I grew up an only child, so I always wanted to have a bunch of kids. I always had to play and do a lot of things by myself, and I knew I didn’t want my children to grow up that way. I wanted them to experience that fun household where there’s always something going on, noise being made, food being cooked, tv and music always blasting, a birthday to celebrate, or an event to attend. I knew that I wanted to be able to homeschool them until kindergarten. I wanted all the things! Whew chile. Be careful what you wish for….Sheesh!!
I must admit, me and husbae didn’t start our family off in the most conventional way. Things were really rocky at first. We had my first son, Trenton, under some of the most unheard of circumstances. So because of a lot of extra drama, chaos and confusion, my motherhood journey started off kinda rough to be honest with you. We moved from Texas to California and back to Texas all before my baby boy was two years old. Somehow we overcame the hurdles in those first couple years and before long, I was pregnant again with little brother.
After having my second son, Grayson, in my quest to “get my own money”, I decided to start a home daycare. I didn’t realize it then but I was experiencing postpartum depression. I was using the IUD as birth control and it had my hormones all out of wack at the same time. So there was a serious combination of anxiety and depression going on. Along with taking care of other’s peoples kids, and not getting paid much for it. I was a brand new business owner out of nowhere and I didn’t have a real clue of what I was doing. I had a huge meltdown. I was ready to end it all. I literally attempted to end it all.
Everything pretty much went downhill from there. Business was not going well and we were forced to move and downsize. Things must not have been all bad because some kinda way, I ended up pregnant again with my third son Frankie. Grayson hadn’t even turned one yet. My entire pregnancy with Frankie was a complete train wreck. And that’s putting it nicely. There were evictions, infidelities, outside babies, screaming matches and a lot of finger pointing. Not to mention all of the emotions that come with being pregnant.
When Frankie came, I think it hit us both like, ok it’s time to get it together. We have three boys now, let’s stop the nonsense. And to be honest I think that was the conclusion that I had come to on my own. Basically we were on two different pages when it came to our “family life”. I often complained that it was all his fault. But was I really ready to love, nurture and honor my family? I didn’t know how hard being a SAHM was until I became one. And at first I fought it. I fought it hard. I needed a job. I needed an income. I couldn’t depend on a man. I needed to have my own stash. I was shamed and looked down upon because here I was a college graduate, that doesn’t want to work. My own friends and family would call me dumb, lazy, and crazy. But why is it that when white moms stay home with their kids, it’s praised and honored? It’s important that we erase that stigma for black SAHMs. We work a full time job. And we are paid in life experiences that money can’t buy.
A couple months after Frankie’s first birthday, I found out I was pregnant again. I was so excited! I wanted another boy! How cool would it be to have four boys! I thought. I didn’t even hide the news, I told everybody around me without even thinking about it. I already had three healthy happy children. I had three smooth, easy-going pregnancies, with safe and swift deliveries. This was going to be another piece of cake. Another walk in the park. I continued on like I normally do when I get pregnant. Stopped eating this, can’t drink that. My husband always laughs at me because I can stop drinking cold turkey the second I find out I’m pregnant, but any other time I act like I can’t live without my wine (it’s a necessity with multiple children right?) So I called my doctor to schedule my first prenatal appointment and carried on like usual. We already had names picked out, we had a special song we sang to Frankie to prepare him for the fact that he wasn’t going to be the baby anymore, this was happening!
On Thanksgiving morning I got up and started cooking. When I went to the bathroom I noticed some light spotting. I didn’t think much of it. Light spotting is normal. I went to the grocery store for some last minute items that I had forgotten the day before. Came home and went to the bathroom again. The spotting wasn’t light anymore. It was getting heavy. Oh my God, I thought. It’s Thanksgiving Day. I can’t say anything to my family today. I can’t ruin this day with my worrying. It’s probably nothing. So I kept on cooking, like nothing was bothering me. And the spotting kept on getting darker and heavier. The next morning I woke up and it was still happening. At that point I knew something was wrong. I called my doctor’s office and they were closed for the holiday. I finally told him, and we decided to go to urgent care. They did an ultrasound and that’s when I heard the news. The baby didn’t make it. I was devastated. I guess I felt all the emotions that most women feel. Hurt, anger, confusion, embarrassment, shock, pain, and probably the worse of them all: like it was my fault. What was wrong with me? What did I do wrong this time? Am I too old?
The months that followed I was a complete wreck. The loss hit me hard. I thought I was hiding it, but I wasn’t. I was like a ticking time bomb 24 hours a day. This was worse than the meltdown right after Grayson. If anybody said anything to me, I went off. I was angry at the world. One day, my man looked at me and said “you haven’t been the same since the miscarriage, and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t help you.” My heart stopped. Oh no, what was I doing to my family? The drinking wasn’t helping, the smoking wasn’t helping, nothing was helping. So I prayed. I told myself that I was not going to let this break me. This was not going to defeat me. This was one of those defining moments that you hear people speak about when they say “such and such changed my life.” I had to take a hard look in the mirror. I had to heal. And the only thing that could help me with that was God. There’s no way I could do it on my own.
I hate to say it, but my biggest mistake early on in my motherhood journey was probably keeping the same circle of my single friends with no kids. They had no clue of my new reality, while I was still looking back wishing to be in theirs. I spent so much time being focused on what I didn’t have, that I was missing out on the fact that I’m actually at home and I get to raise my kids. It’s like I was fighting God against what he was trying to do all along. He wanted to give me the life I wanted when I was a little girl, but I was too broken from my past and my upbringing to even see it. Looking back on it now, yes I’ve always wanted to be a SAHM, but I never knew what that really meant. I certainly didn’t have any examples to go off of. I was raised by a single mom, and she was raised by a single mom. Just like all of my friends growing up. We all needed to heal from the pains we saw growing up. The things we aren’t allowed to talk about. I had to form my own support group of mommi’s of color that stat home with their kids. I got around like-minded women and it was like a whole new world opened up. Getting around the right people is vital for mental health and clarity.
I had to get out of my own victim story. I had to cut everybody off and seek comfort in a higher power. My healing process included (and still does) a lot of praying, crying, asking, fasting, praising, rejoicing, journaling, affirming, meditating, sage burning, and doing all of what it takes to center my thoughts and gain clarity and understanding. I’ll probably never get over the loss completely, but my view of the world and the people in it has changed tremendously since then. I express more gratitude, more love, more kindness and more grace. I understand why this terrible loss happened to me, and I embrace it.
Less than a year later, I was blessed with the chance at motherhood again with my rainbow baby girl. Oh my goodness, I have been in awe! Harmony Aria has made her grand entrance and let me tell you, she sent me on a run for my money hunni! I was pushing for almost 2 hours during labor, but it was worth every single milli-second! My days have been full of hugs and kisses, and cuddles, and sleeping, and nursing, and fussing, and eating, but I am enjoying every minute of it. Harmony has brought so much joy and love and laughter to my family in such a short amount of time, that it seems surreal. I have been taking the time to simply embrace the NOW moment. Everybody just wants to hold her tight! The boys are always running to check on her whenever she cries. They talk to her and sing to her and we’re all just lovin on her.
This mother daughter bond is different. It’s a ball of beautiful emotions that I wasn’t expecting to feel. That’s my baby girl, and I can’t wait to watch her grow up. I’m so thankful that God chose ME to mother and nurture this little angelic soul. I am beyond overjoyed and blessed and thankful to hold her in my arms. This is how I know that God is real.
After life with three boys…I was ready! It’s funny because I wanted a boy with my other three pregnancies. I would cringe at the thought of having a daughter. But this last time I wanted a girl before I even conceived. I’m so excited for this new journey in my life. There’s so much I want to give and share with her. I am beyond grateful for this new assignment that God has given me. I am giving her my all daily.
Full transparency, this Coronavirus has come through and uprooted my little life all over again. Just when I was finally starting to feel some sense of normalcy, our small business has been shut down, and my family has been displaced. My mom stepped in to help out, and I will always be grateful to her for that. But I now know all the reasons why they say don’t mix business, money and family. When the cookie finally crumbled, I was basically forced to choose between my mom and my man. Now the old me would be losing her mind right now. Angry at God, placing blame on everyone else, telling the “woe is me” tale.
But through it all, right in the midst of this storm, I feel at peace. I feel equipped and excited for what’s to come. My family has been through worse and we’ve come out on the other side. This time I have God on my side guiding and directing me. There’s no way I can fail! I’m not making the same mistakes. I’m applying God’s love and wisdom everyday. Responding with His grace and love. Maintaining His level of self-control. I’ve grown and changed in ways that I probably never would have had I not gone through the miscarriage and the transformation that followed. I am becoming the woman I was meant to be. Destiny 2.0 is walking in her purpose! I wasn’t ready before, but NOW I am ready and honored to raise a daughter. I’m here to break generational curses. To change the narrative for my great grand daughters. There is so much that I will be able to teach Harmony. So many life-lessons to share with her. I am beyond thankful and blessed. The favor of God is on my life and He is in control. I look forward to seeing the way He chooses to express His love, wisdom, and power.
“Occasionally weep deeply over the life you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Then wash your face. Trust God. And embrace the life you have.” ~John Piper
I’m looking at my world from a new perspective, with a renewed mindset! Motherhood has taught me infinitely more about myself and God than anything else has. Being a mother isn’t just about what I teach my children, but also what I learn from them. So my motherhood journey in a hashtag is #Mommi2Point0 Until next time Mommi’s.
With light, love and positivity,