Dealing with my inner Grouchy Mama

Dealing with my inner Grouchy Mama

If you, like me have fallen into the pattern of being a chronic grouch, it is not too late to reinvent yourself.

As moms we all mess up. We all get it wrong sometimes and hurt our babies feelings in the process. Sometimes because we are so busy, or we are so tired from weeks long diaper duty and being woken up by one child or another every 2 hours, or hormones rear their ugly head or we just want some peace and quiet and 10 minutes where we don’t have to be ‘On” and responding to the neverending mom, mom, mom, the responsibility and the sacrifice that comes with the territory of being a mom.

What my miscarriage taught me about my own badassery

I am comfortable. After years of turmoil from an abusive, unfulfilling, toxic relationship, I am finally in a good place. It has taken years to get here. It definitely did not happen overnight. It has taken work and it has taken time and it has been worth it.

For the first time in a long time, I can truly say that I am happy. I may not be a millionaire, or living lavish, but I am happy. I have a husband that loves me and spoils me. I have 3 kids that drive me nuts, but that bring me more joy than I ever knew was possible. I am running a business that I love, that allows me to stay home and only work part-time outside the home. I have great friends, good health and I can’t complain.

There has never been a better time or situation in my life to bring another life into the world. After trying for over a year, seeing those two pink lines on that pregnancy test that confirmed I was pregnant, filled me with incredible excitement and joy. Finally, we were going to have a baby!

I was finally going to have the chance to have a pregnancy where domestic violence, homelessness, stress and  my age weren’t going to be an issue. This child was going to have a father that ACTUALLY wanted her. This baby wasn’t going to be unplanned or a ‘mistake’. This baby was not going to have to know homelessness. This baby was going to have EVERYTHING it needed. This baby was going to be my chance to get it right.

You see, I often worry that I have messed up my kids by putting them through so much trauma so early in their lives.. I wish my kids had been born into situations where their fathers wanted them. I wish they had been born at a time when financially I could provide everything for them. I wish they had never had to witness domestic violence. I wish they had had a mom that was less stressed, that was in a good place financially, spiritually, emotionally and mentally. I feel guilty for leaving them for days at a time with friends, because I was in the psych ward again. I feel shame and guilt that my daughter and I basically grew up together since I had her at 17. It kills me that there were times I couldn’t provide more than a box of Cornflakes and 2 cans of tuna for them. There is so much that I wish I had been able to do differently for my kids.

This baby was going to be my chance to FINALLY do it right. Married, happy, healthy and able to provide, but the Lord had other plans and I had a miscarriage.

To say I was devastated is an understatement. To say that I am over my loss would be a lie. It will be a while before I can walk near the baby section in the store without crying. It will take time before I can look at a baby announcement and not burst into tears. It will be a minute before I accept any baby shower invitations. That’s fine. Having been through this 3 times before, I understand it is part of the process.

Learning is part of the process too. And this is what I have learned from this miscarriage.

This baby was never meant for me to hold. This baby was not sent to me to kiss her feet and smell hear her voice. This baby was sent to me for the briefest of times, to teach me lessons I may not have learned otherwise. She was sent to me as a reminder. She was sent to me so that I could find myself. The 10 weeks I carried her allow me to boldly declare:

I am pretty fantastic.

I live life to the fullest.

I don't have time for petty BS, not because I don't give a damn, but because I care deeply for the things and the people that really matter.

I don't have time for fakery and tomfoolery.

I make moves, not excuses.

I use my voice for those that can't speak for themselves.

I rise because I have fallen on my knees before.

I speak, because I know what it is to be silenced.

I move, because I know what it is to be forced to stay stagnant.

I strut because I know what it is to be compromised.

I live freely because I know what it’s like to caged.

I am a badass! Hear me roar!

While my 3 kids may not have had what I thought would have been the perfect start to life, my life and their lives to date have taught them that:

  • It is about picking yourself up when you are down.

  • It is about valuing the things and the people that truly matter.

  • They are not defined by stuff, but by the integrity of who they are as people.

  • There is always a silver lining

  • Being broken doesn’t mean you are weak, it is a chance to be reborn and to rebuild bigger, better and stronger

So I rise from the ashes of my loss and wait for the day when I get to see her and thank her for the incredible gift she gave me in the 10 weeks I got to carry her!

So if not for myself, I rock my badassery for her, my other 3 angels waiting for me in heaven and the 3 angels I have with me on this earth. I own my worth and I add tax to it, not for myself but because my kids, my husband, my family deserve to have me operating on 10. So it’s far from a selfish thing, my badassery at it’s core, is the most selfless thing I can do.

Here’s to you baby girl and the unseen badass you always will be!




Miscarried and broken.

I feel broken.

Completely and totally broken.

This is the 4th miscarriage I am having to live through. The 4th baby I will never hold in my arms. The 4th baby whose voice I will never hear. The 4th baby whose feet I will never kiss, whose smile I will never see, whom I will never hear call me mom. The 4th time my heart is so completely broken, that I feel like I will very physically break in half. My chest physically hurts from the pain of this beautiful baby lost.

Even though my baby was not big enough for me to feel her kicks, I could feel she was there. I didn't even know yet, if my baby was a boy or a girl, but I feel in my gut that I had a baby girl.

The bond between mother and child starts at conception for me. Even before I knew she was there, she knew me. She was a part of me. She was dependent on me. She needed me. From the moment I knew she was there, I loved her, I wanted her and she was mine.

It has been over a year of trying to conceive this child and finally, finally, we had our prayers answered, just for it to be taken away, just like that. *finger snap

It is hard. Really, really hard to accept. It feels like I failed.

  • Did I not love her enough?
  • Did I do something/eat something that caused this?
  • Did I not want her enough?
  • Did I want her too much?
  • Is my body defective?
  • I already have 3 kids, was I being selfish wanting her so much?

So many questions. So much guilt. It’s just so much.

I have been through this 3 times before, so I know in time I will find a way to accept it. I will find a way to move on. Which is partly why I am writing this blog post. Writing helps me process. Writing helps me think. Writing helps me connect with others to offer support and be supported. In my pain, and through my tears I wrote A Broken Mama’s Guide to Miscarriage eBook and I hope that you find some measure of strength, healing and hope.

For now, I am just going to let myself break. For now I have no answers to my questions. For now I am shattered and broken. So I write to try to make sense of the senseless. I write to ease some of the pain. I write because my child is lost and there is nothing I can do to get her back. So I take it one day at a time and let myself feel my pain.

I am going to give myself time. I am going to let myself break and when I can break no more, I will start the business of picking myself back up.