Nicolette writes at Working on a Project, and it’s fitting that she’d be my Memorial Day guest, because it always looks like she and her family are having so much fun and making the most out of their time together. She’s the mother of a preschooler and a BRAND NEW one-year-old, both completely adorable girls. Get to know Nicolette better here, and while you’re there, browse around…I guarantee you’ll learn something (like how to make delicious greek yogurt muffins).

I’m so happy to have you here, Nicolette!.

I expected to be sleep deprived. I expected to be overwhelmed. I expected there would be a transition period between mothering one and mothering two. I knew all these things and welcomed them wholeheartedly. After overcoming infertility, these things did not matter. I was thrilled to bring another life into this world.

What I didn’t expect was be a stranger in my own mind. To be lost among the sand storm that was in my head. Each grain of sand with their own trajectory. None staying still long enough for me to complete a thought.

I’m sure what my husband didn’t expect was to find his normally confident type-A wife, sitting on the floor in their master bedroom closet crying and pleading for him to postpone our move the night before it was scheduled. This was a move that we had planning for six months. Into a new house we both loved and knew was best for our growing family. My request was irrational and emotional but without hesitation he sat on the floor with me, pulled me close and said okay, whatever you need. We sat there for a few minutes before I was able to regroup my thoughts, calm my mind. I recall saying that I wanted to be normal again, I just wanted my mind back. He smiled, said normal was boring and my mind had been lost a long time ago. I laughed and thanked him for being the best husband but this was one of those times I needed a kick in the butt, not my hand held. We moved the next day.

I have shared over thirteen years of my life with this wonderful man. We have shared everything. I’ve never held back from him but it took me almost four months to tell him how I felt and that I thought I needed help, the professional kind. I didn’t expect the fear. The fear that people might doubt my abilities as a mother. That fear kept me from telling anyone. Leaving just me and him to sort through the pieces. To put me back together. I learned something unexpected during this process, some of those pieces were no longer part of me and others are stronger than I anticipated.

Last week we celebrated my daughter’s first birthday. After her party, I wrote her a letter expressing my gratitude. I didn’t expect this journey I have been on for the past year but I will be forever grateful for it. Without her, I would not have learned to calm those grains of sand swirling in my head. I would not have had the opportunity to heal my soul in a way I didn’t even know I needed. I’m a better woman, a better wife and a better Mom because of her.