There’s a pile of maternity clothes folded on the floor of my bedroom. Even though I’m still shaped like Humpty Dumpty, my maternity clothes don’t fit anymore, so they’re waiting to be sent back to the attic. They’re sitting in my closet, under my regular clothes that don’t really fit either. Ah, postpartum is such
Writing the last part of a birth story is tricky, because everyone already knows the ending. Spoiler alert, here’s how it ends: It’s also hard because, when this was happening I was in a certain amount of…distress? Is that the word? No. Pain? Suffering? No, none of those words are strong enough. I was in
Tom got home from his wild night on the town at 10:42 p.m. I know the exact time because, before he went to bed, he leaned down and woke me up with a kiss on the cheek. I lifted my head from my pillow and said, “Why did you do that? You just woke me
Nine months ago, Tom started getting up with David. He let me sleep an extra half hour or so while they did guy stuff like talk in grunts and leave their underwear on the bathroom floor. Every now and then Tom would have an early meeting or a doctor’s appointment and I didn’t get that
My baby is the size of a watermelon and my due date is on the horizon; just one week away. I know I’ve mentioned this before (so consider this a reminder to myself): this time I’m trying to look beyond the horizon. Even though well-meaning strangers tell me I won’t be late with this baby
My best and dearest and oldest friend has six kids. That means she’s spent over four and a half years of her life pregnant, and for ten years she’s been either pregnant or nursing. She recently said, “I don’t nest. I hibernate.” We don’t agree on everything; she thinks I’m super human because I run
When I wrote this post I forgot one detail about pregnancy. I wasn’t even 30 weeks pregnant when I wrote it, and back then I forgot that you reach a point in pregnancy when you’ll do pretty much anything to just be done already…you’ll even endure the most extreme, the unthinkable…you’ll go through labor and
When I was pregnant with David, every time I had a doctor’s appointment I’d wear a polyester-blend sundress, preferably sleeveless, with teeny tiny flip flops so that when they weighed me my number wouldn’t include any superflous clothing weight. This time, even though I’m having another summertime baby, it’s been too cold to wear any
I was really looking forward to Easter Sunday. Really, really looking forward to it. But then my son and the rest of my extended family came down with Flu-nami 2013. It hit everyone differently, but it leveled David for six days. It started with vomiting, clinginess and a fever, and ended with diarrhea and grumpiness.
I never wrote David’s birth story, but here are the Cliffs Notes: My first pregnancy was normal, healthy and relatively easy as far as pregnancies go. (Even though it did go on a little longer than I would have liked…) Labor and delivery was the same. Sure, there were moments of drama (and it went