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the one that’s hard to write
It’s taken me a while to write this post, mostly because I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to write it. But as a writer, this is how we heal. Writing, in a weird sense, gives permission to move forward. So here I am, writing this post, in a place where moving forward seems hopeful and happy. Postpartum depression is a real thing, happening to around 3 million moms each year, some may even be reading this right now. When my son was born, I found myself in unknown territory that went beyond the baby blues. The feelings of being inadequate, hopeless, sad, resentful and even selfish overwhelmed my already…
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the sound of silence
Newborn. Toddler. Dog. Husband. Right now all 4 are sleeping, taking naps to re-charge for the rest of the day (except my dog, that’s all she does these days). I’m on my keyboard, that being the only sound aside from the snores of my beagle and the air conditioner. I miss this silence. When things are quiet and I can actually sit with my own thoughts, embracing and soaking in the stillness. It doesn’t last long. At this particular time we are maneuvering the demands of a toddler and the needs of a newborn. Both happening at the same time, and both carrying the same amount of importance and priority.…
