I want another baby. And, no, not just in the hypothetical, “wouldn’t it be nice if…” type of way. I want another baby in the practical, full desire to grow my family, “I long for a baby in my womb now and am no longer taking active steps to prevent it” type of way. There.
Helicopter parents are a readily identifiable species: Omnipresent, hovering, constantly scanning the area for dangers (both real and imagined) that might warrant swooping in to rescue their beloved child(ren). Many people know at least a few who fit that description, and some of us will recognize ourselves therein. Although I do not know if there
Our first pregnancy came almost exactly a year after having a miscarriage. We were so excited when we got past the first trimester and could start sharing the news. Course that’s also when I started planning and prepping, everything from room color and decor to types of diapers (we loved those from The Honest Company–you
I had not felt awesome in weeks. I was exhausted beyond exhaustion. I was moodier than normal. My boobs were a little sore every time my kids bumped into me. And, man, was I bloated. Every rational part of me knew that it was the new generic birth control that the pharmacy had given me
Since Trump’s election, I’ve developed a distaste for the news. Never a real news junkie, until recently I’d devour NPR while driving and check Facebook regularly to be an informed citizen. But the state of the world is bringing me down, and I need to turn it off. Maybe it’s the hormones. Maybe it’s the profound disappointment
Guess what? I’m pregnant with our third baby. Seven years ago, I was pregnant for the first time. A lot has changed since then. As a couple, our entire universe has shifted. We live in a different state, have different jobs, different friends, and we’re six years into this wild ride of parenting. So much has changed, yet
Just when I thought my physical exhaustion was overwhelming, I realized my mental exhaustion was worse. I am so, so lucky and privileged. My work at this time is done from home and only takes a few hours a day, sometimes less. I am all set up for my work-at-home mom life and I haven’t
From the moment last April when I shocked the crap out of myself with a positive pregnancy test, everything about my second pregnancy was different from my first. This fact was especially apparent during the last few weeks of the pregnancy. I had given birth to my first at 37 weeks, 6 days and expected to
Dear Baby, Well. Here we are. Still living in the same body. I can’t say I thought I would be blogging this week – I figured that by now I would be kissing your toes and drinking in your smell (well, realistically, that you’d be expelling bodily fluids onto me and keeping up all night).
My hospital bag is packed. My birth class is done. Newborn-sized clothes are washed and ready in their drawers. I am 36 weeks pregnant and basically ready to have this baby. Based on my birth history (my daughter was 2 weeks early) and my mom’s birth history (my brothers and I were 2, 3, and