Your name is Emily. You are loved. Fiercely. You complete our family, and it is hard to imagine being without you. But you don’t exist. You never did. And you never will.
Struggling to find Easter gifts appropriate for your baby or toddler? Get a little creative! Instead of filing a traditional wicker basket, get an item to fill that can be part of the treat.
We may have been safe, but we were not unscathed. I felt the potential catastrophes around each corner. And in the shadows lurked the great What Ifs. The Could Have Beens packed themselves into each crack of my surface.
Somewhere, at some point, a woman sat connected to a pump and had gotten more than her baby could eat. Her lactation donation helped my preemie.
The first day of school would inevitably include the correction of my name in the vast majority of rolls called. It’s not “Rhianna” or “Rhiawwna.” I don’t know why people seem to assume the “n” is silent.
Every new parent goes through that phase when marriage inadvertently crawls to sulk in a dark corner of the basement, hidden by cobwebs, grieving alone.
Mom radar is real and it’s freaking me out. I swear my child has some sixth sense that tells her when I look too comfortable because she wakes up EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
When we got our new house, we painted one of the rooms yellow. I always thought of it as the baby’s room. And then I had fertility issues.
Dear last child of mine, You are the last baby I will hold, the last baby whose soft body I will smell, the last one I will feed and comfort at night.
Fine, I’m not EXACTLY totally finished. There are slots in my daughter’s baby book for photos that are sitting empty that need to be filled. I have to remember what she was given for her fifth birthday party, even though I could confidently guess “princess stuff” and “My Little Pony nonsense” and that would pretty much cover it.
Your name is Emily. You are loved. Fiercely. You complete our family, and it is hard to imagine being without you. But you don’t exist. You never did. And you never will.
Struggling to find Easter gifts appropriate for your baby or toddler? Get a little creative! Instead of filing a traditional wicker basket, get an item to fill that can be part of the treat.
We may have been safe, but we were not unscathed. I felt the potential catastrophes around each corner. And in the shadows lurked the great What Ifs. The Could Have Beens packed themselves into each crack of my surface.
Somewhere, at some point, a woman sat connected to a pump and had gotten more than her baby could eat. Her lactation donation helped my preemie.
The first day of school would inevitably include the correction of my name in the vast majority of rolls called. It’s not “Rhianna” or “Rhiawwna.” I don’t know why people seem to assume the “n” is silent.
Every new parent goes through that phase when marriage inadvertently crawls to sulk in a dark corner of the basement, hidden by cobwebs, grieving alone.
Mom radar is real and it’s freaking me out. I swear my child has some sixth sense that tells her when I look too comfortable because she wakes up EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
When we got our new house, we painted one of the rooms yellow. I always thought of it as the baby’s room. And then I had fertility issues.
Dear last child of mine, You are the last baby I will hold, the last baby whose soft body I will smell, the last one I will feed and comfort at night.
Fine, I’m not EXACTLY totally finished. There are slots in my daughter’s baby book for photos that are sitting empty that need to be filled. I have to remember what she was given for her fifth birthday party, even though I could confidently guess “princess stuff” and “My Little Pony nonsense” and that would pretty much cover it.
