motherhood

My breastfeeding journey continues

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

Hey there! I’m back. I’m hoping that I will be able to continue updating you on my motherhood journey. In honour of Black Breastfeeding Week I’ve decided to share my breastfeeding journey with you.

For those of you who don’t know I gave birth to my third born daughter two weeks ago. It’s been a journey but we are all doing well. I’m learning (again) to be flexible with myself and my family but it’s not easy. I like things a certain way and at times it just feels like everything is falling on me. All because if I don’t do it, it most likely will not get done in a time efficient manner that could’ve been invested in other projects and tasks that would greatly help me be a better mother and wife but alas here we are…transitioning.

One thing I am grateful that doesn’t need much transitioning however is breastfeeding. I am grateful that my daughter was able to latch within an hour of her birth. We got to do skin to skin and she was amazing. I’ve been feeding her on demand, which is whenever she wants to as opposed to every two hours like I did with my first born. That method almost drove me insane and borderline into postpartum depression.

Now I completely understand that most infants need to be reminded to wake up and drink that milk, especially when breastfeeding because they need to gain weight for starters. There’s tons of nutrients in that colostrum that they may not get again which is helpful to their survival. It also helps us mothers to get that milk production going. Of course, engorgement will follow and that’s annoying but it benefits us all. However, sometimes baby knows best. As long as you’re trying and doing your best, Mama you’re doing amazing.

All of my girls have been amazing feeders when it comes to the breast and absolutely hated formula or the bottle regardless of whether or not there was breastmilk in the bottle. I remember my first born and I going at it because I genuinely allowed those around me guilt me into believing that my daughter needed to be bottle fed. Also when you’re told that your babies are a problem because they refuse to drink from the bottle, it can trigger some guilt and shame as a mother. But now that I’ve got my third I’m grateful that I can have that bonding moment and appreciate it for what it is.

It is a bit harder this time around because I still have a four year old and a soon to be two year old who still want my attention. There are times when I can’t get to the baby right away. Sometimes I have to put a pause on the dinner preparation to feed the baby. Most of the time, I’m breastfeeding and acting as a referee between the older two. These ideas of being able to sit in a rocking chair having that bonding moment like I did with my firstborn are not happening. These are kinds of expectations I have to let go. For example, having peace and quiet while breastfeeding is not happening anymore. In fact it’s the opposite.

What has proven to be helpful when I breastfeeding is making sure that I have a bib around on the baby. It’s easy to clean up spit ups and regurgitation from the baby. Sometimes the occasional milk let down, especially during the engorgement period. A good nipple cream helped me so much when I nursed my first born. My nipples would crack and it would hurt so much. Speaking to a lactation consultant was crucial for me. It also gave me the confidence to keep trying again. Another important one is having a friend who’s done it before. They sometimes have the most invaluable advices. But most importantly, knowing that you’re not a failure for doing your best. At the end of the day fed is best. If breastfeeding isn’t for you and your little one that’s ok. Just do what’s best for the both of you.

I hope this has been useful and helpful. Below are a list of things I personally loved using while breastfeeding.

https://www.shopltk.com/explore/sandyesprit/posts/f87cdea7-0604-11ec-83a6-0242ac110003

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Shocking Pregnancy Symptoms

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

Hey there! Thank you so much for checking out my blog post. I’m currently pregnant with my third child and I swear there are some things I thought I would be ok with but find myself still surprised by. Some of them are things that I’ve forgotten about and others just sneak up on me and catch me by surprised. Without further ado let’s get into it.

Hyperpigmentation

When I was pregnant with my first born back in 2017, nobody had ever warned me about my skin getting darker. I had seen these gorgeous women with their baby bump and they looked so flawless. Meanwhile by the time I was nearing the end of my second trimester I looked like I had been bleaching my face. From the neck down my skin had turned at least five shades darker. Believe I wish I was exaggerating. I became very self conscious to the point that I was afraid to even wear my actual foundation. The difference was so noticeable.

Turns out this is very common. This is called melasma or chloasma and it goes away after pregnancy. Usually it starts looking like a blotchy dark patches and goes away after the baby comes out. In my case the patches just joined together until my skin was blanketed with this new skin tone. It was a very confusing time and since my mom had never experienced this, it was confusing for her too. Thank goodness for Google.

Pain, pain and more pain

I was “ok” with the morning sickness because I expected it. It came, I complained and prayed it didn’t last the whole pregnancy and half way through the second trimester it was gone I was good. Then came the back pain. It just always feels like my back is screaming at me for gaining weight. You’d swear we were having an internal civil war.

Then the ligament pain. My pelvic bone and butt muscles don’t see eye to eye right and since Tylenol is the only pain medication I can take, I have resigned and made it my friend. These pain is my body making room for the delivery of my child and it’s a sign that my body is doing it’s job. The hormones that has been released is relaxing my lower regions so that my baby has enough room to come out in. However, this “relaxing” feature isn’t relaxing me. It’s in fact doing the opposite.

Insomnia

You’d think I’d be able to sleep through the night because the baby isn’t here, right? Nope! Absolutely wrong. In fact, it’s common. Between the baby training for the real world Olympics or whatever exercises it’s doing in there, to my bladder no longer having the room to store as much urine as it did before it’s hard to sleep and/or stay asleep. I wish I could say it gets better. Unfortunately, that has not been my experience.

In conclusion

Pregnancy has its highs and lows. Some of them are tolerable some of them just suck. It’s completely fine to enjoy this process because honestly it’s a feat that only you get to experience in your way. Not every journey is the same and some come with unforeseen obstacles. Remember that this to shall pass. Until, enjoy the process as much as you can.

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Hyaluronic Acid…Why I love it

/ Sandy Esprit / 1 Comment

Hi there! Thank you so much for checking out my blog. I completely and wholeheartedly appreciate you being here. Since, I’m still going strong on my #nablopomo post, I figured now would be a good time to introduce my love of Hyaluronic acid.

Just letting you that know that this blog contains affiliate links that if you choose to purchase from will provide me with a few coins tossed my way. You won’t pay more money, in fact you may save money. This is just another way you can support me.

Ever since I entered the age of the late 20’s, I noticed my skin began to change. It used to always be combination oily come rain or shine, winter or summer but as of late it changes with the weather or I should say the season. I use to be able to get away with one skin care regimen for the whole year and as long as I did not default or neglect my regimen my skin would behave. Until I noticed the dry flaky patches on my skin that would appear during the cold winter months.

Turns out that no matter how much melanin your skin possesses getting older doesn’t discriminate and neither does it’s effects. As we get older hyaluronic acid which is naturally made in our bodies decreases. Once that decreases, wrinkles and fine lines start to set in. But even before all of that, moisture retention also goes on the decline hence the appearance of dry skin.

What is Hyaluronic Acid, you may ask. It is this gooey, clear liquid that our bodies naturally produce mostly in the skin, connective tissues and eyes. It’s job is retain water also known as moisture. Water is very important since it makes up about 60% of the human body. That’s why it’s so vital to our health to stay hydrated.

Hyaluronic acid is a force to be reckoned with in most skin care products because of its hydrophilic properties and it’s ability to retain moisture. By applying on the skin I can provide my skin the ability to keep its moisture which takes care of those dry patches and keeps those fine lines at bay.

So far I’ve been the Hyaluronic Acid Hydrating Serum from the Inkey List. It contains 2% hyaluronic acid. It’s made such a huge difference in my face. You don’t need a lot and the price is so perfect that I don’t have to worry about breaking the bank. I love that I can get it at Sephora because I know that I can get cash back with my purchase by using Ampli. You can too. All you have to do is sign up and when you do use the code AMPLI5. You’ll get $5 automatically just for signing up.

What’s your favourite serum at the moment?

Rating: 1 out of 5.
#fbf Intentions matter. When you wake up in the morning what plans do you have for the day? If it’s to survive another day then that’s what you’ll do. If you have a detailed to do list then that’s what you’re day will look like. Whatever you set your sights on is what you’ll manifest. That’s why I love it when I see my friends accomplish their goals because it reminds me that hard work really does pay off but most importantly dreams do come true. Happy Monday! This pic makes me smile. My eldest was so happy to have a swing at this piñata. It reminds that most of life’s challenges often require a few hits before we get the treasure that lies within them. Motherhood: the hood that has me feeling all the feels that I love and hate at the same time. It makes absolutely no sense and I can’t really explain it but…if you know you 💕🥰 These @ardellbeauty Aqualashes are giving me “Main Character” energy and I’m here for it! I gave birth and then within six weeks we packed up the house and moved into a bigger one. When is the time to reach out for help? Allow yourself to be happy. Take this moment and breathe it in. We’re finally in our new house and we love it here. I’ve moved around my entire life so I was pretty prepared but moving is EXHAUSTING! Here’s what I’d recommend for all future movers

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My Pregnancy Body Image

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

When it comes to body image we’ve all had our ups and downs. As a teen, I was a late bloomer. The only thing that developed was my uterus and my height. Aside from that, I was a skinny, awkward, lanky flat chested girl. My hair never grew past my shoulders because back then I didn’t have the resources I have now. My mom waited way too long to get me first bra, mind you I don’t think it would’ve been filled with much. I outgrew clothes as quickly as I got them in my closet. My skin care routine was non existent and so my face was full of acne. My peers on the other hand, were blessed with curves, hair and make up. I was the ugly duckling in my crew.

When I got older and got my first job I was finally able to take some form of control over my appearance but it took years of learning to appreciate what was there. As a young woman, I was often told to cover up my non existent curves lest I be seen as the Jezebel and make the men fall in lust with my body. Those horny depraved minds lusted after anything with legs and it really had nothing to do with what I wore. I was tall, I was pretty without makeup and a friendly attitude to back it until you got on my bad side. Then well…you got the gist.

Unfortunately, due to the people around me and their “overprotective” counsels I developed a very strange idea of what my body looked like. I began to see what they saw and did my best to eliminate any source of sin. As a Christian, I made it my mission to look “modest”. I wore clothes that were way too big for me. It wasn’t uncommon to be told that my skirt was too short or my butt looked too big. For those of you who didn’t know me back then, I was a size 4. Yup a whole single digit, size 4.

Well, I got out of that toxic situation after ten years. But it took me awhile to reset my vision of my physical image and to fully come to love the creation that God made me to be. Once I fully embraced myself, I got pregnant. What should’ve been a beautiful experience became a nightmare from hell.

I literally thought I could love my body no matter its size and it turns out I didn’t. In fact, I’m currently going through my third pregnancy and I’m still fighting this rhetoric. I don’t feel beautiful. I don’t feel sexy and I don’t feel confident showing my body. I feel like that thirteen year old gawky and awkward teenager trying to get through my entire house without crashing into anything. I have no idea how wide I am and my body is so sore all the time. When I try to explain this to people all I hear “You’re not fat, you’re pregnant!” and the truth is I’m both. I am fat and I am pregnant. There’s nothing wrong with being fat, but there’s something wrong with me.

I know I’m not supposed to feel this. I know that my body is a machine that custom built for this and every life that I carry. But I have this belly that I can’t hide. These hips that just protrude out of my side. My butt jingles and I keep seeing pockets of fat deposits on my thighs. I wish it could be as simple as after the baby is born, I could lose the weight but the truth is. Losing weight postpartum is really hard.

When I had my second born, I actually gained weight postpartum. My mom actually commented on my weight and I felt so small. I am trying so hard to love my body for what it is and I can’t even comprehend what is happening or why it’s happening. I am breastfeeding and eating right and yet I can’t lose the weight. It took me 9 months to get this weight and to manage it, and here I am postpartum still feeling like an insecure teenager. I’m supposed to be over this. This body is the same body that carried these children. The same body, my babies cling to when they want to be comforted. This same body provides nurture, care and a haven of safety for my loved ones and yet all I see is the flaws, I have been told to hate.

I don’t know if this is body dysmorphia, but I know I don’t see an accurate picture of myself or maybe I do and that’s why I’m having such a hard time with this. I wish I could say that I love the way I look because the truth is I don’t. I am most comfortable showing my face and my hair because it still looks normal to me. I have a slight double chin but I can hide that with a contour stick. Everything else is just…ugh!

I wish I knew how to fix it. I don’t. I do hope that this sparks a conversation.

To you, who understands how I’m feeling you’re not alone. No matter how we feel, the truth is we are beautiful.

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My toddler won’t sleep…

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

It’s currently 4:07 am and my one year old has been fighting sleep since 3:30 pm. Smack dab in the middle my sleep is interrupted by the constant whimpering that slowly progress into full blow cry. As I’m hearing this I’m debating whether or not I should get out of bed. I know she’s ok, she’s never really been much a sleeper.

She’s good with laying down in her crib but the falling asleep stage had always been a struggle. Even now as she lays her head on my chest, she’s moving and squirming, making herself comfortable as my heart heartbeat serves as an internal lullaby and my growing fetus is currently kicking around.

Her eyes are open but her gaze is sleepy. She’s tired. We both know it. So I do what any Christian mother would do. I pray. I pray and I speak over my child. I command the angels to watch over her. I pray hoping for the miracle that my baby needs to sleep through the night. I pray in Jesus’ name and I wait. I hear nothing. I get up and I leave. Once I close the door the whimpering return and I’m left feeling more hopeless than when I went in. This isn’t the first time and yet here we are still faced with this predicament.

Should I pick her up? Should I bring her into my bed? Did she have a nightmare? Is this a night tremor? Maybe she napped too long. Or maybe not enough. Let’s go through Google on this. I’m already awake so I might. Lord knows I need answers. Once again, equipped with my smartphone in my hand, I use my external brain to find an answer that will help. I’m sure there there’s a mommy blog out there with the answers I need.

Sure enough there is. In fact, there’s plenty. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one. Of course, the reasons of why this could be happening isn’t a clear cut diagnosis. Since toddlers lack the ability to accurately express themselves. To be honest, at 34 years of age I find myself at times unable to accurately express myself except through tears. So it makes sense that a child who’s been on this side of life for less than two years would also have this issue. It’s not her fault

The first thing that I notice is the need for patience and lots of it. All of this is normal and like most people, this too shall pass. I personally would hope that it could’ve passed months ago, but no. Once again, patience and grace is required for this challenge. This is not just her challenge, it’s ours. We both are tired and awake. We are both annoyed. We are both sleepy. Both of our sleep has been interrupted for some unknown reason. My otherwise happy toddler is now annoyed by this unforeseen grievance and is calling out for my help to navigate through this trying and at best find the solution to this.

Umm, I don’t know who lied to her but I don’t have the answers. At best I have Jesus and Google. All I can do is pray and assess. But here we are.

After debating the next best step I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to bring into my bed. I don’t feel like wrestling a toddler tonight. My body has been through enough and is still going through it. I don’t want to be up all night either. I don’t want to hear crying. So I do what I believe is the next best thing. I pick her and lay her in my chest. A mother’s hug is always welcomed. I let my chest be her pillow and allow her to feel safe by my presence. I don’t know if I’m doing it right. But I know that her breathing has slowed down. Her body. I longer tense nor stressed. She’s sleeping peacefully.

It’s moments like these I’m reminded of what patience, grace and love can accomplish. In the moments that it took for me to write this blog post, my little one has fallen asleep. As I’m get ready to bring her back to her bed, I’m aware that this same kind patience shown to be me I must show to myself. Life is a series of transitions. Some are annoying and some are great. How we handle them makes us great.

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Naturalista’s guide to summer hair care

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

When I first started on my natural hair care journey, I did it to better educate myself on my hair so that I could be equipped to take care of my daughter’s hair. So many mistakes were made on my hair and ultimately left me feeling really self conscious when it comes to my hair and its presentation. Everyday, I see so many beautiful women rocking their crown of glory and I wanted to be able to do that for myself. I figured one day my daughter would want to do that for herself one day, I figured I should be the one to provide her that example. Or at least something to get her started.

Below is a list of tools or rules that I go by to ensure that my hair receives the proper care that it needs to retain it’s curl definition and length. I know that curl, texture, density, etc. plays a role on how we each attend to our tresses’ needs. However, I am a firm believer that one shouldn’t need to spend a whole lot of money or time to achieve your hair goals. When it comes to hair care you can have your cake and eat it too.

Use Salon Quality Hair Colour

There’s this whole notion about natural hair that colour will damage your curls which is false. Colour processing done incorrectly will damage your hair. There’s nothing more or less to it. If you want your hair to be coloured do it. Just make sure that it’s done right and that you follow up with the correct after care. Many salons have even created an at home curated hair colouring system because so many of their clientele could not physically attend their shops anymore.

Does it cost more than your average drugstore box colour? Of course, but it’s an investment at the end of the day. So don’t be afraid to invest in your hair.

Wash Your Hair

Healthy hair starts at the root and the root grows at the scalp. You have to wash your hair to ensure that your scalp is at its healthiest. Yes, this includes a shampoo, conditioner and the occasional deep conditioner. You never want to go more 14 days without washing your hair.

Nowadays there are so many different options to choose from. Here are some of my favourites.

Uncomplicate Your Hairstyle

Last but not least, it is really important to trust the process. Don’t be afraid to try something new. My usual go to hairstyle is a Wash and Go but a Flexi Rod set is also a great way to get to a different curl pattern by physically manipulating the hair strands without chemically altering or compromising your natural hair pattern this summer.

I hope this was helpful. Please let me know what are some of the tools you use to get your hair thriving during the summer?

#fbf Intentions matter. When you wake up in the morning what plans do you have for the day? If it’s to survive another day then that’s what you’ll do. If you have a detailed to do list then that’s what you’re day will look like. Whatever you set your sights on is what you’ll manifest. That’s why I love it when I see my friends accomplish their goals because it reminds me that hard work really does pay off but most importantly dreams do come true. Happy Monday! This pic makes me smile. My eldest was so happy to have a swing at this piñata. It reminds that most of life’s challenges often require a few hits before we get the treasure that lies within them. Motherhood: the hood that has me feeling all the feels that I love and hate at the same time. It makes absolutely no sense and I can’t really explain it but…if you know you 💕🥰 These @ardellbeauty Aqualashes are giving me “Main Character” energy and I’m here for it! I gave birth and then within six weeks we packed up the house and moved into a bigger one. When is the time to reach out for help? Allow yourself to be happy. Take this moment and breathe it in. We’re finally in our new house and we love it here. I’ve moved around my entire life so I was pretty prepared but moving is EXHAUSTING! Here’s what I’d recommend for all future movers

Let’s connect. Check out my Link In Bio page to connect with me on my social media platform.

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Bittersweet Mother’s Day

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

This year is bittersweet. I live in Ontario where we seeming to be in a never ending lockdown. It’s taking a toll on me mentally and in a way that I wasn’t prepared for. I have exasperated all of my self care arsenal and after the bomb has gone off I’m left cleaning up my own mess.

Mother’s Day has been awkward for me. From the moment that I gave birth to my firstborn and now four years later, two kids later and three pregnancies later I find it really hard to celebrate. It’s like a birthday that everyone forgets about until the day off. The worst part is my birthday is often forgotten to begin with. Those who remember Mother’s Day are usually the ones old enough to do for themselves or to remind their father to do something for their mother. My kids are still very young. I should be the one reminding them of what today means to me but to be honest I don’t know what it means to do.

In the past, I’ve tried to celebrate Mother’s Day with my own mom and it wasn’t always received well. I remember when I was told, “If you loved me you would obey me. You would do your chores. That’s love.” That stayed with me. I knew that I could never measure up to that standard because everyday there was something I couldn’t do.

I guess it started from there. Now I’ve got my own and I wish it wasn’t so. I see mothers being celebrated by their husbands and children. Some are going away on trips and receiving lavish gifts. Meanwhile, I’m in the middle of potty training a very strong willed 20 month old and dealing with a four year old with enough sass to punch every nerve in my body. There’s a growing pile of laundry that needs to be addressed before I run out of sweat suits and underwear. There’s a stain in the kitchen floor that been bothering me for days. There’s feeling of missing out as I see mothers enjoying wine while I’ve got an unborn treating my uterus like a gymnasium.

I could say I’m tired but that would be understatement. In all honesty, I don’t know what I am anymore. Is it exhaustion? Is it tired? Is it depression? Is it failure? Is it heaviness? Sadness? Hormones? I don’t know.

If you’re in the same boat as me this post is for you. I see you. We’re carrying the mental and spiritual load of our loved ones so they can keep smiling and they feel loved. We want them to be remembered to feel validated at the cost of our existence. We want to give them an experience contrary to the experience that we are living. We are doing our best in a world that continues to tell us that we are coming up short. The nights are longs. The sleep is restless. We struggle to make sense of what is happening based on our past experiences. We want to show up and to serve our loved ones well. We’re seeking help without being a burden to those who love us and those we love. We want to be seen. We want to be validated. We want to live in every sense of the word without reservations.

This post is for you. You wake up everyday hoping that this is the day everything will fall into place. You hope that your past will be contradictory to your future. You wake up hoping to see your prayers answered without something bad happening alongside the good. You want to enjoy today because it’s precious. You hope today is different from yesterday.

This day is for you. There’s enough room for you this Mother’s Day. There’s enough room to laugh, to cry, to enjoy and to mourn. There’s enough room to seek help, to find peace and have rest. This Mother’s Day is for you too. It’s not exclusive for the Instagram mom who’s got it all together. This Mother’s Day is not exclusive to the rich and wealthy. It’s for the struggling, it’s for the fighters who are serving through the pain and tears. If you haven’t slept in years or maybe you do sleep soundly, this day is for you. If you’ve made some bad choices, this Mother’s Day is for you. If no one in your family remembers to celebrate you, this day is for you too. I celebrate you.

I celebrate me. It won’t look like what I post online. I don’t know if I’ll put on some make up. I’m sure I’ll be chasing my toddler around with the miniature potty trying to avoid as many spills as possible. Of course, unsuccessfully. I’ll be doing the laundry since it can’t be done by itself. I’ll be receiving kisses and hugs as a form of love. I know I’ll get lots of “Happy Mother’s Day!” from strangers and loved ones alike. This day won’t be memorable for me. But I see me. I see my work and I know my worth.

This day is for me too.

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Show up And Serve

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

I woke up this morning and I was absolutely miserable. I mean, literally woke up ready to cry my eyes out. I didn’t get a chance to process my emotions as I was trying to understand how I could wake up from my sleep and still feel like I haven’t slept at all. Those are the worst kinds of sleep. Needless to say I was exhausted physically. As I was contemplating getting out of bed and justifying delaying my morning routine while everyone was still sleeping, I heard my youngest call out to her father. He was just about ready to go to work. Of course, I got up, got her and brought her to my bed. Sometimes, I can get her to lay down with me for a while, while I gather my thoughts together.

It wasn’t long before my husband came into the room and needed me to take care of something that needed my immediate attention. This is not the way I wanted to begin my morning. I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts. It was being taken from me, moment by moment. Piece by piece. With my head on my pillow, I placed my arm over my eyes, avoiding the emotional flood that was about to hit me. I knew it was coming. All the alarm bells were going off and I couldn’t evacuate.

Is there anything I could have done?

As I laid there, all I did was try to find the missing link. I needed to find the culprit. I knew it was me. I knew that I was stressed about things I couldn’t control. But, there’s this innate desire in me to fix all that is broken. My online presence was suffering and all I could do was see my shortcomings. Could I have done anything differently? I wasn’t making any money. All these prospects were drying up. I was becoming as irrelevant as I had believed myself to be. Maybe I had been over confident, I overshot my shot. I should have just done what always works, that is being afraid and running away.

Truth is, I don’t want to go back to the way things were. There’s nothing wrong with being working a 9-5 but it’s not for me. I can’t do it. I can’t work for someone else making enough money to pay half of bills. I can’t go back to spending my energy being someone other than me for majority of the time. I am not that person. I don’t want to be successfully broke. I don’t want to update my resume in hopes that some government worker is going to take pity on the fact that I’m a minority who is also bilingual. Mind you that hasn’t worked either.

What to do?

Someone commented on a post I made and what they said resonated with me.

“We don’t give up. We keep showing up and eventually things will get better.”

You know what? She’s right. I don’t know what will happen in a month or two. All I have is the last four months to go on. I know something’s got to change and it will. I know it won’t happen overnight and I still have a lot of learning. There are still some major life transitioning phases that I will have to navigate. I can only my best with what I have. My only hope is that it’s enough.

We need to be inspired effectually and effectively. You and I both know that this world is far from perfect. For years, we’ve been told what is and is not acceptable by people who have the funds to sell their message. We’ve bought their message and believe their story to only find out that it was a lie all along. This is not the kind of message I want my daughters to believe.

I started this to prove to myself that I have what it takes to be the woman that my children can be proud to call their mother. But most importantly, I need to prove to myself that I am not wasted potential. I am not just an influencer or that girl who used to be smart. I am not just a housewife that is dependent on her husband for a paycheck. I am not a poser on the ‘gram trying to get like and comments. I am more than that.

I am a living and breathing testimony that anything can happen if you’re willing to have faith and put in the work. I have seen domestic abuse first hand. I know what it’s like to be homeless. I know what it’s like to be an undocumented immigrant. I know what it’s like to feel rejected, to be told that your feelings are invalid. I know to be knocked off a pedestal that was build for you by those who “believed” in you just to be knocked down and have your head hit the ground. The reason is I keep coming back is because I have a job to do.

I have to serve my community, near and far. I may not be remembered for my work but as long as my words inspire you to get up and keep fighting for your destiny then I have done my job. If you are able to relate to this and still choose to get up and keep going then I’m doing my job.

You are living breathing miracle. You have survived all the trauma and criticism you’ve faced. Your energy transcends your presence and continuously affect those you have encountered. Your smile is infectious and cause others to feel at peace. That is a blessing. Better yet, you are a blessing. You may not realize it but your time is coming. Whatever happens, show up and serve.

My Life Changed When…

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

At the age of 30, my life completely changed. The doctor threw this living ball of flesh on my chest after labouring for over 40 hours and pushing for about 1 hour. The first thing she did was grip her hands on my hospital gown. She made a sound of some sort, so I held her close in an awkward, clumsy sort of way. She was so slimy. I whispered, “I got you, I got you.” And I kissed her forehead gently before the nurse took her away and began to wipe her down.

Every birth story is different. But nobody ever forgets their first.

My firstborn is four years old today. I’m proud of the human that has blessed my life. I wish I could take the credit for it all but I can’t. In fact, I don’t think I can take credit for much. I mean I did the best I could. Sure, Google became my best friend. I have had the support from my family and loved ones but really she was really good to me.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell her exactly how I feel but I will try. Maybe one day she’ll see this post and gain understanding as to why I am the way I am, as her mother. As a human being.

My daughter taught me to love consistently and unconditionally. Love isn’t always based on feelings and emotions but it grows and thickens over time. It doesn’t judge based on action. It doesn’t seek revenge or self validation. It gives me grace to grow and provides me with the understanding that I need to grow. I’m not perfect and God knows I’m trying. But with love that’s enough. The act of showing up authentically and truthfully has been the biggest lesson she’s taught me. I am free to be myself and to be better than what I “know” or to do better than “how I was raised”.

In the four years that I have known this little humans, I have grown to be bolder with my voice. I speak up for them. I model the strong woman I aspire for her to be and it’s scary. I influence with my presence, no longer hiding in the background waiting for a seat at the table. Some nights I pray to God that I’m doing the right thing. Then I’ll see her trying to guide her little sister through breathing exercises as a way to de-escalate a potential tantrum with me having to prompt her. Or she’ll look at me when I’m not feeling my best and say the words to get me through the day. Then there are the times she’ll talk back to me and use my own sass against me. Yet still, I love her so much.

My life changed when she taught me to seek the best possible option. I used to settle for whatever I got. She changed that real quick. God used her arrival to reveal to me my identity in Him and in life. My eyes were opened as soon as she took her breath.

I took bold leaps of faith that I would’ve others been too afraid to take because of her. I do things that are unconventional and uncomfortable because I can. And I can because of her.

It’s funny how much wisdom is packed in the mind of a person with just fours worth of life experience. Yet, I find her to be the most challenging and most caring, loving teacher I’ve ever had.

I’m grateful for my life changing event. She’s my life changing event.Happy birthday Mae!

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As A Mother…

/ Sandy Esprit / Leave a comment

In light of recent events, I’ve decided to not post my original blog and write this one instead. This may come off as a rant or maybe it will sound too naive but I feel the need to get this off of my chest. I hope this resonates with you and if it does, please comment below.

Here in Canada, it seems like we have it together. You won’t see much in the news regarding racism. In fact, if anything the racist stuff usually comes from the United States. Often, by the time we see it there is this underlying understanding that no matter how bad racism is here it’s not as bad as it is in the USA. Unfortunately, this false narrative has allowed for many ethnic groups to be denied the ability to speak on issues that not only affect our livelihood but our lives.

I am a mother to two girls and am currently pregnant with another. Pregnancy is not a joke. What’s worse is being dismissed by health care professionals when you bring up a symptoms or concerns. I don’t have all the answers so when I put my trust in the hands of the labour and delivery team, I expect them to followed through with professionalism and due diligence. I don’t expect to be gaslit, dismissed or forgotten. Having a child should be a joyous occasion not a reason for fear.

It’s bad enough that as a Black woman there’s always this thought in the back of my head that all it takes is for my family to be at the wrong place at the wrong for my world to fall apart. My husband goes to work each day and I know that God forbid, he meets someone who’s having “a bad day” not only could his life be endanger but more than likely, as Black people we may never see justice prevail.

It’s hard to be hopeful in a world where injustice seems to be the outcome in every situation where white supremacy has a chance to rule. Lady justice is supposed to be unbiased and colourblind in a world where all men are created equal. Yet, nothing has changed to restore faith in those we’ve elected as officials to render true and effective justice. Something as simple as holding murderers accountable once proven guilty is as laughable as a comedic skit. It’s gut wrenching watching another murdered Black man calling his mother just so she could hear his final breath.

How do I explain to my children that we are living in a world that will never see them as equals no matter how nice, how tough, how qualified, how assertive, how feminine or gracious they are? How do I tell them that this is what we as their parents settled for on their behalf? How do I tell my children that the melanin in their skin is a perpetual target on their backs? How do I tell my daughters that they will be sexualized and demonized because they are Black women? That they must maintain their “niceness” and “kindness” when the micro agressions come if they want to keep their jobs? If I give birth to a son, what then? The fact that he’s Black automatically makes him looks like any other “alleged suspect” if law say so.

Yet, through my faith I have learned to be hopeful when it’s darkest. I won’t lie it sure feels dark. We’re in the middle of pandemic. Ontario is in the midst of its third lockdown. I don’t know what my delivery plan will look like when I give birth. I’m afraid. I’m afraid for my kids and my unborn child. I know that my kids will be safe but I won’t be with them. This will be the first time since I’ve had them that they won’t be with either my husband and myself, and I’m scared.

These are the moments that nobody warned me about. Nobody told me how scary motherhood could be. Nobody told me how terrifying being a Black mother could be. I’m afraid for their present and their future. I know how the system works and that’s why I get up every day and work my butt off.

I want them to know the privilege of living. I want to know that they are safe. I want them to believe that they can be anything they want to be. There’s no limit, no matter how hard the media tries to sell this fear, they need to know that it’s not true.

I don’t do it for myself. I do it for them.