It’s 3 am, and I’m watching an episode of Snapped (I know not the best choice for a postpartum mom) while my husband snores blissfully beside me. I feel like I may one day be featured on this show, and he’s going to be the victim. He used to have insomnia, that was until we had a baby, which conveniently cured him. Now, it’s my turn. Yay! Most days, I REALLY want to be a dad.

I can’t even begin to describe what goes on through my mind at this time. Will that dress look cute on me this weekend? Is the kid’s cough life threatening?  Should I check webmd and spiral into insanity or stare at the ceiling for hours wondering when the baby is going to wake up?

Which brings us here, together, sinking in to my new reality. I AM A MOM. Just a couple of years ago I was just a person. My own person. I traveled the world and went for drinks with my friends as I pleased. I could go shopping and decide I was going to meet my hubby for dinner SPONTANEOUSLY. I could stop at a gas station and pick up an energy drink in a matter of seconds. I could poop all by myself (I never thought I could actually miss that). And then, boom, out of nowhere, all of that changed. It’s only been six months, but it feels like an eternity. And, don’t get me wrong, I love my little one—although that didn’t happen right away either (I’ll leave that for another entry)— but this is one of the toughest jobs I have ever had. And trying to stay sane through all of it and not lose the me I once was is pretty excruciatingly exhausting.

So join me on this unfiltered journey of going from a fabulous and independent working woman to a trying-to-remain-fabulous mother and housewife.