Lauren Wellbank

One mom and her struggle to survive until bedtime


Tag: Breastfeeding

8 thoughts every mom has while breastfeeding

#boobthenoob

Being a new mom is hard. You’re tired, full of raging hormones, and you may or may not be so sleep deprived that you’re nearing a mental breakdown.

And that’s after spending the past 40 weeks being tired, full of hormones, and sleep deprived.

Being a new mom is hard… wait, I think I said that already… Continue reading

What moms really wish they could put on their baby registry

Your baby registry- you’re never sure if you’re asking for too much or too little.  The chances are, you’ve registered for the wrong stuff all together.

This pregnancy has been significantly different than my last for lots of reasons.  Not least of which is that I am already a mother.  For some reason that seems to make pregnancy fly by.  Where my first drug on and I felt like it would never end, I am now staring down the barrel of only having nine weeks left.

Tiny shoes never get old. Never.

I also don’t have to worry about registries or showers this time.  We are having another girl, and only two-ish years after the first.  I still have almost everything I need from last time.

Continue reading

How I finally found my mom tribe in a Facebook group

In 2014 I heard the term “mom tribe” for the first time.

Of my very few girlfriends, only a handful were what you would consider close relationships.  Even fewer yet were mothers.  I’d had no reason to be familiar with that term up until then, because before a cold morning in December, I’d had no use for mom tribes.

Just like most new moms, I struggled in the beginning.  I had questions, I felt inadequate, and I wondered more often than not if I was even cut out for all of this. Continue reading

To my daughter on her final days as an only child

We’re snuggled up on the couch together as I write this.  Your head resting on my shoulder, your arms intertwined with mine.

You fell down earlier while running through the hallway.  I was busy pulling your old bassinet out of the bottom of your closet, as you ran up and down the hallway, yelling with glee.  When I reached you, big wet tears were already rolling down your cheeks and you were clutching your knee.

Photo by Darian Green

And then there were four

After I soothed your tears away you asked to get into your bassinet.  You’ve been too big for it for so long now, but you were still desperate to get back into it.  Instead I rocked you, and cooed at you, and told you about the days when you used to fit into it.  Pretending to suck your thumb with your eyes half closed you smiled, laughed, and said, “I a baby.”  Continue reading

On my daughter’s second birthday, a season of lasts

If I had known that it was going to be the last time, I would have taken our picture.  One of you falling asleep the way that you had every day of your entire life.  Your eyes were usually half closed with a happy smile playing around your lips, all of your focus on nursing.

Your hands were almost always clasped together, as if in some silent prayer.  Sometimes you would pull off to laugh, say something to me, or start singing me a song.  Sometimes you would just flop back, contented, and drift off to sleep.  No matter how it ended, it always started the same, just the two of us in our quiet routine.

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Lindsay and I nursing our babies right before my wedding in 2015, photo by Maria Kalitina

Yes, you were almost two, and I was almost five months pregnant, and I was so ready for this part of our relationship to be over, but you were not.  It had become both a physical and emotional strain on me in the last month of this pregnancy.  I would sit there with you, watching you drift off to sleep, and quietly hope that soon this part of our journey would be done.

And then one day, it just endedContinue reading

The Nomad Mom

Where is my tribe? I am wandering lost through a barren landscape, a nomad with no place to call home. Where is my tribe? I always assumed I would be your run of the mill mainstream mom (although that was back when I was foolish enough to think any part of parenting was “run of the mill”). I actually used to mock attachment parenting. When that Life Magazine issue came out with the woman breastfeeding the kid on a ladder that phrase became synonymous with weirdo. I proclaimed to anyone that would listen that when I became a mom I would have a baby that only ever slept in their room. If we even decided to breastfeed it would be for no more than three months. We weren’t going to be weirdos. Then I got pregnant and it turned out that I was a little less mainstream than I thought. We bed share. I am still breastfeeding my (gasp) toddler. I baby wear and cloth diaper. I did the whole baby led weaning thing. I became an attachment parent, a weirdo.  I looked to the crunchy moms.

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Maternity photograph by Maria Kalitina

Where is my tribe? It wasn’t the crunchy moms. I used Tylenol, not an amber necklace, to deal with teething pain. I gladly produce my photo ID whenever I need to buy Sudafed instead of snorting rosemary oil. We are following the CDC’s vaccination schedule. Definitely not crunchy.

Where is my tribe? Where are my outliers? My in-betweeners? I feel like we are an under represented group. Maybe that’s because there are too few of us to be a tribe. We are the parenting nomads. Roaming the parenting landscape not really settling on one strict parenting style over the other. Taking what we can, what we like, what works for us, from the landscape as we go.

Where is my tribe? High school wasn’t so long ago that I have forgotten about trying to find a lunch table that would have me. In the school cafeteria of life, I am still fifteen, with a yellow plastic tray of mashed potatoes and chocolate milk in my hands. Once again I feel like nobody will have me. Back then I was the weirdo in neon colors and stripped thigh-high stockings. Now I am the weirdo with the toddler that needs a boob break in the middle of the birthday party. The weirdo who has to be home early because I need to get my daughter to sleep and that means I have to nurse her down next to me in our bed. The weirdo that said yes to DTAP and gives children’s Tylenol for a fever. The weirdo with no friends.

Where is my tribe? Why do I need a tribe? I’m an outcast again. All striped tights and florescent colors, hoping that someone will offer me a seat at their table. Why do I need so badly to be accepted and to spend my time with like minded mothers? Why can’t I be contented to smile and wave at the other nomads who cross my path? My tribe less brethren.

 

I don’t need a tribe, I need a friend. Just one person to offer me a seat at their table. To smile and wave as we cross paths. If you are out there, and you’re like me and just looking for a friend, please know that I’m looking for you too. I won’t judge you if you don’t judge me. I will be happy to talk about your amber necklace if you’ll listen without judgement when I explain how I cried when my daughter received her most recent shots. We can be in-betweeners together. I’ll try your rosemary oil, but know that I reserve the right to use my Sudafed as a fall back. We can agree that we both chose the sleep situation that works for us.

I am looking for you and I hope that I find you soon. Until then, I’ll be saving you a seat.

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