My name doesn’t have much meaning. In fact, I was almost a Stacy. My older sister Kristen and I have always said we should have switched names, for she is far more “Jill” than I ever was. I had lavish dreams of having a unique name-Azure, Jade, something that made people say, “one more time?” I decided if I couldn’t change my own name, I’d just have to live vicariously through my babies. At 8 I filled my diary with “V” names for my 5 girls: Violet, Vanessa, Victoria, Valerie and Vivian. When I was 10 years old, one episode of VH1’s Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous left me dead-set on naming my children Bentley and Bacardi, regardless of gender. Praise the Lord that phase was relatively short.Read More
(mom days before giving birth to her fourth baby)
Growing up every single night once the clock struck 8:00pm and my mom had cleared dinner from the table and helped with math problems, she announced it was time for her bath. Some evenings as I walked down the hallway, now smelling of sweet soap and lotion, to say goodnight I would find her changing into her light blue nightgown baring her stomach lined with marks. Silvery purple marks lined the edges of her stomach, crawling a little bit up the sides and dancing around her naval. The older I became, the more I understood those marks meant she had been stretched. Stretched probably in ways she never would have imagined, and each stretching left visible evidence of its difficulty and her strength.
I am a mother of a three month old baby boy. Three months. I can’t say “It seems like I blinked and here he was-three months old,” because I am fully aware of each hour I have spent with him. The days seem to have stretched out so that each hour is double what it once was and yet I wouldn’t slow it down if I had the power. I adore this child of mine. He is hilarious, sweet as can be and such a testament of God’s grace. That being said- man oh man has he rocked our world. Read More
Our sweet boy is one month old. I’m not a person who finds every month to be monumental, but arriving at four weeks is truly something to celebrate. Something to marvel at. Something that in those first few hazy days seems to be a lifetime away.
Our beautiful son is one week old today. Last night, after being up with him for what seemed like the hundredth hour of the evening, I realized what love is. As I waddled back from the bathroom and looked at my husband resting with Oshiolema sleeping on his chest, I truly realized how much our lives have changed. My Boppy was on the couch draped in a burp cloth, A table stocked with water, snacks and a breast pump was off to the side and we had the TV on a volume that was practically quieter than mute. “This is crazy.” I whispered. My husband smiled back at me, “No, this is love.”Read More
Well, friends, here we are. I am 38 weeks pregnant. My belly has grown exactly 15 inches since May. My hips refuse to stay in place, I have a new stretch mark every day, my nights are just short of sleepless and my waddle is almost comical. As I was draped over my exercise ball last night, sharing with my husband just how badly I wanted to have this baby, he whispered, “it’s almost over, love. But stay present in these moments, they’re special too.”