Since I'm now about halfway through cooking this babe, it's obviously time to repost the Pregnancy Cheese Chart, a week by week guide to the size of your fetus, by cheese. Is Your Fetus More of a Cheddar or a Blue?
I like painting my nails. It’s sort of how I like cleaning the bathroom, a small room that can be done in an hour. I can’t handle the commitment to a daily makeup or hair routine, my clothes are a mess, but I can find a color that makes me happy, and throw it on … Continue reading My D&C, Or: I Know It Was Supposed To Be Terrible, But It Wasn’t & Here’s Why, Or: On Barbecue & Babies, Manicures & Miscarriage
Two funny stories One: About a year ago, I was courted to be a mommy blogger. For real! Like, for money. Lololololol. And I wrote some things, emails stopped, payment never came, etc. I moved on to other things, like having another baby and moving across the country. But I have these funny sort of … Continue reading Interests Include Mommy Blogging & Tandem Nursing
It's no secret to anyone who has known me for any amount of time (or sometimes even to the nice mom I meet in the coffee shop, within about five minutes of chatting--sorry, nice person!) that I have struggled with depression and anxiety for most of my life. Like many chronic illnesses, it ebbs and … Continue reading How I Cope
Armed with the belief that cheese > all things, especially lettuce, and a pretty solid working knowledge of the weight of individual cheese wheels (or in the case of the early weeks, the weight of bits and bobs of cheese), I correlated estimated fetal weight by week with the weights of wheels of delicious, delicious cheese. So now you can tell people your growing babe is the size of a wheel of meaty, savory cow's milk cheese, handcrafted by members of the (THE) vonTrapp family, rather than a sad Idaho Gold.
Here I am again, knowing I just can't know who this human inside of me is. I don't get to pick, I don't get to know until she decides to let me know. And I trust with even more faith than I should be humanly capable of possessing that I will love this child, with more love than I have, with more love than I know to exist in the whole world, but it really seems impossible to love anything more than I love my little, tangible family right now.
This pregnancy is different. I mean, they're all different, right? Every baby is different, every pregnancy is different, every stretch mark is like a special snowflake of love that represents the unbreakable maternal bond and the whole of the history of humankind, right there in the scarred tread marks of life's snow tires. I think … Continue reading twenty eight weeks