Two Thousand Sixty-Seven
From the Boy Who Brought You "Fuckles"


Everyone -- okay, well, not EVERYONE, but enough people for it to feel that way -- keeps telling me how lucky I am to have the new baby to look forward to. How thankful I must be! What a wonderful thing! What timing, in the midst of so much sadness, to have something so purely joyful and happy to focus on.

The problem is: I don't feel any of those stupid things

The oh-shit moment of general pre-baby non-readiness has morphed into full-on crazy anxiety about the reality of what's coming. Three children. Three! As in, the two I already have, plus ONE MORE.


Obviously, I'm feeling a bit over-pummeled in general right now. I'm trying to grieve for my father, support my mother, adjust to an entirely new diagnosis for my son, juggle a full work load and the four-frillion mundane details of everyday life that we all have going on a regular basis, plus, you know, GESTATE.

There are probably even more people than that phantom "everyone" I mentioned telling me to be gentle on myself, to cut myself some slack, that there is no right way to navigate losing a parent, especially just weeks away from becoming one yourself, either for the first or the third or the Duggareenth time.

However, for anyone thinking they might want to use me as a compass, I should admit that I'm operating at an emotional level just north of basketcase

I keep changing the text-message chime on my phone, hoping to find one that doesn't immediately cause an involuntary shudder of dread; then I go ahead and ignore the majority of messages I get anyway. Watching Noah's attentional difficulties interfere with karate class bring me to tears; I re-read his kindergarten IEP and evaluation results with a sense of relief and yet also know exactly what pages the worst parts are on; then Ezra keeps asking "Where's PopPop?" for some reason; no less than 15 minutes later I'm ready to abandon both of the little monsters in the produce aisle of the grocery store. 

I've typed out and deleted more paragraphs as part of this entry than I can count. The whining! Oh, it's not any more tolerable from myself than it is from my children, who seriously: going to be left to be raised by the organic mangoes if they don't knock it off, so help me God. 

The stress has -- unsurprisingly, I suppose -- taken a toll on my thus-far near-embarassingly "easy" pregnancy. I've lost weight, I'm back to my first-trimester habit of hovering over the toilet bowl shortly after dinner each night, I'm plagued by long and almost-daily stretches of false labor pains, I have a cold I cannot shake, I am constantly light-headed and tired and scatterbrained and sleeping poorly at night thanks to the baby's pointy, elbowriffic gymnastics. 

There's nothing wrong -- my blood pressure is fine, the contractions are meaningless, my doctor is completely unconcerned with barely 10 pounds net gained in 33 weeks and simply reminds me to drink more water and "take it easy," blissfully unaware with how close he comes to getting kicked in the shins whenever he says that.

And I know. Welcome to the third trimester of pregnancy, which is BY EVOLUTIONARY DESIGN, made to be deliberately miserable so you'll want the baby to come out at the end.

But. I don't. Not really. Not yet. 

I admitted this all to Jason yesterday, when we were out having lunch and I once again fretted about the logistics of LEAVING THE HOUSE OUTNUMBERED BY CHILDREN. I admitted that I think about the baby and only feel...dread. Fear. Not happy or grateful or joyful. More like...pangs of ohshitwhathaveIdonetomylife. Proactive disgust at all the messy postpartum business of lochia and leaky boobs and spit-up and all the sleep-deprived gruntwork involved in newborn care, and the fear that I have officially pushed myself past my mothering limit, and am doomed to lose my temper at SOMEBODY, ONE OF THEM, ALL OF THEM, every day for the next 20 years. 

"That's awful, isn't it?" I said.

Jason looked at me from across the table and frowned like a sad little Precious Moments figurine. "Yeah, it is." 

I thought about suggesting that this was not the most helpful reply he could have come up with (RESPOND TO MY HIDEOUS HONESTY WITH LIES NEXT TIME, OKAY?), but I noticed Noah was picking kind of roughly at a tiny little freckle that recently appeared near his thumb. 

"Stop that," I scolded. "You're going to hurt yourself. It's just a freckle. Look, I have them too."

"I don't like fuckles!" he wailed. "I don't want any fuckles!"

Ezra raised his hands over his head and joined in. "FUCKLES!"

I covered my face and tried to not laugh. At which point the waitress -- who had been standing there for God-knows-how long -- cleared her throat and awkwardly asked who got the pancakes with bacon and who got the pancakes with eggs.



It used to drive me crazy when my sick grandmother hinted she wanted me to have a kid before she died in some sort of weird way of replacing her. I guess it's a common meme in society, but it seems to miss the point entirely. I could have a hundred sons and daughters but I still wouldn't have any grandparents anymore. Sigh.


Oh gawd, I was that kid, the way Ezra is acting right now. I was just over 3 when my maternal grandpa passed suddenly from a heart attack. After the 'dust had settled', a few weeks after the funeral, my 3-year-old self realized that if I mentioned grandpa, my mom would cry. This? Was apparently fascinating. (I don't remember doing this.) Then, when the mere mention of him didn't produce tears, I would say something like, "I miiisssss grandpa, mommy." And then my evil mini-self would look closely (an an obvious way, like any 3-year-old) at my mom's eyes. You know, to see if she was crying. Because I had no soul.
All this to say: the antics of toddlers would make you laugh if you weren't grieving, gestating, and freakin' exhausted. You'll laugh again, you'll love them again, but for right now feel free to pass the parenting on, either to the husband, a trusted accomplice or the mangoes. I won't judge, whichever you pick.

Jane Gassner

Here's what I did right after my mother died: spent the entire afternoon at the hair salon having my dark brown hair bleached blonde. I ended up looking like a refugee from a Russian spa. These things make us nuts....

kari weber

Dude. If Fuckles don't fix it... NOTHING will!



I think you are amazing. You are a full time parent to two active children, have four, FOUR writing gigs, are giving birth soon and have just lost a beloved. Uou are not whining,you are relieving stress to friends. You work hard and life is hard right now.

I so admire you!



"Duggareenth" I'm still chuckling over that. And "Fuckles." Whine away, Sweetie, because you still make me smile.


"Duggareenth" I'm still chuckling over that. And "Fuckles." Whine away, Sweetie, because you still make me smile.


Parenting is so hard. And when you add all the extra stuff that you've been going through, I can't even imagine how hard your days are. Know that they will get better. They really will, but don't feel like you have to rush to get there.

Know that it's okay to be stressed about the new baby and diagnoses and being outnumbered. Just today I cried at the dentist because he was nice to my special needs kid. (Crazy much?) Also, I think adding a third kid is 16 times easier than adding a 2nd. You'll be okay. But it sucks to feel the way you feel. I'm sorry.

I kind of like fuckles.


I think your boys are definitely on to something..."fuckles" sums up all manner of things. My assvice: don't let anyone tell you what you should or shouldn't be feeling...your emotions are real and their yours and sometimes you just have to feel them. Whine away...we'll keep listening!


I'm so sorry for this awful, awful time you are going through. It probably doesn't seem like it now, but you are doing AWESOME. And you are going to keep being awesome, except even more awesome because things will start getting better. I hope this difficult time passes quickly for you.


I'm so sorry for this awful, awful time you are going through. It probably doesn't seem like it now, but you are doing AWESOME. And you are going to keep being awesome, except even more awesome because things will start getting better. I hope this difficult time passes quickly for you.


someone in the comments already said this, but i found it helpful too when my mom died. -If its not alright, then its not the end- not so much in the "all's well in the end" sense, but in the, "life is messy, and that's ok" sense. processes is messy, and we will work through. i still think about that 5 years later when i feel like my life is a mess, that this isn't the end, so its ok its a mess!

my mother gave birth to my brother 3 weeks after her mother had died. she said there was so much joy and pain together. life is a mess. thinking of you a lot, thinking about your mother, your family and hoping for good times soon!


One hour at a time, Amy. One foot in front of the other. And whilst you never get over it, you get better at living with it.

My thoughts are with you, chickadee.


Hi Amy,

I have three kids about 2 years apart, and you know what - at the beginning it does suck - it's hard. But you get through it and it just gets easier and easier. You develop a routine, you teach the kids what they have to do when you are out. And sometimes you just come home early. BUT - Eventually they entertain each other and play together and learn to help each other and distract the baby.... Could your mom come down for a while - would that make it easier or be harder? I used to hire a student to come in and deal with what ever I needed for a few hours a week.

This probably does not help - but know that you will get through it.


i had panic attacks in the weeks leading up to our 2 children to 3 children transistion. but, truly, 2 to 3 was SO MUCH EASIER than 1 to 2. i think you will be pleasantly surprised. i hope so anyways.

well, until #3 starts walking, at which time, mayhem ensues. and which is exactly when i got pregnant with #4. [ENTER PANICKED WEEPING HERE.]


You're overwhelmed, and with good reason. There's nothing wrong with what you are feeling right now; it's completely normal. Noah might have a new diagnosis, but he is *exactly the same kid he was before*; the only difference is that now you have a little bit more insight into figuring him out and helping him, and that's a *good* thing. You're stressed about the new baby, but that's because you know what you are in for. It's hard, hard work, but you've done it before and you can do it again, and this time it will be even easier than before, because now you are practically an expert. You've just lost your father, and the grief is enormous, but at least now the ordeal is over, and it is completely okay and normal to also feel relieved about that. It's all going to be okay, it really is.


It's really brave for you to be so honest about how you feel right now - thank you. Hoping that, because it's obvious you love your family very much and because you deserve it, that if there's something - anything - that can help you through this time that you won't turn it down. Tell your doctor how tough this is on you - no one could possibly expect it to be easy at this point. You can't help keep everyone and everything else together if you're not in one piece, right?


Your family has suffered a tremendous loss that can be so overwhelming at times. Your readers are thinking supportive thoughts for you all. I hope that it helps.

As for adding a third child, don't worry. I had 3 in a four year period. The only difference I noticed was when getting ready to go somewhere, by the time the third one was dressed and ready the first one was messed up again. You learn to dress the messy one last.


Nodding, listening, pouring some tea, and handing you tissues.

Tina C.

don't forget one will be in kindergarten all day so you'll only have 2 most of the day. and there's always camps and daycares this summer until school starts...


Just count the days till there can be wine agian. Cause if anyone needs wine its you. *hug*

Remember that its not the Duggarenth time. ( thank god!!)

Also remember that kids say awesome things like FUCKLES! LOL!!


Baby steps. You've got a shitload of fuckles on your plate right now, so just take one small step at a time.


There will be time to enjoy baby #3 later. Until then, feel what you feel, don't apologize for it, and when it all gets too much, yell "FUCKLES" at the top of your lungs. That seems like something that can improve any situation.


Eh - of course the first time you see your son you will be filled with all the joy and love in the world, but today? Today you get to be freaked and tired and sad and stretched thin and fuck it if you aren't singing happy little platitudes of silver linings. There is no correct way to grieve such a fundamental loss, or to prepare for such a big life change, so however you feel right now is just exactly how you need to feel right now.


And yet, through all that you are going thru, you can still take time to make us laugh at duggareenth and fuckles etc...I'm sorry, though, because I can only imagine all of the things that you are feeling right now. You'll make it through somehow, though, and it will all be just the way it should be. ((amalah))


Honey you do this one step at a time. One minute, hour, day at a time. Even one fuckle at a time! Baby three will arrive and you will love him to bits and wish your Dad could see you all now. Then the next day will come and the next. All of which you will survive. Some will be good days, occasionally great days, and some will be shitty beyond belief BUT they will all pass on to the next day which is where you start again. And by the way, remember when you thought you wouldn't manage TWO children? You did though and you will manage three children too, with the same gamut of emotions we all do. That's what motherhood is all about, embracing the imperfections and making it through the day ;-)


Oh honey you get through this one step at a time. One minute, hour, day at a time. Even one fuckle or fuck up at a time! Baby three will arrive and yes you will wish your Dad was there to see you all and be heartbroken all over again that he isn't - but that doesn't mean you won't love the new man in your life. And remember way back before Ezra was born how you wondered how the heck you would mange TWO children? But you did and you will manage three too with the same gamut of emotions we all do. There will be good days, occasionally great days and there will be the obligatory truly shitty days, which you endure hoping the next day will be different. And find it usually is, not necessarily better but different! That's what Motherhood is, learning to embrace imperfection and hoping for the best ;-)


I'm gonna ask you to go back and re-read what lora wrote above, because she hit the nail on the head, and hard.

It's amazing, how we think we understand what an experience of something might be like, until it happens to us. And then we really know. It's why people feel compelled to share their own stories of loss. They've been in that dark place too, and made it out. There is no way to truly understand until you've been there. But people make it. They get through. We're pretty remarkable that way.

The best advice I got after my own recent grief, was "No one is more deserving of your love and compassion than you are. So love yourself. Be kind to yourself".

I wish there were more I could do than to tell you how very sorry I am.


When I was up the duff with number 4 I dreaded the thought of having to manage four kids. I felt ridiculously guilty that I didn't feel or act like I had in previous pregnancies. I knew I wanted my baby but also I knew that I kind of didn't know if I did. My husband has a PhD in saying the worst possible thing when I am seeking support/reassurance. It was hellish. I had "other" things happening in my life that made the addition of a new baby seem like just one more complication to an already overloaded life. You know the ending though, you know that when labour was over and I held her, it was all pretty ok, pretty wonderful really. Sure, there were days where I was like, really? Really? This is what we're doing now universe? But mostly, mostly I just couldn't imagine how I ever managed without her. It'll be okay, I promise. In the meantime you are totally entitled to feel whatever the hell you feel. x


You'll make it one moment at a time. My cousin gave birth to her son 12 hours after she lost her mom. 6 weeks later, she went aboard and adopted her 5th child (a sibling to her first adopted child) that she had agreed to adopt prior to finding out she was pregnant again. She went from being a mother of 2 to 5 in less than 2 years! All have years of infertility treatments


The third one raises himself - honest! (Well, nearly!)


I know your pain....I just lost my Mom to cancer a month ago. Cancer is unbeleivable - it slowly (or quickly, in my Mom's case) robbed her of everything...except her desire to fight. She was such a beautiful person, and my life feels so desperately changed right now. What about my kids?? I wanted them to know her! I can only be comforted with the fact that she has met her Maker, and was ready (at the end) to meet Him. I hope you too have comfort in your Dads loss. People around us say wuch stupid things...or talk too long! A quiet word of sympathy and caring is truly enough. I don't want to hear everyones "death" stories. Arggh! My Mom died. That's it.
I guess we have learned alot dealing with this loss of a loved parent, eh? I want to forget her last moments, because of how terrible they were. I want to remember her before she was sick. It's just so hard. I pray you find strength in the new life in you....take it just one day at a time. That's how I'm surviving, and I hope you can too.

C Goodey

Oh my word. I've been trying to get baby to sleep for more than 3 hours, she's finally sleeping in my arms, and I almost blew it with a guffaw. THANK YOU!


How you feel during pregnancy does not have a necessary correlation with how you will feel after your baby is born.

I felt gloom and doom when I was pregnant with my second child but her birth and the last 8 months of my life have been the most blissful and therapeutic thing that has ever happened to me. Sometimes things are stressful for sure, but 90% of the time I just look in her eyes and life slows down and I feel restored.

And sometimes things are awful, and that's okay too. Within a week of my first child being born I experienced a double bereavement and the postpartum was awful and motherhood was mostly anxiety and resentment and dissapointment. But that too passed and I learned how to handle my baby and delight in him. And it was awful to feel the way I did, but at the end of the day you just do the best you can and sometimes it means accepting the way things are now and waiting for the wave to pass.


You've got a lot on your shoulders and you have every right to feel overwhelmed. Who wouldn't?

All I can say is breathe, and take it one step at a time.

And people are well-meaning but stupid when they tell you to take solace in your new baby, as if that replaces or solves anything. Yes, you have something to look forward to, if only you can get through the stuff you're in.

But you will get through it, even if it all feels like shit right now. One foot, in front of the other...


so, this would probably be awkward, but I'm past child rearing and have moved onto the grandchildren phase. But...I live in Sydney Australia, and if I could work a trip to the US, I'd be happy to come and babysit for a bit for you. I love my grandkids dearly, and have watched your two grow for a few years now. It would just be like part of the family, and you could have whatever spazz attack you wanted to have about not coping on that day and I would be fine. So now I sound like some stalking nanna type of weirdo, but i'm just wanting you to know that some of us commenting love you for how you write, and love your family too.


The truth is, I think, that life is never quite as hard as those moments when life really feels impossible/intolerable/completely out of control. But knowing that does not always help when you're there. Those moments suck. But can I tell you, don't kick me, I envy you for that upcoming birthday. My two sons' birthday may be my favorite days I've ever had. I hope that you have one of those coming. Joyful hormone-induced falling in love with the new baby day.

Sue W.

Ya know what Amy, fuck 'em. Those who have not walked a mile in your shooze have no right to judge how or why or anything else on your grief. It is different for every single one of us.

My body is covered in Fuckles. Being a native Floridian, it kinda comes with the territory! Tell Noah I don't so much like Fuckles either.

And I think Duggereenth may be my new favorite word!


I understand completely.
I completely understand.


Dude. Look at these comments. Think of all the free (and experienced) babysitting you could get if you just asked all us locals for help! Most of us have kids who haven't burned anything down -- yet, anyway. You can trust us! :D


"Duggareenth" is exactly why you are my favorite blog on the internet.

Just like the last trimester is to make you want the baby out, infants are made so adorable you won't want to murder them.


Some ass-vice: A person whose vlog I watch ( talks about how happiness is a choice. You can have the worst week, a month, or even a year, but you can just smile and choose to look brightly on the situation and find the positives. It helps me with perspective when I need it.


I have three kids. The only time I was pregnant and not filled with daily doses of "oh, my god, what have I done" terror was with the first one, and I think that's because I had no idea what I was getting into. I regularly (perhaps not daily, but not never) lose my temper and wonder what on earth is wrong with at least one of them. My greatest fear is that I'm not actually a very good mom.

BUT... I love them. They love me. We love their dad and he loves us. And I believe that in the grand scheme of things, we're doing okay. You are going through hellish stuff and have everyone and their brother trying to "help," which sometimes isn't helpful at all. I'm not saying everything is going be terrific, but I think your level of insanity is appropriate, given what is going on, and it will eventually ease.

I hope it happens soon.


Oh, thank you for being so honest. We waited to adopt our second child for 18 months -- the last 9 AFTER my mom died. I was not close to being in a good place in grieving for my Mom and our extended family was in a severe upheaval for a million, horrible reasons. Having a new baby WAS wonderful, and it DID give us reasons to smile and be happy in the face of all of our grief and chaos. BUT . . . BUT . . . it also made my grief harder in some ways. When I felt some ambivalence toward the baby b/c of my own depression, I got even more depressed. When we were in the middle of some wonderful baby/family moment, the loss of my mother came crashing in even harder. She was missing all of it, and I missed her, loved her and hated her all at the same time.

Anyway, my point is, just be honest with yourself, seek support, and mental health support more than anything. Be especially tuned in to post partem depression this time around! Everything you are feeling is so part of the realm of "normal" with what you are going through.

Peace to all of you.



I'm sending you a big hug, mkay? And a vat of Velveeta crockpot dip.

Oh, and am I the only dirty creep who thought "FUCKLES" was a very interesting take on that whole "angel kisses" thing? What have those angels been up to?!


When my brother died, my oldest was just 8 months old. Everybody told me how lucky i was to have the baby, because the baby would distract me from mourning, that the baby would give me something to "live for and focus on."

Yeah, I was happy to have my son around too....but I would have also appreciated my brother still being around. There is no exchange rate for relatives. One life does not replace another. It freaked me out when my dad turned to me, grabbed my baby and said, "THIS guy is my buddy now." Um...he was not born to replace your dead son, you freak.

There is no rule book about how to feel when you lose a loved one. You feel the way you feel.

As for going from two to three kids, honestly, I know you will hate me, but it wasn't as hard as I expected. My second-born was a month shy of 2 years old when his little brother was born, and so we did have two in diapers, and in cribs, for a while. The nice thing was I could coordinate naps at least once a day, so that my oldest got some time without two little brothers around. The baby stage wasn't so long ago that I had forgotten how to make bottles and handle the baby stuff.

Now I'm expecting #4, and the third one is four years old, and I'm having a leetle bit of what you're describing--FOUR kids? TWICE the number of children than adults in the house? What were we THINKING? Last night I was laying in bed, knowing that all three kids were sleeping through the night tonight, and I would have an uninterrupted night of sleep, and I almost cried thinking about how, in three months, that's not going to be the case.

Then I reminded myself that they don't stay babies forever, and in a year--at the most--we'll be back to some semblance of a new normal, where everybody is mostly sleeping. And then I was able to fall asleep and gain strength for today's panic attack. :)


Duggareenth! Awesome! Sorry I got distracted for a minute.

Is your mom staying with you right now? And would that help at all? I don't know what the dynamics are exactly but maybe she could use a distraction or four. And you could use someone to take care of, well, lots of things.

Also, is there ONE commitment you could maybe let slide for a while? Something that would make you weep with relief (for a change) if you knew you didn't have to do it anymore? Sometimes that's all it takes to shift from basketcase to not-quite basketcase.

For what it's worth, I'm amazed you're still walking around and keeping us updated. Good for you and also thanks. The crazy people in the computer worry when you're not around:)



Bobbi Meister

It is what it is and you are where you are. What you choose to do with it and how you choose to move through it that is where it matters.

Grief also manifests in different ways. Don't be too hard on yourself during these next few tender moments of life. You are allowed to be a little heart-sore even if time won't allow you to wallow like you need.

The Mommy Therapy

I love reading people's suggestions. All the well meaning, loving ideas piled up to paruse and throw out. I feel like I'm reading a list of snippets from my mother's mouth. Lots of love, but sort of like nails on a chalkboard when you feel like shit.

I hope things get better. People suck and things suck...but clearly you are loved. Very loved.

No sugar coating, that third baby will throw you, but I bet you adjust better than you think. I also bet you do lose your temper at all of them (or at least the older two) more often than you do now and then you'll figure it out and it will just be life. Hard and challenging but more or less worth it.

The good news is you have more than 2000 people to lean on, right?

You'll be amazing, even outnumbered and potentially cranky....or you won't, but it's happening anyway. :)


Thank you for the honesty. And the Duggareenth.

I'm due with our third in June, and instead of happiness and anticipation, it's dread. And guilt. With an extra helping of worry about how we'll all handle it.


It seems that everyone is commenting on fuckels and duggareenth so i'll comment on lochia. I didn't know what that was, so I googled it. And SHUDDER! I would be dreading that and the leaky boobs and the newborn gruntwork too even if I hadn't just lost my dad.

I'm reminded of a chart in my Psych 1000 book that listed life's most stressful times. Having a baby and having a death in the family were at the very top. So i'll join in the chorus of people saying this is totally normal and ok and you feel how you feel. It's not awful. I'm keeping you and your family, but especially you since this is hitting you harder than anyone else, in my thoughts and prayers. And i'm so sorry you're going though all this. It truly sucks.


Oh my gosh you sound like I did about five years ago. Third child on the way and my twins weren't even a year old yet. I was quitting my job and terrified. Everyone kept asking me, "Are you ready for this baby to come out?" My response: ready to NEVER be pregnant again. So NOT ready to have ANOTHER BABY. I wish I could tell you it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. It was. (I hope that doesn't freak you out even more.)But oh my goodness how much better it is now. I love, love having three children. But I also know that was just something I had to experience-even if someone had told me how much better it would get I don't think I would have believed them really.


dude - you are dealing with more than an ordinary person should have to deal with.

You need to cut yourself some slack - go through all these feelings - because they are yours and they are valid.

and then when #3 comes and everythign falls into place and your grieving is further along and the summer is here and the sun is shining and Noah pulls off some amazing stunt and Ezra just makes you smile...this anxiety ridden time will all feel like a distant memory.
You will get through this because you're kick ass amazing.


Oh, Amy. This is qualifies as an Absolutely Worst Time of your Life. Hunker down and go into survival mode, sweetie. Don't waste your time being upset with yourself, or worrying about whining. Ask for help, eat junk food, do whatever you need to do to get through. And if the help you need is to vent your exhaustion on your very own blog, we will all listen and sympathize and say "oh, man." Because, holy crap, OH, MAN. All of it sucks except the fuckles. (Am still working on the hole in the time-space continuum for daily naps and cries. No luck yet, though.)

Kim T

So sorry. You don't really need any advice, but everything you are feeling is completely normal. You would have the right to be completely freaked out about baby #3 even without Noah diagnosis and your dad's death. Is your mom up to coming to help out when #3 gets here? It might be a welcome distraction to her. She may rather prefer a break from care giving, but that kind of help might help you both. What about hiring a baby nurse or upping the nanny hours when #3 gets here. Like I said, you don't need advice, but please ask for help. I only have two kids and I have been waiting for the last 11 years for someone to rescue me. Sometime about 6 or 7 years ago, I realized the only way I'd get any help is if asked for it. Your life is screaming out for needing some help. Don't be too proud to ask for it. And please, please feel free to just vent on us your imaginary internet friends. We're all pulling for you. Hang in there.


Out of the mouth of babes, eh? Grieving can best be summed up in just that word: fuckles.

But you can't leave the kids to the organic mangoes. Those bastards will make them wear matching outfits until they're 20.


I love you. I really do. FUCKLES! That's perfect. Perfect timing Noah! Way to go buddy! Good job making Mommy laugh when she so desperately needed it! My (only second, not third) baby was born less than two weeks ago and I'm here to remind you how perfect they are at the beginning. This one won't argue with you for at least a year or two. This one will just want you to hold him and not have an opinion, again for a while. You'll sleep better actually, when he is born because you won't be getting up to pee 983204 times per night. It'll just be like 3-4 times when he needs to eat and hopefully even then you won't need to get out of bed. I'm sure the Internet annoyingly gives you lots of advice and recommendations about everything, and here, I'm about to do it too. But this I think you'll like if you've forgotten:

Lansinoh gel pads are your friend. They have them at Target and for the first week or so after the babe arrives, ahhh, the cooling! The gel! And then after your boobs have recovered from being sucked on, I have Lily Padz. Here's the link. I can't stand the Johnson and Johnson nursing pads because the cotton in them irritates me. But these are silicone miracles.

Hang in there! You're doing a fantastic job with the two big boys, and you'll be fantastic with number 3, I promise. You have a shit-ton of crap on your plate right now so don't forget to cut yourself some slack! I'm giving you a big hug, even though hell, I'm a total stranger to you, but it's just one mom to another. xoxo


Amy, This comment may not win the warm and fuzzy popular vote but I think you should consider finding a therapist now and continue to see that person until you are back on your feet emotionally. You just lost a parent, you have a child with special needs and a toddler and you're self employed in an industry where thousands of strangers form judgments about your personal life. What you’re feeling is normal and completely understandable, but that fact isn’t necessarily connected with your ability to cope. Can you muddle thru? Probably. Is that going to be the best thing for your kids? Maybe not. Find someone who specializes in post-partum depression because when you add your post-delivery hormones to the mix it’s going to be hard for your family – who are themselves grieving, to give you the support you are going to need. I’m sorry for your loss and I hope you begin to feel at least a little excited about the baby soon.


You are a loving, caring, compassionate woman, mother, and daughter. There is nothing awful in there and this cannot be classified as whining. Just because something is overall a good (like having another wanted child) doesn't mean it doesn't have hard, hard, difficult aspects to it....and it certainly doesn't magically cancel out other horrible stuff (like grieving the loss of a parent).
Life isn't arithmetic. We don't get to apply the commutative principle and move things around and it all balances out, hunky dory. There is joy in your new boy to go along with the panic at having three whole humans to be responsible for and still just beginning to process the loss of your dad.
Please, please, please be kind to yourself. Give yourself the space to feel terrified and upset and not always "third baby!!" joyful.
This is all so very hard.


It's all going to be ok! It's going to suck big time, for maybe even a long time, but in the end it's all going to be good.

May I suggest a private drive to an area where you could actually scream out loud for a bit? It might help relieve some of the stress.


I am very sorry for your loss. I well remember the overwhelming feeling of a new (my second) baby coming and the complete inability to enjoy the anticipation. The beauty was that my dread made the actual baby part so much nicer because I was not expecting any enjoyment but it was June and I had a healthy beautiful baby and we were outside all the time and I was off work and it was the happiest summer of my life. So my advice is to take summer off your job(s) if you can, get some help with the older boys, and let yourself heal this summer. Marigolds, petunias, and pea plants can do wonders for a soul and are amazingly easy to plant even with a baby strapped to you!


I wanted you to know that your dad taught me in High School (yes, I'm old!). And it is him that I partially credit (along with my very-foreign, English-loving grandmother) for my love of this language. He was an inspiring man and I thank him sincerely.


Fuckles for the win! I am sorry it sucks right now. I'm sorry for all of it.

I promise that you'll be fine with three kids. And man, at least they have the organic mangoes as parental stand ins. It could be worst, you could have delicious essentially nutrient free fruit roll ups.


I just want to say thank you for being so refreshingly honest! I'm so tired of all of my friends and FB friends talking about how wonderful their lives are and how beautiful and smart and well mannered their kids are! It just makes me feel like a horrible mom. I wish people would be honest! I also have a special needs child and a baby and it is freakin hard! My patience runs out a lot and I feel horrible. I'm just glad that you know how I feel. I don't know any other parents of special needs kids except you, so you are my internet friend in that respect. Thank you for always making me feel better! I wish there was something I could do for you in return. :)


Your Mom (and Dad) must be so proud. Even with ALL OF THIS going on, you're still very, very funny. I don't think you try - it comes natural - that's why it's so funny!

15 years ago, I found that the most difficult part of my Mom dying is that life goes on. Thank God for that.



OMFG. Hilarious...that's why we have kids.



It's not whining, it's you having the guts to share with us your personal journey through what has to be one of the hardest times of your life.

Enjoy the fuckles when you can and time and grieving will make everything else manageable. You will do it. Not every moment will be a shining example of perfect parenting, but you will raise three loving and perfect-for-who-they-are little boys. Promise.


you are not whining. the simple fact that you are typing complete sentences after all the emotions you must be going through should warrant you some sort of chocolate and after baby wine prize in my book.


The way you feel right now sounds pretty normal to me, given the circumstances. It IS awful, as in, awful for you to have to go through all this stress and pain at a time when you should have the opportunity to feel more joyful (or at least to ONLY be stressed out by the idea of being outnumbered by the tiny people, and nothing else). But it's not awful as in "You are a terrible mother and a bad person!" which I think is what you mean by awful. You're a human being, Amy. It's okay to feel sad. It's okay to feel scared. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. It's even okay to feel like this baby is coming at a bad time. I mean, that's TRUE. This is a bad time for you. You are having a bad time. It's not anyone's fault that you're having a bad time. Not yours, or the baby's, or anyone else's.

I recommend eating lots of chocolate. Hey, it's HEALTH food, at this point. And also: the best thing anyone did for me after my stepmother died was follow me around for a while and make sure I actually got dressed and ate things and such. If there is someone around willing to do that sort of thing for you, let them, and do not let yourself feel guilty or silly or childish about it.

I wish I could give you a hug.


You sound human. The awful thing is how life throws intense joy and sorrow at us without spacing them apart so we can fully experience each one separately. You can be happy and sad and conflicted. We get it.


Amy, your honesty is refreshing. Life isn't lollipops and rainbows all the time which sucks but there's no point in trying to hide what we feel. For what it's worth, I think you're awesome. :)


I have one child. One. And I remember being seven months pregnant, and thinking the exact same thing about my son's impending arrival, and then the crushing, overwhelming guilt at feeling that way. But you know what? He showed up, and I felt silly for even thinking that. But it's what I felt at the time.

My point? You go ahead and feel as scared, or unprepared or whatever. Because you're ALREADY an awesome mother, and this new baby is so incredibly lucky to be joining your family. And when you see his little face, and smell that sweet head, and when he wraps his hand around your finger for the first time, all of this will change.

And as someone who lost her own father to cancer nine years ago, I can tell you that running the complete gamut of emotion from relief to anger to guilt to just bone-breaking sadness - often in the span of ten minutes - is normal, and justified and TOTALLY OKAY.

You've got a whole community of people rooting for you, and we'll all be here for you if you need us. ((HUGS))


Sorry - didn't read all of the comments to see if I'm repeating someone else's sentiments but wanted to chime in and say: You're very brave for admitting to your feelings which are very real and human. I had a lot going on at the time and remember dreading the birth of my second son. I couldn't see past the work and the sleep deprivation and the work and the breast milk and omg the WORK. It was a lovely surprise to birth him and realize "Oh YA, the looooooove"


My grandma - who had 4 kids and 5 pregnancies and is quite possibly the most patient and wonderful person I know - gave me this advice recently:

"all your kids are shits when you're pregnant"

I'm sorry that you are going through so much right now...


Every night I pray to "whoever-the-hell", that people who are hurting so badly have a "fuckles" moment.


You are amazing. I can't even imagine your feelings and haven't ever experienced anything like your situation, but I have been reading you for a long time and just want to say, I am constantly amazed by how funny you manage to be when I would probably be curled up in fetal position. Not that you don't probably do that too...Just...I am sending you good thoughts.

And I don't know what kind of sleep aids might be approved during pregnancy, but I just kept thinking as I read this that you need a good long sleep. Not that sleep can make things any better or less hurty or scary, but at least you might feel more capable of dealing with a little rest. Please please don't take that as assvice, it's more like I am thinking about what would help ME and hoping that there is something that could help you get some rest so that you might feel a little relief.

Praying for you and yours


my theory is that children expand or contract so as to suck every molecule of maternal energy in the room. Using this theory 1 kid, 2 kid, 3 kid, 4 kid... it is all the same deal.

I found 3 EASIER than 2 because the older two formed a dyad and went away and played together because THERE WAS NO OTHER OPTION. When you bring home the second there is no playmate for the first and no precedent for an interloper. So don't think introducing the third will be as bad as introducing the second... you are on a roll now and the opportunity cost of each child goes DOWN.


Getting help with the boys and allowing you time to rest and grieve would probably be the best thing for you. It is a difficult thing you are going through and it is hard for others to understand unless they have been there too. I wish you and your family all the best. Remember it is good and alright for you to laugh occasionally.


I've been a huge fan of your blog for years (like, 5). I found out I was pregnant right around the time you did, and I was due June 2. Unfortunately for me, I lost my baby. I know you are having a hard time, with so many things going on in your life, but please be thankful for the life you are about to bring into this world. I understand how you are feeling, but please consider all of those people who have lost a baby, and then rethink your perspective. (Not to say you should not express such feelings...)


You don't know me, but I am a new reader and love your blog. I don't comment much, I normally lurk. But I couldn't let this post go without a comment because I have pretty strong feelings about people who tell me how I should feel.

You know, regardless of how lovely it is to bring life into world pregnancy is not glamorous. As a former infertility patient and finally a mother to one pretty great 10 year old, I can tell you that when I finally experienced a pregnancy that didn't end in miscarriage I didn't stand around, or lounge around and sing Kumbyah (sp), and feel all earth mothery. I felt gross most of the time, and I had many "oh shit, what the fuck have I done" moments during my pregnancy. In fact, I remember when we left the house for the hospital I asked my husband if we could change our minds because we'd never come back just the two of us, it would always be from now on forever and ever three of us.

So fast forward ten years, he's a great kid, like I am sure yours are. In a years time you will feel different.

What I am trying to say is feel the way you want to, your child is loved, I can tell from your posts how much you love your family.

Ignore those who tell you how you should feel. They are full of shit.


For three years you have made me laugh, cry and want to live, every day. You have seen me through a lot, unknowingly. You are abso-freaking-lutely hilarious and inspirational even, and my thoughts and prayers are with you during this difficult time. My mom and dad have been my angels my entire life and my heart goes out to you and your family during this tough time. Take care of yourself (which I'm sure you hear a million billion times) and I won't say don't stress (argh!) but do take care of yourself and those amazing little boys!! And-this is probably too long for a comment, but I've never really commented before...and your website has really seen me through some tough times, so thank you, and you've inspired me to start my own, one day, maybe.


Oh my goodness I feel you! I am pregnant with my first and due in June. I have had a fairly similar rough time, as in December, my Uncle passed away unexpectedly....In January, my Dad had to have emergency triple heart bypass to save his February my Grandpa had a heart March he had open heart Mom's cousin died from cancer....and just this week my Grandpa passed away. So much sadness in such a short time. No time to catch your breath or even comprehend a single one of these devastating time to plan for my Baby.


As you well know by now, people are assholes..I personally think that you are managing as well as you can. Don't feel bad about flipping out if you need to, I'll virtually hold your hand and cuss at passers-by who stare.


On the way home from the hospital with our third child, it suddenly hit me that we too, would be outnumbered and "what the heck was I thinking", "holy crap, how am I going to handle this"- I had a mini meltdown/panic attack just blocks from home.

She's 8 now and the truth is- I think I am enjoying her even more than the others, not because she's better (although she does happen to be extremely delightful), but because I have learned how to not obsess as much and to enjoy more. SOme people call it the "3rd child syndrome", you know, wiping the binkie off on your jeans instead of sterilizing it, that stuff... I highly recommend it and wish I'd treated my older two more like the 3rd...we'd have had a lot more fun that way!

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