Thsi is my first time doing the One Room Challenge and I couldn’t be more excited to make over my bedroom! This room is ALWAYS cluttered. It seems everything gets thrown in here. My bedroom is literally my room, the baby’s room, and the dog’s room all in one. Someone send help!
But really, making this room over has been on my to-do list for a while. In fact, I’ve already started painting! Some new decor and new paint while showcasing our bed as a centerpiece will for sure create a to-die-for bedroom oasis.
Check out what my ideas are for this bedroom!
Y’all know I love the modern farmhouse look mixed with a little coastal. My theme for this bedroom is still mostly “farmhouse,” with a touch of mid-century (stepping out of my comfort zone but my eye always goes to this style) but I do want it to be a relaxing space for us to retreat to at night. I love bright rooms with lots of sunlight, so creating a room that is warm, but bright is important to me!
Here’s my idea board!
I have a new sign to go above my bed from Hobby Lobby I can’t wait to share! I have this white comforter set from Target!
Next, I am going to spray paint my current curtain rods black! I will buy the wall lights and new baskets for the built ins that are already in my room.
We have about 5 weeks left in this challenge and I still have so much work to do! I’ve already started painting and I refinished my two end tables! I’m excited to see it come together!
Our rainbow baby Beau Robert Faison was born on April 10, 2020 at 12:45 pm and weighed 7 lbs 8.8 oz 21 inches long. He is absolutely perfect in every way. He was born at the onset of a national pandemic.
It’s hard to believe it’s been a whole year since a day I thought would never come. My due date was April 17th and we scheduled his induction at 39 weeks. I had a prenatal appointment the day before and was still only measuring 2 cm but was completely thinned out and Beau’s head was sitting so low!
Our hospital bags were packed and we made arrangements for my mom to be at our house to stay with the other kids. Although this was super convenient and I was so ready to have him here, the biggest reason we decided to have an induction was due to COVID-19. Things were changing almost daily in the healthcare world, and I was terrified the hospital was going to change the rules again. At that time, we knew wouldn’t be allowed to have any visitors and only Gene could be with me. I don’t know how I would have gotten through it without him by my side and I wasn’t going to wait any longer to see if the coronavirus would take that from me. We had initially wanted all of our kids outside in the waiting room when the baby came but Covid had other plans.
I had been having contractions all night and was still having contractions on the way to the hospital the next morning at 4 AM. Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep. Since this baby was so special and our last one, we decided not to find out the gender and I think the idea of finally finding out also had me super excited that night. I slept in and out of dreams of “it’s a boy” or “ it’s a girl.” Nervous and anxious, we left around 4:30 AM for the hospital on Friday morning with our face masks in hand ready to find out if we were having a boy or girl!
We arrived at the hospital with face masks on to huge signs outside the hospital with COVID-19 plastered all over them notifying visitors of the new rules. We made our way through the checkpoint at the door and a bunch of questions which made us feel like we were living in a sci-if movie. We rode the elevator up to the labor and delivery floor and much to our surprise the hospital was pretty empty and the women’s center seemed pretty normal. A sigh of relief.
As we got settled into our room, I opened the blinds and the sun was coming up in the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen. I felt so blessed.
Once we got there we couldn’t leave our room. The hospital would deliver all of our meals, as the cafeteria was closed, even feeding Gene which they normally don’t do. I had to wear a mask any time anyone was in our room and I had to wear a mask during the delivery.
Our amazing midwife, whose name is also Mary, got there, broke my water, and started me on pitocin. The plan was to get the epidural because with my last delivery, I had complications with my placenta and I was scared we would encounter that again. It wasn’t long after we started the process that I started feeling the contractions. After rocking on the ball and withstanding the pain for a little while, I told them I was ready for the epidural. I was still only measuring 4 cm which was felt like a blow because with the pain I was feeling I was guessing I was at least a 7!
Getting the epidural felt like it took forever. I was trying to be still in between suffering the pain of contractions while the anesthesiologist was poking around trying to get it right. That was the longest few minutes of my life. My contractions were so severe by this point and it was all I could do to sit there still and let them stick me.
Once I had the epidural I felt a ton better, ate some ice chips, checked my phone, and waited. Things seemed to be going ok.
When Mary came in and checked me…. Beau was coming! His head was right there and the staff quickly prepared for me to push. I was even able to feel his head before I started pushing. Gene and Mary set up the phones to FaceTime my sister and my mama and our kids who all would have been there if it hadn’t been for COVID.
Legs up. Newborn bed was ready. Lights were on. Tools prepared. Pads were down. It was time.
I think I only pushed a few times and he was here! Mary exclaimed, “ITS A BOY!” and tears started flowing as I got to hold him for the first time. It was truly a joyful moment and I can’t really even describe it in words. Beau was here. After everything it took to get us this sweet babe, he was here. I was holding him and watching his pouty lips. There’s no greater feeling than holding your newborn baby, especially after loss.
Gene cut the chord. Everyone was cheering and smiling. Happy moments. Our kids were on the other end of FaceTime screaming “I knew it was a boy!” While I was coddling Beau, the anxiety of reliving my placenta issues set in with Gene. I could see him paying attention and looking nervous, asking questions. He quickly told me sister we had to hang up. It took a little while and after some pushing on my tummy, my placenta finally delivered. We were in the clear.
Or so we thought.
I don’t even know how much time had passed since Beau was born, but things had calmed down. Mary had come in and said she was leaving and she would see us tomorrow. We were alone with Beau in the room. And I have to admit with no visitors it was kind of nice to just be the three of us. The simplicity and intimacy of it is was just beautiful.
After a couple of checks and the nurse pushing on my belly, she said she was going to call Mary to come back. It seemed that I was bleeding more than I should. I could see Gene’s face. He had that worried look again. Mary came back and as I was still holding Beau, I was passing huge blood clots and soaking the bed with blood.
My uterus was not clamping down like it should have. They called in another doctor who came immediately. If the bleeding didn’t stop I would possibly have to have a D&C to make sure the entire placenta had been removed. On top of that, I had a fever.
Let me remind you this was the start of the pandemic and the thought of me having a fever meant I could possibly have to get a Covid test and if God forbid I was positive, I could have Baby Beau taken from me. This was my biggest fear. Fear and doubt crept in. The doctors and nurses left the room and my anxiety took over. I started balling begging Gene to do something. I couldn’t be separated from my baby. All I could picture was me in a room all by myself with my milk drying up and my baby screaming for me in the nursery. I know, dramatic right? But at the time it was very, very real.
Gene took the baby while the doctors worked on me. Things weren’t getting any better. They gave me some meds in my IV that were supposed to help stop the bleeding.
The next time they checked things seemed to be improving. I sat up to eat something more than ice chips while Gene held our sweet baby boy. The next thing I remember I was sitting there talking to everyone and all of a sudden Gene was in my face shouting my name and all I could smell was a horrid smell that stung my nose.
I passed out.
Thank God Gene was holding the baby when it happened. A nurse had rushed in and waved some ammonia in front of my nose and all of a sudden I was back.
I lost too much blood. I saw Gene disappear into the bathroom. Later he told me that he went in the bathroom and talked to God begging him and pleading with him to save me. Shortly after, our doctor, Dr. Federici came in and checked me out and the bleeding had stopped. I had to receive a blood transfusion. 2 pints of blood.
It was super eerie that someone else’s blood was being pumped into my body but let me tell you.. once I received that blood, I felt 1,000 times better.
All of that happened in just a few hours. Dr. Federici came in before he left and looked at me and said, “No more babies. Your uterus is tired.” Baby number four was no easy feat but oh so worth it. The next day, I felt a ton better and we were even able to come home later that evening.
Childbirth still amazes me. The fact that my body went through all of that in less than 24 hours is unbelievable. I was so tired and scared. I had to let God take over and get me through it and He did. This birth experience gave me a whole new perspective on and respect for birthing babies.
Beau Robert, you are one year old today! It has been one whole year of loving you, feeling so much joy in every giggle, smile, watching you sleep, nursing you, and cuddling you. Thank you for making me a mommy again and for being my rainbow.
In honor of Pregnancy After Loss Awareness Month, I’m republishing the blog post I wrote when I was 19 weeks pregnant with our rainbow baby.
Pregnancy after loss is so hard and it taught me not to take things for granted. It taught me how naive I was my first three pregnancies. It taught me in the wake of something terrible, can be something beautiful.
I’m spreading #palawarenesss to help people understand how hard pregnancy can be but how much harder it is after you’ve suffered loss. I’m spreading awareness to stop the perception that pregnancy is all glamorous and happiness. It’s ok to be pregnant and sad. That doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful or that you’re ungrateful. It just means your scared. Those feelings are valid. Walking into that ultrasound room expecting to hear something bad, the constant worrying, checking for blood every time you go to the bathroom and breathing a sigh of relief when there’s nothing, holding your breath in between kicks praying there will be another.. imagine feeling uncertain about every second for 9 months straight. That’s what it’s like to be pregnant after loss.
I’m here to spread awareness to help people understand that every pregnancy is different and you don’t know the journey it took to get there.
Oh, and rainbow babies are real. Very real and oh so perfect in every way. Scroll down to read the post.
Pregnancy After Miscarriage written November 19, 2019
This pregnancy has been a whirlwind of emotions so far. I will be 19 weeks this week and after losing our last baby at 9 weeks, I am still extremely nervous every day.
Every time I go to the bathroom, I can’t help but look for the one thing that has the potential to change everything… blood. Every time I feel any kind of pain, it sends off alarms in my head. Every minute of every day, I have to try not to think about what could go wrong.
Am I drinking enough water? I forgot to take my prenatals. Maybe I’m sleeping the wrong way. I’m not eating healthy enough…. All of these thoughts that I have this time around because I’ve experienced how quickly babies can be taken away.
It‘s hard to see the future when the future has been ripped away from you before. It’s hard to imagine I’ll actually give birth this time or that we’re actually having a baby. Some days it still doesn’t feel real, even when I’m looking at this growing belly or putting on my maternity pants. Who would have thought that buying onesies and tiny hats would be scary?
I’m terrified. Nothing is promised and theres no guarantee I’ll be pregnant.. even tomorrow.
Looking back on when I was pregnant with my first 3 kids, I honestly feel like I took those pregnancies for granted. That I.. got lucky.. that we made it through those 9 months that I realize now are so fragile and delicate. There are so many babies and mamas that aren’t that lucky. And I had no clue until it happened to me.
So many people have said to me, things like.. I knew it would happen for you! Or… I’m so happy you’re pregnant! All things we want to hear, but in the back of my mind, I’m thinking… when will we ever feel like we’re “in the clear” this time?
Don’t worry, there are plenty of moments where I am SO excited! We are thinking of baby names, asking about family names for inspiration, and we’ve even started buying a few baby things. We’re looking at car seats and I am planning on where to put the crib, and what new furniture to buy.
Every. single. moment. I am grateful.
Even with the worrying, I am thankful, and I won’t stop praying, praying, praying that our rainbow will be here this Spring, plump and healthy with all ten fingers and all ten toes! This holiday season we have so much to be thankful for and I will continue to pray for all of those other mamas out there who are pregnant and battling their own fears… and for those mamas who are still hopeful and trying.
Daughters are so much different than sons aren’t they?! There’s a much different relationship between a mother and a daughter than there is between a mother and her son. We tend to be harder on our daughters. We push them and challenge them at times when we might react a little less stern to our sons. Why is that? We see OURSELVES in our daughters. We want them to be better than us. So we push.
How do we push them to be better?
Should I start singing the song? R-E-S-P-E-C-T. You know the one. The one you start singing in the car with the windows down… or maybe it’s the one that you sing to your kiddos when they say just the wrong thing. Either way, that song speaks some truth.
If my two girls learn anything from me, I hope it’s that they learn how to respect. Respect others, respect their parents, and how to respect THEMSELVES.
Respect starts with decisions. Choices. Choosing what to say and when to say it. Knowing when to hold back and when to tell it like it is.
Our daughters need to know how to make choices.
Teaching them how to stop, think about the consequence of their choice, and then move forward with the best possible decision is how we grow young girls into strong women.
This. World. Needs. Strong. Women.
Amen.
And when their choices aren’t the best, learn from them. Pause, breathe, and reflect. They need to know how to think about others. Consideration. Understand perspective. When people are unkind or mistreat them, I want them to respect themselves enough to know when to walk away but also when to not take it anymore… when to cut ties… when to choose better.
But really, our daughters are the future and if we can make these girls see that they can be ANYTHING they want to be.. that they can be powerful and humble at the same time… that they are resilient beyond measure… that they will overcome challenges but should do so with GRACE… then there’s no limit to how wonderful they will be.
Let’s always push them to be better… and always lift them up with a mindset of self-confidence and independence.
I am 34 years old and have 4 kids, 2 step kids, and one angel baby, all ranging from 18 years to 10 months old. My motherhood journey has been just that. A journey. A crazy, messy, beautiful, roller coaster ride of a journey.
I often think about my 20 year old self about to give birth for the first time. I remember that day of the ultrasound. I went to the appointment by myself and wore all pink because I knew I would never be able to handle a boy. I even wore pink socks and underwear. It HAD to be a girl. Because Lord knows I would absolutely DIE if it was a boy. Luckily for me, she was a beautiful 7 lb. baby girl. And so was my next baby three years later. (On the same day I might add!)
I look back and think about how young and naive I was as a mom of two little girls. I loved them and would do anything for them but looking back, that life was about me. My problems. My struggling marriage. My domestic abuse story. My messy divorce. My issues. And they were just along for the ride. My ride.
Now as a mom of six, this LIFE is about them. But this journey, this journey is still about me.
I have had to “find myself” with each baby, each wrong turn, each mistake, each celebration, and each choice I’ve ever made. The one thing that’s stayed constant is that I’m a mama.
So, yes my motherhood journey has been just that. A journey. A journey of learning who I am with each one of my babies. I am definitely not that 19 year old girl with that unseen pregnant belly out of wedlock and scared to death of what was to come. Nor am I that 24 year old with two babes under four, fresh out of a divorce and oh so lost and lonely. Nor am I that stepmother who was desperately trying to make my new blended family work. I am all of that and here I am with two new kids, 13 years later… and guess what? They’re both BOYS. And I couldn’t be more smitten with them.
I feel like I’m in the middle zone now. That zone between what I once knew and what I know now. That period where I can change a diaper with my eyes closed but I also know the fragile depths of the teenage years. As I look ahead, I can only envision what my children will grow up to be. And as I’m in this moment, I can only try to shape that for them now with our own version of parenting. I’m just winging it like I always have, yet now it’s just with a little hindsight in my back pocket and I may or may not know myself a little better.
Motherhood isn’t always about the kids. Sometimes it’s about the mamas. The first time mamas who think they know what they’re doing and the second time mamas who still feel like they have no idea what they’re doing. Its about the mamas with no one else. It’s about the mamas overwhelmed by EVERYONE else. It’s about the mamas going through a divorce. It’s about the mamas rebuilding a life. It’s about the mamas just trying to get by. It’s about the mamas who are grieving. It’s about the mamas who haven’t held their children yet.
And it’s about the mamas who are still on the journey.
We love our kids but sometimes, every once in a while, amidst everything life throws our way, between every waking moment that we’re taking care of babies and feeding big kids, after the laundry is done and the dishes are washed, after mama has taken care of everything else…. we have to remind ourselves that this journey is still about mama.
