mom that volunteers to take the chips for the teacher appreciation luncheon because I just don't have time to throw together a dessert, or be there for set-up or clean-up. It's hard needing to work through lunch because I am so damn desperate to get out the door as close to 5pm as possible that I'd rather work through my lunch hour than have to stay until 6. By the time I pick up my children from daycare, I haven't seen them in more than 9 hours - and I miss them so much by that point that I am almost in tears every day when I pick them up.

It's hard to balance everything. I try my hardest to be there for the kids whenever they have something going on, and I am grateful that I work at a job that understands that. But that doesn't stop the guilt of my work keeping me away from my children for most of the week. I do not have the option to be a stay-at-home mom at the moment, and I am honestly not a good enough salesperson to start my own work-at-home business...I love education, and I'm good at what I do. I thrive in my current work environment, and I love it.

I hate that I am justifying my love for my job, when I really shouldn't have to do that.

I've seen the same exhausted, guilty looks on the faces of other working moms; I've had conversations with other working moms about how to balance it all. It is overwhelming to feel this much guilt, and it sucks to see stories on social media and in papers from parents putting down mothers who choose to work outside of the home. One time a couple of years ago, I saw a post on Twitter or Facebook - can't remember which - from a stay-at-home mom that basically said that she couldn't understand how people could let other people watch their kids for the day, that they must be bad parents if they choose not to stick around to raise their own children. That post happened ages ago, and it still makes me sick to my stomach to realize that people out there think of me that way: a shitty parent who lets a daycare raise her children. That is not the case, but I'm not here to convince random people that I'm not that type of person. I'm too tired to fight that fight.

My hope is that, one day, the working mom guilt goes away. I do not know if we will every be financially stable enough for me to stay home - my husband IS in the military, after all, and we cannot live comfortably on just his paycheck (which is a whole 'nother topic i won't get into at this moment). And I do not know if I am cut out to be a stay-at-home mom; I love spending time with my children, but I also love adult interaction, and working with the students. That doesn't mean I don't miss my kids every second that I'm away from them, or that I do not feel guilty that I probably should never be homeroom mom because I can't promise I can make every field trip - but I will definitely volunteer to send cookies, and will be there at every IEP meeting and parent/teacher conference. I want my kids, and the world, to know that just because I don't stay at home doesn't mean I'm not a worthy parent.

A really good friend of mine told me last weekend that I need to let go of the working mom guilt, that it will eat me alive if I don't find a way to just let it go. She's totally right...but I'm still struggling with letting it go. For now, I'll fake it 'til I make it, and I'll do my damndest to make sure my family knows how much I love them, even if I do work.

Positive reflection.

To say that October has been nuts is an understatement. Work was insane because of enrollment advising. Then Mia wound up getting tubes. Then both kids wound up sick at different parts of the month (and i was sick at the beginning of it, too). Then you just throw in life in general, and boom. You get from October 1st to October 31st very, very quickly - without even realizing it.

This month is more than just "another month", though; it's Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, an event that wasn't even on my radar until Devon died. It's so hard to remember my carefree life before he died, and how things were before my world was shattered.

But today, instead of rehashing the past and how different my life is now, I'm going to live in the present and talk about how great it is. When I stop and think, it really is a great life.

I am blessed with two beautiful Earth babies and my sweet angel baby. Even with the struggles we've had with JJ, he is still so bright, and intelligent, and fun. Watching him grow has been the biggest blessing; I never knew how much my life would change when he was born, but he is just the best. And Mia - my goodness. She is a joy! She's so easygoing and giggly and such a charmer. What did I do to be blessed with three beautiful children? They make my life worth living.

I am fortunate to have a close relationship with my parents and my sister. My parents are the absolute best, watching my children without asking for a thing in return. My mom took off last Friday to watch Mia after surgery so that I could stay at work for awhile and catch up (she wound up watching both of my kids since JJ got sick, but she just said it was an added bonus to be able to spend all day with them). My dad loves to take JJ on "manly" excursions - bike rides around his college campus, to the car wash to wash his truck etc. My sister is great with the kids, especially JJ (probably because JJ is a mini version of Alicia, just ten times magnified in terms of personality and craziness, ha). They have helped me so much as I've raised the children on my own; I wouldn't be here without them.

I have a very fulfilling job. I get to work with some of the best, brightest students that my alma mater has to offer, and it is so awesome. Yeah, it's crazy a lot of the time, but the environment I work in is top-notch, and I love what I do. I hope to stay in higher education forever and continue to advise; I feel like I'm good at it, and I'm passionate about it. I also hope to start my master's degree sooner rather than later; I miss being in the classroom setting and am eager to learn more.

My friends are the greatest! I have a small circle of people that I hang out with on a regular basis, but they are the most generous, cool people ever. They're always there when I need a hug, or chocolate, or a drink, or something to babysit my children. Some (like my best friend) have been around for years; others (like my former coworker who moved home but is still a close friend of mine) have been around for a small amount of time but have become someone I will remain close to forever. While I am not the greatest at staying in touch, and usually can't have a conversation for long due to the kids, I hope they know that I adore each of them, and I would go to bat for every single one of them.

I have had some really cool experiences in my life. I've been to DisneyWorld and Universal Studios, got to live in Hawaii for a few years, have road tripped across the country and have seen some of the coolest things. I still have more places I want to go and more things I want to do, but I've done some pretty neat stuff already. I can't wait to add more things to that list of cool experiences.

My life has been hard the last couple of years. I live in constant fear that something will happen to my children. I miss my son more than words can say. Some days, I wake up wondering if this is really my life, if I really had to bury a child, if this is really how I see things now. But then I think of my children, and my family, and my life in general...and I try to live in the moment. Try to remember that even through all the darkness, there have been many more bright spots. I pray that I can remember these moments when I feel sad, or depressed, or angry at how things have gone - because these moments have pulled me through to where I am today.

How we (try) to survive our mornings.

Ever since school started back up, things have been NUTS. With a new boss at work and lots of new students, things have been a little chaotic (but i'm finally all caught up again, thank goodness). With a kiddo in kindergarten and one in daycare, mornings are borderline nightmares. It usually goes something like this:

- 6am: Alarm goes off. I hit snooze and swear to get up at 6:05am.
- 615am: I finally roll my sleepy butt out of bed after hitting the snooze button twice more.
- 620-640am: Do the things I should've done the night before but was too tired to do (finish washing bottles, iron clothes, pack bags).
- 640-7am: Intend to get myself ready for work, but then Mia wakes up screaming for a bottle. Get her changed and ready for the day, but keep her in her PJs because she likes to have blowouts, and I'd rather her do that in her PJs than the clothes I just ironed.
- 7am-710am: Play with Mia. Because, come on. She's cute. And fun. And likes when I make faces at her.
- 710-725am: Hurriedly get ready for work, all while trying to get JJ to get out of bed. So far, he's still snoring away. During this time, Mia isn't happy I put her down, so I give her my cell phone to chew on. I also usually forget to pack something (lunch, extra diapers, something for work), so I'm trying to do that while doing everything else.
- 725-730am: Finally shake JJ awake and have him drag himself to the kitchen for breakfast, which is now cold and needs to be reheated (usually oatmeal, hot chocolate/crackers, cereal or eggs/smoothie). Fix his hair and try to get him changed while he munches on breakfast.
- Intend to get out the door by 740am (the earliest i can drop jj off at school), but we usually get out closer to 745am. Then I deal with the school drop-off line, then drive Mia to daycare and get to work. As you probably figured, I don't make it on time most mornings.

I didn't think it would be this hard to get us through the morning unscathed, but it seriously is. Our morning routine usually puts me in a bad mood (one that i don't let show until i'm alone in the car and can scream it out while driving to work), so I know we need to make changes/adjustments. After doing some Googling and retweaking, I think I have a solution we can try.

The problem isn't that I don't have enough time in the morning; the problem is that because I have no energy at night. I don't eat well, I don't sleep well, and I'm running from the time I get up until the time the kids are in bed (which usually winds up being my bedtime, too). To handle my crazy days and not crash out, I found some great energy-boosting snack ideas that I can keep at my desk (like apples and peanut butter, or hummus and chips) and get me through the afternoon. In recent days, I started to implement a few simple things that will hopefully help us out in the long run:

1. I try to get everything done for the next day the night before. I've started letting JJ pick out his clothes the night before, then I iron all of our clothes while he's settling into bed. I let bottles soak while we're eating dinner and wash after the kids go to bed. I fold laundry while catching up on TV shows or the news. I pack of all our bags and set them by the door - along with my keys - before bed. I try to multi-task as much as possible so I can get things done quickly.

2. I stay much more organized than I did during the summer. My Erin Condren life planner has become a lifesaver. I use it to track everything, from things JJ needs for school to meal plans to upcoming appointments. I carry it everywhere and keep lots of things in it (from stamps to coupons). I use my Google calendar for everything, too, and have it set up to send me text/email reminders when really important things are coming up. I have a small whiteboard on the side of my fridge that I use for grocery items, recipes I want to look up and other miscellaneous things. I know most people probably don't need all that stuff to stay organized, but I do - and they help.

3. I now get up earlier (barf). I hate mornings. I am not, by any means, an early riser. But if I can start my mornings on the calm side and not feel so rushed, it helps all of us have a better morning. It also helps when Mia decides she wants to hang out with me at 645am.

4. I try not to sweat the small stuff. If I don't get the entire house picked up the night before, or forget to vacuum, so what? Spending time with my kids is more important than making sure the dishwasher is empty. I've struggled with keeping a clean home and a happy family since JJ was born, and I've started to let go of that a little bit more as I've adjusted to a household with two kiddos. It all eventually gets done anyway.

5. I set a timer while cleaning and give myself 15 minutes to get certain areas done. I am a procrastinator at heart, so if I don't time myself, it'll take me three hours to clean (because i stop to watch TV, or i stop to eat a snack, whatever). So I've now started setting a time in my procrastinator areas - the bathroom, the kitchen and the laundry - and give myself 15 minutes to get through it. The dishes sometimes take longer, and the toilet by itself can take 15 minutes to clean because the cleaner needs to soak in...but that's OK. Once the timer is set and I'm moving, it keeps me on track so I get things done quicker.

6. I drink more coffee than I ever have in my life. I used to only have a cup every few days, but now I'm having 1-2 cups every day. I never drank that much coffee in college. As life slows down, I'll cut down on it, but for now, it's an essential survival tool for this mama running a single parent household.

I was naive in thinking that I could manage everything on my own once school got back into full swing. Even though we had the last two months of school last school year where I was working and dropping kids off, things just seem so much more chaotic this school year. My hope is that as we adjust to this new routine, things will get better and I can add in more things - home cooked breakfasts, workouts, better meal plans - that I want to do but just don't have the time and energy to do now. We will get there. I know we will.

And, because I can, and this blog post was super long - random posts of my babies. They are the best.

Two.

Happy Birthday, Devon!

In just a few short hours, it will be two years since you became my sweet angel and I met you for the first time. Even though August 19th is always such a hard day for me, it's also a joyous day - because it's the day I finally got to meet you, hold you, kiss you. I can't believe it's been two whole years.

I wonder what you look like now. I imagine that you have lots of curly hair (like your big brother) and big, beautiful eyes (like your little sister). You were very chill in the womb, so I imagine that you are still like that - calm, but happy, and curious. I hope that you have met many of the boys and girls whose parents have now become my friends, that you all share a special bond as you watch over the mommies and daddies that miss you so much.

I hope you know that I miss you every second that I breathe. From the second I knew that you were no longer with me, I have missed you. I have thought of you every second of every day - even when I'm busy or seems like I've forgotten about you, trust me. I have not. You will always be a special part of me, and my heart will always be missing the piece that you took to heaven with you.

It is still hard for me to fathom that I will only have pictures of you until my life on this earth is through. It is still hard for me to fathom that I will never see your eyes, never hear your laugh, never see you smile. But when I think of all the things I will never get with you, I think of this: you will never know pain. You will only know joy, and my love, and my heartbeat - and that is enough to hold me over until I get to see you again.

I will cry today - a lot. And I will take the time to shower you with love, and blow out a candle on a cupcake for you (a number 2, of course). I just hope that you can feel my love, that you can feel my kisses and hugs, that I can show you that I am happy - even with the sadness I feel that you are not in my arms. Because I am happy. I am happy that you were with me for 34.5 weeks. I am happy that I got to hold you, meet you, say goodbye. I am happy that you are my son.

I hope that you're having this amazing party up there, one that is beyond what I could even imagine. I hope you love chocolate cake like your mommy, and that you are celebrating with all of the people who left before me - your paternal grandfather, your great-grandparents, your great-uncle, and others that love you and are hopefully providing the amazing life for you that I cannot. I live for you, I love you, and I will forever miss you. Happy Birthday, my sweet baby boy.

Mommy

Random ramblings of a grieving mother.

I was ironing clothes for my two kids (i hate ironing but do it because i don't want them looking all wrinkly), and it hit me.

Devon's second angelversary is in three weeks.

During this time two years ago, I was breaking in Renata the Sonata and preparing to install the car seat base, blissfully unaware that my life was about to be shattered in a matter of weeks. Days. Oh, how I wish I could remember those days with happiness instead of sadness. Oh, how I wish those hadn't been the last days I'd had with my son.

The pain of his loss hasn't lessened with Mia's arrival. I am beyond grateful that she is a part of this family, but that doesn't make me miss her big brother less. I think about him all the time, but as we get closer and closer to the day he was born sleeping, I think about him almost every moment of every day.

It still amazes me that the littlest things can set me off. Folding Mia's baby socks made me cry the other night. The stack of clothes I bought him - but he'll never wear, and I can't bear to part with just yet - fell out of the closet last week, and I bawled my eyes out as I folded them neatly and stuffed them back on the shelf. I follow a few of the moms from Devon's bump month board on Instagram, and they're planning birthday parties for their almost 2-year-olds. I am so happy that they have those adorable little babies in their lives, but it hurts my heart to watch them grow up and know that I will never celebrate an Earthly birthday with Devon. I will never be bitter or angry towards them, but I am bitter and angry towards my own situation. I discovered last year that Devon's angelversary came with a few weeks of "God, why did you have to take MY baby? Why did it have to be ME that has to go through this?"...and even though I try to fight them, I do let those thoughts linger ever now and then. Why ME? Why MY baby? I try to stay positive in my life because 1.) it feels better to be positive than negative; and 2.) I want my children to see the positive side of me only. But as we inch closer to that angelversary, that negative side rears its ugly head. I only put up a half fight to ward it off, too.

It is emotionally exhausting to live through the loss of your baby. You never know when you're going to have good days or bad days, when something as small as a baby sock - or something as big as watching Return to Zero - will ruin your entire day. I am always on the edge mentally, expecting the worst but hoping for the best. While my optimism is stronger now than it was in the weeks after my loss, I am still not the overly optimistic person I was before Devon died. I totally expect that one of my living children will be taken from me, thoughts that I know will probably send me back to therapy because I just can't live with that fear for much longer. The anxiety, the fear, the sadness, the hurt, the anger...I can suppress it and accept it, but it's hard as hell to move past - and it's impossible to fully forget.

I have met more loss moms over the last year, and their stories break my heart. I watch them go through all the things I went through - absolute disbelief and denial. Unbearable sadness and heartache. Anger - SO much anger. They live in this fog, this haze, just trying to survive each breath without losing their minds to the grief. But then, as the time slowly passes, they come out of that fog and start to live again. They get in shape, pick up new hobbies, have more babies. They have more happy than sad days, don't dwell on the circumstances of the loss as much, start to move forward. But they never, ever forget. I certainly will never, ever forget.

For those who continue to read my blog - even with my depressing posts - thank you. Thanks for your kind words, your support, your love. I will need that more than ever as I come up on another year without my sweet angel boy. It's funny how time continues to move around you, even when your world is standing still.

Return to Zero.

I knew about Return to Zero from various loss sites and knew the movie would be coming out on Lifetime. I knew when the first airing was on because my Facebook feed was flooded with people - loss parents, supporters, people who enjoy Lifetime movies in general - providing feedback. I saw it on my TV guide but didn't record because, well, I didn't know if I had the strength to watch it.

Turns out, I did.

I found the movie on my On Demand channel and, without second thought, hit the play button. I sat on my couch for an hour and 45 minutes, praying both kids would stay asleep so they wouldn't hear or see the crying puddle their mother had turned into. That was one of the most intense experiences of my life; I had a knot in my throat and stomach the entire movie. I've never felt that way watching a movie before - but I've also never watched a movie I could relate to so much.

For those who don't know, Return to Zero is about a couple who lose their baby at 38 weeks and the aftermath. It hit so close to home on so many levels that it was emotionally jarring. I was suddenly thrown back to August 18, 2012, in the quiet maternity ward of Reynolds Army Community Hospital, the place where I was told my son no longer had a heartbeat. I didn't go home like they did in the movie; I stayed, and labored, and cried in a quiet delivery room as the RN and OB carried my angel boy away. I spent time with him, held him, rocked him as I signed the papers signifying his death. We had a memorial - one I barely remember - and we had him cremated, his ashes sitting in a blue box on my dresser. I remembered the dark hole that the lead character lived in, and I cringed at the ridiculous crap people said in the movie (although I never had someone tell me Devon was up there picking out a healthy baby for me; I would have slapped that person if I'd ever been told that). I recalled the tense moments between me and J, the ease I shut him - and others - out as I figured out how to move on after my baby had died on my watch. I remember the guilt, the anger, and anguish...it all came back so clear as I watched.

I cried the entire movie. God, did I cry. I sat on my overly warm couch, curled up under a blanket I didn't need but wanted anyway, and I bawled my eyes out. I almost threw things, because I remembered it all, and it hurt. I could've stopped the movie and made the hurt go away, but I didn't. I watched, and I wept, and I remembered.

But you know what? I am SO glad I watched the movie. I am SO glad that this movie was made, was put out there for people to see. No one wants to talk about pregnancy and infant loss because it's taboo. I think some people truly believe that something as awful as a baby dying never happens, but I am living proof that it does. Return to Zero was spot on with the experiences, and the emotions, and the things that can happen after you experience such a devastating loss. I hope it was an eye-opening experience for people, that those who have never gone through this can sorta understand what really happens when a baby dies.

At first, I regretted starting the movie with no one else to watch it with me, because I thought I would want the support. But I'm glad I watched it alone, because I could really remember, and really cry, and get through the movie at my own pace while dealing with all the emotions. It was probably the hardest movie I'll ever watch, but it is also one of the best I'll ever watch.

Different.

JJ is different. He's always been different. He had trouble sleeping (and still spends nights in my bed), he had SO many ear infections his first year that he had speech and developmental delays, and he loves to repeat. He can also be ridiculously loud; sometimes, his concept of volume control does not exist. I've had him tested for autism on multiple occasions, and while he isn't on the spectrum, he does have autistic tendencies. He's been on an IEP, and that has done wonders...we are so fortunate to be in the school system that we are, because they have helped JJ grow by leaps and bounds. While our current daycare is fabulous, he was kicked out of another when they couldn't handle him and wouldn't work with us (but if he hadn't been kicked out, i probably would have put off all the testing i did, which would have delayed jj getting the help he needed to grow). While that boy is the light of my life and is so bright and funny and charming, he's different. That's always been fine with me, because I will always love him and support him, no matter what.

Today, though, I realized just how different he is.

We had Chick-Fil-A for dinner, and I let him play on the indoor playground equipment. There were other, older kids playing, so I sat in there with Mia to keep an eye on things. The older kids were annoyed that he was being a little louder than them and that he kept repeating what they said, and I felt myself getting defensive. I explained to JJ that he couldn't be loud because it was hurting their ears, and that he needed to use his own words and let them play. I also explained to the kids that JJ likes to repeat words and that's just something he does; he doesn't do it to be mean or annoy. One seemed to understand; the other ignored me but didn't say anything to JJ again. I'm glad I was in there to diffuse what could have been an escalating situation, but it made me sad. I can't always be there for JJ when he's in situations like that, and he doesn't understand yet that his repeating and loudness can annoy others (no matter how much i, along with many other adults, try to tell him). What would have happened if I hadn't been there? Would the kids have pushed him? Yelled at him? Been mean to him? Is that what he will face throughout his younger years, until he can get his differences under control?

I did get frustrated with JJ over the situation and cut our outing short. During our drive home, though, I apologized to him. I shouldn't have gotten short with him, because it's not his fault he's different. Why should he have to change who he is because he's not exactly like everyone else? As a parent, today's situation made my heart hurt, because I now fully realize the challenges JJ could face because he's different. The mama bear inside of me is more than ready to come out and swat at people who give my son a hard time (she came dangerously close to coming out today), and I do realize that JJ will need to learn how to handle things differently in public vs. private/home situations. But damn it. I just want the best for my child. I want him to be liked, and appreciated - not bullied or laughed at because he likes to repeat words, or because he doesn't like to eat vegetables.

Kids are cruel. I see stories all the time of kids - both younger and older - bullying each other, fighting each other, and that is not an environment I want JJ in at all. I know that I can't always control the situation, though, and I can't hold him back from experiences because I'm afraid of how he'll be treated. He'll never grow if I shelter him, even though the only thing I want to do is protect him from all the bad things out there that could hurt him - both physically and mentally.

Being a parent is so hard.

I guess the only thing I can do is protect JJ as much as I can, teach him how to handle situations like that (i think that will become easier as he gets older; the kid is only 5 years old, and i have to treat him like he's 5 and not force him to grow up faster than he already is), and be in his corner 100 percent. I support him, I love him, and I will do everything I can to provide the best for him. I just hope that that's enough to raise my different, brilliant, beautiful boy.