Hair Loss: This Postpartum Body Series

My eyes flicked up to the mirror and caught, to my horror, a glimpse of my new hairline. “Oh my God!” I gasped as I frantically pawed at my hair, as if I could find those absent hairs hiding somewhere just out of sight. “How long has it been like this?!” I shrieked to my husband.

Click picture or title to view full post.

Introducing: This Postpartum Body series

My goal here - to riff on the immortal words of Justin Timberlake - is to bring normal back. I am going to break it all down, using my postpartum body. Any pang of self-consciousness is not enough to keep me from helping to break down this illusion. Join me in normalizing normal as I highlight some of the common changes that we, as women and mothers, experience in our postpartum bodies.

Click the title to view the full post.

15+ Tips for a More Sustainable Holiday

“The holidays are rife with waste as consumerism runs rampant. And it’s not just all the stuff. It’s the stuff our stuff is wrapped in. It’s the packaging and bubble wrap and boxes and peanuts and tissue paper and wrapping paper covered in glitter and the ribbon and the plastic wrap and the twenty air puff things Amazon felt necessary to pad that super breakable blanket I ordered.”

Click on the title to read full post.

My Postpartum Depression Adventure: Part Two

It was like Aslan’s breath was bringing me - this stone cold Stepford Mom - back to life, like Dorothy seeing the world awash in color after being thrashed about in a monochromatic twister. All of those feelings I had known to be possible, to be true, rushed back: how my heart can swell with such joy and love at the littlest coo, the tiniest twitch of a smile, drinking in the sweet smell of my baby.

Click on the title to read full post.

The Birth of the Blog: This Postpartum Life

I mulled over this seemingly pretentious idea that I, who am not a teacher or picture-perfect Instagram mom or a labor and delivery nurse, was worthy to write a blog about this. But this compulsion to do something nagged at me: to start a conversation, to get out my story in the hopes that it could help one mom, or dad, or grandparent, or sister, or friend, or heck: me.

Click the title to read full post.