Yes. You’re a terrible mother. 

I suffer from depression. 

I’ve gone to counseling for it. 

I’ve taken medicine for it. 

But there’s a huge difference in depression and postpartum depression. 

Moms are made to love their kids. 

But what if you feel nothing towards them? 

What if you even dislike them? 

When I had my third child I honestly didn’t like her, at all, but refused to tell anyone because what kind of mom doesn’t like their kid?

It was a huge show. 

It was months of trying to make myself love this tiny thing that sucked all the energy out of me. 

If you know her you know she is the sweetest, easiest, most mellow child, so me not liking her made no sense. 

I didn’t feel bad when she’d cry. 

I’d sit outside her door bawling out of irritation because she just wouldn’t stop crying. 

I’d cry about how she took so much time from my other kids.

She had a seizure and I remember my dad asking me if I was okay and I couldn’t even answer because how could I tell him yeah I’m perfectly fine I just want to go home but I can’t because this kid is in the hospital. 

I watched her scream when they put a needle in her hand and my dad patted my back when he saw my eyes swell with tears and I couldn’t explain that I wasn’t about to cry because I felt bad for her.  I was on the verge of tears because my child’s in pain and I feel nothing. Just numbness. (This isn’t like me I cry every single time my kids get shots)

I finally got help. 

I had people tell me I’m an awful mother for not feeling any emotion towards my baby.

And I really believed it and hated myself for even asking for help. 

I asked for help and the thoughts I had for months were verified. 

Yes. You’re a terrible mother. 

Yes. You’re failing your kids. 

Yes. You’re alone in feeling this way. 

Yes. You’re the problem. 

She was born the end of July. It wasn’t until October that I felt somewhat okay.

I’ll never forget the day I finally looked at her and felt love towards her. 

We were setting up the Christmas tree in October to help “make the depression leave”

And I looked at her little face and she smiled back and there it was. That was it. I finally felt that motherly love. 

The antidepressants had kicked in. I had explained to my family how I felt. I could finally talk about it. I was okay. We were okay. 

The best way I can descibe what depression feels like is breathing but drowning. 

Like every good moment changes to grey. 

Like an elephant is sitting on your chest. 

Like night time is the best time because the darkness feels the safest. 

Like numbness. 

My family has been nagging me about it this time around and watching for red flags because they saw how bad I got last time. 

Aspen, my littlest, has now been in NICU a month. 

She’s not home and my hormones are still out of wack, but the fear of also disliking her is still there. 

I’m extremely cautious this time because if I’m sinking into another round of ppd I want to know and “fix it” immediately. 

I was talking to my dear friend in the middle of the night the other night. 

I was tired. I was extremely sad. And was feeling so alone. (If you have depression you know you could be in a room full of people and it still be lonely and grey)

She texted me this; 

Aspen is just as precious as the other 3. You know that. It’s just hard for you to see that because you’re grieving. And that’s okay. You have given Aspen life, a name, a place to stay, encouragement, clothes, and 3 awesome siblings. You don’t have to feel for Aspen right now: you are enough. She has her mom and her dad. What more could she ask for?

You don’t have to feel for Aspen right now: you are enough.  

If you are struggling with PPD, get help. You are enough. Take care of YOU. That’s what your child needs. 


An open letter to my depression 

You are without a doubt the worst thing in my life. 

You take happy times and make them grey. 

You make me hate people I love. 

You make me ignore people who are just trying to save me from sinking into the darkest parts of you. 

You make me feel unloveable. 

You make me destroy everything in my path. 

You make me push everyone away. 

You make my bed feel like a prison cell. 

Even when I’m happy you’re there lurking. 

I can always feel you there. 

I can feel my brain shutting down as you flood it was thoughts and unbearable saddness. 

As you tell me over and over I’m unworthy. 

As you swirl around me like a black cloud. 

As I sit balled up on the bathroom floor cradling my head between my palms begging you to leave me alone. 

Begging you to stop. 

But you’re relentless. 

Most people think you don’t exist. 

That you’re an imaginary friend or some pathetic excuse for why I haven’t answered my phone in days or left the house. 

That I use you to pardon my behavior. 

That I’m just crazy and emotional. 

But I know you’re there. 

And everyone else who is burdened with you knows how real you are too. 

You scream to grab my attention when I’m okay for too long. 

You have a tantrum like a toddler.

You tear through my thoughts like a hurricane. 

You are tears at 3am. 

You are sleepless nights. 

You are tiredness. 

You are spending all day wrapped in a tear stained blanket. 

You are numbness. 

You are feeling everything and absolutely nothing, sometimes simultaneously. 

You are the monster under my bed. 

You are without a doubt the worst thing in my life. 

NICU day 18

Aspen is finally 4 pounds!

Right now she’s what they call a “feeder grower” she’s just there to get bigger and learn to eat. 

They moved her feeding tube to her nose so when she does get to try bottles the tube won’t get in the way. 

Hopefully we will get to start trying bottles this upcoming week. She’s 32 weeks today so we should be able to relatively soon. I’m so ready to start the battle of getting her to eat on her own so we can get her home. If you have ever had a kid in NICU you know how frustrating getting them to eat can be after they’ve been tube fed. You’ll sit there for 30 minutes trying to keep them awake to eat and realize they only ate 1/8 of their bottle so they just get tube fed anyways at that point. 

She was also moved to level 2 NICU which means she’s no longer level 3 which basically just means she’s stable and not critical. She also got moved upstairs to a private room which is nice getting to go see her and not listening the chaos of the normal NICU downstairs. It’s a ton of beeping and listening to othe rbabies cry. Now it’s like visiting anyone else in the hospital except. Your nurse pops in every once in a while but other than that the room is just Aspens. (We are convinced they moved her to a private room because of how loud we were laughing the night before)

Please keep little bug in your prayers, that she kicks butt when it comes time to try bottles so she can come home. We miss her so badly every single day and leaving the hospital without her never feels rights. 

NICU day 7

We’ve survived a week. 

Today was obviously a big day, we FINALLY got to hold our girl. I even got to change a diaper which may sound not so great but when you’ve been able to do nothing for your child other than pump like a cow it felt nice to finally actually do something a normal mom does. 

NICU this go around has been slightly more miserable. It’s painful getting into the chairs and then I spend the whole time squirming around trying to find the best position to not pull my stitches and then when I’m finally comfortable I have to pump or we have to move so a nurse can get in. So sitting with Aspen is all I want to do but it is also not fun, at all. It’s also near impossible to find “balance” between the hospital and the minions at home. I feel awful not being home and equally as awful not being at the hospital. Not being able to care for any of your kids because some are too heavy to hold and the other one is in an isolette is completely miserable. BUT we are just happy everyone is taken care of and getting the care they need. (I’m just hormonal and easily frustrated that I can’t do everything by myself right now.) I also started back to school on Monday so I’m trying to play catch up on that since apparently your junior year they have actual assignments the first week. In other words my life is a hot mess right now. More so than normal. 

A lot of people have asked why we couldn’t hold her, what’s wrong with her, ect… absolutely nothing is wrong with Aspen other than she was premature. She had an IV in her belly button up until 1pm today which made it more dangerous to hold her. She still can’t be held by other people because it is a lot of stress to their little bodies and she is still so small maintaining her temperature is hard for her even skin to skin. 

Her nasal cannula is already at a low enough setting that when she gets to full feeds we can attempt oral feeds instead of her getting all her feeds through her feeding tube. People get excited when I say that like she’ll be home soon, she won’t be. It’ll take her a couple more days to get to full feeds(160mL) once that happens they’ll let her attempt feeds orally and not through her feeding tube. That means the first day they’ll let her try one or two of her eight feeds. Babies don’t get the sucking reflex until about 32 weeks so they won’t want to set her up for failure. And it’s a lot of work which could cause her to lose weight. They’ll then eventually bump her feeds up by one or two at a time until she can get all 8 down by herself. Then it will be making sure she’s gaining and maintaining her own temperature. Right now her isolette does that for her. 

In other words she still has a long, long road ahead and won’t be home till probably mid October at the earliest, but is making improvements. 

Again, we’re celebrating the little victories and no news is good news when in comes to NICU. 

NICU day 5

Aspen is off the CPAP and on the high flow cannula on 4L. She is tolerating feeds, still not up to birth weight, but tolerating the feeds. She’s getting 17mL/3hrs. 

She is a little jaundice but not enough to need under the lights. 

They still have her isolate covered to imitate the womb, but she was awake a lot tonight while we sat with her and it was nice seeing her look around. 

She has her daddy’s feet and her mommas long fingers and is so, so cute and sweet. I cannot wait to get her home where I can love on her sweet little self everyday. 

We were able to get a room at Ronald McDonald so we can stay right next to the hospital. 

We will probabaly get to hold her this weekend and are SO excited to get to. 

We’ve had a ton of people offer to cook meals and drive me around since I can’t drive right now. We are so thankful for all the help and love we’ve received since having Aspen. 

I was finally able to spend a day at home with the kids and it was so nice, but I’ll always feel guilty regardless of which kid/kids I’m with. 

It’ll be a long couple months, September being the longest one, but we’re hanging in there. 

Thank you all for keeping Aspen in your thoughts and prayers. ❤️

NICU Day 3:

{I’m not taking the time to proofread this so sorry if I sound extremely illiterate}

I’ve never simultaneously loved and hated something as much as NICU. 

I love the nurses and how they care for my child when I can’t. I love that they can help my child survive. I love that they don’t judge you when you walk in with your face swollen from crying and you are walking slower than dirt because your stitches from your csection pull every time you move. 

I hate that I have to leave my child there. I hate that anytime I want to see her I have to scrub up to my elbows, sit in uncomfortable chairs, and leave so frequently. 

Due to the overwhelming number of people reaching out I figured it would be easier to explain in a blog. We are so thankful for all the love and support we are receiving it is just hard to keep up with replying right now.

Friday, the 25th I didn’t feel great at all. I texted Spencer at 10pm asking him to keep his ringer on in case I needed to get a hold of him. At 11pm he insisted on coming over, I was being really stubborn and wasn’t sure I was in labor I just felt so miserable. He got there around midnight. We fell asleep downstairs on the couch with Willow. I woke up a little after 1am certain my water broke so I texted my brother to come over and my parents and waddle to the bathroom. That’s when I knew we needed to leave as fast as possible. I was bleeding everywhere, my water didn’t break. We didn’t know at the time my placenta had torn which I’m so thankful we didn’t know because I would have been absolutely hysterical the whole 30 minutes it took us to get to the hospital. Spence loaded the bags up, my brother got the kids, and we drove as fast as we could to Pensacola. I was having intense contractions the whole drive and towards the end felt the need to push but was absolutely terrified to because we had nothing to help her breathe if she came in the car. We arrived at 2am.  They wheeled me to triage. Spencer parked the car. Him and my parents got to the room about the same time. They immediately paged NICU when they realized she was coming. They wheeled me to labor and delivery, confirmed she was head down, and started hooking up monitors. Before I could transfer beds I had one awful contraction, pushed and my water broke everywhere. They hooked monitors up and the doctor kept looking at the screen and we all knew something was wrong by his face. Her heart rate was in the 30s at this point so he said we had to go to the OR for an emergency csection. Since it was an emergency no one could come in the room since I had to be put completely under. I was prepped and under in less than 2 minutes. She was born at 2:31am. They heard her cry which was an awesome sign. Spence went with her as soon as she was wheeled out of the OR. I woke up a while later and my parents and spence were finally able to come back. Which I’ve never in my life thought id find so much comfort in seeing familiar faces but after having a ton of strange panicked faces over you it was refreshing. Soon after I had spence go back to NICU to get pictures because I hadn’t seen Aspen yet and wouldn’t be able to for a while. My parents left. His sister came and sat with us while his mom and other sister started to drive to Pensacola. They all came to visit the baby and the next day my siblings, parents and the woodland creatures were able to come see us and celebrate Reid’s birthday.  There were a lot of moving pieces and I’m so happy everyone got where the needed to in time. 

Long story short I was already high risk, I was on progesterone shots to help but we were still planning on an early delivery, but she was born so early due to the abrubtion and there was nothing they could do to stop it. 

It’s now day 3. We are so tired. The adrenaline has worn off and we are ready to go home but also so not ready to leave Aspen here. 

We appreciate all the thoughts, kind words and prayers. We’re hoping our sweet girl can come home sometime in October but we know getting there is going to be emotionally draining on all of us so right now we are just taking it day by day and counting all the little victories. Each tube that’s removed, each day that we get through without crying, and each morning we wake up knowing we are one day closer to having our little girl home with us. You’re so loved Aspen. 

Dear mom with the tear stained eyes

Dear mom with the tear stained eyes, you’re enough for them. 

2017 has been hell year for me. 

And I’m constantly feeling like I’m failing the 4 most important people in my life. 

I’ve been the mom with the tear stained eyes more times this year than in my entire 5 years of motherhood. 

I’ve cried in the Walmart check out when my toddler is having a tantrum and I hear the old man behind me sigh in annoyance. 

I’ve cried when my 4 year old yells back “you’re mean.”  

I’ve cried when people have said you can’t do this on your own because most days I believe it. 

I’ve cried when people look at my growing belly and say do you not know what birth control is. Not knowing I met an adoptive family because I felt that unfit to care for her. 

I’ve cried when I ignore another person I care about because I don’t feel like leaving the house or speaking to them.

I’ve cried when people my age make comments about how my life is ruined. 

I’ve cried after spending a day around people and pretending everything’s okay. 

I’ve cried over things that are far out of my control. 

I’ve cried because life has been one low blow after another. 

I’ve cried at 3am when I’m up trying to catch up on everything I couldn’t do when they were up. 

I’ve cried when my advisor told me taking a full course load is stupid with kids at home. 

I’ve cried after getting the kids to bed and sat outside their door in the dark simply praying for some guidance. 

I’ve scooped them out of bed a thousand times in the middle of the night and kissed their tiny faces and whisper I am sorry for everything I did wrong that day. 

For saying no when I could have said yes. For raising my voice when I didn’t need to. For saying hang on a minute when I should have stopped cleaning and watched my 4 year olds ballet routine for the 30th time. 

I’ve cried out of anger when I’m doubled over in pain due to contractions but am covered in bruises from shots that are supposed prevent preterm laboring. 

Overall I’ve felt like I’m failing miserably. To find balance. To cook. And clean. And play. And parent. And to make sure they each get at least 43 kisses a day. And to make sure I tell them I love them because I never want them to question that. And to teach them. And to get them outside to play. And to wash their little faces before bed. And to make sure I read to them every single night. And to deal with the laundry list of things that need done. 

Being a single mom is easily the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I am constantly trying to “make it up” to my kids. 

To be enough. 

I tired. I’m mentally and physically drained. And my heart hurts. 

My 4 year old is always the one who knows when I’m struggling. She’s sensitive, like her momma. 

A few nights ago I crawled into bed with her to get her to sleep and my face was yet again tear stained. She scooped my face between her tiny hands and said mom stop crying or you’ll melt your sprinkles off(my freckles) 

I laughed and said kiddo moms fine just extra tired. 

And she replied so sweetly like she does every time she knows I’m struggling and said mom, I’m 4 now. I always know when your heart is hurting. 

Which of course triggered the hormonal waterworks and I said you’re too smart for your own good now close your eyes and I’ll give you a dream (telling her a story usually about princesses and fairies)

She closed her eyes and said tonight can you give me a dream about me and the best mom in the whole world, you. 

You’re enough for them. 

They don’t see the bad. 

They see the good. 

You’re much harder on yourself than they are. 

They don’t care about the mess. 

They don’t care that the old man at Walmart was annoyed at their tantrum. 

They don’t care about any of that. 

They just care that you’re there. 

You’re theirs and they’re yours.

So to the mom with the tear stained eyes, you’re enough for them. 

What moms say vs what moms mean. 

1. What they say: I have to do laundry. 

What they mean: I have to run the washer and dryer and throw the clothes in a giant mound on the floor

2. What they say: I’m so sorry they never act like this at home 

What they mean: lol they totally act like this at home. But worse. 

3. What they say: I need to shower. 

What they mean: no for real I haven’t showered in 6 days.. 8? Idk

4.What they say: sorry about the mess 

What they mean: I seriously cleaned for 2 hours and you have no idea the amount of stuff that is shoved in the back room. So sorry about the mess but this is really clean for us. 

5. What they say: ah another stain, I didn’t even notice, she must have spit up on me. 

What they mean: I’ve worn this shirt 3 times this week. Because the mound in the hall is quickly diminishing so this is the cleanest shirt I have. Yes I slept in it. Yes I know there’s a stain. It’s been there all week. No it’s not spit up I was dipping my pizza in ranch and missed my mouth. 

6.What they say: they are so sweet

What they mean: they are so sweet on occasion. Like when the aren’t trying to be WWE fighters. Or pooping everywhere. Or saying mom every .25 seconds. 

7. What they say: I put make up on today 

What they mean: I locked my kids in a room in front of the dreaded Caillou while I slapped my face on. 

8. What they say: I peed alone today 

What they mean: I peed with the door shut and ignored the tiny fingers under the door. 

9.What they say: I need to grocery shop

What they mean: I dug through the freezer since the fridge is empty and we are even out of all our frozen meals. 

10. What they say: I love being a mom. 

What they mean: I love being a mom. Minus laundry. And fussing. And being pooped on. 
Bonus: what moms post vs. reality. 

1. Christmas pics 

2. Sister sister 

3.beach pics by a 3year old

Honest motherhood

I don’t care what anyone tells you.


If they tell you different they’re lying. 

Don’t get me wrong, it’s awesome. It’s rewarding. It’s the best thing you’ll ever do. 

But it sucks. Okay? It’s awful. 

I mean if I said you have a job that’s 24/7, you clean up bodily fluids of another human, you cook, clean, and drive them around. For FREE. You’d say no. 

You know you would. I would. 

But it pays in giggles and your child’s love. 

Tell that to the  mom running off of 3 hours of sleep, covered in poop, over the scream of her toddler saying “MOM MY SISTER IS THROWING UP ON ME” 

Let me tell you about my day. 

I have changed 11 diapers 6 (yes 6) of which were dirty diapers, 1 was a blow out. 

I paid my toddler in candy to take her medicine. 

I pinned my son down to give him his. 

I think I’ve only cried twice today (new recordddd)

“Mommy” has been said approximately 98262737 times since 8am. 

Our main meal has been Halloween candy. 

My hair is in a gross mom bun that I pulled a soggy quakers puff thing out of earlier, I have no makeup on and am wearing a baggy shirt because ain’t nobody got time for a bra today.

I peed today with 4 hands shoved under the door and since I’m being honest I stayed in there longer than nessicary and tried to drowned out the sound of “hey mom, mom whatcha doing in there”

I’ve vacuumed up about 706 goldfish. 

I think they got every single toy out today. 

We’ve been watching Christmas movies all day but when my toddler said “I’m going to punch you if you touch my toy again brother” I opened the back door and said run free children. 

Yes I considered shutting the door and letting the neighbors find them and then scrolling past their picture on the missing dog page on Facebook. 

But that’s not humane. Craigslist is a much better option. 

But seriously I’m so tired of all the flowers, sparkles and rainbows when it comes to motherhood. It’s just not that. 

It’s hard. 

It’s draining. 

It’s the hardest work you’ll ever do. 

Yes. It’s awesome. And I love it(most of the time) And it’s rewarding. And my kids are hilarious so I laugh a lot. 

BUT it also sucks. 

Honest motherhood. 

Top 10 mom fails

This was inspired by tonight’s conversation, so here are my top 10 mom fails. I have forgotten picture day, accidentally hit my kid in the head with a door, let my child fall in the toilet and many more great parenting moments but these are my top 10. 

#10 I told my daughter we couldn’t play outside because a lion escaped from the zoo… really I just wanted to finish scandal. 

#9 My daughter stole a ton of Reese’s Easter eggs from walmart(age 2). We returned them. We arrived home. I look over and she’s eating one. Still unsure how this happened. 

#8 I was speeding to get diapers at Walmart because I ran out (oops) with my 1.5 year old daughter in the back. We got pulled over. She peed her pant. Winning. 

#7 I told the cashier at Walmart I only had 2 kids… and seriously forgot momentarily I have 3. 

#6 My toddler asked me to hand her toilet paper under the stall. (The bathroom was empty at the time.) I heard someone come in. And because I didn’t give my daughter toilet paper fast enough she screamed “MOM I NEED TO WIPE MY BUTT CAN YOU GIVE ME SOME PAPER?!” To which I heard a snort. I handed her some and we walked next door to wash our hands to avoid seeing the lady in the other stall. 

#5 My 14 month old went to the bathroom in the tub, before I could get him out he grabbed the foreign object between his fat fingers… and squeezed. 

#4 I went shopping with my toddler who had earlier found the tampon/pad drawer. We were walking through the mall and she said “hey mom you have a cool sticker on your butt!” Yep. I’d been walking around with a pad on my pants for a good hour. 

#3 My son had a blow out in the car. In his hair. All over his car seat. It literally leaked through the car seat strap holes onto the actually seat of my jeep. I was disgusted so I literally hosed my child off. Like with a hose. Outside. Wait. Wait. It gets worse. The mail lady then came up to deliver a package as I was hosing my child off. 

#2 My son was circumcised after being discharged from the hospital. (This one has been told to no one not even my husband because well it was a big mom fail) Anyways we got home and I opened his diaper and was in shock. Oh my gosh it’s broken. No. no. I’m never going to have grandkids. What is this? What did they do? No. no. It’s certainly broken. I called the doctors. “Eerrr ma’am is there still gauze on it?” Oh. Oh. Okay. 

#1 I was on my way to New Orleans to see my best friend. We, the 3 kids and I, stopped at McDonalds for a bathroom break. I nursed my infant and ran in with all 3 of my tiny humans. I got back in the car and was beaming with pride that I had just taken all 3 of my kids (3,1,0) into a public restroom. Then I looked down and realized my boob had been hanging out the entire time.