Piper Pie 7 months

Oops. I'm three weeks late. With Sienna, I was so good about being on time. About milestones being recorded. With two kiddos, I find myself more in the moment and less focused on when things happen.

 Pipey pies, you are the most interesting, cute little lady. When I think about you at 7 months, I think of your big smile first. You are always smiling. You're grin is infectious. I think about the way you suck down an apple packet in three minutes, but if I take too long to get you a spoon for other food you screech to remind me you're in charge. I think of your smell-your sweet baby smell that I know damn well is fleeting. I know it because your big sister's smell is still "Sienna" but it's laced with mud from playing outside and ketchup from dinner. I think about your soft hair and how it feels when my lips drift across your head before bedtime. I think about how you smile at me in the morning, in your little sleep sack, after you wake up and remind me that you're such a large part of my purpose here. I think about the way you bounce. I pick you up and you do your happy bounce. It's hilariously adorable. I think about how you laugh at Sienna- but how you are also learning to hold your own and you will scream or cry at her if she hits the wrong button. It's this real sister relationship that's happening. You guys are best friends already.

You want to move. You fling yourself forward from sitting up (with quiet good posture I might add) and then land on your tummy and get so mad you can't crawl yet. You'll get there. You are hot and cold with the jumparoo which for some reason makes me laugh. You are jumping like a crazy person then complaining 5 minutes later. You are enamored with the outdoors. When we open the front door or put you in the car seat you get so excited wondering where our adventure will take us. The swing on our playground in the backyard is your favorite. You especially love when Sienna pushes you.

You light up when Daddy gets home from work, but make sure I don't leave. You want us both around and prefer daddy to hold you looking out, so you can see the world.

You are a lover of naps and a hater of overnight sleep. Mama is tired. You are lucky you are cute. It's getting old. And yet, my heart can't take it when you scream and so I go in and ask you what's wrong and sometimes I feel like you snuggle in and are saying, "I just needed you mama"...We've tried sleep training but you protest. One day I'll sleep again.

You kiss me on the face in a big slobbery way. You grab my arms when the water turns on in the bath and startles you. You love me with your hugs and your squeals. When you want me you say this weird noise that sort of sounds like "MMMM-MA!" But not mama. You're my hip attachment from 5pm on. You want to stay close and see what's going on. I love this age because it's the age of real reciprocity. You not only want to be physically comforted by me, but you're interested in what I'm doing. You laugh at things that are actually funny. I love watching you learn. You're going to shatter the world with your curiosity, I just know it...

Happy 7 months to my sweet little peanut. We love you, Piper!

10 Things I wish I could change about my Mom Body (It's not what you think)

Sometimes I dream about having my pre baby body back, but I've become accustomed to those changes. The extra fat or skin or changes in shape are part of having these beautiful children. Sure, being able to wear a bikini confidently again would be nice. But do you know what would be nicer? These things. 

1.  Skinnier Hips

But not for the reason you think. Stuffed between two car seats in the backseat of our altima on a road trip with both girls crying I have never longed for a thinner model of myself. The bruises on both hip bones and awkward sideways sitting would love more space.

2: Extra Hand (or two or five but I'd settle for one)

All the time. Seriously. But recently? Target parking lot trying to "one handedly" fold the stroller and get the infant and toddler both in the car before breakdown ensues.While not letting the toddler's chocolate milk and cake pop from Starbucks spill (don't judge). It would be extra especially nice if my arm was stretchy.

3.  Breast attached to my hand

What is it with all these car things? When we are driving and the only thing I can reach back to the babe's car seat is my hand- and she is not interested at all in a hand. Wouldn't it be nice? A bottle wouldn't work either because I'd have to see what I was doing. Boobhand. 

{Honorable breastfeeding mention by my friend Sarah: Breastmilk on tap. No pumping. Just hit a button and voila- a bottle is ready}

4. Unattached eyes (That sounds so weird now that I typed it)

Especially now that it's spring. I'm running into the house with groceries, or the baby, or a coffee, and the toddler insists she is fine staying outside alone. I have to decide between bad mom and letting raw chicken decompose on the front lawn.

5. Legs that never get tired

Have you ever swayed tirelessly at 3 am for an hour, only to put the baby down and have them wake up two point five seconds later and start the process over? My legs want to fall off. But I can't sit down. BECAUSE SHE KNOWS if I sit down. How dare you rock a baby while sitting instead of standing? Legs. I need better ones. 

6.  Everlasting clean hair.

It's not that I don't cherish the time I do get to take a hot shower, I do. A lot. But the process of washing, drying, and flat ironing takes time. Sometimes I don't feel like it. Sometimes I have two kids and am trying to get out the door to gym class and dry shampoo has to be my bff. But ongoingly clean hair I never would have to worry about? Sign.me.up.

7. Bigger (stronger) bladder.

Post pregnancy bladder is just not what it used to be. And even before that, I was always the one in line at the frat party 10x after a few miller lites. But now? I don't have time to pee. Especially not when I'm out with both girls/at a park with no bathroom/in the car with the kids/running out the door late for work. I need this organ to hold about five times what it does now. That would be lovely. 

8. A voice box that repeats what I say in programmed intervals.

Put on your shoes. It's time for dinner. Please bring your cup downstairs. I hate nagging. I truly do. I would love it if my brain just sent out wavelengths telling my kids what to do when I needed them to do it. It could even follow them around the house while I packed up the diaper bag.


9. A husband's ability to sleep through all sounds.

Okay, fine, that's not a "body" thing but maybe an ear thing? Once the hubby is out, he's out. He will hear a screeching baby or a blood curdling toddler scream. But that babbling I hear? Never. The foot hitting the crib that jolts me awake? Nope. Peaceful dreams. Give me some of that.


10. Photographic Memory that printed actual photos and videos. On demand.

The time DOES go fast. My iphone cannot keep up with the amount of hilarious things my toddler says or the cute phases my baby makes. I want to capture it, all in my head, and one day be able to go back and say "What was Piper doing on April 6, 2015?" or "How did Sienna say the word banana ate age 3 when she's talking too fast?"(ablana for the record). This one is cheesy, I know. But I'm the biggest proponent of photo taking, and I want the memories to all last as long as humanly possible. I can't be in two places at once either (damn, maybe I just need two of me) so I'd love the sweet snapshot of my toddler before bed time before scuttling off to rock the infant.

I guess none of this is realistic, but a girl can dream. What mombody part do you wish you had?

See? Need a third arm to carry bags. And possibly have a cocktail.

 

T H R E E

{Another late post, I started writing this the night before Sienna's 3rd birthday,}

Oh Sienna,

A little over three years ago, daddy and I were waiting. We kept being told any day, any minute. Dr. McCracken, mommy's OB, and the wonderful woman who would deliver you, told me it was almost time- and we scheduled a day for your arrival.

I remember waiting to be admitted to the hospital. There was a couple across from us waiting, too. Their second baby. Now I know what that feels like too. I can remember the smell of the room. I remember my sweet nurse. I remember telling myself then and there to bring my own Gatorade next time.

I was ready. I thought I was ready, anyway. For a first baby, you came pretty quickly. And when you arrived, they marveled at your full head of hair- and how you managed to be all curled up inside, giving us the impression you would be smaller than you were. Seven Eleven. The nurse guessed your weight perfectly.

And on that day, three years ago, I became a mama. And you became mine. Three years has gone by so fast it makes my head spin. Your baby days feel like light years behind us. And yet, if I close my eyes I can distinctly feel your body against my chest nursing after your naps at 10 months old. I can remember your sweet chubby cheeks and your baby giggle so very clearly. Three is SO good. I love that you're still such a cuddler. Into my arms, into my body, you want to be close to us. It's endearing and beautiful and I know it will be come more rare as time moves on. You're stubborn and you know what you want- I hope that never fades (just be polite while doing it). You are a fantastic learner.

Your big blue eyes and crazy hair of head are your own. You wear them well. You choose pajamas most days over clothes. You choose giving me and daddy one last hug before we leave for work over finishing your game. You choose ice pops over dinner. I am so in love with you little bug. You're a tremendously good big sister. You love and look out for Piper already. The night before I left our house to have Piper,  I kissed you goodnight and sang to you until you fell asleep. I knew it was our last night with you as our only one. I just couldn't imagine (after a few weeks of adjustment) how perfectly you and Piper would go together. It seems, that you, me, daddy, and Piper were meant to be a family. And I love that you include all of us when you say we are "best friends forever".

Happy Birthday to my carousel loving, sweet, talkative, empathetic girl. I love you to pieces, Sienna Grace Walls.

S I X MONTHS of Piper.

Half of a year!

Miss Piper turned six months old a couple weeks ago. I am so behind on blogging and keeping these updates, but I really do hope my girls can look back and see how they grew and changed so here it goes. Better late than never:

P is so smiley. Every single person who sees her says this. She smiles at everyone as long as they smile at her. Our nanny greets her with "hi smiley girl!" every morning. Sienna pulls her paci out of her mouth and says "hiiiii Piper!!" to get her to reveal her gummy grin.

Piper is still our little peanut- 14lbs 14 oz a week before her six month birthday! She's 26 inches so not really a peanut in length. Our girl is still obsessed with breast milk only. After getting her tongue tie and lip tie clipped, she honestly doesn't nurse much better and still prefers bottles- but lots of them. Solid foods so far are sort of bleh- she isn't super impressed! This girl prefers the healthiest stuff around, so I keep pumping for her. We sort of have it down to a science now.

She is learning and doing so much each day. Every morning she likes to sit and watch Sienna as she runs around like crazy. She loves picking up objects and can FINALLY get her own pacifier back in her mouth thankfully. Of course, at night, she seems to forget that progress and cry for mama. We are working on sleep. Definitely working on it. I used to say Sienna was my bad sleeper- I was wrong. Pipes, you sure know how to keep mama on her toes in the hours of 10pm-6am!

She's rolling around and reaching for things but no actual movement yet. Which is fine with me because I'm well aware it all gets way harder after that! Six months feels like a big deal, but also feels like P's always been with us. Sienna adores her and watching them play is so fun. I can't wait for Piper to continue to learn from Sienna and I can only imagine the trouble these two will get into in another few months when P starts to really move.

Piper, you are so adorable. You are sweet and cuddly and mama's little buddy lately. I can't wait to see what the second half of your first year has in store for us!

XOXO,
Mama

The things I love about you: Volume I: Sienna

(Almost) three year olds can be hard at times. But lately, I've been making a concerted effort day in and day out to focus on the positives of my kids. I feel fortunate they are mostly healthy, sweet, happy girls. Why do we so often focus on the negatives of our kids? I am guilty of it- I am tired when one doesn't sleep, frustrated with tantrums. But I want to celebrate them too. I want them to know what gems of people they are. I want them to know I see the best in them, even on the hardest days.

So here we go. This list is dedicated to you, Sienna.
In two weeks you will be THREE (!!!) years old. And here's what I love about you.

1. Your cheesy cheesy smile.

2. Your sweet singing voice (current favorite song you sing: "Everyone gets hurt sometimes... from, Doc McStuffins)

3. You are daringly adventurous. Jumping off of couches and into snow.

4. Your blue eyes that get so wide if someone else is upset. You can't teach empathy. But you've got it, baby girl. You care so much and it's written all over your face.

5.  The way you hug- with your whole body and your whole heart.

6. The way you ask "May I" when you want to do something- but also misuse the phrase and say "May you" also.

7. Your excitement that becomes palpable and infectious. You shake your arms in the air and jump up and down and squeal and you get so excited that you can barely get your words out.

8. Your love for pajamas. It makes me laugh. All day every day, you'd wear them if you could.

9. The sponge that is your brain. Curious is a vast understatement for someone like you. You are a fierce learner- you want to know everything. You ask so many questions a day and then the next day you surprise me with your knowledge. My current favorite thing you learned is that recycling is "to take trash and make something brand new and useful".

10. How adorable you are when you convince me to let you sleep on the couch for a nap- and then cuddle up under a blanket 10x the size of you.

11. Your ability to make everyone around you smile and engage people. We could be at Starbucks and you are asking the man in front of us what coffee he is drinking, or where his kids are (awkward at times), or introducing yourself to a new friend at the park.

12. That when we ask what your name is you say "Sienna Grace Walls" and call daddy "JAMIE WALLS!" when he doesn't answer you the first time.

13. Your creativity. It blows my mind that at not even three you can pretend you're on a boat to Disney world or a space ship, or that there are crocodiles chasing us in a river. It's dreamy to have a kid whose imagination runs as wild as mine.

14. Your hair. It just - I cannot stop laughing at it. It's beautifully wild and thick and all over the place. We can't get control of it- sort of perfect for you. 

15. The way you love your baby sister. The way you run to get her after naps and tell her it's okay when she cries. It makes me tear up thinking about it. You're SUCH a good big sister.

16. The way we are connected at the heart- you are truly my mini me. You feel as strongly as I feel. You smile as big as I smile. You cry as hard as I cry. Sensitive by nature, you let life happen and take it all in.

17. You've become my shopping buddy. Shoes? Yes. Clothes? YES! Toys- of course. You willingly scramble to get on your shoes and jacket, request a starbucks stop (sure kiddo), and say "Let's go to the circle store!" Target is our fav place to spend money together.

18. Your love of books. Stories will take you everywhere.

19. The way you light up when I mention birthdays- because they involve cake. And that you insist on making a cakes for every.single.birthday there is!

20. You are kind. You are so so kind. You ask daddy if he would like a sticker too. You hold my hand. You ask what's wrong if I'm looking tired or sad. You make get well cards for neighbors who aren't well without being prompted.

21. Your honesty. The words "Mommy you look awful" or "Today Piper peed on her changing table when you at work mommy" are so much more hilarious from a toddler. I love it. Keep me updated, kiddo.

22. The way you love your daddy. You fly into his arms after work, and you my girl, prove to me over and over again I married the right guy.

23. Your laugh that makes you almost topple over.

24. Your love of "crafts". You + Me + AC Moore forever. I think one day I'll teach you to scrapbook.

25. Your personality emerges more and more every day. I love you because you make me a better mom, a better person, and you bring me back down to earth when I'm getting wound up about silly things. Something about your sweetness and innocence reminds me everything will be okay.

XOXO,

MAMA

The case of a missed tongue & lip tie.

This is a long story.  I've actually sat down to my blog to write this a few times, at different points, but the tears come and I get too frustrated. Now that I have some answers- even if they can't fix things- I'm ready to get the story out there.

When Piper was four days old (yes four days), I called a lactation consultant that we used with Sienna. I specifically said "she's clicking when she eats". I was sore. I was already starting to develop thrush. But girlfriend could latch and stick her tongue out and the LC said "not tied". I asked a few more times and was told if she could latch okay, she was fine.

She also was gaining weight, which in retrospect I think was only because I had SUCH a huge oversupply. She barely had to suck to get milk. We had so many difficult symptoms. Gas, reflux, constipation on her end. Thrush, nursing pain, redness on my end. The latch was awful no matter what I did. Her little lip flipped under. Still, we kept on trekking.

Fast forward to seven weeks old. This was my first major breakdown. Piper slept 7 hours straight at night some nights, but wouldn't feed. She would cry and claw at me, pop on and off. Sometimes completely refuse to nurse. We'd go five hours, then I'd give her a bottle. Some days we barely fed at all.  Bed time became so horrible because she would start crying on the way upstairs. She was too tired to make the effort to feed- looking back I know this now. So I'd give her a bottle and then pump. I cried so many tears. Endless tears about losing my nursing relationship. We went to a wedding that weekend. I put on a smiling face but it was one of my hardest days of parenthood. The break, as I look back, probably was the best thing for me. But, my heart was broken into pieces.

From weeks seven until thirteen, we ran the gamut to figure out what was wrong. A second opinion from another (wonderful) LC. Visits to the chiropractor. Two trips to the GI specialist. Everyone said- reflux must be the culprit because she was spitting and coughing and looking disorganized. After tons of fighting, it was time to return to work. Bottles became part of her everyday repertoire.

I began "exclusively pumping" aka a life of hell. I pump, clean my parts, put together the next bottle and hope to get it all done during her naps. I freeze what I can when I can. When P's awake, I lay her on the play mat or in her bouncy chair. Oh, that second child I have? Right. Sienna is usually really good while I pump and we can do things like puzzles or painting or coloring which is cool with her as long as she has my attention. At first, I couldn't keep up. I found a kind hearted mama friend who donated milk to us in case we needed back up. I slowly worked on building my supply. I took supplements. I ate oatmeal. I increased my fluids. I pumped up to 10 times a day. It worked, at least to a degree, because most days I pump more than she consumes. I am proud to say I now have over 450 ounces in my freezer.  My first goal was to make it to 6 months on exclusively breastmilk- and we've almost done it! This is not to sound like I'm whining either- pumping is 100% my choice. I could formula feed but that's just not what I have in mind for myself and Piper. Every day I wake up and make the decision to keep going with this. And so far, that's the best choice for us even if it does mean extra work. 

 The middle of the night nursing has been the one thing I can hang onto.  I go in there and scoop her up and cuddle her close and she is still the most erratic nurser on the planet. But she nurses. I feel milk dripping down my arms sometimes as it spills out of her mouth. She latches and unlatches and sometimes sighs and grunts when she's frustrated. But it's just us- and there's no rush- and it works for now. She keeps my supply up and I get middle of the night sweetness. (Her night waking and me refusing to fully sleep train her is also a product of nursing at this time).

After a few months of all of this, I've settled in. Pumping is still not fun but I've learned the tricks of the trade, I can get it done relatively quickly when I need to, and I have a husband and support system that lifts me up and keeps me motivated. And Piper, sweet smiley happy Piper thrives on breast milk.

Two weeks ago I was home with Piper playing on the floor. As I was making funny noises with her lips, I realized it was hard to lift her top lip. So then I tried more. And what did I see? A TIE. I don't even know ties well but I saw it right away. I started fishing for information all over. I joined a facebook group about tongue ties. I read up on Dr. Ghaheri's website. I read Dr. Kotlow's website. She hit every single symptom. I did too. The thrush, the pain, the poor latch, the lack of weight gain. And there it was... in front of me this whole time....

Piper is tongue and lip tied. 

She's posterior tongue tied, which is harder to find. But still, it's there. Her frenulum on her top lip is tight and wide, so it likely would cause funky spacing in her teeth. And no one caught it until I took to the internet. It makes me wildly insane that my breastfeeding relationship was squandered by something that could have been fixed... you know... back at that four day mark. If you think something is wrong with feeding, keep seeking help. Keep asking more people for more opinions. Feeding shouldn't be a struggle! Not like this.

So here we are. Trying to balance the anger and the hope. My poor baby hasn't been fussy, she's been struggling to functionally eat well. Last night as the monitor turned from green to orange and I heard her cries, I went to get her and settled into her chair. I nursed her as I felt her dribbling milk out. I reassured her that she was okay and to try again when she unlatched. I smelled her sweet smell and held her close- and in that moment in the dark at 4am, I reminded myself we are just both doing the best we can.

Next week we go back for her appointment to get her tongue and lip revised. I'm hopeful, but also realize that she's now been having bottles and nursing erratically for five months. We will have to retrain her in proper sucking. Do stretches. The battle isn't over, but at least we know what we're fighting now.

On the upside: I have the smiliest happiest girl. And for that, despite all of this, I am thankful.

Two peas in a pod.

It's happening. That time when I look back at pictures of when Sienna was smaller and get teary. The time when I feel like I blinked and P morphed from a newborn into a playful infant. It's no secret to anyone who knows me that the tiny baby days are a challenge for me- the lack of sleep, the loss of control, the unexpected. It never was my thing. But still, time is so fleeting. It's always a push and pull. It's like I am wishing away the two hours before bedtime while not wanting the day to end. I'm hoping P talks early so she and Sienna can converse for hours, but not wanting her to grow a single inch more.

Lately, I realize they are both coming into their own in different ways. Piper is five months- and six to ten months was my favorite baby time period with Sienna. Sienna is almost three (cue tears- seriously) and is the sweetest, funniest toddler I know.

And the BEST part? They are really, really starting to enjoy each other. Their smiles are infectious. Sienna insists on being the one to get Piper from her nap (she goes in and says in her high voice, "Hiiii Piper. Good morning! You have a good little nappy"). Piper smiles and laughs at Sienna. When Sienna is around, Piper can't eat because she is too distracted and just becomes so intrigued. They are already becoming best friends, I can tell. Piper prefers two things in life: To be carried on mama's hip and to be watching her big sis.

Sometimes Miss Sienna needs some mama time. Like on Saturday morning. So we bungled up (her word for bundle) in our fuzzy boots and we set out for Target to pick up some things for the house-- and girlfriend insisted we go shoe shopping. I could not love her anymore.But when we came home? She needed to get Piper up from her nap, hold her for awhile, and then play with her. Their hearts are tied, I can just imagine our future: the giggles and whispers coming from their room at night as Jamie and I tell them for the 20th time they need to go to sleep.

Sometimes, once in awhile, when I stop and take it all in instead of rushing around to get things done, I feel like we're in a movie. Smiling family. Happy babies. Dancing in the kitchen. It doesn't happen every day, but when it does it's lovely. My mind is full of still frames from the perfect moments.

Little love bug

Piper,

 

You are sweet and always smiling. Everyone comments on your cheery little face.

You like to hold onto my arm when we walk around the house.

And at night, when you're tired, we curl up in your chair.

Sometimes I do miss nursing, but you're so sweet and content.

You look up at me and coo. You wrap your fingers around mine.

You grab your lovie and close your eyes.

 

Five months has gone by in a flash.

I love you, littlest one.

 

Catch Up + Sienna says

Eek! Life with two kiddos is way busier than life with one.

Blogging has taken a back seat to eating and sleeping, which are my go-to activities when my girls are having any sort of down time.

Since my last post, it's been awhile. A lot has happened! Piper is smiley and laughing and almost sitting up! But, her nursing got worse. We are now exclusively pumping during the day and nursing at night. It's sort of horrifying at times for me, as I love nursing so much. But she's getting my breast milk, and on the upside I definitely have more freedom to come and go and do fun things with Sienna. Pipey is sweet and cute as can be, and aside from the eating she's a pretty mellow kiddo. She does like to have her paci and lovey when she's tired but otherwise, it's rare to hear her really cry. Except the car seat- she HATES that thing.  I can't believe she's almost 5 months old!!

Sienna is an absolutely hilarious munchkin of a child. She cracks me up. Today, she and Jamie were sitting in the kitchen and he was teaching her about wish bones. We asked if she knew what a wish was and she said yes.   The rest of the convo went like this:

Jamie: Okay, so what do you wish for?
Sienna: I wish for all of us to be friends FOREVER
(cue heart melting...)

Second wish bone:
Jamie: I wish for Sienna and Piper to grow up and be really happy
Sienna: Awwww that's so SWEET daddy. I wish for all of us to go and lie on a beach and make sand angels.

I love watching her grow and watching my girls together, too.

Happy Saturday!

For my "Mean Mommy" friend.

During an otherwise crazy and at the same time mundane day today, I got the email I've been dreading for awhile. I knew it was coming.  My friend, Sam, lost her (hard fought and brilliantly endured) battle with colon cancer at the sickeningly young age of 32. And I sat down to write because, this woman, this mom, deserves to be written about. And as usual, words aren't enough. But let me back up...

When Sienna was four months old, I was losing sanity as quickly as I was losing sleep. Some days I felt like I was unraveling and I needed someone to take my string and coil it back up to get me in order. I found a warm comfort in what some might call strange- two other mamas, with kiddos exactly Sienna's age- that I met on an online baby chat forum. Think match.com for new moms, minus the match and with a lot of added stress laden messages.

Sam and Elisabeth quickly became "real "friends to me. I felt like my heart was connected to them in ways I can't quite explain. We sent thousands (or what felt like thousands-  it could have been hundreds) of emails to each other. I could count on them to answer me at 4am and to hear me out. I knew that they were also awake, staring at their smart phones, reading facebook or pinterest, or an email from each other, hoping their baby would start to head back into a sweet slumber instead of wail. We sort of cut through the fog of new motherhood lack of sleep together. Jamie always joked that Sam was my internet boyfriend because her sweet, creative genes meant she always sent us cute handmade cards and gifts. My sister in law once asked me- who is Sam and Kai?! She likes every photo on Instagram. I explained. She giggled. But I was serious when I said they were my rock during crazy infant days... Sam and Elisabeth were never just Internet friends. They knew and heard more about my inner mom brain than any other humans on the planet. Sam always called herself the "Mean Mommy" because she was the most bad-ass sleep trainer out of all of us (I recall once she slept in the basement so she wouldn't get upset by Kai's cries). To be honest, she was pretty bad-ass in general. I always felt like she was telling me one more cool thing about herself each day.

From four months until two and a half years, our emails continued. Birthdays came and cards showed up. Christmas rolled around and Kai's face was mainstay amongst our fav holiday greetings from friends. We celebrated years gone by and survival of early motherhood. But we didn't know Sam would soon learn that survival was far more than sleepless nights with a newborn, potty training, and toddler tantrums. A few months ago, Sam sent us an email. She was diagnosed with colon cancer. My heart stopped when I read the email. I knew it was bad, but she never once let on to how difficult her journey was- and her beautiful emails were laced with positive vibes of ongoing hope....  Still, I worried about her. I felt the emails fade and her instagram posts became less frequent. My worry grew stronger.

Sam always raved about her family, so it was no surprise that when her husband emailed us, the words that littered the screen were heavily emotional and intensely passionate. He let us know that he was losing his wife. That Kai's sweet and brilliant mama was in palliative care. My tears were not just shed for my own sadness but for her hubby and her son. Sienna is Kai's age, and try as I might, I can't convince myself that there is something bigger than me, some plan to this life, when these things happen. It's so damn unfair for a two year old to lose his mom. It's unfair for a young dad to lose his partner in raising him. And it's unfair that one of the most impactful people on me early in Sienna's life- a time that was one of the hardest I've encountered so far- is not going to get to experience the joys and woes of any more little babies or of her first gorgeous son growing up.

Sams husband sent us family photos with his heartbreaking email- and even sick- Sam was decked out in clothes I could only dream of coming up with and putting together- stylish with a side of funky. I always admired and was mildly jealous she could pull off those outfits. She wore gold sequined shoes on her first day of this battle with cancer. Her closet is likely mourning with the rest of us.  Kai's style echoes hers (Daryl I'll try to send kai anything that screams Sammy style to me as the days go on). I will forever be grateful for knowing her. For having a mom friend who got it. For her email titles that made me laugh including one fondly called "Face down baby" when our littles began tummy sleeping.

We used to joke- we should write a book. A book about sleep training, about getting through the early days, about the power of friendship when you're at the end of your rope. We said it would be composed of our endless emails- interjected with reality- which sometimes we missed the boat on when we slept three hours the night before. There's so little you can do when a child loses their mama; you can't possibly fill them up with the memories you with they would carry with them. But, Elisabeth and I both realized as soon as we heard about Sam that we have to do this. So here's our promise- over the next year or so, to start composing a book for Kai. A book where he can see the ways his mom loved him and caringly put effort into every minute with him- from the time he was tiny. A book where he can laugh as he gets older and has his own kids about how crazy having a newborn is and how his mommy was the leader of the pack of emailing friends.

 

Tonight, I am holding my girls closer. I am shedding tears intermittently between the smiles I show them. I will take in the 1 am and 3am baby wakings, the blow out diapers, the toddler tantrums, the crazy games S asks me to play when it's bed time.  I will hug them extra, smell their sweet baby scents, and nuzzle my nose into their hair and kiss them goodnight, but not without a few extra minutes of their little hands and chests slowly relaxing into me. I will hold my husband's hand longer- and embrace the love that's in front of me. Because, I get to wake up and do it every day. I get to be a mom, a wife, I get to indulge in the real raw emotion that is family. I know Sam would have given anything to get to continue this. When I start to get lost in the mix that is the frustration of motherhood and wifehood and life, I'll think of her.

She lived her life with vigor and hope and love. With dignity and strength and the kind of brilliance and shine that is felt even through an email. Sam, even from afar, we will do everything we can to make sure little guy of yours feels every ounce of love you had for him. Here's to you, mean mommy- you were truly truly one of the best.