This past weekend was pretty perfect- the sun was shining, we spent some much needed time outdoors, and Maddie Mae + I got to watch Dad coach his very favorite sport. We also enjoyed our first good old fashion bbq of the year- complete with delish margaritas, family + friends.
It's weekends like these that make me stop to count our lucky stars, and feel humbled by how blessed I really am.
I started this blog a little over a year ago- the February of my pregnancy, four months before Maddie Mae arrived. I founded L + L as a creative outlet; a way to focus my energy during a not-so-great pregnancy. I had hoped blogging about cute baby clothes and fun recipes would take my mind off of the Morgan-shaped divot I was creating in our bed while I watched Netflix and waited for the little one to arrive. Shockingly, the worries and mandatory rest that consumed my pregnancy left me wholly uninspired, and not such a great writer.
I was also entirely too afraid. Way too scared to voice the fears about my first, fragile pregnancy to the world.
OK, that's dramatic- at that point only my mother and husband would have read them. The world would have had better things to do. But you get the point: I couldn't muster up the courage to put pen to paper, and Lilies + Lambs was barren as could be for several months.
Read MoreHello, my name is Morgan, and I bottled feed my baby. And, what's more: I'm not ashamed of it.
My milk never came, so I can't say this was much of a choice. The decision not to torture myself with lactation consultants, pumping, and triple feeding on the other hand, was.
I tried a week. That's right- just one week, before I threw in the towel, and decided to stop forcing my body to try to do something it might not ever do. The decision was difficult- gut wrenching, in fact, for a person who didn't buy a single bottle before her baby arrived; confident she would breast feed for months, or maybe even a year.
Read MoreSeven month ago, just two and a half months into motherhood, I wrote about the ten things that had made my transition into life as a mom as smooth as it could be.
I stressed the importance of laughter; of taking pictures and asking for help. I encouraged myself and other new moms to take time for ourselves; and to sweat as soon, and as often, as possible. And I made a pact to be patient- not only with myself, but with my husband and child as well.
Now, almost ten months a mom, I look back on this list and I still firmly believe in all of these mantras.
Read MoreBeing a mom has been a dream of mine since I was a child. My mother stayed home with us four kids - yikes, 4?! Hers was the first face I saw in the morning. She cooked us breakfast, drove us to school, and picked us up at the end of each day. She watched our week-day sporting events, brought us forgotten projects, was there for every afternoon concert, and cooked us a hot meal every day. She was so happy to do it; and it showed. It appeared effortless for her. It was her calling, for sure. Her joy in it was infectious. We were thick as thieves, and I always knew I wanted to be there for my own daughter in that very same way
Read MoreSports have been a part of my life since the day I was born.
My mother and grandmother were stellar tennis players. My grandfather was the Varsity football coach at Homestead High School- Alma mater of one Steve Jobs. And my father was an incredible baseball player; just like his father before him. So it's fair to say athletic prowess runs in the family.
I have always been a fairly decent athlete. I swam and played tennis since the moment I could walk. I made it to Counties in breaststroke, and won the coaches award for synchronize swimming- laugh if you will, but that sport takes coordination. I played lacrosse and field hockey in high school, and was club tennis champion at the age of fourteen. I've always been athletically decent; I've never been athletically AMAZING.
Read MoreMy relationship with infertility is a tumultuous one.
Difficult as my road to motherhood was, in the scheme of things it was relatively short. Six months of trying on our own, seven months of IUIs and success after one round of IVF.
Throughout this struggle to conceive, I, sadly, encountered people that dismissed my struggles because of this brevity- comparing my "short" journey to their own, unfortunately, longer ones.
But I don't believe in ranking people's challenges- particularly when it comes to creating a family. Whether you struggle with infertility for seven months or seven years is irrelevant in my mind- it is an impossible pain to want to create a life and, for whatever reason, struggle to do so.
But boy, the fight is so worth it.
Read MoreWow. Yesterday was a doozy.
It was the kind of day that made me want to crawl back in bed, and just wait for tomorrow come. But I'm a mom, and like that cold medicine commercial points out- we don't get days off.
Read MoreI graduated from college in 2007, at the ripe-old age of 23. I had a handsome boyfriend, parents that still provided a roof over my head, and I drove a BMW all the way from Atlanta to Santa Barbara- where I would live beach side for the next several years. I was young, carefree, and just a bit cocky; and I was blindly ignorant to the abyss of uncertainty the next few years would bring.
Read MoreWe decided to marry in a church. The Catholic Church we both grew up attending; the one my husband's parents were so involved with; where we were both baptized, and then our daughter after us. A beautiful, sentimental location for both of us; but it came at a few creative costs...
Read MoreOh, how life is different with offspring. I've written a lot about the transformation from party of two to party of three- how it has redefined certain words for me, and how the transition into motherhood was so incredible I could never have prepared. And the journey continues. Almost eight months in, and I'm learning every single day. I can't say it always gets easier, but it certainly stays interesting and full of so much joy. Here are a few things I've learned so far...
Read MoreRecently this photo showed up in my FB feed- the number "4" tattoo I got with my sister four years ago.
My husband will tell you the tattoo was for him- that it commemorates his lacrosse number, despite the fact that it predates my knowledge of his very existence.
Instead, this one was for the girls- for my mama, two sisters and myself. Four very different ladies that love each other fiercely and unconditionally no matter where we are in the world.
Read MoreRecently, at a friend's baby shower, I sat sipping my mimosa as the guest of honor joyfully opened all her gifts. She was pressured into the act, doing so as a good daughter and friend does to appease those who live to see a mommy-to-be ooh + ah over burp cloths and onesies.
Read MoreBefore Maddie Mae was born, I stood up on my soap box and denounced the color pink. I was very adamant about the idea that MM shouldn't be forced to like the color, or bows, or hearts or anything too "girly" simply because she was a girl.
Read MoreFour years ago, I woke up out of an emotional fog + decided to make a big change in my life. I was living in California, somewhat lost, in a not-so-fairytale relationship, without my tribe, with no direction whatsoever. Yuck.
Read MoreThe transition into life as a First Time Mom {FTM} is the greatest one I've experienced in the last thirty years- the polarity between my new life and my former being so vast, I couldn't possibly have anticipated the reality of the changes that would take place.
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