Decker’s Birth Story
Before I dig into this, I want to mention a few things. First, I don’t love the culture surrounding labor and delivery that makes a lot of moms choose to share their stories in a way that incites a fear around birthing. My opinion is that a lot of us women share birth stories like they’re battles, and by doing that, we hope it makes us look strong and like we’ve overcome some unbeatable foe. I think it leads to a lot of fear and anxiety for first time moms, and puts really negative energy around birthing. I hope we can get to a place where we’re viewing our births as a series of small miracles, versus a serious of unfortunate events. That being said, here, we’ll go over the series of unfortunate events leading up to (and following) the small miracle of Decker’s birth.
I also want to say, that now that I’m on the other side of this, I am changing a lot in the way I’m approaching my second birth. Second, I hope this story encourages you to advocate for yourself. Don’t be embarrassed about looking silly or demanding. You know your body, and it’s okay to demand a higher level of care. Don’t be dismissed if you believe something’s off.
Okay, let’s dive in.
So, how far should I go back? That’s the question with all good birth stories. But I think I’ll start at the time when I knew shit was getting real.
The Giant Booger aka the Mucus Plug
I think I lost my mucus plug at 36 weeks and I remember being like WTF is this giant booger in my undies?! I texted my doula and she explained that it was what kept your cervix sealed up and that it could regenerate and I shouldn’t worry…
“Could mean baby’s coming soon, or not for awhile.”
(Which isn’t that everyone’s favorite thing to say - and the least helpful thing to hear? Am I right?)...
I was a little anxious, though I would never let that show, because my doula had warned me (when I initially partnered up with her) that she would be on a mission trip to Haiti from week 37 of my pregnancy until I was about 38.5 weeks. So I was hoping baby would stay put until she was back stateside.
Fast forward to the following week…
The “Cool” Wife
We find out one of our best friends is playing in the NFL playoffs as a member of the Arizona Cardinals and hubby looks sooo crushed that he can’t attend. So, being the cool wife I think I am, I say
“Look, take Sara (our friend’s wife), leave Bronson (their 2.5 year old son) with me, and go to Arizona. I know when we conceived this baby and she probably won’t come until closer to 40-41 weeks I guarantee it! Go, have fun, because it’ll be the last fun you can have for awhile.”
I was only 37 weeks, and they would only be gone for two days and I didn’t feel the way everyone describes late pregnancy - I wasn’t waddling, I didn’t feel pressure, I was sleeping fine, I was comfortable, I still had energy, I was good.
So I thought...
The Gush
So, at 37 weeks, while my sweet husband was in Arizona (two flights away from me because there’s no direct flights between our city and AZ), and I’m watching someone else’s kid, and my doula is in Haiti, and I’m at the gym mid-plank.... I feel a gush.
This is what I get for trying to be a cool wife. But, of course, being the non-alarmist I think I am, I try to dismiss it. Even though the fluid went all the way through my yoga pants and ended my workout, I tried to tell myself that maybe I just peed (which I had never done at all during my pregnancy but, again, I heard it happens).
Wiser Women than I
I texted my doula in Haiti about what happened that morning at the gym and she says,
“Okay, I’m with a bunch of midwives here and we all agree: We think it’s your water based on your description. You can wait it out, knowing your husband isn’t there, but if contractions don’t start up here soon, you’ll need to go to Labor & Delivery (L&D) and get swabbed. You can give it until tomorrow morning if you want, but the rule to go by is 24 hours.”
Keep in mind: I have someone else’s child staying at my home (sleeping in a Pack N Play in my room) and it’s a Saturday – so I know my doctors aren’t just hanging out at the hospital or at their office. I tell myself, “Okay, let’s just wait a bit and see if I feel anything that resembles what people are describing as “period cramps” (which I’ve never had before), then I’ll make a game-time decision.”
All the Fun
The Cardinals win that playoff game in overtime and Kyle has ALL THE FUN. The next morning, a Sunday, Kyle & Sara are on the long travel day back home. I was still leaking a bit so I decided to call my OB’s office’s after-hours line and they sent me to L&D for a swab.
I drop my sweet little buddy Bronson off at a friend’s house so I can run to L&D and get swabbed, but because I can’t call my husband as he’s in the air, I call Sara’s husband Jason (who’s recovering from his win the night before) to tell him where I’m headed and ask him to tell our travelers what’s going on when they land in case I can’t get to my phone. I head to L&D, nervous AF and also trying to keep myself calm because “it could be nothing.”
The Morse Code Nurse
Here’s where it gets weird and frustrating (in hindsight).
I check into L&D and I’m immediately hooked up to monitors – which showed the baby’s heart rate and my contractions. The nurse says,
“That’s a contraction, do you feel that?”
And I reply,
“That? Oh really? Yeah I’ve been having that feeling, didn’t realize that’s what that was.”
She sees me leaking and tests the fluid with what looks like a little strip of litmus paper. She explains it will change to another color if the leakage is amniotic fluid. She seems to not like what she sees on the first one and does it a couple more times. She says,
“I’m watching it leak out, it’s not urine, and these swabs are coming up negative… but they can be wrong. I’m going to call the on call doctor from your practice and they’re going to want to come in to check for ferning.”
(Cut to me, staring blindly at her, no idea what the hell she’s talking about.)
She explains,
“Basically the doctor will come in, put the fluids under a microscope, and if it looks like a fern plant, then it’s your water and we need to induce you.”
(Cut to me, knowing my husband is still 6-8 hours away from being at my side, knowing I wanted “a natural birth unless I have to be induced with Pitocin, then I’ll be open to an epidural,” with my doula in Haiti, and now I’m panicking.)
Here’s what I saw happen next: Nurse comes back in the room. Her body language has changed. She seems a little frustrated. She says,
“Well, the on call doctor said if I’m testing the fluid and it’s negative, I should just discharge you.”
Ya’ll. When I tell you this woman looked like Sergeant Brody from Homeland trying to signal me Morse code with her eyes, I am not lying. She says, with so much intention that I feel like an idiot for not advocating for myself further here:
“If it keeps happening, even if it’s an hour from now, COME BACK. Don’t be embarrassed or think it’s a false alarm, JUST COME BACK.”
((Cut to me, practically throwing on my panties to GTFO of there because I was embarrassed. I had just dropped a kid who was under my care off at a friend’s house, worried my sweet doula while she’s tending to women in another country, freaked out my friend who was on a high from celebrating a huge win, and wasted 2 hours of my Sunday just cause I peed myself.))
So I practically run outta there. Hubby gets home later that night, the kid is back with his family, and I’m licking my pride wounds of a false alarm.
Business as Usual, but with Back Labor
Throughout the next three days, I go to work as usual. I have more wet underwear, but when I called my OB’s office they say,
“Unless it’s enough fluid to leak through a pad, it’s not your water.”
I shrug and move on with my life. I walk the stairs at work over breaks. I go to meetings, but have this come-and-go desire to stand up in the middle of them because of back pain and general discomfort. I can’t get home soon enough every day and then basically live in the bath on and off until bedtime. It was the only thing that helped the waves of low back pain I was having.
“We’re Having a Baby Today”
That Thursday (6 days after the planking “pee” incident, 5 days after I was sent home from L&D without a fern test), I go to my 38 week appointment. I’m excited to get my cervix checked – I’m curious to see how close I am to meeting my baby.
After I put my legs up, the OB dives in. I’m not sure the exact order of these words but here were the phrases that followed:
“You’re 1cm. 60% effaced”
“Your waters, I think they’re gone...”
“… maybe high leak”
“I’m touching your baby’s head, I can feel her hair.”
“I’m going to check for ferning.”
“Yes, it’s amniotic fluid”
“She’s okay right now, she’s not in distress...”
“Her head probably plugged up your cervix and preserved some fluid.”
“We need to induce you.”
And lastly, with a smile on her face, God bless her,
“We’re gonna have a baby today.”
((Cut to me instantly tearing up, scared, excited, confused, angry, panicked.))
((Cut to Kyle, confused, panic-stricken - as I don’t cry very often and when I do... he worries and frets.))
The Pre-Admission Binge
Thankfully, this appointment took place on hospital grounds so all we had to do was walk to the next building over to get admitted. On the walk over, I INHALED a protein bar, a banana, apple juice and - with a full mouth - told Kyle to call my mom, his mom and our siblings. He moved quickly and by the time we were ushered into a room, we’d called the necessary people and they were working on flights from California and Texas and neighbors were on call for our dogs. And I had consumed enough calories and fluids to make me feel like I had enough fuel to labor with strength.
The Nurse Who Almost Met her Maker
In our birthing suite, one of the first nurses walks in the room, looks at my chart and says,
“Oh I bet you’re thrilled to have this baby early so you don’t get to 200lbs!! You’re just shy of it, so yay for an early delivery!”
Or something along those lines. Y’all, if looks could kill.
A couple of other (better) nurses come in, and I say,
“I know you have to start the antibiotics for the Group B Strep, but do you mind if we hold off on the Pitocin and I try the breast pump and nipple stimulation first?”
I can’t remember if it was my nurse or a doctor but I do remember feeling like the person kind of laughed and said,
“I’ll let you get started with the pump while we get the Pitocin.”
The pump got me from 1 to 2 by the time she got back with the drugs so I was hopeful they’d just let me do that... but nope.
My doula’s emergency “back-up doula” got there at some point around the time they started me on Pitocin at around 12:30-1pm. They explained that protocol was to increase the dosage every 30min, to which I replied,
“Can we just try to keep it on as low as possible without raising it and just see how my body reacts? It seemed to be doing okay on just the pump alone so maybe let’s avoid upping it if we don’t have to? I would still like to try to do this thing with as close to natural contractions as possible, and hopefully avoid the epidural…”
Again, with the smug smile that, to me, felt like “Sure, toots, but you’re gonna be begging for that epidural either way.”
Productive Contractions
The nurse explained that pretty much the only “productive contractions were the painful ones,” so if I wasn’t in pain, they likely weren’t productive (i.e. dilating me). So then, I just waited for pain. I stood, I rocked, I held on the Kyle’s neck as I swayed and waited.
Sometime after that conversation about keeping the Pitocin low, my back-up doula leans over and says,
“They’ve upped it four times since you spoke to the nurse.”
I was frustrated and confused as to why that was done, in my opinion pretty stealthily, without them mentioning to me that’s what they were doing.
The Fear Factor
At around 3:15, I was feeling pain, but I was managing it with the support of my guy and my friend Sara in the room timing my contractions. I was swaying through it. I was doing okay.
Then I wasn’t.
The contractions started running right into each other with no pauses and Decker wasn’t getting a break inside of me either. I remember something about them wanting to back off the Pitocin and that the constant contractions were getting to be too stressful on the baby. My inner monologue went,
“I told you, you assholes, we didn’t need that much Pitocin, my body was doing its job and you guys just love your protocol so much you don’t care.”
But, obviously, they’re medical professionals and I’m not, so I did my best to just respect what they were saying and their course of action. I asked for them to check me, and while I waited, I told my doula and Kyle,
“If it’s 8cm, I’ll skip the epidural, but if it’s less, I’ll order the epidural.”
They checked me at that point and I was 7cm. I was secretly relieved that I had given that speech because I was ready for a break in the barrage of contractions.
I looked at my nurse and said,
“Do you think it’ll be soon? Or will it be more pain for a lot longer?”
She replied,
“It could be 20 more minutes, but it could be 10 more hours.”
I asked,
“Well, could you tell me which one it’s gonna be? Because I can do 20 minutes, but 10 hours is a no-go…”
She shook her head, knowing I was joking, and the epidural was ordered.
An Epidural: The Sweet Juice of the Gods
I got my epidural during a 3.5min brutal, non-wavering Pitocin contraction at about 5:00pm. It only took to one side, but I savored that feeling on one side as they rolled me to the other side hoping it would take over there as well. It didn’t, so they gave me more of that Magic Juice.
Then, it took all over and I was all peace and butterflies and beauty. I was so comfortable I could have slept but I was too busy texting, sending video messages, and calling people. I felt like I was high with contentment, I couldn’t believe this was labor. It was straight-up lovely. I was smiling, laughing, joking, and in pre-baby bliss.
The Shirtless Wonder in the Room
I asked my sexy husband to take off his shirt. Maybe because I was feeling flirty and affectionate, but also because, in case something happened, I wanted our baby to go immediately to someone’s skin and if it couldn’t be me, I wanted it to be him. I kept cracking jokes to the nurses that I knew shift change was coming and if I made my husband strip, would they stay a bit longer to help me usher this child into the world?
The epidural was like tequila for me: It made me think I was hilarious. But, they stayed past shift change, so who’s laughing now?
Practice Pushes and Poop
They kept coming in and checking me sporadically and at 6:15pm they eventually said,
“Okay, let’s do a few practice pushes!”
Followed by,
“Okay okay okay, that’s enough, that’s good, we’re gonna get the doctor.”
Here’s something no one told me: Your doctor isn’t there the whole time. They’re not even there for a lot of it. Or most of it. Or any of it really. The nurses are your team, your people, and your support. Unless you’re like me and have a doula and a supportive birth partner, there will be times when you could be alone while you’re in labor. The nurses have to check on other patients, etc. Your doctor will only really come in if something’s wrong or you’re at 10cm. This is one of the biggest reasons I believe in hiring a doula and/or having a committed birth partner for labor and delivery.
Not sure when shift change was, but of course the Doc that came in to deliver me was the on call doctor from that previous Sunday - the one who didn’t believe it was necessary to come in to check for ferning.
I was actively trying to keep that frustration out of my mind as I started pushing again, and then I asked my friend Sara to leave the room “because I felt like I was gonna fart” and didn’t want her in there.
Well, with the next push I asked the nurse,
“Umm did I just poop or something?”
She just said,
“Don’t worry, we covered it up...” then I horrifyingly yelped and exclaimed,
“GET IT OUT OF HERE!”
Kyle laughed. She did as I requested.
The Only Time It Feels Good to Hear You Have a “Very Elastic” Vagina
Doc said,
“You have very nice elasticity.”
I beamed proudly and winked at Kyle as I replied,
“Thank you, we worked really diligently on our perineal massage.”
She gazed into my vagina again, saying:
“Your pushes are strong, I’m seeing her head come down then she gets sucked back up, I think she’s sunny side up.”
((Cut to me, looking confused, not understanding what that means.))
Baby’s like my Eggies: Sunny Side Up
At the time, I didn’t know what “sunny side up” meant. But apparently when your baby’s facing your belly instead of your back, also called “OP” or “occiput posterior fetal positioning,” it makes delivery a little trickier.
The doctor requests the ultrasound machine, while someone explains to me that if the baby is facing “up” in the OP position, the doctor will do a manual manipulation to rotate her.
((Cut to me, doing the math on what a manual manipulation is.))
((Cut me, as I realize this means she would have to stick her hand inside of my already verryyyy full vagina to rotate Decker)).
((Cut to Kyle, after they confirm OP positioning and the doctor reaches inside of me to twist the baby.))
I looked up at Kyle, holding his hand and expecting to feel pain while the doctor rotates Decker. Due to the MAGICAL epidural, I felt nothing but I will never forget the look in my husband’s eyes - so wide with awe - and trying so hard to hide his terror - as he leans in to whisper to me:
“You should be so happy that she has very tiny hands.”
I laughed.
Decker was out on the next set of pushing, born at 7:27pm.
She had a limp arm and wasn’t crying. They took her immediately to the little baby station in the room and checked her out and got her suctioned, breathing, and crying. She grabbed ahold of Kyle’s finger and he started crying.
They handed her to me. I couldn’t believe she was here, on the outside. She was a squishy little chunk at 8lbs and 19.5 inches long. Kyle immediately started fretting over her, worried that she was clawing at her own face as she hunted down the scent of my milk.
I remember at some point, soon after basking in those fresh baby feelings, asking,
“So when do I do the placenta birth thing?”
They replied,
“Oh you already did that, and you didn’t really tear – just a little ‘road rash’ that would heal on it’s own but we’re going to throw one stitch in so it heals quicker.”
I also learned that apparently I had a catheter that I didn’t know about. I’d say that epidural did me a solid because I simply missed so many of the moments that were really worrying me leading up to the birth.
My Milkshake
We started breastfeeding immediately and I remember thinking it felt like a shock of pain when she first latched, and I’d just go “Owe owe owe owe” in my mind. It got better, or I developed a learned helplessness. But still, I feel like it’s important that women hear that it kinda fucking hurts at first. Eventually, though, I settled in and it became an oxytocin rush of love and affection.
I found out shortly after that at some point in her exit, Decker broke her collarbone. She was badly jaundiced and we remained in the hospital for five days as we worked overtime to kick the bilirubin and learn how to care for our little bird’s broken wing.
I was really stubborn and refused to use formula, so after every feeding I would pump and give Decker even more colostrum/milk in a medicine dropper. After days of crying while she lay in her little baby tanning bed, cheering on every poop, knowing it meant the bili was leaving her body, we were allowed to go home.
Despite all this, I will say it was one of the two greatest days of my life and I can’t wait to do it again.
What to Pack in Hospital Bags for Mom, Dad, Baby (and Big Sibling)
Decker arrived earlier than expected, and the fact that I’m a neurotic planner paid off. That being said, I’ve lost a bit of my mucus plug already on this pregnancy, and definitely feel “more pregnant” than I am, so Type A me wants to get my hospital bags packed.
With Decker, I had to spend five days in the hospital due to her jaundice. So I’m glad that I was over-prepared with everything I might need. This go around, I’ve switched to a more “natural-birth friendly” practice, and their normal protocol is to – for lack of a better phrase – try to “kick you out” after 24 hours. That being said, our past jaundice experience has me packing for an extended stay (just in case).
This list has been updated over the years and reinvented based on my past experiences and new recommendations from friends. Thank you to my sweet friend Caitlin for giving me the first version of this list four years ago, your guidance in motherhood – especially in those early days – is so appreciated.
Okay, let’s get to it:
MAMA’S GEAR:
o Stylish Mom Bag
I’m obsessed with this waterproof bag by CaraaSport. I got it in the nude color and I can’t wait to use it.
o Important Documents
Assuming you’ll have your purse or wallet, but make sure you had your ID, insurance card(s), and a printed copy of your birth plan. Your kid will laugh at your birth plan and come anyway they damn well please.
o Post-Partum Undies (like period undies in that you shouldn’t give a shit what happens to them, but just a lot bigger, softer, and with more coverage)
3 pairs of super cozy, dark-colored, full butt underwear – size up. I loved the Super Soft seamless DKNY ones. If you’re at the hospital longer than 48 hours then you might want more, but definitely have some ready for when you get back home. You’ll want out of the mesh diapers and into something more comfortable to make you feel like you a real human again. I ordered a size up cause you still have a 6 months preggo belly and a fat ass after you deliver. And I recommend black because… well, because blood.
o Eye mask and/or earplugs
If you’re like me and need it pitch black and quiet to sleep. Use these things for a daytime nap after you deliver and hubby/nurses/family/friends/partner has the baby and you need some shut-eye.
o 2 Pillows and 1 Cozy Blanket
You can keep these in the car until after delivery. If you’re planning on getting an epidural, it’s nice to have these with you in the room because you may want to take a nice nap until you’re 10cm dilated. After delivery you can get a little cold and shaky from the meds.
o 2 Bath Towels
I loved having my own comfy towel for my first shower after labor. The hospital towels were really small and not very soft. Take care of you, girl. A human being just exited you.
o Button-Up Jammies
Skip the floral robe, go for dark pajamas with button down shirt – the buttons make it easier for nursing and there’s a possibility these might get ruined so keep that in mind - getting dark colors won’t show blood. I like these babies from Target.
o 2 Nursing Bras
They all kinda suck, find the ones that suck the least for your body and breasts and try to find them on the cheap. I didn’t hate these ones from Targetin the first few days when your milk comes in and your boobs are huge and sore and unmanageable and you’re icing them and think you have a tumor. I found more subtle and attractive ones as my nursing career went on. I nursed Decker for 13 months, so I definitely switched to regular bras at some point, but stuck with bras without underwire for the most part.
ICE ICE BABY: When the milk comes in.
o 1 Hands-free Pumping Bra
In case you have to help your milk come in quicker or you want/need to induce labor naturally. I liked this one. I found a strapless, Velcro pumping bra to be much more life-friendly than other options. (Note that you can skip a pumping bra completely if you go with the Willow Breast Pump). Decker had jaundice and the doctors were pushing formula, but I was able to pump enough in the hospital to give only breastmilk in droppers so we never ended up using formula. I was stubborn but it was important to me. I would nurse her then give additional milk from my pumping sessions with a medicine dropper provided by the hospital. It would have been nice to have a pumping bra packed already - as I had to send a family member home to bring one. You don’t need to bring a pump, as the hospital will have a nice, strong one to let you use.
o Nursing pads
Some mamas may not need these until after you’re home from the hospital but if you’re having a C-section (or baby has jaundice or other complications) then you may still be at the hospital when your milk comes in. **Also, a note on nursing pads: Either use disposable nursing pads and change after every feeding, or get enough of the reusable ones to change them after every feeding (and get enough for a couple days). When you wash the reusable ones, use a little bit of distilled white vinegar in the wash to help kill the yeast that can cause thrush. With my first, I didn’t know anything about thrush and I would just shove my wet nipple back in my nursing bra with reusable pads that were still moist, and I got thrush. It SUCKED and took forever to get rid of and made breastfeeding painful for longer than necessary.
o Nursing Pillow or Boppy? Nahhhh
Nix the nursing pillow and use your two pillows from home to arrange around you for nursing. Your tummy will still be too big for a nursing pillow, but you will definitely want one for when you get back home. I love this one.
Squeeze a little breast milk on your nipples after feeding, then let nips air-dry. After they’re dry, apply Nipple Butter before putting on CLEAN, DRY nursing pads, then your bra. These little extra steps can save you from thrush. I’m also bringing these Silver nipple covers this time – as I’m hearing they work wonders in those early days!
o 3-4 Pairs of Non-Skid Socks
Especially if you plan on an epidural. In my experience, they’ll make you wear their ugly ones if you don’t have you own. They don’t want you to fall when you’re “Bambi on Ice” after the nerve blocker!
o Slippers
So you can shuffle your bloody vagina to the bathroom to pee and try to poop (which is among the scariest post-partum moments). I remember thinking “If I push, everything is gonna fall out. Maybe if I just sit here, it’ll find a way out on its own.”
o Flip flops
For the shower. Mama don’t have time for athlete’s foot.
o Chapstick or lip balm
Your lips can get dry once you’re forbidden from drinking water after being admitted. But that never happened to me, because I snuck a protein bar and liquids almost the entire 6 hours I was in labor. I would never run a marathon without water and fuel (well, I’d probably never run a marathon anyway), so why would I give birth on an empty tank and dehydrated body? For more information on why I feel safe making this call, despite overwhelming pressure from hospitals to avoid food and drinks, I read this book.
o Apple Juice
Kyle snuck some in a metal canister and would give me tiny sips when the nurses weren’t in the room. Since your uterus is a muscle and muscles need fuel to be work efficiently, it makes sense that you’d labor longer if your body is starved of calories. I did two rounds of pushing before she was born and I think it’s because I had the calories and energy to do so efficiently. Or maybe my vagina is big. Who knows? BUT, in my vagina’s defense, Decker did break her collarbone on the way out. After this, I renamed my vagina “Breaker of Bones,” – it’s her Game of Thrones name.
o Toiletries
A travel kit including face wash, moisturizer, lotion, body wash, dry shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, deodorant, lotion, hair ties, hair clips, makeup remover wipes, whatever makeup you think you’ll use. Contacts, contact solution, or eyeglasses if you wear them.
o Small Bills and Loose Change
For the vending machines. Or to tip your hot husband for taking his shirt off in the middle of labor… you know, in case there was an emergency and the baby needed immediate skin-to-skin and also, for me. I used his hot topless body to encourage my favorite nurses to stay with me despite the shift change 30 minutes prior to Decker’s arrival. Worked like a charm, not a single one of them left. Who can resist muscular man-titties?
o Snacks
Lots of snacks, hospital food sucks.
o 10ft. Long Phone charger
There will be texts, so many texts. Updating family, friends, coworkers, etc. And the hospital room plugs can be pretty far away. The big boy extension on the charger will allow you a little wiggle room, and I liked having my phone close by to time nursing sessions. In this same vein, bring a charging bank.
o Portable/Bluetooth Speaker
Not necessary but I loved having music to listen to.
o Going Home OOTD (Outfit of the Day)
Maxi dress works great unless you’re giving birth in the winter.
o Nursing Cover
If you plan on having visitors that you don’t want to see your breasts. Honestly, though, it’s all very overwhelming in the beginning and the nursing cover was just another thing I didn’t want to deal with. So I just kicked whomever I wasn’t comfortable with out of the room when I nursed.
o Food Delivery Options
DoorDash, Seamless, etc. But also, close friends and family can do the trick, too. A nice rule I made was to make everyone that visits in the hospital bring one thing you couldn’t have while pregnant: wine, sushi, deli sandwich, oysters, steak tartare, stinky cheeses, etc. It worked out great, and I dined like a Queen those 5 days in the hospital. Also, especially if you had an epidural or pain meds like opiates, try to avoid foods that will constipate you. Stick with fibrous foods so you’re not hating yourself on that first post-partum poop attempt.
o Booty cushion by FridaMom
For the ride home, when you’re too afraid to LOOK at your vagina, let alone sit directly on it.
DAD’S GEAR
o A “Cool Dad” Bag
I went with this one for Kyle.
o Pillow and Blanket from Home
Leave these items in your trunk. If you really want to do it up, come prepared with a twin size blow up mattress to stick on uncomfortable pull out couch or on floor. If dad chooses not to bring comfortable bedding options for himself, be fully prepared to give your hospital bed up to an exhausted baby daddy who literally CANNOT keep their eyes open while your newborn adrenaline has you awake for 24+ hours straight.
o A Change of Clothes
Basketball shorts, an extra tee, and some fresh undies. Last thing you want after labor is a man who stinks like stress-sweat just from watching YOU do something that intense.
o Deodorant
See previous bullet.
o Baseball hat
They won’t look in a mirror once after the baby is born, but doesn’t mean you should have to look at that mop of chaos on his head.
o Phone charger
Or he’ll steal yours. He’s likely the one sending the updates as your dilating and ushering a soul from the heavens to earth… so the least he can do is have a full charge.
o Toothbrush
No amount of oxytocin can make you ignore stanky breath in your face as your pushing.
o Entertainment
He’ll be bored of hearing your birth story over and over when you have visitors. So make sure he loves Instagram or has a book or movies in his bag.
BABY’S GEAR
o Diaper bag
I got this one, which has a cooler compartment, lots of zippy pockets, optional backpack straps (necessary when your hands are full) and a stroller attachment option.
o Baby Book
If you want to get baby’s footprints stamped in it. This go around, we got this one.
o Swaddle Blanket
The hospital provides them, but you may want to use your own because the ones they use in the hospital are REALLY HARD TO WORK. I recommend velcro swaddles or the Miracle Swaddle. **If you have dogs or pets, take home the initial receiving blanket (or have the friends or family members that are watching your pets do it). The pets can sniff the newborn’s scent so when they come home, they’re already familiarized with it.
o Coming home outfit (2)
You’ll want to save these so make it worth it.
o 5 Onesies (3 newborn, 2 preemie)
I liked the kimono or magnet style onesie because it was easier to get on her head, a gown works great too (easy for diaper changes – definitely recommend these in the early days at home for bedtime).
o Hats/bows
Their heads are wonky AF when they’re born, so it’s nice to be able to cover up some of that chaos.
o Scratch Mittens or Nail Clippers
We used the Zoli buzz b nail trimmer. They are born with the longest, sharpest nails! They’ll scratch all over their face if you don’t trim them.
o 2-3 pairs of Socks
o Car seat
Make sure you install this in your car ahead of time and get familiar with putting a doll in and out. It feels VERY high stakes when you’re doing it for the first time with a nurse watching over your shoulder to make sure you’re using it right. **Helpful hint to new moms, release the tautness of the straps when you get the baby in and out – it makes it SO much easier than trying to sidle their shoulders around and through tight straps. Also, make sure baby’s chest clip is level with their armpits.
BIG SIBLING GEAR
We wanted Decker to feel included and special as she arrives to meet her sibling for the first time, so we got her a gift “from” her new baby sibling. Here are a few things we got Decker, from “her baby”:
o Embroidered Tote by Land’s End
To put all the prezzies in.
Cute little customized book with her name on it, describing her new role as a big sister.
o It’s A _____!! Sign
We want Decker to be the one to tell everyone what her new sibling is – a baby brother or a baby sister!
o Baby Care Items
A few newborn diapers and a travel pack of wipes so she can feel like it’s her “Diaper Bag.” Also a newborn pacifier, or “paci,” for Decker to give to her new sibling.
o Travel sized Hand Sanitizer
A good time to teach the importance of having clean hands when getting near the baby.
o Solly Dolly Wrap
So big sis can practice baby-wearing with her dolls. We used to do this with my Solly Wrap from when SHE was a newborn, so I was pumped when they announced they were making a “Dolly” wrap for kids to play pretend with. So dang cute.
o Small Game or Toy
To entertain her at the hospital if she gets bored before my mom is ready to take her back home, we’re doing this Nursery Polly Pocket
ON HAND FOR IMMEDIATELY AFTER RETURNING FROM HOSPITAL
o A Bottle of Wine
STRAIGHT TO THE FACE.
o -Always Extra Heavy Overnight Maxi Pads with Flexi-Wings
I can’t remember the exact amount of time but whenever your bleeding slows down and you’re ready to stop wearing the mesh panties and the padsicles. But once you can change to full butt underwear and wear these, it feels like a nice step in the right direction.
After the full butt under and maxi pads, you can change to these and normal underwear (yay).
o Frida Mom Labor + Delivery Postpartum Recovery Kit
It has nicer, better, easier to use versions of all the stuff the best hospitals will give you. Gown, Socks, Peri Bottle to ease the burning when you pee after delivery, postpartum undies (cause you’re a bloody mess, literally), Ice “diaps” as I call them, “padsicles” (witch hazel cooling pad liners), healing foam (like Dermaplast, but better), and a storage bag for all these absolute essentials so you’re not fiddling around looking for everything when you’re already the conductor on the hot-mess-express.
o White vinegar
To put a little bit in the washing machine with your nursing bras to kill any yeast. Also, on your nipples after nursing if you were given antibiotics in the hospital and are worried about thrush.
o Sunflower Lecithin
For breastfeeding moms, start taking one a day, and up it to 2 a day if you feel any pressure or milk clogs. I got mastitis at 6 weeks postpartum - fever, chills, the whole bit. But with the help of these vitamins, hot showers (while combing my breast from armpit to nipple with a thick toothed comb), dangle nursing, and cabbage (cold from the fridge and in moderation, never more than 20 min so as not to impact milk supply), I was able to kick it in less than 24 hours without needing an antibiotic. From then on, I took one sunflower lecithin a day and never got mastitis or a clogged duck again.
Keep that sweet baby against you so you can sniff that sweet head like an addict taking another hit (and in the meantime, keep milk production up). Not to mention, baby will be happiest snuggled in tight against you.
Happy birthing, ladies! You’re superhuman and amazing in every way!
Marriage Vows and New Parent Vows
As we just celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary, our 4th as parents, I am looking back on the promises we made to each other on February 8th, 2014.
Six years ago, I said these vows
In the Bible, it says "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
Kamee June Photography
If all this is true, then I have a lot to learn about love. Love is patient? But what about when I'm really, really hungry? Love does't envy? But I'm a jealous troll? Love doesn't boast? But my entire social media existence is essentially a dedicated brag-a-thon about all the great things you do. Love isn't proud, rude, self-seeking or easily angered and love doesn't keep a record of wrongs? But what about when I'm obviously right about something and I have to do a victory dance and rub it in your face? Is that not "rejoicing in truth?"
I may have a lot to learn about love, but I can say with 100% certainty that I know how to love you.
Because the truth is - you're easy to love. You perpetuate joy, and spread it all around. Being with you is like being tickled - people can't help but laugh - even if they don't want to. You're easy to love - I just got lucky that you found a way to love me back. You're a force of light. You brighten my everyday. And I love that about you. You make my life better. You make ME better.
I can't wait to make tiny humans with you. I can't wait to look at our children's faces for the first time and see you in them - I hope they have your smile. I can't wait to see what you're like as a Daddy. I even think you'll change diapers when the time comes. (And I just said that in front of all these people, so now you kinda have to).
People give a lot of advice to young couples before their wedding day, and, naturally, being me, the ever-inquisitive girl that I am, I had my doubts about some of the advice I received. And I've come to a few honest conclusions about myself and what I'm capable of. But, like I said, I know how to love you. So I think a found a way to make them all work.
Kamee June Photography
Kyle, for today and for the rest of our forever, here are my vows to you:
I can't promise to always shave my legs, but I vow to help you shave yours to help cut time off your 40 yard dash.
I can't promise to be slow to anger when you buy an electric guitar for no apparent reason, but I vow to be quick to forgive and help you start a band.
I can't promise to never "lose the spice," but I vow to get a search team, a Bloodhound, and Sherlock Holmes to help us find it again.
I can't promise to always get along with your family, but I vow that from this day forward - I will love them as MY family.
I can't promise to never make fun of you when you ask things like "Do babies blink?" but I vow to always respect and honor you.
I can't promise to never go to bed angry, but I vow to always wake up happy as long as I'm waking up next to you.
And lastly, I can't promise that I won't make mistakes in our love, I can't promise to always practice things like patience and kindness, but I vow to always protect our love, to always hope and persevere, and to never let our love fail.
“Someday, if you do it right, your children will grow up and leave you. And, hopefully, if you do it right, your partner won’t.”
As a parent, I have a few to add to the originals:
I can’t promise that I won’t walk in the door from work and immediately want to run to our kids, but I vow to get a kiss from you first.
I can’t promise to never say “no” when you’re feeling in the mood and I’m not, but I vow to make it up to you within 3-5 business days.
I can’t promise that our children’s pedestals won’t be sky high, but I vow that yours will always be at least an inch taller.
I can’t promise not to rage against the machine when you don’t/won’t fold the laundry, but I vow to be down to help you get the sheets dirty in the first place.
I can’t promise that I won’t hide Amazon Prime packages when they show up (everyday), but I vow that thanks to 2-day shipping you will never be without toilet paper under my watch.
I can’t promise that my boobs are ever gonna look like they did on the day you married me, but I vow to see a great doctor after we’re done reproducing to see if there’s something that can be done about that.
I can’t promise that I won’t be a psycho when it comes to how we parent our kid/s, but I vow to always let you play “good cop” because it’s clearly your strength and you look phenomenal in uniform.
I can’t promise not to kick you and stab you with my toenails when our baby wakes up in the middle of the night and say "your turn," but I vow to keep your side of the bed warm until you get back.
I can't promise not to watch you sleep picturing your slow death when I'm awake feeding a newborn in middle of the night, but I vow that for every single time I do that, there will be two more times that I look at your sleeping face and thank God for you.
I love you, Kyle. I am so lucky to have you as my husband, and as my baby daddy. You're the best decision I've ever made.
Kamee June Photography
Kamee June Photography
When You're Not the Baby Anymore
Meredith Black Photography
A letter to my first baby, as we prepare for the arrival of our last baby.
To the soon-to-be Big of our soon-to-be Little,
When you’re not the baby anymore, not just to Daddy and Mommy but to your Uncles and Aunts and Grandmas and Grandpa, some things might change. At first, they may seem odd to you, or funny, or annoying. Things will probably feel that way for me, too – because for the first time as a mom, my heart will live outside my body times two. The orbit I take - around you, always, my sun – might wobble with one more heavenly body pulling me. And for you, feeling your world shift might shake your secure footing because…
When you’re not the baby anymore, your feet may spend more time on the ground than they do wrapped and locked around my waist.
But, with that, your legs will grow stronger as you eventually march confidently down your own chosen path.
When you’re not the baby anymore, your lap-perched, three-book minimum bedtime story routine might have to relocate to my side as I nurse your new little brother or sister.
But, with that, you’ll soon learn to read and will eventually have your own lap-sitter – at first, in the form of your sibling, then later (MUCH later), maybe a child of your own.
When you’re not the baby anymore, your sleep, your movies, and your stories might be interrupted by the sound of crying. This will frustrate you and me alike, so just know that we’re in it together.
But, with that, your laughter will be joined by an echoing chorus in a higher pitch as you discover the joy of having a shared joke with a sibling – maybe even at the expense of your totally embarrassing parents.
When you’re not the baby anymore, Mom and Dad may place unfair expectations on you as the “Bigger Kid,” and we may need reminders that you’re still little and you might still have little kid moments and little kid needs.
But, with that, your independence will fortify as you find yourself learning to figure things out for yourself – taking great pride in the moments that you realize that you didn’t need help after all.
When you’re not the baby anymore, your bathwater might get lower – and colder – and more cramped – as you now share the space with another little fishy.
But, with that, the waves of your childhood will splash across the edges of your imagination as your new bathing buddy rides the wake of your creativity.
When you’re not the baby anymore, you may have to shout “Mama! Dada! WATCH!” a little louder and lot more often before we turn our attention towards your twirling, kicking, leaping dance move.
But, with that, two smaller, shorter legs will do their best to mirror the mastery of your move and you will delight in teaching them and encouraging them to try again…. Igniting in you the feelings of pride associated with someone respecting your skills or knowledge. That’s a good feeling, baby. It’s okay to chase that feeling. But, never depend on someone else to validate your worth.
When you’re not the baby anymore, our “family hugs” might be a bit more crowded. Your face’s place between ours might, for you, feel less grounded without the bookends of your parents’ cheeks balanced evenly on either side of yours.
But, with that, I can tell you this: With that extra face in our love huddle, our team will feel so much more complete and you will thrive with a forever friend and someone to lean on when life feels heavy – especially when Mom and Dad aren’t around anymore someday a very, very long time from now.
When you’re not the baby anymore, your main mode of transportation might not occur in three-foot leaps launched by the hands of your favorite people in the world. Instead, there might be another, smaller hand in yours that you must hold tightly onto.
But, with that, you will learn what it’s like to lead instead of follow. You will yank gently when the small hand pulls towards a busy street, you will initiate a squeeze and smile when the small hand squeezes back. You’ll learn to guide those under your charge with respect and kindness – and this will make you a badass boss someday, so practice it earnestly.
When you’re not the baby anymore, there will be another set of eyes fixated on you, watching your every move, adoring you and thinking you hung the moon. The peering eyes will be smaller, but they will be even more desperate to rest upon you than the ones you’ve had trained your way since the day you were born. It’s because of this that…
When you’re not the baby anymore, you might be tasked with setting a good example, even when you’d rather not.
But, with this, you’ll learn that sometimes doing the hard thing and doing the right thing are often the same. This lesson will serve you well, and it’s important to remember to do the right thing even when no one’s looking – because that’s the difference between pageantry and integrity.
When you’re not the baby anymore, our whole family won’t fit on the trio of seats on one side of the airplane and you may be asked to choose between Mommy and Daddy. We know this is hard and it makes you anxious to do things you think will hurt people’s feelings, so we may choose for you.
But, with this, you’ll learn to be adaptable, and also that pleasing everybody is not always possible – or recommended. So show yourself some grace and allow yourself the opportunity to say “no,” especially when your gut tells you to.
When you’re not the baby anymore, you might find that your parents are resorting to man-to-man coverage of you instead of the usual double-teaming. For this reason, we both might not make it to every soccer practice, swim lesson, tumbling class, or recital.
But, with this, know that we both want to be at every thing, all the time, and we will do our best to make sure you always feel supported, treasured, and loved beyond measure. It’s important to be proud of yourself without words of affirmation from others. It’s possible to know you’re good at something without having someone there to cheer you on. Sometimes, your big wins might happen without an audience. Be your own biggest fan and never stop believing in yourself.
When you’re not “the” baby anymore, you’ll still always be our baby. We love you so much it hurts. Never forget that.
Love,
Mom
Meredith Black Photography
Meredith Black Photography
Meredith Black Photography
Meredith Black Photography
Meredith Black Photography
I'm the Pregnant Girl You Hate
Meredith Black Photography - Decker Maternity Shoot
I have easy pregnancies. I never throw up, nausea is a mystery to me. I’ve never had heartburn, back pain, or belly stretch marks… easy. (I feel the need to clarify that I’ve had stretch marks on my thighs since I was 12 so there’s no way to tell if I added to those during pregnancy - but I suspect I did. And no one told me to oil up my ass so I got some more there, too, I’m sure. That’s okay, they’re just proof that this booty’s still juicy - and when I’m 80, I’ll have a visual qualifier that it used to be a nice thick thing). I digress. Point is: Pregnancy isn’t a dreadful experience for me and that makes it easier to remember how much of a blessing it truly is to usher a soul into this world.
Why do I have it a little easier?
I’d like to think my consistency with working out, especially in the first trimester when it’s so easy to just take a nap instead, contributes to my easy pregnancies. But I think it’s more likely that I’m just lucky. My mom had great pregnancies and I think I just got that gene. So while grazing all day on food, drinking a ton of water, being vigilant about my vitamins, and working out consistently helps - I think I’m probably just the pregnant girl you hate. I’m in that lucky 15ish% of women that don’t get morning sickness. I still play volleyball, I do high intensity workouts (like Orange Theory), I lift weights, I run, I sprint, I get randy, I maintain my active lifestyle that most women aren’t lucky enough to feel well enough to do in their first trimester.
With my last pregnancy, I could at least complain that Decker was stealing my beauty - but so far this baby hasn’t given me the same problems. I’ve been waiting for the pregnancy acne and melasma but have been pleasantly surprised that it’s stayed away so far. Now, I’m only approaching 20 weeks with our second, so I’ll have to update this if the second half of the pregnancy takes a turn for the terrible. But, so far, so good.
Meredith Black Photography - Decker Maternity Shoot
Meredith Black Photography - Decker Maternity Shoot
On Pregnancy Weight Gain
When I got pregnant with Decker, I was overweight (for myself, by my standards for me and my preferred BMI for the happiest, healthiest me that performs the best). Please, don’t read more into that than is stated. I’m not body-shaming or insecure, or suggesting I’m not beautiful and great. I’m just suggesting that, for my standards for myself, which are backed by medical guidelines and my own feelings at that size, I was overweight. Now, just let that be what it is and move along.
After doing some research, I learned that if you’re overweight the recommendation from the medical community is that you should only gain 15-25 lbs while pregnant. I worried about weight gain (like most women do - pregnant or not). I booked early morning appointments wearing a thin dress and would take off my watch before stepping on the scale - BECAUSE IM HUMAN AND DAMNIT THAT CLIMBING NUMBER MAKES ME FEEL ANGSTY.
The nurse admitting me the day I gave birth had the chutzpah to say “Oh you’re just shy of 200lbs, I bet you’re so happy you’re delivering early so you don’t hit that 200 mark!” Ya’ll, I could have killed her. Doesn’t she know the first rule about Pregnancy Club? YOU DON’T TALK ABOUT WEIGHT GAIN. But, um, the thought HAD crossed my mind, so I decided not to Tyler Durden her ass. Full disclosure: I ended up gaining 25lbs with Decker and she was 8lbs, two weeks early. (For more on Decker’s birth story, check back in to The Pushover Project later).
Point being, I can’t REALLY complain about pregnancy. Except the itchy butthole. That I complained about. Plenty. What even ARE internal hemmies? I guess they’re like Ghost Hemorrhoids - you can’t see them but you can feel their presence.
Meredith Black Photography - Decker Maternity Shoot
The Post-Partum Shitshow
So while I may be the pregnant chick you hate, God made sure all was balanced in the end by taking me for a wild ride postpartum. In order of appearance:
A five night hospital stay due to jaundice and a broken clavicle for the baby,
My milk coming in with such a fury that I had an ultrasound on my armpit to rule out a tumor (But, just as Arnold said: It’s not a tumor),
Mastitis,
Thrush (for forever - shout out to Gentian Violet for doing the job when two rounds of antibiotics for each of us could not),
The shingles (ON MY LABIA, DOWN MY BUTT AND ALL THE WAY TO MY DAMN ANKLE)
Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease (to which my mother, Jeana Keough, interrogated: “Well, what the hell are you doing hanging out with FARM ANIMALS?!” - much to my confusion, but then I realized she’s thinking of Hoof-and-Mouth Disease.)
Type A Influenza (Not the flippant “Oh I think I have the flu,” flu but the “OMG I’m dying, what is this, why does it feel like I was beaten, why can’t I move, when will the hurt end, holy hell please deliver me from this evil” the FLU flu),
Strep Throat (See all symptoms listed above, but with 12 hour resolve upon the receiving of antibiotics), and
Painful sex for roughly what felt like 84 years (Shout out to the Flesh Light, which I gifted to my husband - much to his confusion - along with the sage advice: “This is your girlfriend now, I’ll let you know when that changes”).
So try not to hate me too much. It sucked for me, too. It just sucked a little later than I expected.
Meredith Black Photography - Decker Maternity Shoot
Meredith Black Photography - Decker Maternity Shoot
How Do I say This?
Come on outta the bag, cat.
Meredith Black Photography
THE VERDICT IS IN: My new gut is not a rosé FUPA from France; it’s not a Swiss cheese fart from Switzerland, or a pasta clot from Italy. As it turns out, our little Eurotrip left our hearts, our bellies, AND my uterus quite full.
Meredith Black Photography
Me, sharing pregnancy news at 26:
“OMG, how am I gonna wait until *tWeLvE WeEkS* to tell everyone - I’m so excited (and young and dumb and well-rested and blissfully ignorant)?!”
Me, sharing pregnancy news at 30, during Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month:
“Oh but...”
… how am I gonna tell people when I know now? I can’t begin to understand, but I know.
I know announcements like this can cause sadness to those squinting their eyes, waiting for two lines to materialize.
I know that pictures like these can contribute to feelings of frustration for those eagerly awaiting The Call that tells them that their baby - the one they’ve been waiting for - is almost in their arms.
I know that smiles like these (about this) might poke and prod at the pain of unfulfilled dreams for those that have suffered a loss, no matter how early, how unfairly, or how long ago.
I know that announcements like this are emotional landmines to those that are tiptoeing around their own grief for the circumstances that won’t allow for the family they envision.
I know these things.
And yet I still don’t know the right thing to say to be sensitive to these huge feelings without feeling like I’m hugely short-changing our little doodle the happiness and joy they sowed in us.
I just don’t know.
Sometimes I simply don’t have the right words, maybe because I’m not wise enough or maybe because there aren’t any. But one of the wisest guys of all time said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that...”
So, I guess, what I’m trying to say is:
“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.”
Your light is coming. Don’t give up.
Meredith Black Photography
To our little baby cub
Your sister tiger is so excited to meet you, fiercely protect you, and lead you. She has your crib made up with a soft blanket and her favorite bunny “Bun-Bun.” She’s personally tested every single one of her old pacifiers to make sure they’ve met all quality control standards for your arrival. She’s pushing the stroller around the house in preparation for her role as your best friend in the entire universe. She wants to name you after Daddy’s identical twin and can’t wait to teach you to fish (even though she’s never been fishing herself). She has graciously offered to change your diapers and give you baths and she’s very excited to find out if “Jesus picked a baby brother or a baby sister for us.”
I intentionally waited for the right time to bring you into our family for a reason, I just had no idea my reason would be this freaking excited. It’s really damn cool. We love you like crazy already, baby. April 2nd, 2020 can’t come soon enough.
Love,
Mom/Mama/Mommy/Babe/Honey/Kara (as known by your big sister)
Meredith Black Photography
Meredith Black Photography
Barf Bags, Cheese Clots and Nap Time Nooky: My Comprehensive Guide to Traveling Abroad with a Toddler
I’m a planner. I’m a “check-in on a Southwest flight the second you’re permitted to” person. I’m a “get to the airport 2 hours early even though I have TSA pre-check” person. I’m a “line up the SECOND they call your boarding zone” person. I’m not calm until my flight takes off and I can watch the flight tracker to confirm there will be an on-time arrival.
Decker in ruins. Literally. Such a crabby patty after waiting in line for an hour and a half.
Admittedly, I have some control issues. And my poor husband is victim to my travel neurosis on the regular. It has been said that there are two types of people in a relationship: the “Here’s your boarding pass, itinerary, and packing list” person and the “Where are we going again?” person… and it’s safe to say I’m the former. So preparing for a trip abroad, which I could not FULLY plan due to the nature of the World Cup playoff brackets, was an extreme sport for me. After three weeks in three different countries with my three year old, here’s my best advice:
1. Opt for Housing over Hotels.
Book VRBO or Airbnb with a closing/locking bedroom when you can. Laundry facilities are essential when you’re dealing with a carsick kid or a pee accident or swamp-ass clothing from walking around all day. You can minimize your luggage this way - which comes in handy for trains/planes/and tiny European automobiles. Closing doors make it easier to put the kid down for naps and still maintain a healthy vacation-worthy sex life in a separate room. Although naptime “bathroom-boogie” can also be accomplished if you remember to bring your portable white noise machine and you aren’t stuck with a TINY European bathroom. Book your rental lodging around a hotel with the highest “Walkable” score on TripAdvisor so you don’t have to worry about driving in a foreign country or putting your kid in a cab without a car seat.
A little stroll to our VRBO from the gelato shop.
2. Rent car seats and buy a cheap umbrella stroller abroad.
You don’t wanna haul carseats across cities and through airports. It’s easiest to rent a car and pay to include the age-appropriate car seat. Unless your kid is young enough still and you happen to have a Doona Stroller, don’t even bother. If you’re going to be doing a lot of walking for a tour, either wear your child or just pick up a cheap umbrella stroller.
Florentinas.
We wore Decker in Paris because it was the beginning of our trip and we were so grateful we brought the Lillebaby – which lets your kid essentially sit in a supported Piggy Back Ride (up to 50lbs). By the later part of our trip, we purchased a cheap umbrella stroller and it was so nice to have it - it folded up tightly and stored easily. Try to backload the heavy walking activities for the later part of the trip so you don’t have to worry about exhausting yourself from baby-wearing or transporting the stroller across multiple trains/planes. If you want to bring it home at the end of the trip, it’s just one checking situation vs. lugging it all over if you’re moving locations on your trip.
Strollin’ with the homies.
3. Start each day with an opportunity for the kid to burn some energy.
Whether it’s park time, a walk around a museum, or a dip in the pool… give your tiny human the opportunity to expel some of their endless energy. If they get a chance to move their bodies, they’ll be more inclined to sit peacefully on an iPad while you’re enjoying a seven course Chef’s Tasting Menu with Wine Pairings. After they’ve burned some energy and eaten, naptime arrives just as the buzz from the rosé kicks in and you can attempt naptime nooky! Everybody wins!
Swiss movement.
4. Bring extra outfits for the plane ride. It’s not excessive, it’s insurance.
Four outfits for each kid, two each for you and your partner. I wish I could say this is “JUST IN CASE OF EMERGENCY” but you’ll likely use them all before arriving at your first hotel. Because kids. Pee, water, food, barf, or snot – none feel good for 10 hours on a flight.
And if the airline loses your luggage, you have clean clothes to get you through until your bag is back in your possession. If your kid’s freshly potty trained or in diapers: Bring one diaper/pull-up for every hour you are expecting to travel (including time to and from airport/plane/lodging) plus two in case of delays or lost baggage. Only bring enough diapers for the first three days of your trip and buy the rest there. Or do what I did and pack diapers for the whole trip to save space for all the clothes you’re GOING TO buy and put in their place – just don’t tell your husband that’s what you’re doing.
Parenting on a Plane 101: iPad & Headphones.
5. Don’t throw all your healthy habits out the window.
Keep taking your probiotics and vitamins and make sure your kids are doing the same. Cut down on nastiness by Clorox wiping your area on public transit – because kids are freaking disgusting and will always lick a seat or tray table given the opportunity. And, for the love of God, mix in a vegetable. We made the mistake of letting Decker overdose on parmesan with EACH bite of pasta while in Florence and Rome – because 1. It was hilarious, 2. She was eating and quiet and 3. We were pretty much doing the same because the parm was top notch. Well after five days of no bowel movements from the kid, she projectile vomited not once but twice on our trek home from Europe. She had a pretty fierce cheese clot and the constipation was REAL. Don’t be us. Force some veggies, smoothies, oatmeal, eggs, any fiber on the small humans. We know better, they don’t.
Gordes
6. Make exceptions.
We brought pacifiers which we’d been done using for over a year, we laid down with her to put her to bed, we let her watch the iPad at fancy restaurants, we put her in a Pull-Up even though she’s potty trained, and we carried her more than a 3.5 year old needs to be carried.
We made exceptions to some hard house rules – rules that we’ve worked really diligently to set. But kinda like how you can have booze at the airport at 10:00am, and you can wear pajamas in public on an airplane, traveling has its own set of rules and we extended those allowances to our kid. We knew it would be overwhelming, scary, exciting, and over-stimulating for our daughter to take on EIGHT different sleeping locations over the course of three weeks, so we let her have the comfort of a pacifier even though she’d kicked the habit a year and a half prior.
We did what we needed to do to make the trip happen, and she loved every minute of it – truly. That being said, the second she heard the pilot announce we were landing in Jacksonville, she actually SCREECHED with excitement:
“THAT’S US, MOM! THAT’S OUR HOME! WE’RE HOME IN JACKSONVILLE!!!!!!”
And had tears of joy in her eyes. So while there is something magical about showing your kid new cultures, places, and experiences… there’s really nothing like coming home. Especially when you haven’t pooped in five days due to heavy cheese abuse abroad.
If you have any specific questions about traveling with a three year old, or kid questions about Provence, Florence, Rome, Lyon, Paris, Geneva, drop them in the comments.
