Three times a Mom

It has taken me 6 months or 24 weeks and 2 days or 4080 hours to sit down and write this blog post. It’s personal, and I don’t do personal publicly very well. I like having a private life, I enjoy disappearing, and sharing only when I feel open enough to. That’s a real problem in our society; the need to share all the damn time. People share way too much and wonder why they feel so exposed, so used up. Nonetheless, I figured the post, even though private, might help someone in the public. I’m not your average woman in a few areas and that holds me back from speaking up sometimes. I love fresh flowers (a lady should always have some in her home) but I hate Mothers & Valentines Day. I love girlfriend coffee chats, but hate gossip. I love my kids but hate playdates, mommy groups, crowded playgrounds, casual mom conversations, and silly post of your kids average achievements. (Guess what: ALL kids learn how to hug, blow kisses, walk, crawl, and eat cookies. Save those moments for the people that really care to see all that.) So it should be no surprise when I say I hated being pregnant! Yes I hated it! Everything about the thought of some small person controlling my entire body, thoughts, sleep, and sanity without even physically being here was like a death sentence. I did everything I could to stay true to Briana during my first pregnancy.


The first 4 months, I barely ate anything. Couldn’t get fat was my only thought. I had worked to hard to get in shape, and was’t about to let this little girl ruin that. That was until i passed out driving my car and woke up in the hospital. Yes, that's right I was driving, and remember looking at this gas station thinking maybe I should pull over. Luckily the car didn’t burst into fiery flames, and the gas attendant saw me, called the police and they got me to the hospital. My husband and doctor yelled at me for being ridiculous and demanded I grow up. EAT! You and the baby need it. Something horrible could have happened. I listened, but I still wasn’t your normal cheery ,” look at me I’m a fat and happy pregnant woman!”  I never appreciated the process, the ease of growing a person. I was doing toe touches at 9 months pregnant, running a very active business, and even after my first daughters birth I didn’t stop to ever appreciate the magic I had just created. I went straight back to work after a 1 week. Seriously, I was still hurting from a C-Section and hosting a cheer competition less than 7 days from being released from the hospital. My second pregnancy happened 5 1/2 years later and my views hadn’t changed one bit. I actually I hated it even more. The sheer thought of doing it all again annoyed me, The sleepy days, the lost of thoughts, the need to eat at 3am, watching your favorite outfits become strangers, crying at commercials, and no wine. Oh my god I thought! How dare the universe punish me again. My second daughter (just like she is now) did things her way, I couldn’t fit any shoes after 8 months, I lost all sex drive and was running a Pole Dance studio at the time. Ha, I was teaching women how to be sexy and couldn’t bare to look at myself in any other way but ‘Yuck’. On top of all that madness I was plagued with knowing I would have to endure yet another C-Section. Unless this kid just fell out of me I was scheduled to be sliced open. The slicing went according to plan, and she has been bossing me around ever since.

My daughters have been my world since they entered this one. But I never really said a ‘thank you’ for having very healthy children. I never appreciated the awe of motherhood. I love everything about them, and I’m super protective of who they know, speak to, or communicate with. I’m the mom that always has her kids, but don’t have any time for playtime. I’m the mom that you see at the park standing next to the bench, watching like a hawk, but will do everything not to start a conversation with you. I’m the mom that has all the questions for the teacher and the school, but you’ll never see me at a PTA meeting. I’m the mom most moms just can’t figure out what’s her problem? No problem, I just have never been interested in being categorized as a mom. I’m so much more! I’m sexy, free, wild, unpredictable, spontaneous, creative, daring, fiery, and blunt. And I seriously believed you couldn’t be all those things and be a mom, especially not pregnant. It was reassuring to me when my girls got older and they could tell me what they wanted, needed, did or didn’t like, and could dress themselves. I thought: ‘thank goodness I’ve made it. The baby stage is over!’ Then 4 months ago, I thought maybe I had an infection and went to the doctor. As I was sitting in the lobby a pregnant woman sat next to me and I was thinking NO NO NO, I don’t want her cooties to rub off on me. Even as the doctor asked me what she thought it could be I said anything but being pregnant. As a routine they did a test. As soon as she walked out that room with a cup full of light yellow liquid I thought to myself PLEASE PLEASE be anything but that. I’ll take anything but that. Boy, the universe is definitely an ass at times because she came back with a huge smile; well your pregnant just about 11 weeks. I almost passed out. Even said something crazy enough for her to ask me if I needed her to call my husband; you know for my own safety. Pregnant! I can’t be pregnant. I’m old. My career is going in the right direction. I can actually travel now and my kids enjoy me being gone. I’m just too darn sexy and fit right now; I’m having fun! Pregnant!!!?!!!? I cried for a solid week. I asked the universe why, why me, why now, why?


I know so many women that would love this right now, and I give it to them. One of my dearest sister friends had really hard pregnancies and I always joked with her I’d give her my uterus and she can use it up. I’ve already done my  justice to the world, why me again? It wasn’t until a dream I had where my late uncle asked me about the baby, (I still hadn’t told anyone about it, not even my husband) and what I would name him that I even considered having the kid. Every day after that I woke up with a little tug on my soul. A tight little hold of excitement, of wonder. It hit me that this would really be the last chance to do this and enjoy it. That for some reason even after me being a complete ass the universe has blessed me to have another chance at doing it again with a smile this time. This pregnancy has been different ever since. This little boy has taken my heart already. He keeps me up all night; kicking and punching. He hates the smell of meat just like his momma. He loves spoonfuls of peanut butter, and is making my boobs bigger than they've ever been. Not to mention the excitement he’s brought to my family!Everyone is looking forward to loving this little boy, this last addition. This pregnancy has taken me places I never even thought I needed to go. Its made me more humble, grateful, and realistic. My yoga practice has changed dramatically. I use to be all power... go go go. Now I find myself sitting, rolling, and just being present on the mat. It’s allowed my body to heal, and appreciate all the students I couldn’t relate to before. I use to take my body for granted, and now everything is a journey for real! It has been a real eye opener. I even took my need to rest for granted, and now I sleep with no excuse. Some days I don’t leave the bed, and I’m not apologizing at all for it. I also had to accept the idea of losing myself in being pregnant. That its okay to love your belly. Its okay that your body is changing. Its okay that you cleaned your plate. Its okay that your 90 minute flow went to a 25 minute one. It’s okay, because I am making a person. I am in the process of creating one of the best gifts; a black man. This pregnancy has taught me so many things, and continues to shape the woman I am. I am happy to rub my belly, and feel kicks, and not complain about my cheeks getting fat. I actually... ummm..., I’m actually enjoying being pregnant! Oh no, don’t tell anyone! I can’t lose my cool card! No but seriously, I guess I’m writing this post to say: sometimes change happens when you need it the most. Sometimes the universe is giving you exactly what you wanted even when you didn’t ask.


This pregnancy has led me to leave things I knew I needed to leave but was too afraid to do it. This pregnancy has made me softer, vulnerable, quieter, and loving. Life is funny in that it’s only when you are knee deep in it that you realize this is the best part. Enjoy the changes of your life, and most importantly enjoy the excuse of being too tired to finish washing clothes.


Love, Light & Fucking Magic

Bri


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