The Motherhood Journey I Never Expected.

People keep asking me, "How has life been since BabyBear came home?" Is it stressful? Is it amazing? Is it exhausting? The answer is yes, and all of the above. Life has been crazy ever since I got pregnant and had a baby. Motherhood has been everything and nothing like I expected.

When I first found out I was having a baby, I was excited and terrified, excited because I wanted this little one, and terrified because I would be responsible for a whole other human, I also knew my life could never go back to what it was. Even with the fears, I still dreamed of the future of the family my husband and I were building together, and of all the milestones and moments we would share. But at our 12-week appointment, my whole world seemed to fall apart. All those dreams I had built around our little family came crashing down when we found out that BabyBear had a birth defect, an Omphalocele. That single word changed everything, and I felt like my dreams for my family were going up in smoke. That one word meant endless testing, surgeries, and a long NICU stay. It meant stepping into a world I never imagined, one filled with fear, late-night Google searches, weekly doctor’s appointments, and a motherhood journey that was nothing like the ones I had seen in movies or read about in books.

Having an Omphalocele baby is not for the faint of heart, but the nurses, staff, and doctors at Lurie’s made us feel so loved, supported, and empowered. They became an extension of our family, guiding us through the unknown and reminding us that we weren’t alone in this fight.

I spent months not healing from birth in the traditional sense but loving and parenting a baby in the NICU, supporting my husband, and, in silence, fighting my own battle with postpartum depression (PPD). We hear about PPD, but nothing prepared me for how dark and twisted it could be. My biggest struggle wasn’t just the sadness or the exhaustion, it was the overwhelming emotions, everything was felt x10, and the biggest fear I had was the fear of death. Not my own, but the deaths of those I loved. I lived in constant fear of losing my husband, my child. Every time the phone rang, my heart stopped. Every time the monitors beeped in the NICU, my breath caught in my throat. PPD is often treated like a dirty little secret, like something we need to fix in private. Society tells us that motherhood should be pure joy, and when it isn’t, we feel like failures, and this makes us stay quiet even more and try to soldier through these moments on our own. I hated admitting that I needed help, but I finally did because I knew I had a support system that would be there for me, to hold me, to pick up what I could no longer carry. I turned to modern medicine because, sometimes, no amount of sheer willpower or positive thinking can change what we’re going through. And that’s okay. Reaching out for help isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength, and it saves our lives in the end.

My foray into motherhood was anything but typical. It was filled with moments of fear, exhaustion, and heartbreak. But it was also filled with growth, resilience, and boundless love.

My relationship with my husband has been tested and strengthened in ways I never imagined because we only had each other, and instead of pushing each other away, we held on tighter. We loved harder. We celebrated our amazing little family, even when things felt impossibly difficult. And now, 324 days after BabyBear was born (260 of which were spent in the NICU) I can say with certainty that I love being a mom. Even on the hard days, even when the exhaustion feels overwhelming, even when the fear creeps in. I love this journey, this new chapter of my life, and everything that comes with it.

You can see the awe all over my face.

Motherhood isn’t just about the picture-perfect moments. It’s about the real, raw, messy, beautiful journey. And I wouldn’t change a thing.