Confessions of a Baseball Mom

By

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May 16, 2018

You see me coming from a mile away. I park my massive monstrosity of a vehicle, and out tumble a myriad of children.

Yes, I can read your mind.

“How did they all fit in there? Does she have a kid on every team? Is that kid even hers? Is that entire bag full of snacks? How is she balancing that iced coffee on her head like that?”

Yup. I am that baseball mom. The mom with four kids on three teams, rushing from field to field with a toddler strapped to her back, hoping to be there to cheer on at least some of her kids. You’ve giggled at scenarios like me in memes and gawked at me from the bleachers. Here I am, in the (potentially sunburned) flesh.

And I have some confessions.

I only know the score if it is really good . . .

. . . or really bad.

I have no idea what inning it is.

If it is starting to get dark out, I can venture a guess that it is “close to the end.” I am usually wrong. If I tell you I think the game is close to ending, bring a pillow because we are probably going to be spending the night on the bleachers.

I have trouble telling the kids on the field apart.

I have a chair positioned 50 feet away from a bunch of kids who are roughly the same size, sporting matching uniforms and wearing hats on their heads while they run after a ball like a pack of overly excited puppies.

Am I clapping for your kid? Am I clapping because I’ve got really bad eyesight and think it might be my kid? You’ll never know. Thank goodness they have numbers on their backs. Now, if only I could keep the numbers straight.

I live in fear of a pop fly coming in my direction.

Mainly because it could knock over my coffee. No coffee, no clappy — no matter whose kid it is.

I probably don’t know your kid’s name.

Heck, I probably don’t know your name either. I am great at remembering faces, but names? If you said it when we introduced ourselves, I probably forgot it by the time our handshake was done. It is something I have struggled with my entire life. If I haven’t referred to you by name since the start of the season, there is a 99% chance it’s because you are forever embedded in my brain as “number 7’s mom.” Throw me a bone once in awhile and refer to the lady sitting next to you by name, OK? I will remember by the time they are drafted to the Red Sox. I promise.

Maybe.

I’m grateful for the other baseball parents.

No matter how hard I try, I am bound to miss games here and there. I know I can always count on another team parent to drive my kids to the right field and cheer them on. Or to cheer on a kid who vaguely resembles them.

If you drive my kid, I remember your name. I promise.

I really do enjoy baseball.

The games may be long, I may be covered in mosquito bites, and my kids’ antics may make me cringe from time to time, but there is no place I’d rather be. Which is a good thing, because during baseball season, there is no other place I will be.

My Shower Audience

By

ginanewton

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May 15, 2018

shower audience - Boston Moms Blog

Remember the days of a long, peaceful shower? Yes, I do too. Like many other moms, my showers are quick these days. I’m fortunate to get a few in solitude, but frequently, life demands a shower audience — my 2- and 3.5-year-old daughters. They aren’t quite old enough to roam free, and that means party in the bathroom. No big deal, right? No, but I recently took pause to reflect on all that can occur during a critical component to personal hygiene.

My 2-year-old takes this opportunity to ransack any drawer or cabinet.

You can tell me my cabinets should be latched, but they simply aren’t. With that, I get a formal review of what is stored in them — every last item. My husband’s deodorant takes the biggest hit in the form of sniffs and fingernails. There is a full examination of the toilet, with lots of touching, toilet paper off the roll and onto the floor, and finding the razor left where it shouldn’t be. The remainder of my shower is spent describing to the girls what each item is, from face lotion to an expired UTI test kit.

The 3-year-old is a whole different experience.

For her, it is all about my body and why it isn’t exactly like hers. My “very nice” boobs are the most popular topic lately. She notes hers as “baby” ones and that when she gets older, they’ll grow like mine. I urge her not to rush and enjoy her baby ones. There are comments on my arms and legs, and we discuss muscles and exercise to stay healthy and strong. My awareness is heightened that how I respond will impact them and how they see and value their own bodies. I focus on positive messages about self-love and respecting our bodies as they are. I know the hardest days of this lie ahead.

The one consistent fascination lies below my waist.

Oh, the joy of those conversations — especially around that special time every month. Serious inquiries around the fact that I’m wearing “diapers” and whether I have “boo boos” requiring kisses. Explaining menstruation to a toddler and preschooler is a requirement of my mom job that no book could have prepared me for. Though it does make me laugh, often.

Like many elements of motherhood, I’ll miss my shower audience someday.

These showers are anything but relaxing, especially when they require me to completely put my bathroom back together. Yet, I find myself reflecting on the fact that I’ll be alone in that bathroom again someday with plenty of time to take the long shower. I already know I’ll miss their innocent questions and hopeful looks.

So until then, showering with an audience it is.

The Year With No Birthday Party

By

Ranessa Doucet

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May 14, 2018

I was gearing up for my son’s fifth birthday party, and I was starting to stress. I typically start out excited to plan a party and full of elaborate ideas. But when the day finally arrives, I end up a ball of stress, snapping at my poor husband every time he tells me to “calm down.” (Is there anything more annoying than someone telling you to “calm down” when you’re stressed?) I usually feel like I did all the work and nobody appreciated it. The kids always have a fun time, but they probably would have had just as much fun if I had simply gotten a few balloons and a cake and called it a day.

I’d done the jumpy house birthday party and the girly sparkly birthday party. I’d made princess cakes and monkey cakes. I’d put together more homemade favors than I could ever count. I was exhausted. Besides, my son was only in preschool, and he didn’t have that many friends yet. Did I have to invite the whole class when he only played with a few kids?

He was obsessed with trains at the time — we had to stop the car every morning on our way to preschool to watch the train drive by. I contemplated doing a train party and started a Pinterest board for my ideas. I pinned train cakes, train decorations, and even a train made out of fruits and vegetables. My head started spinning with ideas, and I began to panic that I didn’t have time to pull this fabulous party together!

And that’s when it dawned on me: Nothing would make my 5-year-old happier than actually riding the train! I decided then and there that for his birthday we were going to get on the train we watched pass by every morning. I told him for his birthday he could invite one friend, and we would ride the train together. You would have thought I said we were going to Disney World! So began the countdown: “How many days till we ride the train?” “How many hours till we ride the train?” “When are we riding the train?”

His fifth birthday finally arrived. While his sister was at school, I took him and one friend on the train into Boston. It was pouring out, but he didn’t care. He was finally getting to ride the train, and his best friend was with him! It was only a half-hour ride, but his chubby, smiling face was pressed against the window the whole time. He and his friend occasionally shouted things like, “I saw a bulldozer,” “We switched tracks,” and “We’re going so fast.” We got off the train in the city, ate at McDonald’s in North Station, and boarded the train back home. The ride back was just as exciting.

That was it — so simple. “The best birthday ever!” my son said. It cost me $20, and he never even mentioned having a party. That train ride was more than enough for him, and he still talks about it a year later.

It seems that all the hoopla and fancy parties are often for us and not necessarily the kids. Would the kids have even noticed if I had labeled the coffee “diesel fuel” and if the sandwiches were in the shape of train wheels? Why do we stress ourselves out over these parties? I’m not going to lie; in the future, I may still occasionally go a bit crazy with party planning — it can be fun! But I’ve learned that, once in a while, it’s OK to keep it simple. Think about what puts a smile on your child’s face. Trust me; it’s worth it!

A Different Kind of Girls’ Night :: With Wicked Rustic Workshops

By

Boston Moms

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May 11, 2018

As we get older and older (and more and more tired!), the thought of spending a girls’ night out at a bar drinking and chatting seems a bit draining. Instead, we prefer conversation, a more intimate group, and often doing something productive. You can only do so many paintings that are never going on your wall, but a keepsake wooden sign that’s just right for your family is definitely worth spending a few hours with your girlfriends for!

The Boston Moms Blog team recently had a contributor night with Wicked Rustic Workshops. It’s owned by two local moms who were looking for something fun to do to get out of the house a few nights a week. What started small has grown into a fantastic company that brings interactive workshops to people all over the area, does fundraisers to help support your community, and makes everyone feel like an artist.

We were all really surprised with how easy it was to create our own signs, and we were all able to put our own special touches on them. Our team picked three options from the Design Gallery, then we individually decided which sign was right for us from those three choices. Laura and Kristen created stencils for each one of us, so they were personalized to our own needs — family name, initials, or whatever we wanted. They took the time to walk us through the amazingly easy process, teaching us how to paint our boards, add the stencils to limit any bleeding, and paint the design just right. We could distress the base coat as much as we liked (to make the signs as rustic looking as possible), choose from over a dozen different shades of chalk paint, and place our stencils however we wanted.

It was a great way to make something fun, personal, and uniquely one of a kind! Check out our masterpieces!

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On Bittersweet Mother’s Day

By

Megan Samborski

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May 11, 2018

I started the tradition over a decade ago. I had moved to Boston from where I grew up in central New York and had my first taste of a more independent adult life outside the familiar shelter of a college campus or comfortable hometown neighborhood. Just like anything else in life, it took some time to adapt to my new zip code away from family. One thing that helped me through that restless adjustment phase was how proud my mom was of me. She would tell anyone who would listen that her daughter was going to graduate school and living in Boston, while proudly flashing her brag book with proof of my new “fabulous life.” (The reality of a broke grad student was far from fabulous, but to my mother, perception was reality.)

Like any mom would be, she was proud that I had the courage to leap out of my comfort zone and create a life of my own. Each year, when the snow started to melt and Mother’s Day approached, I would begin planning a special weekend in Boston for my mom (since she was in her glory witnessing my new life in person). She would breeze into town on a Friday, set up camp at my modest apartment, and we would spend Mother’s Day weekend together. We shopped in the city and indulged in too many carbs in the North End. My friends and I would take her to our local watering holes and fill her in on the gossip of our simple (childless) lives. During one visit I excitedly introduced her to my new boyfriend, who would later become my husband.

On those Mother’s Days, we would brunch outside and sip mimosas in the warmth of the first days of Boston spring. We shared stories and plates of New England seafood and gabbed future plans. Like most mother/daughter relationships, it wasn’t a perfect dynamic. We were very different people and had our typical “stuff” to work out. But I always considered her my safe haven — that person who you feel comfortable revealing the most unflattering parts of yourself.

Fast forward several years later, and the Mother’s Day visits to Boston abruptly came to a close. We found out my mom had cancer, and, with much heartache, we said goodbye to her in the fall of 2011. My husband and I spent our wedding anniversary driving back to Boston from her funeral, emotionally drained and wondering out loud how she could have been dancing at our wedding just a year before.

A few months after that, I found out I was expecting my first baby, which was the first time I truly understood the meaning of the word I had thrown around at various occasions of my life — bittersweet. I realized that bittersweet is becoming a mother right after losing your own. There is sadness, but there is also great joy. I am a mother now, but I am without a mother.

Each year as Mother’s Day approaches I still get that familiar itch to start making plans for my mom. I inevitably go through some old cards, reminisce with pictures, or read her old emails. I always keep her memory alive in whatever plans we make on that special day. Even though it’s been almost eight years, the thought that she will never meet her grandchildren or witness me as a mother still sometimes feels too much to bear. But I know that, just like a decade ago, she is proud. While we can’t spend our Mother’s Days together anymore physically, I know she is still with me, still silently applauding the life I have created. And that, my friends, is truly bittersweet.

On the Day You Were Born, So Was I

By

Meghan Block

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May 10, 2018

motherhood - Boston Moms Blog — Image Credit: Josie Kapral Photography, 2015

You launch yourself into my arms for our nightly bedtime hug, and I breathe the smell of your soft blonde hair against my face. It’s your last night as a 4-year-old. Tomorrow, we turn 5.

Yes, we. I’ll be 5 years old tomorrow, too.

**Because on the day you were born, so was I.**

I lived a full and blessed life before you. With those blessings, though, came an unexpected and maybe unfounded weight of expectation. Shouldn’t I use my many privileges to change the world? For most of my young life I felt tossed around in a strange limbo — trying hard to perform how I should and feeling entirely unsure of who I was supposed to be.

When my peers were making moves to actually change our world, when the love of my life told me he was joining the military because he felt passionate about it and needed to, when friends and acquaintances remarked that they had “dream jobs,” and when my family rallied again and again to support and maintain our family business, I floated around on the outskirts, totally unsure of where I belonged. I didn’t feel that same passion. Sure, I was confident in a few things — I was madly in love with and absolutely meant to be with my high school sweetheart. I was creative, organized, and crafty. I received accolades in any job I tried, but I just didn’t love my work the way I thought I should. Who was I supposed to be? How can you change the world without knowing what you’re passionate about?

Everything changed on the night you were born. I was born that night, too.

In motherhood I have found my niche. I have found my passion. I have found my dream job, and I have found the one thing I am meant for. The fulfillment I get from being a mother has been absolutely transformative. It has changed my entire worldview, and for the first time ever, I understand my purpose. I am meant to be a mother.

Was there even a me before there was a you?

At only 5 years old, you are empathetic. You feel things deeply. You are courageous and strong and reliable and trustworthy. You try hard, and you are so easy to love. And, for the first time in my life, I realize that I am all of those things, too.

In you, I see a reflection of all of my strengths. I am beginning to understand that all of the characteristics I have tried to instill in you in the last five years, I have also been cementing in myself. Those are the characteristics that change the world.

At 5 years old, you are just getting the hang of personhood. At 5 years “old,” so am I.

And it is through you that I will change the world.

The Would-Be Mom

By

Jenny Berk

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May 9, 2018

miscarriage - Boston Moms Blog

I remember very clearly the day I inadvertently witnessed someone else’s most personal, agonizing despair from inside the procedure room at my OB-GYN’s office. I was waiting for my own doctor to come in and was already in a vulnerable state of mind staring at the stirrups awaiting me and feeling cold in my paper gown.

While waiting for what seemed like an eternity, I started to hear the most guttural and primal cries and moans coming from one of the other treatment rooms. At first, I figured it was someone in labor, but I soon recognized the cries of intense grief. There was no denying it.

I couldn’t see her. I just felt and heard her grief. I wanted to jump from the table and rush in to comfort her. I started sobbing — taking on her pain as my own. My suspicions were confirmed as my MD finally came in to examine me.

“What happened?” I asked.

She shared with me that a 12-week sonogram had just revealed a miscarriage. That I was there (sort of) to bear witness to such a painful and personal moment felt so strange to me. I could do nothing to help her. I don’t even know who she was or what her story was. Had she been trying for months to get pregnant? Was this her first miscarriage — or one of many heartbreaking incidences. Did she have other children? (Why don’t we talk about this more?)

The MD saw how affected I was by this and spouted some statistics at me — up to 15% of early pregnancies end in miscarriage, blah blah blah. Maybe this was her way of comforting me? But who was comforting this woman? And, honestly, who could possibly comfort her? Is there anything anyone can do to help someone through this kind of pain?

Why was I one of the lucky ones who never had to experience this?

This Mother’s Day, I want to hold space for all the would-be moms — the millions of women who would give anything to be cradling a baby, losing sleep, making curfews, preparing meals, picking up toys, and dealing with any amount of stress just to be a mom. The woman loaning her body to technology via IVF, IUI, and painful shots in the belly, just to conceive or maintain a pregnancy.

As we’re receiving our flowers, reading our cute handmade cards, going out for our Mother’s Day brunches and snuggling with our kids on May 11, let’s honor and acknowledge all the would-be moms out there, as well as all the men and women who have lost their own moms and struggle silently on this holiday amid all the Facebook family photos.

We see you.

We hear you.

We honor you.

We hold you in love and comfort today. And we pray that by next year at this time, you too will be holding your own precious baby and hearing the words “Happy Mother’s Day” for the first time in maybe years with peace in your heart.

Lyme Disease :: What Moms Need to Know About Ticks

By

Boston Moms

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May 8, 2018

Thank you PhysiciansOne Urgent Care for sponsoring this post.

It started out like any Tuesday morning, with snuggles from my still half-asleep 3-year-old daughter, some nagging a bit later to finish breakfast, and negotiations on the outfit of the day before we had to leave for school and work. When it comes to my daughter’s hair, I don’t typically do much beyond a quick swipe of the brush and maybe a clip — we’re lucky if we all brush our teeth before leaving the house in the morning.

As I pulled some hair back for an easy ponytail, my fingers brushed over a small bump. I parted her hair to find a very large, very engorged tick embedded in my daughter’s scalp.

At my scream, my daughter turned to question me with big, blue saucer eyes, and all I could see was the tick’s body wriggling to get deeper and deeper into my daughter’s scalp. (Slight exaggeration on that wriggling part, but if you’ve ever pulled a tick off your kid, you get me.)

I knew I had to get the tick out, and I recalled reading something about the proper way to do it, so I placed a call to our pediatrician. The nurse instructed me to grab the tick as close to my daughter’s scalp as possible to remove it and to avoid squeezing the body of the tick as best I could. Squeezing the body causes the tick to regurgitate the contents of its stomach (OMG, gross) back into the bite, which is how the bacteria that causes Lyme disease is passed from the tick to the host. The host being my 3-year-old, in this case. So I did the best I could with my tweezers and scooped up my daughter – and my 8-month-old son – to get the bite checked out.

The pediatrician was not convinced I had removed the head completely with the tweezers, so my daughter was prescribed a two-week round of prophylactic antibiotics to prevent Lyme. (More on how to remove a tick, and prevent Lyme disease, here.)

We all know a good pair of eyebrow tweezers is hard to find, so if you don’t want to use your favorite pair to remove an engorged tick, good news! PhysicianOne Urgent Care is giving out FREE (yes, free!) Original Tick Key® tick removers from May 10–13, while supplies last, at all of their Massachusetts locations in Chestnut Hill, Medford, Waltham, and Westwood. Hopefully you don’t ever experience an embedded tick on your child, but if you do you’ll have a Tick Key® that is effective in removing the tick correctly. Already have a tick remover at home? Go grab another one (it’s FREE, after all) for the car, your purse, the soccer bag — those nasty creatures are literally everywhere. You do not need to be treated or seen as a patient to pick up a Tick Key® in between lacrosse games, recital rehearsal, or grocery shopping this weekend.

In other great news, if your pediatrician is not available or you can’t be seen right away for a tick bite or rash assessment, PhysicianOne Urgent Care will do that too. Open seven days a week with extended hours and online check-in to avoid sitting in the waiting room, they’ve got you covered for spring and summer illnesses and injuries. Learn more about the services PhysicianOne Urgent Care offers at www.p1uc.com.

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Birth Stories :: Why Sharing Benefits Us All

By

Shirley Anne Rodriguez

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May 8, 2018

We’ve all heard them — birth stories. I read a birth story for the first time about seven years ago when my cousin shared hers on Facebook. After that, I was intrigued by hearing other women’s stories, and how each birth is so unique and unpredictable. Some people find it amazing; others don’t understand the need for sharing birth stories.

But for me? I think sharing birth stories is so important. Here’s why I decided to share my own:

Our stories help inform others.

My oldest son was born 7 years ago. I had no experience with childbirth (well, of course — I was a first-time mom) and relied on my OB-GYN completely. I believed and trusted him and didn’t think there was any other option. I was induced at 40 weeks and two days because my doctor was going on vacation! YUP! You read right — he was going on vacation, so that meant I needed to be induced. I arrived after 12 a.m. at the ER (as he instructed us) and the OB arrived a few minutes later. I was sent to labor and delivery, and my induction process began. I had to stay alone all night during the process.

For me, my birth was the “normal” way of having a little one. But then I started reading other stories and noticed that what had happened to me was not ideal. Sharing my story with other mothers helped me realize that normal could be different for everyone.

Every woman has her own experience — there is no “normal” way of giving birth.

Anytime you talk to other women about their births, you see some similarities. But at the same time, you notice, WHOA, mine was so different. That’s one of the best things about childbirth — the uncertainty! It’s not predictable, and every woman will experience it differently. The way I had my kiddos doesn’t mean it will be the same way others will birth their children.

I’ve had a hospital birth and a home birth. They were very different experiences, but they brought me the two boys I love the most (even if they do drive me nuts). Other women have emergency C-sections, others plan a home birth and end up at the hospital, others have surrogate births, vaginal births with pain medications, vaginal births with no medications, doula support, scheduled C-sections, and so many other ways.

Childbirth should be normalized.

Many people are not used to reading birth stories. But looking at pictures of a birth, watching clips of a woman in one of the most vulnerable times in her life, bringing a child into this world? Birth should be seen as NATURAL and it should be normalized.

The best way to achieve this? By women sharing their stories. Birth should be seen as a time of welcoming a child into this world, a time when love takes a whole new meaning, a moment when we see how strong we are as women. Yes, there is blood, there might be crying or even cursing — who knows! Those are the little details that make each story unique.

Telling your story helps you heal (and might even help others heal).

Every time I share the story of my oldest son’s birth, I feel I heal a little. I also feel I am helping others. Every time I share my home birth story I believe others see it is a possibility. Every time I join a birthing woman in my role as a photographer and participate in their birth story, I heal.

I want my children to know how they were brought into this world.

Most importantly, I want my boys to know how they were born! I want them to see birth as a natural thing and that no one needs to be embarrassed by it. I want them to know the process. And I’m hoping that when they grow up, they will each be a support to their partner during this amazing time.

6 Must-Have Mother’s Day Gifts for the Sports Mom

By

Kat Cornetta

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May 7, 2018

Just like our kids need cleats, shorts, and helmets, sports moms need their own equipment — things that make waiting through a practice or sitting through a day-long tournament downright comfy.

My own son might not yet be old enough for organized sports, but I called upon some of the most experienced sports parents I know, as well as some of my sportswriting colleagues, to make a list of gifts that will make any sports mom smile this Mother’s Day — or any day! (And bonus: Many of these items are available for rush delivery in time for Mother’s Day!)

A cooler bag that’s roomy and cute

Whatever you use for a cooler bag, you want to make sure it not only holds enough for post-practice snacks for your kids but some refreshments for you. This adorable backpack cooler is not only roomy enough for both needs, it’s easy to carry as well. It also comes in several fun prints, including a fashionable black and yellow print and a navy blue chevron.

A folding chair that’s sturdy and comfortable

Need a folding chair that can handle being tossed around the back of your car and provide back comfort? You will want to invest in something more than the basic folding chair model you might find at your local big box store — find one that’s a little more substantial. The KingCamp line has multiple options that meet those needs, including this model that is much more comfortable than the usual. When you’re done lugging all of that gear to the field, you deserve to sit in comfort.

A blanket for those chilly games

Watching your child’s outdoor practices in the spring and fall can find you comfortable one minute and freezing cold the next. A rollable fleece blanket is easy to carry and a perfect extra layer in case the wind blows in. Better yet: Get a blanket personalized featuring your child’s favorite sport. ChalkTalkSports offers a wide variety of blanket options, including lacrosse (pictured), cheerleading, field hockey, and football.

A fan for those scorchers

On the other side of the spectrum, summer games can be scorching hot. I once worked a three-day club lacrosse tournament in the middle of July, and I was convinced that all of us watching from the sidelines could melt at any moment. We all could have used a battery-powered portable fan those days, and this one from Brookstone would have fit the bill.

A tent to protect you — and just you — from the elements

A luxury, sure, but one that you will be grateful to have when it starts to drizzle or downpour. This Under the Weather Sports Pod pops open and features a zip-up door for you and your chair to make your way inside. It is made of a clear plastic on three sides so you can still see the action while staying nice and dry. At $99, it’s not an everyday purchase, but if you have multiple children in multiple outdoor sports, it may be worth the investment.

A wagon to carry all your equipment (oh, and your kid’s equipment too)

As a sports writer, I have covered tournaments of all shapes and sizes for a decade. I don’t think I’ve attended a single one where parents didn’t have to park seemingly miles away from the actual fields. Are they trying to make sure we all get exercise too? Do you really want to be carrying your cooler, chairs, and whatever else you may have brought that entire walk to the field? No. Invest in a portable wagon. Bonus points if it is collapsible, like this one from Mac Sports, which folds down to just eight inches thick.

Birth Control :: Why My Husband Got a Vasectomy

By

Timika Hopkins

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May 3, 2018

Motivated by weekly episodes of “The Cosby Show,” I planned — as a child — to become a doctor by the age of 30 and to promptly follow graduation with birthing six children. I came from a big family, and I wanted one too. As time went on, my dreams deviated.

I entered the healthcare sector as a registered nurse and lice clinic owner, and I am also the blessed mother of three wonderful and inspiring children. Our home and our lives became more and more full over time. Yet, because I loved having my children so much, I was not quite ready to stop once my third was born.

But carrying and raising our son Gabriel was difficult compared to his older siblings. Six years younger than our previous child, my pregnancy with Gabriel bothered my hips and ruined my abdomen, and he was colicky, hungry, and always awake once he was born. When Gabe was around 5 months old, my husband came to the conclusion that our family was complete.

I was nowhere near thinking of having the next child, but I was also not ready to proclaim I was done for good! Permanent contraception was not my first, second, or third choice, but my husband felt differently. He began to research a vasectomy.

A vasectomy is an outpatient surgical procedure where a urologist cuts into the male testicles and then snips, ties, and essentially burns the vas deferens tubes. The procedure is done using local anesthesia, with a needle piercing very delicate spots on the body. Once completed, sperm is no longer able to exit the male structure, thereby stopping future conceptions.

A vasectomy is pretty easy to access. Most insurances cover the cost, and it wasn’t difficult to get the ball rolling (no pun intended). My husband asked his primary care doctor for a referral, and a couple of weeks later he met with a urologist. The initial meeting with the urologist went well. I decided not to be involved, as I disagreed with the decision to permanently sterilize while still in the throes of caring for a newborn. I preferred to wait until the one-year mark to make such a huge planning decision.

The two men scheduled a procedure date. I tried to remain supportive of my husband’s decision, though I disagreed. I asked plenty of objective questions about the doctor, the procedure, the healing time, and whatever else I would normally ask before a procedure.

The procedure date came and went — my husband canceled due to last-minute fears. Soon, the second procedure date arrived. He was obviously nervous. I figured he would cancel again, but to my surprise, he didn’t! I requested that he write a summary to share his experience in hopes of helping others make their fertility planning choices in the future. Here is what he wrote:

Fortunately, I made it through the stinging of the anesthesia, and as he got to work down there I stared up at the ceiling hoping it would be over soon. There was some tugging and pulling, and a subtle feeling like I had gotten kicked in the groin, but it was over quickly with surprisingly little bleeding and just a couple of small stitches.

He gave me an ice pack to put on my groin while I drove home, and when I got home I took the frozen peas out of the freezer and settled in to watch some movies. I iced the area repeatedly for the next 12 hours, and I think that made all the difference in the world — my recovery was short and uneventful. I had that subtle feeling of being groin kicked for a few days, but that subsided and then eventually disappeared.

Now my wife and I can continue our lives together without concerns about unintended pregnancies. To be sure, there are some days where I wonder what it would have been like to have another child (possibly another little girl), and there are days where my wife wishes we had more kids in the house. But, there are many more days where we (my wife included) realize it was the right decision for our family and our lives.

Our Gabriel has brought so much joy into our lives, and we are very grateful to have him. He has completed our family and has brought us all so much closer than before. I now believe my husband made the right decision moving forward with the vasectomy procedure. I do wish I had been 100% on board (instead of 50%) at the time — I could have been there to physically support him, and I could have helped research the process.

If you are considering a new method of contraception, I urge you to talk it through as much as possible. Although I was not fully convinced, we did speak a lot about the choices. This helped in the end, because I was fully aware it was happening, even if I did not fully agree on the timing.

Moving to Greater Boston :: Weymouth

By

Meghan Block

-

May 2, 2018

Maybe you’ve been in Boston for years, but you’re now having kids and looking to relocate. Maybe you’re planning a move to the Boston area from another city in the U.S. or abroad, and you’re trying to make sense of your options. Whatever the case, Boston Moms is here to help with a handy guide to some popular towns in the area! We’ll tell you about the vibe, income levels, schools, and fun insider info to help you figure out the best place for you.

(Also, check out our guides to East Arlington, Milton, North Andover, North Attleboro, Salem, Somerville, and the South End!)

How we got here

My husband and I were both raised on the South Shore (Plymouth) and moved away for several years while he served in the United States Navy. When we decided to transition back to civilian life, we knew we wanted to be “home” with our families, and close to my family’s business in Plymouth. With my husband’s new civilian job in Cambridge, we decided to split the difference and settle in South Weymouth. We have been here for almost two years and are so, so happy here. Weymouth itself is quite large, so for the purposes of this post I will focus on what I know — South Weymouth!

Vibe :: Small town with city convenience

Families in South Weymouth seem to either have deep roots in the town (and are often very, very Irish!) or have recently moved here when looking for a more suburban and less expensive place to raise kids close to the city. When I describe South Weymouth to friends, I mention one Saturday morning when I was in line at Dunkin’ Donuts, and every single person who walked in knew somebody else in line. In thick Boston accents, men and women paid for each other’s coffee and checked in on each other’s small businesses and family lives. Oh, also, everyone was wearing a Patriots hat.

South Weymouth is the perfect town to settle in if you or your partner commute to Boston daily. The convenience is unmatched! Hop on the Red Line in Braintree (less than a 10-minute drive away), grab the commuter rail right down the street (within walking distance from many homes!), or if you’re feeling brave and don’t scare easily, zip up Route 3 to 93 and straight into the city… on a good day. South Weymouth is only 15 miles from Boston, but traffic during commuter time can be a bear.

Of the many perks of living in South Weymouth, the proximity to South Shore Hospital and the Weymouth offices of Children’s Hospital Boston are high on my list. My children have both been seen by the specialists at Children’s and have been cared for by the pedi doctors at South Shore Hospital, who are employees of Children’s Hospital Boston. The access to that level of care is huge to me! It offers peace of mind that can’t be matched.

Live :: Get in while you can

The real estate market in South Weymouth is HOT. My husband and I remark frequently that we are lucky to have bought a house here when we did. It is not uncommon for a house to sell here before it even hits the market! The convenience of suburban life within a commutable distance to the city at a lower cost than some other Boston ‘burbs is huge for many families.

The majority of homes in South Weymouth are single-family, with the exception of brand-new apartment and condo offerings at Union Point. In addition, most homes in South Weymouth are OLD. Many homes were built in the early 1900s, and many need serious updates. I’m telling you — the value in a home here is worth the effort you may need to put in.

While some are on busy streets, most neighborhoods in South Weymouth have homes with small backyards and sidewalk-lined streets. Some homes in South Weymouth are within walking distance to shopping, dining, and other small businesses. We walk to the South Weymouth Barber Shop for haircuts and grab a fresh-squeezed lemonade at Dawn til Dusk Cafe afterward. If I’m feeling ambitious, I can walk to a Whole Foods, a Marshalls, a Starbucks (!), and a post office, too. That being said, since it isn’t a super busy city, there is parking available everywhere you need to go!

Play :: Endless options

Weymouth itself has four library branches, and one will be getting a $33 million facelift in the coming years.

Our house is within walking distance to two baseball fields and attached playgrounds. With a quick drive, you can access one of Weymouth’s many parks, several which have been improved over the last few years.

We love to have dinner at Stockholders Steakhouse — the brussels sprouts and steak tips are out of this world! The Cameo Theater is a super cute relic right in the heart of Columbian Square and the perfect place to catch a movie. Union Point, a brand new community at the old South Weymouth Naval Air Station, hosts summer food truck rodeos and movie nights. There are weekly farmers markets in town, and Hornstra Farms, a local South Shore dairy farm a short drive away in Norwell, delivers products to Weymouth and has some of the best ice cream I’ve ever had.

South Weymouth is just a quick drive away from several ocean beach options. Head further down the South Shore and you get the coastal New England experience (and food!), state parks, and camping! Head north toward the city and enjoy a night in town. With a quick drive, anything is possible!

We love living in South Weymouth and are proud to call it home. I hope you’ve found this guide helpful!

Stay tuned for more town guides to clue you in about Greater Boston’s many terrific family-oriented places to live.

Also, see our previous guides to East Arlington, Milton, North Andover, North Attleboro, Salem, Somerville, and the South End!