I often think, Am I squeezing every last bit of goodness, of wonder, of memory out of this amazing life I’m living right now? Am I remembering enough, savoring enough, loving him enough?
All I can do is keep pushing through and hope that by choosing to finally talk candidly about my struggles, I will help at least one other woman to not feel as alone as I did.
This was supposed to be a joyous time, but it didn’t feel joyous. It felt crazy and stressful and out-of-control.
Every day, I am the unseen face of postpartum depression.
I should have been overjoyed that it was only Bell’s Palsy. Instead, I was mildly relieved and extremely sad.
I wonder now, why I waited as long as I did to seek help.
I’m going to feed my little girl when she’s hungry, and if that’s offensive to you, well… you were probably going to be offended anyway.
I want you to know that you’re doing enough; that you are enough. You are more than enough. You are everything to your children.
While the breast may in some ways “be best,” it certainly isn’t “the tits.”
Parenting is the ultimate character workout.