Being a mom to a newborn is definitely a confusing role. One part of you cherishes each and every moment. You luxuriate in the sweet baby smell, soft skin, utter neediness, and tiny grunts and coo’s. Your heart aches with their cries. You orbit them like Earth does the Sun. They are your entire world and you cannot imagine life without them in it anymore.

BUT, on the flip side, their cries irritate your sleep-deprived mind. You shush and shush without soothing them and feel like you might be on the brink of madness. They want to nurse constantly and you cannot do anything with yourself besides sit there like a glorified cow.

Evangeline came into this world 3 weeks earlier than expected. Legitimately the only woman in this family to be early for anything, lol. She’s our third daughter and my pregnancy with …

Sleep deprivation is hands down the worst part of having a newborn. Close second might be breastfeeding. Sure, despite the 50 things I basically LOVE about breastfeeding, it does literally and figuratively suck. You are tied to the baby because of your boobs. You can’t really go anywhere and I personally feel like a food source vs. a human during the first month or so. 

Nursing compounds the sleep issue since ONLY YOU can provide food in the middle of the night. ONLY YOU can stop the cries. So, that means ONLY YOU gets up when the wee babe decides to have a cluster feeding session and chow down on your boobs.

My Facebook feed is flooded with fights right now. The virus, racial inequalities, politics. It’s a never ending spiral of dissenting opinions and arguments. 2020 has been the year for opposing views…a royal shit show that doesn’t appear to be getting better any time soon. Like everyone, I have my opinions and certain views on most of these topics. But, I very rarely comment on anything for two reasons. First, I’m not an expert on anything so I don’t feel qualified to argue against someone. And secondly, I fucking hate arguments.

Apologies out the gate if this post is a little haphazard and seems like it was written by a sleep-deprived, walking milk truck who can’t remember anything unless it’s written down on a piece of paper. The post may seem less coherent than my others but I wanted to write down Evie’s birth story soon before all the details get lost in this brain of mine and I forget the pain, guilt, and sheer joy/love of welcoming my third daughter into this crazy world we live in right now.

Evangeline’s birth story is a song of sun and water. I wish I could say ice and fire because then I’d be like Daenerys Targaryen in Game of Thrones with my three offspring…but, that bitch went crazy in the end so I guess I shouldn’t try to compare.

Anyways, this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down…I mean, here’s the story of Miss Evangeline Maeve’s birth – 3 weeks earlier than planned.

The age gap between my kids is pretty significant and for the most part, 100% intentional. Four and a half years separates Scarlett from Gianna. Baby girl #3, who is due in June, will be almost 9 years younger than Scarlett. I intentionally waited to try for another baby. I’ve talked about those reasons before. So now, here I am essentially starting all over again when my oldest is 13.

One big thing for me that is different about this pregnancy vs. my other two is now I have two little mothers around. Two little mothers who want to be involved, but who are also watching me and judging. I never had to deal with two girls constantly analyzing my choices and behaviors with any of my other pregnancies. They were both too young before to truly know or care about any of that. But this time, they are involved and it’s super, super sweet and super fucking annoying at the same time.