Blue’s Birth Day!

And the birth of his mother.


(I will be writing this out in my handwriting for Blue’s scrapbook and baby book/keepsake box.) I started this on his birthday, but once I pick him up, I try really hard to focus on him. The laptop has to be put up when he is awake or home lol.

The weeks leading up to Blue’s birth, I had all the typical feelings a woman about to go into labor has but didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to hear, “I told you so.” But I was absolutely terrified of a c-section and still birth. Even as he kicked me up until he popped out, I was terrified of still birth. My body was restricting him, he couldn’t grow, had been out of room for two months due to extremely low amniotic fluid. Whil I prepped, prepared, even wrote out a birth plan in case of an emergency c-section, and made sure everyone knew I wanted a vbac, there was still the possibility of a c-section. (I am not downing c-sections at all, I was NOT going to do a repeat). It probably helped prepare me for the extreme lack of sleep I have had the last year because the stress those last two weeks was ginormous.

I left work early that day, I was not in the mood to deal with stupid people when I was getting ready mentally to meet the love of my life. I think I might have napped. Showered, ate a big dinner, and just relaxed. I thought about what he looked like. I thought about how my son Andrew looked when he was born and wondered if they would look alike. I felt him rolling and kicking the whole time. When we left for the hospital, the nerves were on fire. I was soooooo nervous! Kevin wasn’t much help as he hates hospitals. As we went to my labor and delivery room, the whole “you can’t turn back now” feeling hit me. Like shit! I’m not ready! What if I screw up!? I’m going to ruin this kid’s life! (I still this way haha)

Since I was already in labor, we got to relax and weren’t bothered very much until the next morning. I didn’t get much sleep since I could hear other mothers laboring in pain and screaming while birthing their babies. That didn’t help my nerves at all.

The next morning, it was really setting in. “Shit, I’m about to give birth. I’m about to become a mother, again, FOR REAL this time. I’ll never be alone again, I’ll never be myself again.” After waiting so long for him, I was excited to meet him, I couldn’t picture what he would look like, but I had this body numbing feeling that I couldn’t shake. “What am I getting myself into?” My mum showed up and told me that all women feel that way. We talked, listened to Iron Maiden and Metallica, and laughed. After I got the epidural that is. I was able to relax and just wait. The back labor was insanely painful but the contractions didn’t phase me. When I got checked for the last time and was told its time to push, I was like “I’m ready!? I can’t feel anything!” Kevin and my mum had me laughing between pushes. 26 minutes after it started, my perfect little boy was born.

He was laid on my chest mewling and soon quieted down. Now I know he could smell me and he was comforted, he felt safe. I sobbed. Like I could not stop. He was grunting, which the nurse said was him clearing his lungs, and making the cutest little noises. Oh, I miss those noises. In that moment, my life changed forever. A 7 pound 11 ounce little boy named Blue made me his mother and I met the love of my life.


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My Little Love

I waited through 10 years of disappointment and heartbreak for him. Every month my period came and I’d be devastated all over again. I’m told hindsight is 20/20 and I see now that a child with my ex was not meant be and is actually a blessing. Even though at the time, miscarriage is miscarriage and still steals your heart, whether it was meant to be or not. To not be tied to my ex for the rest of my life is actually a good thing. Because the child I did finally get is everything I ever wanted and more. Even though I cried like a child when I found out he was a boy.

Out of the thousands of photos I have taken and have had taken of my son, this one from when he was 3 days old, taken in our bedroom on my cell, is my absolute favorite.

When I found out I was pregnant, I downloaded every pregnancy application known to man. The first time I saw him at 7 weeks 2 days gestation, period bleeding caused me to rush to the E.R., those apps told me that my baby was the size of a blueberry. I didn’t connect with my fetus then my baby until I was about 7 months pregnant. Even before I found out early what the sex of tge baby was, I called him Blueberry. It was my way of talking to it. Trying to connect to it, through all of those scary, high anxiety months. Even after we hit viability and he could be saved if I went into labor, thus making him important to others. When I found out he was a boy, officially, on December 23rd 2014, Blueberry started to be shortened to Blue. He is still Blue to this day. Even if he is named after his father, Kevin James Jr. He will always be my little boy Blue no matter how big for his britches that he gets.

I strove for a vbac. In the beginning of my pregnancy, I had resigned to the fact that I was going to have to have a cesarean section. It depressed me greatly. My anxiety was so high that I started therapy and was put on medication. My doctors at the time said because I had already had one before, I would have to have another. They went so far as to lie in my medical records that I had a classical incision, to force the csection. I had joined a birth group on Facebook and there I found out about vbacs or vaginal births after a cesarean. I brought it up to my doctors, they said no. I still wanted to vbac, even if I absolutely had to have a csection in the end, I wanted to try. The doctors wouldn’t even allow me a chance to TOLAC, let alone vbac. Towards the end if January, 2015 I asked at one doctor appointment when would my baby move, since he was hip to hip and had been for months. My doctor responded, “What does it matter if he moves? You’re having a csection anyways.” I sat in my car for a hour afterwards in their parking lot and bawled my eyes out. I started calling other obgyns that were vbac friendly. I found a midwife office that would take me, but once they found out about my bicournate uterus and blood clot history, they transferred me to a high risk doctor office. To Dr. Ngyuen, who delivered my son vaginally. I got to see my son every month, until the end where it was 3-4 times a week due to extremely low fluid. To actually have such supportive doctors made the end of my pregnancy so much better. I researched the crap out of vbacs, how medications affect labor, inductions, interventions, you name it I researched it. I started taking red raspberry leaf tea tablets and evening primrose oil, because in my mind at this point, a csection was not an option. I was going to be ready by the time 40 weeks came around. The end of April, I went in because I thought I was leaking fluid. They did an ultrasound. The baby’s fluid had dropped from like a 21 to an 11. It was still “good” so they weren’t that concerned, except it had dropped so much. I went in May 12 for a two week appointment and ultrasound. His fluid had dropped to a 4. At 37 weeks pregnant, they were going to transport me across the street and take him via emergency csection. They hooked me up to a NST and “allowed” me to stay pregnant. I went in for check ups and ultrasounds every few days, every visit meant I loaded my car up just in case. I was downing fluids like a fish. Every check it stayed the same. They scheduled an induction for May 25th, at 39 weeks and 1 day. I went in that night at 8pm and low and behold I was already in labor. All that back pain I had been having was from Blue pressing against my spine, sunny side up at a 0, from being in early labor every day at work. Kevin and I were allowed to rest and sleep with minimal interruptions. Around 7am the next morning, my water was broken. Around 9am, pit was started. By noon when I could no longer talk from the back labor and I was hysterically crying, an epidural was placed. I really didn’t want an epi. Too many births end up in csections from pit and epis. I tried to do it on my own. I wonder if he wasn’t against my spine and there was minimal back labor, if I could have. By then my labor had stalled because of the pain I was in and how high my stress and anxiety was. I was allowed to rest on a peanut ball, rotated every so often to help speed things along. My mum and Kevin were there with me. I wanted to labor to music, so Kevin had Iron Maiden playing. Around 5pm, my nurse Noni said I was ready. I had no freakin clue, I couldn’t feel anything. I guessed when to push. The contractions didn’t hurt, it was all in the back. My mum had one leg and Kevin had the other. They kept me laughing throughout active labor. I was laughing as I pushed my son out. 26 minutes of pushing and Blue was born at 5:35pm on May 26th. He was placed on my chest and just laid there, all quiet and curled up, while I sobbed.

"I fucking did it!" was the caption I shared with this picture to announce his birth.

I always say how baby noises are my favorite thing about a baby. Blue’s grunts and squeaks were the most precious sounds ever. I was able to birth my little mircale the way I wanted. I wanted to breastfeed, he latched on like a champ shortly after birth. We did not circumcise as there was no way I was going to chance him bleeding out or having a heart attack. He was born absolutely perfect. Noni said his grunts were him clearing his lungs, but he continued to grunt that way for months, as his way to communicate. He had deep, dark blue eyes that are now the most beautiful light blue eyes in the world. I had given birth to the most beautiful child created.

Now, we approach his one year birthday. 19 days away to be exact. And I am full of emotions. I like him more now that he’s older and my PPD has lessened tremendously. But how do I miss my little 7 pound 11 ounce miracle nursing quietly on his nursing pillows in our bedroom. The noises, the feel of him, his breath on my skin, his little hands holding my finger. He is such a boy now. I am a mom to a very little boyish boy. So independent, yet so dependent on me still. I am so glad I was given him. He is my heart, he is my happy.



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Losing Myself

I currently work for Wal-Mart. Technically, I am on a leave. But I am going back soon because my good looks and charm do not pay the bills.

I am actually upset at the thought of returning to such an ugly place. While it may not be ugly to others, it is to me. I sincerely feel that retail has ruined me for any other work. No one will touch a retail consumed person with a little office experience. (What do you really think managers do?)

When I got pregnant, it was like a light bulb went off.

“I am better than this.”

“I deserve more. I deserve to do things I love instead of doing something that I know really well while chained to the wall of misery just to take care of my family.”

Yes, I know many women do this , but at the expense of my sanity and happiness? The sanity and happiness of my son? My family?

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I am Brandy

I am Brandy.

I am a human. I am a mother. I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am an aunt. I am a cousin. I am a friend. I am a survivor. I am a Scorpio. I am warrior. I am a brilliant mind. I am a woman. I am me.

Of all the labels we put on people as a society, why are those labels so negative as opposed to the real, true labels?

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