Then and Now: Life Before and After Baby


Then and Now: Life Before and After Baby


February 3rd Mama Blogger – Marni Zurowski 

Marni lives in Regina Beach with her husband, Brennan, and their one-year-old daughter, Aubrey.  She and her husband met through eHarmony and it didn’t take them long to decide they wanted to start a family.  She is a stay-at-home-mom, working less than part-time as an assistant at her mother-in-law’s real estate brokerage, Cottage & Country Realty Ltd., where her husband is a REALTOR®.  In her free time, she dabbles with photography, loves cooking, and always looks forward to enjoying a glass of wine with her husband once their daughter has gone to bed.

Then and Now: Life Before and After Baby

Life changes drastically when you welcome a baby into your home. What was once normal life is no longer even an option, or at least not without involving a terrible headache to remind you of your mistake for the rest of the day. Here is my experience of life before a child was even a thought, to carrying a child, and then raising that child. I am positive if you are a mother, you can relate to something from my journey.

The house is silent when I open my eyes. I reach for my phone to check the time; almost noon. My head aches and my feet are sore. I vaguely remember walking home after hours of dancing. Hearing my husband’s low snore, I grab my robe to cover my naked body before heading down the hall to the kitchen. I pass the living room and see the remains of the evening prior. Clothes are strewn across the room and there is a pizza box with five empty beer cans on the floor. I continue into the kitchen and grab an Advil. I down it with a large glass of water while making a mental note to never drink tequila again. My stomach aches but I crave bacon and coffee. I find a pan and throw a frozen pack of bacon in and start brewing a pot of coffee. Returning to the living room, I find the remote and turn on the television. I choose a movie to watch before heading back to the kitchen to grab my coffee. Quickly making my way back to the living room, I grab a blanket and cuddle into it on the couch. As I take my first sip of coffee, I decide to stay exactly where I am for the rest of the day.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling as I lay flat on my back with a pillow under my knees. I need to use the washroom. Slowly lifting my left leg, I drape it over the side of the bed then force myself up with my arms. I wince as sharp pain shoots from my hip up my back. It is my daughter’s time to wake as well and as she flips inside of me, my stomach warns me I need to head to the washroom quicker than planned. I waddle as fast as I can and drop to my knees in front of the toilet. My lack of appetite has caused me to be left vomiting nothing and I feel worse after several minutes of gagging. I rest against the side of the tub to catch my breath before struggling to get into the shower. After I manage to undress and climb in, I close my eyes and lean against the shower wall as the warm water soothes my aching body. I’d stay in longer but I feel weak so turn off the tap and grab my towel. After covering my body in coconut oil, with determination to avoid stretch marks, I search my closet for an outfit that is relatively attractive but more importantly, comfortable. After settling on an outfit, I sit on the edge of the bed panting and wish I could get back in bed. I consider making a cup of coffee but the thought makes my stomach turn so I decide to pass and find another way to force myself to stay awake throughout the day.

I wake to the soft cooing of my one year old through the baby monitor. I don’t even open my eyes as I grab my phone off the nightstand to check the time. One eye creaks open; 6 o’clock. I close my eye again and hope she falls asleep for at least one more hour. The monitor goes silent and I think my wish has been granted. I begin to drift back to my dreams when I hear her high-pitched scream. I grunt and slowly get up. Passing the kitchen, I hit start on the coffee pot that I made sure was prepared the night before. Opening her door, I see her standing in her crib with a huge grin. I can’t help but smile as I greet her with a big kiss. She returns the gesture, which involves a lot more slobber than I prefer in a kiss. I wrap her in my arms with a blanket, grab a fresh diaper, and head to the living room. She reaches for the remote and shoves it in my face. I turn on Paw Patrol before forcing her on her back to change her noticeably full diaper. You’d think she was in severe pain by her screams and I work as quickly as possible to get the task done before there is pee all over the carpet. I manage to get the diaper on but she has chosen to remain naked and bounces away to her toy box. Taking this moment of distraction to my advantage, I head to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. It doesn’t take long before I feel tiny hands grasping at my pajama bottoms. Looking down, she whines and grabs further up my leg as if to say, “pick me up.” I grunt in frustration, it’s not even 7 o’clock and I can’t even have a minute to myself. Setting down my large cup of coffee, I pick her up feeling defeated, and we head back to the living room to play with her building blocks. She smiles at me and I know her heart is happy. I scold myself for being so irritated and enjoy the moment. Before I know it, she will no longer be my baby and my heart will ache for this moment. I decide my coffee can wait and pull out another toy.


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