I knew I wanted to breastfeed from the moment I found out I was pregnant. Something inside me yearned for that special connection and bond with my son. With the help of my doula, my son latched 30 minutes or so after he was born. That moment confirmed what I already knew: that breastfeeding was meant to be our journey. 

To wean or not to wean? That seems to be the question. Early on in my breastfeeding journey, even when my son was just an itty bitty newborn baby, I was asked several times (by different people), “How long do you plan on nursing?” And it’s a question that has continually come up since.  It doesn’t bother me that people

By my third trimester, I felt like if ONE more person told me “everything was going to change” after the baby was born, I was going to explode. Obviously, I knew things were going to change.  Although, with most things in regards to motherhood, I did not quite grasp how different things would be. Just like I knew I was

As long as my husband and I have been together, we’ve had at least one fur baby. Neither of us could imagine a life or a home without a dog in it. In fact, we’re suspicious of people who “don’t like dogs.” After four years of revolving our world around “children” with four legs, my husband and I decided to

After my son was born, I experienced this strange type of grief. I felt myself grieving that he was no longer so close to me, that he was now living outside my body. It was a little strange because after nine months I thought I was SO ready to not be pregnant anymore.  That grief slowly left and was replaced

As an expecting first-time mom, I was overwhelmed with the information and advice thrown at me. I wrote things down. I read books. I tried to remember everything because it all sounded so important. Then, my son was born, and I was thrust into this new role everyone had been trying to prepare me for.  After some time in the

The first time I remember hearing the term “4th trimester” was three weeks after giving birth to my son. During a postpartum visit, my doula asked how I was doing. Before words could even form, I started to cry. We sat on my couch, my newborn cradled to my chest, and I wept. She put her arm around me, let

I remember the first time I breastfed in public. My son was just shy of 4 weeks old, and I met a friend for coffee. As we looked for seats, she asked if I wanted to sit in the corner. I knew what she was asking (without actually asking it): do you want some privacy for when you have to