My Rainbow Baby

I never knew what the term “rainbow baby” even was…until this time last year. We were pregnant. Hadn’t announced yet. Only a small number of people knew. I was planning this grandiose announcement for a Mother’s Day post–Baby Harris #2 coming November 2018!!! God had other plans…

Around this time last year, I started spotting. Something didn’t feel right. It was literally the DAY of what was supposed to be our first doctor’s appointment. I spotted with Jackson, so you would think I wouldn’t be concerned, but I had just finished a morning run and had some cramping. I felt something wasn’t right. I texted my Ob friend and I just knew she was going to tell me I was over-reacting…but she didn’t. She asked me to remind her how far along I was (11 weeks by the calculation), and when was my appointment, and to keep her posted.

Let me back up. I originally wasn’t happy to find out I was pregnant. I was actually pissed and blamed my husband. It was all his fault lol! The timing was off. We weren’t ready for #2, or at least I wasn’t. We had been talking about it, but I wasn’t quite ready to pull the trigger. Thinking about my previous post-partum depression gave me anxiety (which I never had in my former life and only developed during my pregnancy with my son). Mentally, emotionally, and, I felt, physically (because like a woman, I wanted to lose more weight first), I thought I wasn’t ready. I cried. But then I prayed and of course my mother’s words echoed–it is never going to be the right time, but God’s timing is always right; so then I began to embrace the pregnancy. My son’s birthday is in June like his father, and this baby would be in November like me! What if it were a girl?! What if she looked like me–because CLEARLY Jackson is his father’s child lol. That would be perfection! I began to get excited…

Okay, so back to the day of the appointment. I don’t even remember what it was about (something trivial of course), but for whatever reason, we bickered the whole ride to the appointment, and in the lobby, so we weren’t the happy go lucky couple walking in. Seeing how we are still fairly new to Dallas, I hadn’t found an Ob yet, so this was not only our first appointment for the baby, but also our first appointment with her. Going in, everything seemed normal. She measured me and did all the normal stuff, etc. and said I was measuring right at about 11 weeks. Scheduled an ultrasound for the next visit…then asked if we had any concerns. I told her about the spotting. She examined me and decided to do the ultrasound now–just to be on the safe side…but I knew it. I felt it, or didn’t feel anything rather. As she is doing the ultrasound, she asks again when my last period was & was I sure. There was an eight week fetus but should have been eleven. She’s saying this but not really saying much. I am a blunt person. I need bluntness, so my husband, sensing my tenseness, said, what does that mean. She says, well maybe the math is off, but if it is not, the baby isn’t growing. OKAAAAAY, so WHAT does that mean, and she finally came out and said, there is no heartbeat…

Instant tears (like the ones I’m fighting just writing this). Instant blaming myself for being so selfish to say I wasn’t ready. This was my fault. I didn’t pray hard enough, I took a blessing for granted, and instantly I thought, I just lost my baby girl, and it is my fault. She’s asking me all these questions and I have no clue what to say. I could wait to see if my “math was off” which I knew it wasn’t or I could take care of it. Then it was, okay, some pills or surgery. I asked, which one is better in your expert opinion. She said the pill was more natural…

What she didn’t tell me was the EXTREME PAIN I would feel–basically contractions without an epidural–which I never knew about because I had a scheduled C-section with Jackson–and the emotional anguish of seeing-for DAYS–your child’s fetus “pass” through. It was horrible. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and I am sparing you any further graphic details.

Harder was now telling the people that did know, that we were no longer pregnant. The following week was our anniversary, and then Mother’s Day. I was sad still, and then I started getting a pain I recognized on the right side–ON MOTHER’S DAY. The day I thought I would have been announcing, I was in a new but familiar pain. Sure enough–a cyst–that I would need surgery for–with the same doctor I now wasn’t a fan of, nor her bedside manner. Wonderful. Needless to say, this was a very trying and emotionally time of 2018.

Fast forward. November 2018. We are PREGNANT! Again! This time I was ready. We were ready…but I was terrified. Terrified to announce. Terrified to post pictures. I didn’t want to say anything to anyone….so we held this one close this time. Not even our parents knew right away. I didn’t want to jinx it. We found a NEW doctor, and had 2 visits before finally announcing.

And even that took more time because I was digesting my gender disappointment. I prayed for a boy the first time and got Jackson, so of course I felt God would answer my prayers again, with a girl this time. Nope. Baby Brother 2019! Once again, guilt set in and it took me back to the miscarriage and thinking it was my fault–and that was my girl. Gender disappointment is REAL (as I had a couple of friends remind me), but the desire for a healthy baby and a connection to that baby is realer. I am definitely harder on myself this time around than I was when pregnant with Jackson. I am far more cautious of what I eat, drink, how I walk, how I sleep–all of that. I don’t know how other women handle a pregnancy after a miscarriage, but at almost 30 weeks, I am still holding my breath for my “rainbow baby”…

“Rainbow baby” is a name coined for a healthy baby born after losing a baby due to miscarriage, infant loss, stillbirth, or neonatal death

To “Tribe” or Not to “Tribe”

I am an optimist by nature. According to my husband, too much of one. However, I realized that I had become a Negative Nancy. A few weeks ago–or a few months ago rather (also when I originally wrote the first few lines of this post–don’t judge me lmao), we were in church and as usual, I felt the pastor was speaking directly to me. The sermon was on spiritual amnesia–which led me to think about cloudy visions.

We get so caught up in or focused on the small things of the big picture, that we literally forget what the “big picture” is. We get detoured off our original path and purpose. Spiritual amnesia–we forgot what God has done for us previously and are too focused on what we think He is not doing for us right now. I was so focused on building my “tribe” in my new city (because that’s all you see on social media, right?!), that it began to consume me. Insert cloudy visions.

“Your business needs a tribe”

“Your business is only as successful as your tribe”

“Your tribe is your backbone”

Image result for build your tribe


I have never had a hard time making new friends. It came almost too naturally, but I realized lately, I was forcing it. Many factors played into this–well, played into me becoming “Nancy”…

I fell in love with DC. I rebuilt and rebranded, and grew a business in DC; became a full-time entrepreneur in DC; so when my husband took a job in a city I’ve disliked since childhood, I was devastated, to say the least. Sure, it’s closer to home and I had family there; but being pregnant with our first child, having no friends there, and working from home, caused one of my biggest fears to come true.

New mom, new city, no friends–who works from home–networking anxiety kicked in, in a major way. The first year is a blur, but at the very end of that year, I decided that not only was it needed for my business, but also for my personal growth to get out and network. My postpartum depression did not help (see previous post), and I realize now that I may have pushed myself too soon. I’m not trying to make excuses for becoming “Nancy”, but rather just walking you through the path it took me to get there.

I THOUGHT I was embracing the move, but realized that I found myself in every conversation talking about how much I hated Dallas and had no friends or “tribe” here…and I blamed my business being stagnant on this. Okay, so networking at the end of 2017 had me meeting people. I met, and ended up paying for a business coach. Looking back (because hindsight is ALWAYS 20/20), I wasn’t ready for it, but the info is clicking now. Around the same time, a friend/radio colleague (I used to work in radio sales), invited me to speak on being a Mompreneur for a panel in March 2018 in Philly. She TOO, gave me advice that I clearly was not ready to receive. She said, “Kim, your network is broad and wide. Focus on that. You don’t HAVE to have a circle right now, or ever, in Dallas”; but it still didn’t click yet…

“In order to thrive, you need a tribe” was embedded in my head. It made total sense to me. I’m trying to embrace the city (that I was CLEARLY NOT embracing), so I told myself it was imperative to grow HERE. Otherwise, I would still be living in my past life, and not my current. Well this mentality caused just that–living in my past–subconsciously.

Even after that church service in November (I told y’all this post took a minute), I recognized my cloudy visions and my spiritual amnesia, but wasn’t sure how to fix it; so I decided to sit still.

I finally realized that I already had my “tribe”, and if it expanded to my current city or not, it was okay. Because I sat still, my focus changed, and my real goals (like finally finishing this post lmao) came  forward again. Everything God was trying to tell me before through other people’s advice, was making sense, but I was struggling to put my feelings into transcribed thoughts/words, which is important for an analytical person like me.

And then my AHA! moment came thanks to yet another church service at the beginning of this year, and it motivated me to finish this now–long ass post! The series is on communication.

“You have to invest time if you want a strong relationship”

I realized that many of the relationships I have here in Dallas are more “transactional” relationships…which means that’s simply just an extended network.

“If you’re not careful, you might give too much energy to the wrong person(s) in the wrong season”——this RIGHT HERE….this is what I couldn’t formulate into words but the feeling was there. Recognizing this–realizing that a “local tribe” wouldn’t define me (as silly as that may even sound), completely shifted my focus. My support system. My “tribe” was something I already had. It didn’t have to be recreated locally. If it happened–great, but no need to have my success validated by it. My loneliness started to disappear–and so did “Nancy”–because my focus, direction, and energy shifted. My goals are starting to realign.

“Don’t cheat the people that love you the most.” And that is exactly what I was doing with all this “woe is me and I have no tribe” mess. I DO have relationships here, but no local “tribe” per say. Shoulder shrugs. It was stunting my growth.

It took a moment, but I’m baaaaaaack, bishes!


Life After Postpartum Depression

A couple of days ago, Facebook sent a memory reminder of a post I wrote a year ago. Just two days before my 35th birthday, I posted about my postpartum depression. I had NO IDEA what kind of responses I would get, but honestly, I didn’t write it for anyone but me. It’s now a year later. Am I still depressed? Most days, no, I don’t think so. Do I still get overwhelmed with balancing motherhood, wife life, myself, and my business? Absolutely. What I have realized in this year is that I won’t let any of that define me. I won’t box myself into a category. Am I where I want to be? No, but there is growth. You grow wiser (hopefully), and things DO get easier (inserts lots of prayer), but of course, it never feels that way when you’re going through it.

I currently have drafts of unfinished blog posts, but this one, I had to finish in one sitting. Receiving blessings, means giving blessings, and testimonies can be just that. You never know what someone is going through, and how your words could help them. There is always this hush hush, oooh, or potentially awkward silence when it comes to postpartum depression, or even just depression in general, when there shouldn’t be. I think every woman (at least every woman I know), has had that self hating moment of am I good enough; pretty enough; can I handle this, etc, but the more we TALK about it, the more acceptable it becomes. Instead of my husband tiptoeing around me because he’s afraid of what “may set me off”, talking about it takes that stigma away. It reminds  me of how people are like, is it that time of the month again?! Never has that question gone well for ANY woman, but that’s the same mentality around postpartum depression. Not asking, what can I do to help you, but instead–let me stay away from you, smh.

Either way, in the words of Ice Cube, today was a good day“, so I was in the
mood to speak my truth. I am in a great place–not where I want to be (does this ever happen?!), but living in the moment with a wonderful support tribe, and always working on a better me. I plan to get better with my postings so say a prayer for me on that lol! Thanks to my friend Jaime, for telling me to write it down–all. the. time, lmao! But I appreciate her for it, so I write–they just go unfinished (working progress). Patting myself on the back today, for ACTUALLY completing this thought ;).

Here was the original post (because even the one I posted on social media, had to be cut down), and someone else might need this today:

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We Are Just Ordinary People…But My Child Went Viral

(Originally written on July 7th, 2017)

Ok. So let’s talk about this. Never ever did I think, our child would be a meme or viral on all social media platforms. But alas, Jackson is now apparently, a “John baby”…Thanks Chrissy! We hardly post pics of him–me more than my husband, and then one I post as a joke, goes VIRAL. Bish WHEEEET?! I’ll back it up some. Jasper, my husband, has been getting teased by his friends, since college that he looked like John Legend.

Jasper JL

We went to Italy for our one-year anniversary and people kept asking him if he was John Legend…news flash** He’s 6’4″…John is not…

Fast forward to 2016. We are blessed with a BEAUTIFUL baby boy. Jackson Jacob. Jackson looks just like his father…well, seeing how his father apparently resembles John, there is no surprise, that people ask us, “Has anyone told you, your son”–& I can always finish the sentence–“looks like John Legend”. Yes, they have. ALL. THE. TIME. So leading up to his first birthday, I decided to post a humorous TBT of my son. Eudoxie comments, Eniko Hart likes it, and then it starts to blow up. By morning, he had 4k likes on just my page, and two reposts. It hit 10k likes before noon. I had never gotten more than 500 likes on a picture, therefore didn’t expect ANY of this at all.

Jackson IG pic 2Jackson IG

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The Surrogate Husband

        Mama’s boys. You have either dated or married one, or have a friend that has married one. Some convert & grow out of it…and some do not…but they did not make themselves mama’s boys…their mothers did! It is becoming more & more common for women to make their son “the man of the house”. “I don’t need a man, I have my son.” Your son is NOT your husband. I have a few friends that are single moms, raising sons & I think they do a great job of saying what their sons will & will not do, & making sure that their sons know, that they are not equal & not friends, but can still understand how to treat a girl/woman. If only more women took on that thought process. As a woman, not only is it a turn off to other men to see that, but imagine your son dating…
        You would think that it teaches men on how to be husbands, but it does far more harm than good. The surrogate husband syndrome creates an unhealthy, co-dependent kind of relationship, which can cause a man to be incapable of having a mature, healthy relationship; & yet, you end up dating this man. He didn’t have to answer to his mom because he was the “MAN” so why would he ever answer to you? He has been handicapped by his mother, & usually lacks responsibility. He feels his mom will fall apart if he so much as moves to another zip code, or has to call her for advice on every little thing. Anything you suggest, hold on–let me call my mom. If the man that you are dating does not know how to say no to his mother, that’s a problem. If he lets his mom say whatever to you, that’s a problem, however, you can not, & I repeat, you can not change that man! He has to recognize it & want to change it for himself.
        There is hope! A recovering mama’s boy knows when to shut his mom off. He knows when his mom is becoming overwhelming to you & if he does not know it, he does not get up upset when you tell him that she is a little overbearing. Even if they have attended “mama’s boys anonymous” they WILL sometimes slip. You will have to learn to pick your battles–with her & him. It is rare that you should ever have to check his mom…that his for him to do. If he is an only child, that hold of letting go of “her baby” because another woman is in his life, may take some time, & again, you will have to pick your battles. If she hasn’t cut the string & more than likely, he is not reaching for the scissors, than you will have to coax him into setting boundaries. The deliverance of this, however, is crucial. You can’t catch an attitude, or belittle him, or flip out…this will lead to him shutting down on you. A mama’s boy will also always say that he is NOT a mama’s boy, so to constantly say this, would be an insult to him, hence instead, chuckle inside, & proceed with caution! Although you want to be the first lady in his life, you don’t want him to think he has to choose…so then, you marry him…first, make sure you always have wine on deck, & second, the best thing you could ever do to correct this vicious cycle, is when you have a son, don’t become your worse enemy!

Welcome to my intro!

Welcome to the intro to my blog…my thoughts are not those of an angry black woman, but of a successful, sensible, happy woman…enjoy & I look forward to your feedback !

Over the years, I am sure you have heard your mom and/or grandma say one or all of these sayings:
A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach…Be a lady in the street & a freak in the bedroom…Always wear matching panties, because you never know who may see them…Romance without finance is a nuisance…
But are we actually listening to this?

Maybe…maybe to get the man, but what about to keep him, & if you keep him, what about keeping him at HOME??
Men are considerably less complex than we are, however quite intuitive, hence they can usually see right through the surface. Back in the day, it actually worked for women to go to college to find their husband, with the ultimate goal of being a house wife. Today, not so much. Even watching the movie “The Help”, the scene were Skeeter goes to dinner on a blind date, & her date is being an ass, because he thinks she is just there to get her husband, & to become a trophy wife, is a great example of the fact that even in the 1960s, men can see straight through women. Their guard is practically always up, & whether right or wrong, they are always assuming that women have an ulterior motive. It shows when you genuinely want to do things, which is hugely important. You have to be genuine, which is why Basketball wives is a prime example of how not being genuine can turn out…divorced or just a baby mama… This is men in general…

Now on to the BLACK MAN….
Black men are clowns…& if you can relate to that, then STOP DATING THE CLOWNS & get a successful black man…this is definitely not to say that there aren’t any successful black man that are clowns, but since you know the signs, steer away quickly. Either way, statistically, black men have far more options than black women.If you want to have, keep, & maintain a relationship with a “successful black man”, you have to first recognize they have PLENTY MORE options. I’m sure as you may know & already experienced, they think they are a hot commodity…well in essence, they kind of are, so IF you want one, act like it. Yes, you are gorgeous, sexy, fine, & have a job, but what else? You have to bring more to the table than just your good looks (i.e. good credit!!!!)…too many of us think that being cute & sexy is, & should be enough…well, sweetie, it is not. Black men already half way think chivalry is dead, and we are allowing it, by not bringing more to the table…A recent article in The Wall Street Journal stated that nearly 70% of black women are unmarried & 3 out of 10 college grads have never married by age 40 versus less than half of their white women counterparts. Black men are less likely to marry in general vs their white counterparts, & because black men have more racial options, they are now less likely to marry us!

We are already statistically less desirable from men in other races, so we can date outside our race but it is clearly easier for a black man. Perhaps, instead of hating the white woman that got the successful black handsome man, we could learn how to emulate the things that they may do different from us…maybe the only difference is that they actually listened when their mom/grandma spoke the phrases I mentioned earlier, (which I will expand on individually in future blogs) because the caviar to that is that black men don’t care about the race, as long as their needs are met, & would honestly prefer to have those needs met, with a woman that would understand them the most…a black woman.

Back to the simplicity of men. Sex. Food. Nuisance. They want sex, not just sex but good sex with “extra benefits” (at minimum-a bj), on a full stomach (not on ramen noodles) & to not have a headache caused by you (running your mouth too d*mn much). In turn, a chivalrous successful black man, at home, with you…