Feeding the Soul
My sleep is easily disturbed by the alarm as it interrupts my dreams, whether I remember them or not, I know they were there. I wish I could pull the covers back up over my one shoulder that is now chilly and was not a moment ago. But instead, I must rise and do my daily morning duty.
Breastfeeding: When Enough Was Enough
My determination to breastfeed should have done something to relieve my sense of wrongness about the birth itself—but every time Alden was weighed (which, between the monthly well-child checks common at this stage and the monthly WIC appointments we had, was often) I was crushed by doubt and guilt.