Asking for Help

Asking for help is hard.
I will be the first to admit I don't do it enough and don't do it often. I am definitely one of those do it yourself, superwomen wannabe, just get er done kind of gals.
But why is it so gosh dang hard to just ask for help?!

This new journey that our family has embarked on has been difficult. It is hard to care for a special needs child. Its hard to administer so many medications into such a sweet little baby. Its hard to just leave the house when you have to remember you have monitors that follow you. And its hard emotionally. Its hard to think about the future and whats to be. Its hard to worry 24/7 about that cough, sneeze, twitch, and movement.

It has been an exhausting task trying to follow a very active three year old around the house with a 24 pound baby and and IV pole in tow. So... I asked for help. I asked for help not just for Brecken and our family, but quite frankly for myself. For me.

This week was the first week that Brecken has had his own private nurses come to the house to help take care of him. It was the first week where I was able to do the dishes, have folded clean laundry done, and I actually showered! I was able to do all of this while Brecken was in the good care of a nurse who is trained to take care of a special needs child.

And although it's help, its obviously something that will take time to get used to. Getting used to sharing your home with someone all day. And for sure being able to trust these people with your baby so that you are able to leave the house for periods of time. (Maybe to just run across the street to get milk for starters).

But I asked for help for me. To allow me time for proper self care. Time to focus on myself. Time to allow me to do things during the day that will allow for family time in the evening. Allow me to focus more attention and time with Easton. Because I have learned one thing. I need to take care of myself in order to take care of my babies and my family. To allow me to feel just a little bit less stressed so I can enjoy these days with my family that much more. To allow me to be present.

I asked for help for me but really for my family.
It was difficult but I think it is going to be worth it.

You Need A Small Person

My almost three year old, Easton, has a favorite phrase these days. He always says ...
"Mommy you always need a small person to help you."

You need a small person to help you with the dishes, to shovel, to cook and clean. You need a small person to tell you how to drive and do 'scissoring on paper'. You need a small person to play 'super hero gotcha and trap' (his new made up games). You need a small person to get medications ready, make formula, and push the buttons on the machines. And you for sure need a small person to follow you around and tell you if you are doing everything correct or not.

Its easy to make excuses and say no. Its easy to tell him to just go and do something else. Its easy to just do easy.  But he just might be right. I do need a small person to help me.  I need these two small people to help me just like these small people need me.

After finding out Easton is free of the genetic mutation that both my husband, Daryl, and I carry, and that Brecken was found positive to have. I need this small person more than ever.

I need him to help me wash the dishes, I need him to help fold laundry. I need him to make formula for his little brothers feeding tube, push the button for the nebulizer, to help put a sticker on Brecken's toe to monitor his oxygen. I need him next to me as I draw up 10 different medications to administer to my thirteen month old sweet baby boy three times a day. Because I need a small person to help me feel like there is someone helping me along saying "you got this."

Your doing ok. You will be ok. Its going to be ok mommy. I will help you.
Because we all know one thing.... what three year old is ever wrong. :)

My Story of Momming Strong

And here it goes. A place to share MY story.  My crazy, wild, emotional story of becoming a Mommy. And all the "Momming" that comes with it.
I would have to say that being a Mom has always been my number one goal in my life. I had dreams as a little girl of having a huge family. Lots and Lots and Lots of babies. 

First I became a registered nurse. Then I became a wife. Then finally a MOM.
On April 22, 2015 we welcomed our first sweet, handsome, wonderful little baby boy into this world. Then 22 months later on March 4, 2017 we added a second sweet, handsome, wonderful little baby boy to our family. And life was great. I was a mom of boys! I was ready for the dirt and the sports and wrestling. I was ready for the trucks and cars. I was ready to get a really nice pair of running shoes to chase these little boys around for years to come. I was ready to add more beautiful babies to our family.

But what I wasn't ready for was what happened December 28th, 2017. The night that being a Mom put on a whole new meaning. The night when parts of mommyhood were stripped of me. That night and days to come when you find strength and courage you never knew existed. 

Welcome to my journey. The ups and downs, the emotions, the laughs, the tears, the happiness, frustrations and fears, sadness and anger, courage and strength, and of course the joys and smiles. 

My story of 'Momming Strong'.