This Body Isn’t Me
This postpartum body of mine is a casualty of all the sacrifices and compromises I’ve made in only 4 years.
This postpartum body of mine is a casualty of all the sacrifices and compromises I’ve made in only 4 years.
This Mother’s Day, I have a wish for us moms: you are a whole woman. A whole person. You are a mom; and so much more.
It’s ok to love your first child differently once their sibling is born.
When I found out I was pregnant with Spawnita, I was still busy fighting off post-partum depression from my first pregnancy. And I was terrified.
We all look forward to getting both adorable and useful gifts for our babies. But let’s keep it real: Moms need a registry, too.
My cheat sheet to get that coveted rush hour seat. Which should be mine anyway.
Don’t believe the hype about summer pregnancies. Winter is the real MVP.
Only one of us is pregnant. End of story.
For Merriam-Webster’s consideration in the next edition of their dictionary.
A peek at 15 minutes in the 3rd trimester. On a loop.
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