Nothing makes me feel quite so inadequate as the sight of a well-dressed woman with a baby nursing discreetly at her breast like a stylish accessory. I have tried nursing bras and nursing tops, blankets, burpies and hooter hiders. I am apparently just not up to the mechanical challenge of covering my breasts while nursing… Continue reading i don’t want to see your boobies
Today Boyd, Lila, Lou and I braved Berkeley Bowl together, our first major grocery run as a family of four. Berkeley Bowl is my least favorite place, but there’s no denying that it’s cheaper and has a better selection than Whole Foods. So, I agreed to go despite the inevitable brushes with patchouli-dipped hipsters “being… Continue reading berkeley bowl
Beautiful Lou was born at 10:56 am on March 7th, weighing 8 pounds, 8 ounces. Everything at the hospital went just great, from the surgery itself to the nurses assigned to me before and after. Lou and I spent four quiet days and nights there in a blissful state of grogginess, gazing at one another… Continue reading presenting lou
Boyd and I agree that this will be our last child. There is a small part of me that feels sad at that idea, and of never experiencing this amazing and miraculous pregnancy thing again. It is, after all, an incredible thing to feel another little body growing and moving inside your own. But mostly,… Continue reading golden girl
Last week I went for my checkup with Dr. A. a day early. I was having all sorts of pain, and Boyd, with the kind of near-hysterical optimism that only someone who lives with a constant kvetcher like me can muster, thought that maybe Dr. A. could help. She took about three minutes to establish… Continue reading hitch
Given my experience when Lila was born, you can see why I would be nervous about this birth. That first time, I did everything “right”: took a childbirth class, worked with a doula, practiced relaxation techniques and did prenatal yoga every day. My diet was perfect, my kegel exercises constant, my iPod cued up to… Continue reading episode one
When your biggest fantasy about your husband is waking him up just so you can punch him in the face, it’s fair to say that things are not good. Lately, the onslaught of pregnancy hormones have combined with sheer exhaustion to create a cocktail of primal rage that is really not good for the marital… Continue reading hell hath no fury
