all the feels – Page 4 – Soundly Sarah

My heart soars.

05/18/2018 No Comments

O’s childcare is slowly getting him used to being in the 3-5 room, as he will be moving to it in September (he will be getting a support worker to help him once he gets there, thankfully).

His impending move has slowly meant spending time with children significantly older than him. They all walk, run and are quite tall. Especially when you are stuck in the third percentile and essentially sitting nearly everywhere you go (with scooting being his main form of transportation). Sometimes, it can be scary when the world and everyone in it towers over you.

But, and this is what brings me to feel an overflowing abundance of joy, the 3-5s have started to notice this. In ways of empathy, acceptance and brilliance, they have realized that he needs people on his level. So, yesterday, they began to scoot with him. They sat on the ground with him. They played with him. All in ways where they could equally reach, interact and socially engage.

My heart aches at times to see O’s differences and the special rights that he needs. At times like these, however, it soars.

Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

She works.

11/17/2017 No Comments

A year ago today I went back to work after my mat leave.

Biggest things I’ve learned so far?

Being a mom and working full-time is no freakin’ joke.
I’m tired. Not newborn tired, but it rivals what came after that. Weekends have never, ever been sweeter, though they are now much harder than they ever were before.
I feel like I have no brain cells. I’ve come to realize my brain pre and post mat leave are two dramatically different things. Post mat leave brain is still struggling to understand what that means, on top of fitting everything else into it that I’m now asked of.
I have very little time for mostly anything. Between work demands, parenting demands, and personal demands, the time I have in my life is stretched so thin that a flick of the wrist could break it’s mere illusion.
And I miss my kid. A whole freakin’ lot. Picking him up from childcare everyday fills me with such a sweet, blissful, contentment. It makes me whole. My heart feels radiant and complete. And saying goodbye to him the next morning is a bittersweet event that always, always comes too soon.

But there is something undeniably needed in this crazy, exhausted, sometimes dead brain of mine: a purpose beyond myself and my world. One that gives. That cares. That spreads joy. That empowers. That helps.

And so work I will.

Motherhood

I will miss this.

05/03/2017 No Comments

With a heavy but accepting heart, our breastfeeding journey is now coming to an end.

These past seventeen months of my body helping feed and keep alive my son has been deeply profound (and at times frustrating, let’s be real).

This last picture of us before I switched to pumping (and before the world became too fascinating for him to stay latched) holds a place forever in my heart.

Thank you, breastfeeding, for helping me learn to love parts of my body that I never used to… and thank you, O, for letting me know now that it is time for us to move onto other journeys together. 💚⁣ ⁣

I will miss this so much.

Mental Health, Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

A tender spot.

02/28/2017 No Comments

The interesting thing about those who suffer from post-partum anxiety (which I can probably just call anxiety at this point considering that I’m now 15 months PP) is this: one’s absolute lack of staying in the present. And by interesting, I mean freakin’ terrible.

My kid was super sick over the weekend. Like, all I want to do all day long is lay on your body please don’t move, OH GOD HOW DARE YOU MOVE, sick. He held our weekend hostage, but whateve, that’s parenting.

In the midst of it all I made an attempt to cheer him up a little bit. Everyone loves a little tickles, right?! So, he squirmed rapidly in my arms, leaned to the right and promptly bit the ever living crap out of me. It HURT. I’ve got a sweet bruise from it now that is painful to touch. It was a legit bite.

Of course, the second it happened, I was in immediate panic mode. For example, the thoughts that were racing through my head: omg, he’s gonna be one of those kids. He’s gonna be a biter. He’s not gonna have any friends. All the other kids around him are gonna be afraid of him. So, *calculates exact wording and plan of action in her head*, this is how we’re gonna approach it. When it happens at childcare, this is how we’re gonna manage it. When it comes up in parent teacher meetings, this is how we’re gonna address it. We’re gonna see him through this, we’re gonna help his manage his frustration in ways different but not harmful, and it’ll all be okay. We’ve got this, we’ve got this, we’ve got this…

Aaaaaand, in the span of 8 seconds, I was five years ahead of myself disaster planning and readying for the worst while somewhat maybe actually DESPERATELY hoping for the best.

With some gentle reminders from D, such as the fact that our child is really freakin’ sick (with a cold that I too now ferociously have), tired and not wanting any of our shit, I was able to snap back to the*now* and take a deep breath.

But I fail to comprehend how, as a parent, to live in that now. To stop and take note of exactly where I am. I wasn’t like this before I became a mom, and, now that I am, it’s hard. Really freakin’ hard. Even more so when you’ve got a FIERCE bruise on the precious flesh of your inner arm staring you right in the face.

So, I love you terribly, sweet boy, but next time? Try not to hit a spot that is so tender. Both physically and emotionally. 💚⁣ ⁣

Mental Health, Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

A year ago today.

11/30/2016 No Comments

A year ago today and ever since then…

You made me a mom. After years of uncertainty, you arrived. Squishy, small, loud and proud, you arrived and opened a door that I will never, ever close.

You taught me a meaning of love that was entirely and utterly selfless, eternal and profound to the absolute depths of my core.

You reopened within me a humour and laughter that was warm, joyous, tirelessly in love and kind. Forever my tickle and cuddle monster you will be.

You brought to my marriage a new lens to which I could view my husband/your dad. His hardened exterior crumbled just a bit more as he gave to you everything he could possibly give; compassion, tears, snuggles, worries and mirth.

You prompted a yearning for me to want to live in a better world and for me to be better myself, as I emulated my very best attempts at grace, dignity, respect and trust.

And finally, you gave to my career a new understanding, an unseen beauty, a purposeful slowing down and an opening of eyes. Not only to the image of the child, but to the image of the parent amongst a world that refuses to stand still.

So, no matter how tired, overwhelmed, anxious and unsure I have been throughout our journey thus far, I am forever and without question grateful for you.

Happy first birthday, my sweet boy. 💚⁣ ⁣