SAHM

UrbanDictionary.com defines a "SAHM" as the acronym for a "Stay At Home Mom."

And in two days time, this will be my new job title.

It feels a little weird to type that. I've always been the kind that enjoys working. I like having a schedule and knowing what I'll be doing every day. I like having a challenge in my duties and doing something that I enjoy. I also enjoy pay day! Who doesn't?!

With most of my jobs, I've loved getting to know my co-workers. Have you ever thought about how much time you actually spend at work? And do you realize how much of your daily social interaction involves co-workers? I've been very blessed with most of my jobs to have people I don't mind seeing for 8+ hours a day.

Specifically, for the last 14 months, I've been working as a Real Estate Assistant for Lindy & Mike Gaughan, co-owners and agents with RE/MAX Choice Properties here in Hendersonville. Through them, I have learned alot about this field and have been introduced to many wonderful people. These people aren't just co-workers....they have become friends, confidants and like family to me. It made the decision to stay at home much harder for me than I had anticipated. I have loved (almost) every minute with my RE/MAX family and I am grateful for the opportunities it has give me both professionally and personally. Working here has given me a more personal link to the city I call home and I have no doubt that I'll keep in touch with the friends I've made.

But in a month, (or less, depending on when Baby Neal makes his big arrival) I will be taking on a much more important "job." A role that will never end, and I want to do everything I can to be prepared for this new challenge. I'm scared, I'm anxious, but most of all, I am in love with the idea of being a mother to this baby that I've been toting around for the last 34.5 weeks. Most of all, I can't wait to see my husband as a father. We already love this lil dancing baby so much, and I can't wait to finally see him face to face. And when I think about that, theres never any doubt in my mind that our choice for me to stay home is the right choice.

Now that I'm having to wipe tears away from my keyboard, I'll end this blog now and share more thoughts on my new job with my next post...

~Jenn

Shower Season

I had my first (and much-needed) Baby Shower this Saturday, thanks to my lovely mother-in-law and sister-in-law.

While I was slightly apprehensive about seeing friends for the first time since being noticeably pregnant, it actually went really well. I saw some of my friends that I hadn't seen since... my wedding, probably. The shower was scheduled from 2-4, but before I knew it, it was 7pm and we were still sitting around catching up. And even after my friends left, me and Neal, my parents and my in-laws all sat around the living room and reminisced about our childhoods and our impending parenthood... Just imagining what this baby will be like, who he'll look like, and what he'll call his grandparents. But mostly, just how much he will be loved.

Later that night, I left their house, hand in hand with my incredible husband, so grateful for loving parents and families that genuinely love each other.

I'm incredibly thankful for my mother-in-law for opening her home to me and my friends to celebrate Baby Neal. Through the thoughtfulness and generosity of my family and friends, I'm reminded of how emmensly blessed I am. And not just me, but this family Neal and I have created for each other.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - I'm not quite sure what I've done to deserve all of the wonderful things in my life. But I am happy and forever grateful for everything God has done for me. And for us.

~Jenn

I’m on FIRE!

It was a chilly day in late December when Neal and I first learned we were having a baby. I was eagerly wearing my sweaters that I had waited all summer to pull out. The air was crisp and frigid and I swear the smell of snow was in the air.

And then my doctor set a due date…. July 30^th.

I immediately started fanning myself in anticipation of being big ass pregnant in the peak of a Tennessee summer. On the way home, I looked up the bright blue sky and said, “You got me this time. Very funny, God.”

I remember saying a prayer the night of that first doctor appointment, thanking God for both the blessing and miracle of life and praying that this would be a healthy and happy pregnancy for all involved. And I think I remember adding in there that I certainly wouldn’t mind a mild summer. I mean, if God would allow it.

Now here we are in early June and we’ve had 13 straight days of 90+ degree days, most of those being mid to high 90’s. And that’s not even touching the “feels like” temperature, rising over 100 on some days. It’s unseasonably warm and humid and technically ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER YET. (Could this be what approaching the gates of hell feel like?)

They say that God would never give you more than you can handle, but sometimes I wonder why he seemingly trusts me so much? I feel like I’m growing bigger each and every day. I like to think that an overturned elephant has better luck getting out of a mud pit than I do getting out of bed each morning. Rolling over is both noisy and disgraceful looking. It’s a wonder that my husband still finds me attractive after this daily plight. But… he does. And I adore him for it, even if he’s screaming “WTF have I gotten myself into” inside. I’ll never know.

It’s probably out of reach to think that the weather will become milder in the coming weeks, but I’m trekking through. I just ask for prayers, chilled bottles of water, invites to ice cream dates and pool buddies. :)

~Jenn

Surprise!

The DVR is my best friend these days. It’s always there for me… for the nights that I can’t sleep, or the early mornings where my internal clock demands that I get up at the ass crack of dawn, or when baby Neal decides he wants to practice his Zumba moves incessantly during my much needed REM cycle. The DVR is always there.

In this time, I’ve gotten roped into some ridiculous shows. Most of them are on A&E or TLC. One such show is “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.”

The title drew me, I must say. I knew I had to see what this was about. And sure enough, it’s stories about women of all ages who carry a child, in most cases, full-term and never knew they were pregnant until they “pee themselves” and start having horrible “gas pains” and lower back pain. Thinking they are near death from some food-borne illness, they scramble to the ER only to give birth minutes later. And that’s for the lucky ones. Some give birth in grocery stores or in their own laundry room during the spin cycle.

Frozen grapes in hand, I sit there in utter confusion wondering how the hell they went 9 months and never realized they were pregnant. I try to put myself in their shoes and I still can’t imagine. That might have something to do with the fact that my pregnancy has been (knock on wood) “textbook” in most cases. I started with regular cycles, conceived in a timey manner, experienced morning sickness, put on the suggested amount of weight, the baby is growing normally and seems healthy, etc, etc. Because I’ve been intently aware of what is going on with my body from the beginning, I notice everything. Every little (or as of late, the not-so-little) kick, every mocking stretch mark, every twinge and turn of pregnancy.

But let’s just say that I didn’t know.

Hell, I can’t even imagine it.

As I lay on the couch with my swollen hooves propped up and the remote on my ever growing belly, the remote starts to shake and dance. No biggie, that’s just Baby Neal. Readjusting. Turning over. Hiccupping. Fist Pumping for joy at the warmth of my uterus. You name it, he does it. And for a few seconds it’s like an earthquake on my tummy as the remote bounces up and down for something I have absolutely NOTHING to do with. I guess that would be the biggest “sign” that something is wrong if I “didn’t know I was pregnant.” Maybe my baby is way more active than some, but if my belly was hard and enlarged and shook and rocked without my doing, I’d take my ass straight to the doctor expecting some alien-filled tumor to be discovered.

I guess that’s why this show doesn’t make sense to me. And maybe I’m just a critical pregnant woman. (It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that.) It’s just odd to me, yet I watch every episode intently with the same WTF look on my face. And TLC is laughing all the way to the bank because once again they’ve lured someone in to their ridiculous shows and they know they can’t turn away. Jokes on me.

~Jenn

We have class

Last week, Neal and I took our first class at Baptist Hospital. We entered the room and were met with a bubbly nurse, lots of pregnancy images, brochures, and plastic baby dolls clothed in diapers and onesies.

My first thought?  
"Lord, there's no telling how many germs are on these babies. I wish I had some antibacterial wipes." 

I was a little nervous about it, not really knowing what to expect, but then I looked over at my giddy husband cuddling this creepy babydoll. I couldn't help but laugh at how cute it was, and then I stopped and realized we are mere weeks from this being a real baby. It all kind of hit me. Those same feelings I've had all along - nervousness, excitement, anxiousness and complete and utter happiness.

Neal practicing his role as daddy.

The class was all about breastfeeding, and it reaffirmed all my thoughts that this is what we want to do. I know you don't want the gory details of a deep latch or colostrum, so I won't go there. Although I didn't have a choice in being subjected to graphic photos of baby bowel movements through the first week or so. Gross.
The biggest thing we need to learn from this class? We need to man the f up. Neal sees the most ridiculous things in his job, things people should never have to see in a lifetime, but he about lost it during the poop pics.

What have we gotten ourselves into?!

~Jenn