How I Really Feel About Having a Second Baby

Milli Fox, Toronto based lifestyle blogger and influencer reflections on her mixed emotions about having a  second baby.

All around me are reminders of the amount my freedom is about to be greatly diminished.  It’s starting to sink in, how I really feel about having a second baby.


I’m so overjoyed about the life I’m carrying inside me. For more reasons that I’m actually willing to share. But one huge one being, I can already feel the healing having a daughter of my own will bring. 


Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not expecting my daughter to heal me of any of my past traumas. I’m just saying, due to the fact that I missed out on a healthy mother and daughter relationship combined with the fact that I know I’ve done enough work personally to provide my daughter with the closest thing to that possible, I will be able to have these new, incredible, amazing experiences with a little girl of my own.

 
So that I can learn and know how beautiful that truly can be. 
I’ve often looked at friends who have this with mothers with envy- so to be able to create a healthy bond with my children will be the biggest honour of my lifetime. 


However, it doesn’t make facing what’s directly ahead of me seem any easier. 


An empty crib, a quiet bedroom. A sleeping toddler. All of these things remind me that stress is about to descend upon me in a major way. 


Will I handle it better this time? Will my marriage fair better this time? 
How much older am I going to look in two years?


Will I make it through the first 6 months, living with my in-laws and this baby with my mental health in tact? 


Will living in the suburbs make me feel even more isolated than I did when I first became a mother?


How will my son take it? How much pain will I feel for him as he sees me divided and ripped away from him? 


Will I resent breastfeeding from day 1 or has it been long enough since I stopped with my son that I’ll feel ok about it for the first while?


Will bottle feeding work this time? Will I be chained to this baby for the first year of its life the same way I was to my son? 


There are so many more questions that I have. Yet so many more things that I feel more sure of this time. 


It’s such a strange feeling. 


I know we don’t all feel this way expecting our second or third child. I see many women that seem full of pure glee and excitement. 


I feel all those things too. I’m so excited to snuggle that tiny body. And to look her in the eye and feel that incredible soul connection.


For the blessing of spending our lives together. 


This is the most important thing in the world. 


But I’m so scared, in such a new way. 


When you head blindly into something like parenthood and you have no idea what to expect, that’s one thing. But an educated fear? Oy. Its a different kind of edge.  That’s why I wanted to share how I really feel about having a second baby, because I’m sure I’m not the only one with these mixed emotions.


So I sit, waiting for the day- a day I’m truly looking forward to, that I become a mama of two. 


I know my heart will grow. Hell, I know I’ll even shit my pants (pants I won’t be wearing). 


But out of it I all, I will expand. 


Motherhood has made me into a person I am so proud of. It’s shown me my true strength and power. It’s shown me my ability for grace, for patience and for transformation. 


Those things never come with a walk in the park. 
So while I’m expecting this journey to be difficult af. I’m excited to come out on the other side of it. 


Here’s to the next 3 years (and a lifetime)! 

XO Milli Fox

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Repeat After Me: I Am Not My Mother

Well are you?

Depends on what you mean when you say it. Are you the guardian of your own well being? Are you the nurturer of your spirit and soul? Are you sheparding your own growth as an individual?

If yes, then maybe you are your own mother- but you are not YOUR mother, or the woman who raised you. Say it again.

We all have so many fears about repeating the mistakes that our parents made. And as wives and mothers ourselves, we have very special fears about becoming our mothers, especially now. We judge them so harshly for their shortsightedness, their weaknesses, their insecurities and their blindspots.

But they were supposed to be perfect for us, and for our fathers and our brothers and sisters too, weren’t they?

They weren’t supposed to make us feel small or ignore us or overshadow us- or tell us things about us that weren’t true but made us believe them anyway.

And we’re still supposed to keep them on a pedestal.

The funniest thing about “the mother” is that they are untouchable, yet still the most criticized, revered, but also judged people in our world.

You only have one mother you know, you’ll regret it when she’s gone.

But will I?

I’ve written this entire post so far in the removed- but I’m about to get personal.

I have mommy issues. If you do too, you’ll get it. Cause trying to explain to anyone else who doesn’t is like trying to explain the grammatical system of a Slavic language.

The relationship I have with my mother is the most complex relationship I’ve ever and likely will ever experience. Your mother is supposed to be your world- and when she gives you a really backwards world, it affects absolutely everything.

The thing about my mother is that she held it together really well for a long time. When she was my age she was in almost the identical spot that I’m in- and that shit is scary as fuck. You’ll understand when you hear what happened next.

She had her own business, she owned a home with my father and was in a happy marriage, she was pregnant with her second baby, she was healthy and fit and everything seemed to be coming up roses.

Then her mother died. Two weeks before my brother was born, and everything crashed.

I learned recently that my grandmother had almost the exact same experience. Her mother died when she was pregnant with my mother. If you’ve ever heard of ancestral trauma- that probably sounds pretty fascinating.

The funny thing is, when my grandmother was on her death bed- she said, don’t treat Emily the same way I treated you….As you may infer, they also didn’t have a great relationship. My mom left home at 15.

I think what happened after that could have easily been labelled postpartum depression. But it was likely just the straw that broke the camels back… along with some insane timing. First came the depression, then the drugs, then the suicidal tendencies and the cycle went from there.

How can such a vibrant, smart, funny, strong woman go from having everything to being a skeletal shell of who I used to call mom?

I guess it goes back pretty far.

The thing is, I’ve tried everything. I’ve spent so many years trying to repair this relationship. But everytime I laugh, or tell a joke or sometimes when I look in the mirror I see her.

No matter how much a parent can hurt you- it’s so hard to cut off all feeling. It’s the same thing with any abuser isn’t it?

When it’s your own mother it’s incredibly hard to let yourself go and to live life freely not shackled to the what if’s. What if she gets better, what if it’s different this time, what if I do regret it?

I’m coming to this crux, because I know she’s not well. I know she doesn’t have much longer and I’m so afraid. We’re planning to have another baby- but the problem is, I don’t trust her.

I don’t trust her for a second. And I keep hearing Brene Brown’s voice in my head saying don’t show people your “stuff” if you don’t trust them.

She has always and will always hurt me. She’s volatile. I can’t have her near my family.

So the choice is this, do I let her in at all or do I keep my walls up and protect my fortress? I have no way of knowing what’s right and neither does anyone else. It’s all about boundaries- but what are the right boundaries to set and how do you know when to give a little? When to have a little more compassion as to not seem like an ice queen?

How do you not become your mother?

I’m preparing for a battle and I don’t know whether to go in guns blazing or to lay down my weapons.

All I know is- I am not my mother. Whatever I decide, whatever YOU do or say to try to help me with this decision, no one is my mother and that’s the reality of the situation.



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Fine Lines & Contradictions

Oh lord we walk the line. Everyday and everyway. As women, as mothers- it tears us in two. Speak your truth they say, but don’t disrespect your elders and don’t offend anyone. Take care of yourself they say- but they don’t offer a hand. Self-care, what is it? A face mask, a warm bath, or an appointment with your therapist? But is it for the ego or the soul?

Do you know yourself? Do you trust yourself? How can you be sure? Too much wondering and worrying. How do you have boundaries that are healthy and how do you enforce them? Everyone wants you to be the nice girl. Where do you find inspiration without comparison and how do you stop the feelings of unworthiness that always seem to creep in when searching for “inspiration”? How do you share your story without seeming indulgent? How do you know when you’ve shared too much or even if it’s possible? Some people with applaud you and thank you and others will tell you you’re searching for attention. You can never do it right. How do you let go of “right”? How do you operate outside of right and wrong? Even if you logically acknowledge that there truly is no right or wrong, we are beings attached to beliefs. We’re all attached to what we think is right and wrong.

Love your family they say. Open your heart they say. But stand up for yourself and don’t let anyone tell you you’re not worthy of love. Isn’t it usually our families that make us believe those lies in the first place? How do you open your heart to the people who harderned your heart in the first place?

I just want to write and hit publish but I feel like I need to provide answers. I need to show you I have things figured out.

Sometimes everything just seems like a contradiction. Like I’m always balancing on these fines lines of ambition and self absorption. Of love and losing myself. Of strength and cold heartedness. Of mindfulness and blindness.

How can I justify any of this? I can’t.

But one thing I know is- that’s not the point. The experience IS the point. The expansion and the new questions that bubble up ARE the point. The path is the point. Paying attention is the point.

There really is no finale.



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Dear Sister: An Ode to You

sisterhood, womanhood and motherhood in 2018

Dear sister, do you see me?

I do this for you. I don’t have a real sister. I don’t have a real mother. I’m looking for family in you.

I share my pain so you can lighten yours, I share my story so you can hear yours.

Dear sister, are you my village? My online, digital, semi-anonymous village? I need one. We all do.

Dear sister, I know you’re hurting. Sometimes you can’t feel it because you’ve built the walls up so high.

You don’t know how close you can get because you’re afraid of what we’re saying behind your back. You’re afraid we’re judging you and that we’re just waiting for you to say or do one wrong thing so we can laugh.

Dear sister, I am you.

Dear sister, how can you be the only one responsible for raising the next generation when no one is there to hold you up?

Dear sister, I know you feel the cracks in your foundation, the leaks, the corners that are crumbling.  But I also see you doing what you can to fill those holes and keep it together.

Dear sister, you’re not alone. We all want to be close to you, we’re all just so afraid. How did we get so divided?

Dear sister, I’m afraid to even call you sister because I’m worried you’ll tell me I know nothing about you and I have no right. But none of us are truly that different.

Dear sister, I know you’d do anything for me.  I know you’re standing in the wings waiting for me to ask for your help- but I’m too proud.  And if you do offer it without my request, you’re worried I might not appreciate it. You’re guarded, I’m guarded.

Dear sister, none of us want to need anybody, but we can’t hide that we do. We’re so ready for anyone to need us, but so afraid of the rejection.

Dear sister, we’re trying to come together.  We’re trying to mend the wounds of separation.  We’re trying to be present and to figure out this new world we live in.  We’re all on the cusp of the old ways and the new ways. We’re trying to do it right.

Dear sister, I have faith. I know we’re moving in the right direction. You’re strong and I know you just need to hear it more often. You’re a warrior and a hunter and a soldier of love and protection and shelter.

Dear sister, I’m reaching out to you. I’m giving you a sign. We’re in this together.

Dear sister, I’m afraid of you but I love you and I know we can heal these wounds.

Dear sister, I’m in are you?

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Do You Practice Having Fun?

I wish I could put on Rosen goggles sometimes.

It’s such a shame as we get older how we see so much less winded in he world. The magic is never gone, we just forget how to notice it.

I’ve been doing some digging lately- and the idea of joy keeps coming back to me. Followed by the ideas of fun, laughter, dance, play and creativity. All of these things bring joy into your life- but we deem them to be much less important than so many other tasks in our day to day.

The major issue is, the most meaningful part of our lives are the connections we have with the other people in our lives. And while we’re all so busy focusing on the “important stuff” we’re forgetting to take into consideration that the most memorable, heart touching moments we share with those we love can only come when we make the space for the fun, laughter, dance, play and creativity. You are literally starving yourself and the ones you love of these incredible moments for connection by ignoring these things.

But the thing is… if we’re not used to being care free in the way children are- we might freeze up even if we do get the opportunity to play or to dance. Today I was thinking about how much I used to dance and how now when I try I feel stuff and awkward.

And I think we feel stiff and awkward when it comes to all of these things because they require practice. The word practice keeps coming up for me lately. Yoga practice, mediation practice etc. It’s not like you do them because you’re already good at them- you have a practice evause you are doing literally that, practicing. The same way you would with a musical instrument or a sport. You have to PRACTICE play, practice laughter, practice dance- by putting them into PRACTICE!!

Lol now I know I’m putting a lot of stress on that word. But the only way to practice something is to make the space and time for it.

Have you ever tried to fake laugh and it ends up making you laugh for real?? Try it. It’s a really good way to get yourself going.

If you have nothing to do for a moment, stop looking around for a task to complete. Put on some music and start doing a stupid dance. Again, it might make you feel really dumb at first, but as you start moving you’re going to loosen up and start feeling the groove.

Creativity is also not something that only some of us are gifted with- it’s something we have to cultivate in the exact same way. Those of who rn corporate creativity into our days are the ones who amplify it within ourselves.

I’ve been watching RuPaul’s Drag Race lately and I’ve been in awe of the creativity those Queens put into their entire performance. I thought back to yesterday when I pulled together a random Halloween costume out of a bin of things and suddenly became a Chuck Cavewoman with a pink wig and with glamorous shimmering pink eyelids, and I was amazed at how much fun it was.

Now what if we didn’t wait for Halloween for the excuse to let our creative juices flow? What if we practiced dance, laughter, play, fun and creativity daily? Even if it were just for five minutes?

I don’t know about you- but I’m feeling lighter just thinking about it.

Wouldn’t it be nice to get a little bit of our kid goggles back?

Comment below with the last time you felt carefree and had fun like the good old days 😁

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