The 2 blogging sisters get hacked! Written my Tonya Hernandez & Jamie Isham (both orginally Lightner's)

The 2 blogging sisters get hacked!... (by 2 other sisters)

Howdy all! I’m Tonya, and with the help of my sister (a different Jamie) we’ve hi-jacked this blog for a post. No worries, Jamie and Jessica aren’t tied up somewhere in a dark theatre with sticky floors (see “We should NOT be allowed in public together” post from January 9th). We just wanted to join in on the fun! We both love reading Jamie and Jessica’s adventures in life and motherhood, and have been so encouraged by the humorous, sentimental and tear-jerking stories they share.

Onto the post… perhaps we should title it “The Fear Factor”

In October last year, my husband and I went from a young, fun-loving, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants couple… to parents. Sure, we had a dog and lots of kids around us. But even our little 4-legged-trash-picker along with all of our nieces and nephews were NOTHING compared to having our own child. More specifically, a newborn.

See, I’ve been an aunt since I was 16 (thanks to the author of this blog actually). I’ve been the fun aunt and the disciplinarian aunt. And to be honest, the laughing aunt in the corner while her brother uses tongs to change a poopy diaper. That’s right, I refused to change a poopy diaper once JUST to watch my oldest brother squirm. You should have seen him dry-heaving like it was the worst thing he’d ever seen or smelled (mind you, this is the same brother who I saw help a cow struggling to birth a calf… let’s just say I couldn’t see his arm). Anyway, I digress. The point is, I’ve only ever dealt with other people’s babies… you know the kind that come with a long list of ‘how tos’ and ‘after the bottle just put him down for a nap’ directions. And usually after about 6 months of their mamas working HARD to get them on some sort of an eat-sleep-play-schedule. And now I’m the mom. Crap. Oh and speaking of poop, just kidding… I won’t go there. If you’ve had a baby, you know.

Back to fear. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. I returned to work when my little guy was just 6 weeks old and feel incredibly guilty about that. I love him so much, but I do love my job too and need keep working. So of course I fear I am ruining his life by not staying home with him. The sitters ask me questions like “do you want me to wake him up to feed him on the 3-hour schedule?” and I say, “I don’t know.” I know he needs more sleep, but I also want him to eat and be healthy. Ugh. What’s a mom to do? I’m pretty sure I’m ruining his life. Today, I called my sister to let her know that my husband and baby were on their way, and that he would need to eat the ‘emergency formula’ from the diaper bag today, since I forgot to pack breastmilk. Poor kid, his whole day was probably ruined! Or… perhaps it’s not the end of the world. He’ll just down the bottle of formula and smile. He’ll wake up after he’s good and rested, and eat. He’ll know how much mama loves him, because she tells him every time she changes his diaper, feeds him, and prays with him at bedtime. I’m getting better at letting go of those mom-guilt fears with each passing day, and after each failure (oh and there is a growing list – like leaving the bottle out of the diaper bag. FORGET back-up formula, how is the sitter supposed to FEED the kid if you don’t pack a bottle?!). This mindset has been developed over time of course. Through reading some of Jamie’s blogs, talking with her and many other experienced mamas out there. And of course all the wisdom from my own Jamie (I am blessed to have a sister AND a sister-in-law named Jamie). We all have a ‘Jamie’ in our life. Whether yours is actually named Jamie like mine and Jessica’s are, or not… we have them. A cheerleader. An encourager. That person that says just the right thing when you need it. And here’s what my Jamie sent me from her journal about her first born…

The Baby Blues are all about FEAR! Fear that when he cries and I can't make him content that he is going to develop colic. Fear that I'm a bad mom and I don't know what I'm doing. Fear that when we have a poor nursing session it'll just get worse and worse every time. Fear that I can't have the strength for both him and my husband’s daughter at the same time. Fear that life will be this chaotic FOREVER. Fear that my precious parts will hurt forever or get infected. Fear that I'll never be able to think straight or remember anything ever again. Fear of being alone with him and not having the help I need. Fear of being tired forever. Fear he'll get attached to the pacifier and be inconsolable without it. Fear that my stomach will always sag like an old man's belly. Fear I'll never be able to go anywhere with him by myself. Fear I'll always be this emotional. Fear that I don't have the strength to make through THIS night. Fear that my house will always be a mess. Fear of inadequacy. Fear that my diet is causing his fussiness. Fear of never having time to curl my hair again. Fear I'll never be able to watch a whole movie again. Talk about just the right thing at the right time. I needed that… and she and I thought there might be some other parents out there that do too. The thing is, we all deal with fear. But you can’t “live” with fear. Fear prevents you from living. It paralyzes you. Fear robs you of all the positive things you have going for you!

Think of it this way…for every 1 minute you spend in fear or worrying about something you can’t control, you lose 60 seconds of happiness. Simple math. Now go live. And quit worrying so much.