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?

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.”