The first week after my section I remember thinking, “why would anyone choose to do this again?” But a few weeks later, when I was healing nicely and off of the painkillers, I immediately forgot that sentiment. And then I got pregnant again.
Coming home from the hospital with our first baby was a bit terrifying. We had this teeny, tiny baby in a car seat which looked enormous. I didn’t even know how to adjust the straps on that thing until the nurse showed me how to do it. Driving home I was worried about every bump in… Continue reading The First Week With My Baby
The adorable baby bump held an allure for me when I learned I was pregnant with my first. I had visions of how cute I would look, even though I suspected I would be more of the portly grandma looking pregnant lady instead of the cute, skinny except for the bump type of pregnant lady. Anyway,… Continue reading Dressing the bump – maternity clothes basics
I knew the day would come when my kid would start repeating every bad thing I said. It’s terrible, but I find some of it incredibly funny. I don’t believe that whether or not my child swears is a measure of my success as a parent, or my competence level to be a parent or anything like that.
It wasn’t until my first son was born that I realized I was lacking in the lullaby department. One of my friend’s husband told me that any song you know can be a lullaby if you sing it that way.
My older son has food allergies. Learning that he had them, and learning how to deal with them, has been an ongoing process. I’ve been hoping that by some miracle my baby wouldn’t also have them.
I had read posts in my online moms group about these magical Rock n’ Plays. We did some research on how many hours he would need to be in it to get a weirdly shaped head (18 hours, according to whatever my husband Googled). I figured, what the hell, if we might get some sleep let’s give it a shot.
After I had my first baby, I learned that my entire network of medical professionals were on the lookout for Postpartum Depression, or PPD. I confessed to the pediatrician I just met that before I could leave the house to take in my 6-day old son, my husband had to remind me to stop crying for… Continue reading Suffocating Postpartum Anxiety
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