DISCLAIMER: I have not updated this blog in over a year and it needs a design overhaul. I also need to post more often. I'll add that to my growing to-do list.


It’s a tall order to write about my thoughts on the past year. 

I frequently see new moms on Facebook post hashtags like #bestbabyever #happybaby #angelbaby. I also see a lot of smiling infants, perfectly precious in their trendy hair bows and smocked dresses free of vomit and spit up from crying too hard. 

That was not my baby. I had no right or reason to post one of those hashtags, because it would have been a bold faced lie. 

My first year with Eva has been hard. Really hard. While I was pregnant, a friend told me that I was “scared sh*tless”. In her defense, I said something to her that was offensive so she wasn’t very happy with me. Wait, Carly said something offensive? It’s hard to believe, I know. I deserved it though. She was wrong at that time. I was not scared, not a bit. I was excited. I thought I was very prepared and knew exactly what I was getting myself in to. I knew it was going to be hard. I knew I would have sleepless nights, my clothes would be covered in baby bodily fluids, my showers would be few and far between, and the baby would cry when hungry, tired, and sometimes for fun. I knew all of this. I wasn’t scared…but I should have been. 

Eva arrived very close to how I had hoped. I wanted it to be dramatic. I frequently said that I wanted my water to break in the middle of a meeting at work, in the ethnic foods aisle of the grocery store, or even at home. I didn’t want to be induced because that’s no fun. I wanted Eva to catch us all off guard. Little did I know, that’s exactly what she planned to do from the moment she entered this World and I’m pretty sure she will continue doing so as her life progresses. 

When my water broke, at home (ugh I really wanted the Ethnic Foods aisle), it was at about midnight on October 11th. I was so beside myself excited and in shock that my chin was chattering and I had to sit on my hands to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. I was ready though. My bag was packed, the nursery was waiting on her, Owen was there and prepared, it was time! Fast forward 30 hours from the time I arrived in the hospital, Eva still hadn’t made her debut. Cue “I’m so sorry but we have to do an emergency C-Section, you’re spiking a fever and that could mean a possible infection or complications for the baby”. Most women would break down in tears. This wasn’t the plan! However, I was pumped! Get this kid out of me. I’m ready to meet her! And bonus points, I don’t have to wear granny panties for weeks to come since she’s coming out a different “route” if you will Let’s do this! 

Owen and I met our precious, quiet, and absolutely beautiful daughter (she looked just like Owen, thank goodness) at 6:45am on October 13th. Holding your own child in your arms for the first time is indescribable. Eva was real and in my arms because of love and because of God. Nothing else could have made this miracle happen but God, I’m certain. I kept saying to Owen “I can’t believe she’s ours. We get to take that thing home! We don’t have to give her back!” He quickly became the best daddy. Before Eva, Owen had never held a baby. For some reason, he immediately knew how to change a diaper and support her neck just right. I’m a believer in Daddy Instincts. Although, I also believe in Daddy Amnesia. He may have forgotten how to change dirty diapers now that they’re more delicious than ever. 

The first few weeks were wonderful. We were worried over every little thing with Eva but she was easy. She didn’t cry often, she took decent naps, and she was just so darn fun to stare at. She had jaundice but that was easy to remedy. I remember friends asking “Is she always this easy?” “Does she ever cry?” I’d glow and say “Yep she’s just an easy baby I guess”. Eva must have heard me say that and began planning her revenge from that moment on. 

Once Eva became about a month old everything, for me, started to unravel. She would cry. And cry. And cry. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. I was a new mom but I knew this wasn’t right. Owen was at work all day so when we would talk throughout the day he’d tell me this is normal. She’s a baby. Babies cry. However, he wasn’t enduring what I was enduring. She was so unhappy. I was positive she hated life and wanted to crawl back inside. There came a point where I’d cry harder than she would. It was a competition. I totally won, you little baby. 

Intermission: Just typing this about my first few months with Eva makes my stomach sick. 

Eva was miserable for so long and so was I. Poor Owen would come home from work to a wife filled with anxiety worse than most humans will ever experience and a baby who lost her mind if you stopped swaying her while walking from room to room. The one positive during this time is that my baby weight fell right off due to my stress. It’s always nice to find the positives right? Okay back to the negatives… Owen and I would fight, a lot. I would fight with everyone though. No one understood what I was going through. Owen watched as I changed Eva’s diaper one night and kindly said to me “you missed a little right there” and I went NUCLEAR on him. I didn’t miss it! I did a great job! Stop picking on me! You’re not here with me all day! You don’t get to tell me how to change a diaper! You do it then!  Y’all… I was a nut job. I wasn’t myself.



One of the few times during the day that Eva would not be crying was when she was eating but that time quickly became riddled with screams and tears. WHAT WAS HAPPENING?! First, the pediatrician thought it was reflux. No problem, she will take Zantac. That didn’t help much. I would post on Facebook about how this was so difficult. Caring moms would offer their advice. I hated all of it. Stop judging me, I would think. Stop thinking you know how to fix my baby when I can’t even fix her. Eventually our pediatrician recommended and referred us to a Pediatric Gastroenterologist. I have never been more excited and anxious for a doctor appointment. It took weeks to get in with a GI doctor but when Eva was about 3.5 months that day finally came. I had prayed that the GI Doctor would solve all of our problems. And she did, well, she solved the worst of our problems. Eva had a milk allergy. She only had to quickly look at Eva to know that was what was going on. Apparently when a baby is allergic to dairy, it gets wrinkles under it’s eyes. That’s a tell tale sign. Why didn’t I notice the wrinkles?! Other symptoms include constant spit up and vomit (check), mucus in bowel movements (check), constant crying especially while eating and after eating (triple check), and a horrible diaper rash and/or yeast infection (checky check). 

Eva quickly started Neocate formula. It’s an amino acid based formula and super expensive and can only be ordered online. I didn’t even care. We would spend about $380 on formula every 3 weeks. I imagine this is the amount of money moms of twins spend on formula. I didn’t have twins though. Eva is already so expensive and high maintenance. She get it from her momma. Neocate helped within just a few weeks. It was a night and day difference. Literally. She would be happy during the day and actually slept at night without screaming. Thank you Neocate, enjoy our money! 

While we were getting Eva’s little tummy and digestive system on the mend, we were simultaneously dealing with never ending double ear infections. These started at 3 months. As soon as she would end a round of antibiotics, her ears would become infected again within days. Our baby never slept through the night. Not once since she was born. These days doctors apparently try their best to steer away from tubes to remedy ear infections. Tubes are a last resort. Every time I’d go back to the pediatrician’s office I’d wish for those beautiful words to come out of her mouth “I’m going to refer you to an ENT.” They never did until Eva’s 7th double ear infections. At that point, I think the doctor could see it in my face that I was done putting my child on medicine constantly, and done with seeing Eva continue to go through discomfort. Eva received her beautiful tiny plastic tubes at 7 months of age. That was a stressful day but a beautiful day! For some babies, they don’t help, for some they fall out, for us, they’ve been wonderful. Thank you Lawd! 

From 8 months forward, we’ve had a #happybaby, #bestbabyever, and a #angelbaby. She’s still a #divababy but I don’t foresee that ever changing, and I kind of love it about her. 

Reflecting back, year one has been so incredibly hard. There have been so many tears, yelling, and anxiety riddled break downs. But there have also been so many smiles, so many laughs and giggles, so much happiness and excitement. Being a new mom is hard. If you’re pregnant right now and reading this, know that. It’s hard. But if you get a difficult baby like myself, know it’ll get better and know you’re not alone. There are countless (SO many) moms who pretend to have the perfect baby, best daddy for their baby ever, best clothes, best all-natural products, best breast feeding boobs (because that’s a thing ya know), and best life imaginable. Don’t believe them. They cry too. Their baby has melt downs. Their baby poops all over their favorite white blouse. Their baby has infant acne and cradle cap that they hide with blinding large bows. When they are folding their perfect laundry, their perfect baby has fallen off the bed (this happens more than you know – but not to my baby, we’re perfect). 

I can’t put into words or describe the feeling you experience when your baby hits a new milestone or just looks at you and genuinely smiles because she knows you’re her mommy and you know, in that smile, that she loves you too. 

Although this has been an extremely challenging year, it’s been the best year because of that 17 pounds of human that Owen and I made together. She’s everything I’ve prayed for and better. She’s independent yet needs attention at all times (again, she get it from her momma), she’s silly and tough, determined and animated. Everything about that little girl is perfect. She’s going to have the biggest personality as she continues to grow older and develop. She’s going to give Owen and I a lot to worry about but so much more to be proud of. She’s the type of person who will change the World and move mountains. Is it weird for me to be saying that about an almost one year old? Yep. But I’m certain of it. Plus, those Kink crystal blue eyes will get her anything and everywhere she wants.  
I’m so proud to call her mine and I hope one day she will say the same about me, her mommy. I feel like I’ve done a lot of things wrong in the first year, or there are many things I could have done better. My mother-in-law or sister-in-law brought up a great point when I told them that. They said “There’s a reason they can’t remember the first year of their life. They can’t hold it against you.” Perfectly said. God knew what he was doing when he made humans.

To Eva directly (because she can read, like I said, she’s perfect),
You are my whole World. It’s true when they say you will never know the love a mother has for a child until you have one of your own. You are a spitting image of your father. I love that so much not only because it means you are absolutely gorgeous but because I love your daddy. Whenever I look at you, I see him, and that fills my heart right up to the brim. Your smile is infectious. Your personality is bold and kind. I am so looking forward to watching you grow and learn. And each time you succeed, I can’t wait to be right there next to you telling you “I told you, you could do it, you can do anything”. You are my greatest achievement and will continue to be, unless we have another child, then you both will be. But that’s not likely. I love you more than anything ever. I would say that to you when I was pregnant with you and I’ve meant it since the day I knew you had a heartbeat. I couldn’t see past me, until I saw your face, sweet Eva Grace.

Keep growing and learning, my sweet little diva. You are the biggest blessing. Your birthday is truly the best day of my life. 

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