dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: on getting bucked off.
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2014/02/on-getting-bucked-off.html
Wednesday, February 05, 2014. On getting bucked off. Decaf coffee was probably my first bad decision today. Actually, come to think of it, maybe getting out of bed at all was. Today was not my day. I argued with my toddler. I was bitter. I said a four-letter-“s”-word more than once…maybe more than three times. I was ungrateful. And frustrated. And perhaps a bit too eager to throw in the towel. Motherhood makes me feel like a lunatic sometimes. The point, though, is that I fell: off the horse, through the...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: A Letter to New Mama's
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2014/05/a-letter-to-new-mamas.html
Monday, May 26, 2014. A Letter to New Mama's. Dear New Mamma,. Things are crazy right now. Trust me, I get it. Society hides the post-partum period—probably for good reason. The waves of emotion and visitors, the endless nights and laundry piles, the shrill cry of your new little human- and sometimes even the piercing sound of your own sobs. Don’t worry, these feelings don’t last forever. Don’t always flow beside one another. Be yourself, whoever that might be at the moment. Get the job done. Love your b...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: do it again.
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-it-again.html
Friday, February 27, 2009. The halls of Unit 4 reverberate with Mr. Huldorn’s deep tenor voice. Because it is 6pm…and each night at 6pm. He walks up and down the corridor of Unit 4. Hollering. He yells about his wet pants and his recent trip to the bathroom. Mr. Huldorn is fixated on his bowel movements—the very. Of defecation invokes fear and anxiety in him every single day. Mrs Smith sits by her 6th floor window each day. Waiting. Mind doesn’t understand why he doesn’t just. POOP for gosh sakes. And my...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: February 2015
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2015_02_01_archive.html
Friday, February 06, 2015. The best option we've got. It took me 11 years and 8 months to get two extra letters after my name. That’s 4,179 days and almost $200,000 to earn the title of “doctor” and get one of those fancy pen stamps that represents the most-used tool for those of us in the order-signing practice of medicine. This week I spent two days with my young kids at home wiping snotty noses and changing poopy diapers. And I also spent three days in my office; I saw over 65 patients and signed ...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: a slip, not a fall [post-partum depression, part 2]
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-slip-not-fall-post-partum-depression.html
Tuesday, February 18, 2014. A slip, not a fall [post-partum depression, part 2]. The path was worn and slippery. My foot slipped from under me,. Knocking the other out of the way,. But I recovered and said to myself,. It's a slip and not a fall.". 8211; Abraham Lincoln. Was honorable and enjoyable-it reminded me of why living and loving and friendship and faith were such important bookmarks. It was months before I finally starting loving him. I cringe even writing that. Mom’s are supposed to. I gave up m...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: Bigger.
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2014/11/bigger.html
Friday, November 14, 2014. It was the summer after my freshman year of high school. Rumors of the Blair Witch Project spread like wildfire, permeating the air of my gospel-centered mission trip with ash and brimstone. We were on a remote island in Honduras—one where Army-style-showers were required and bathing in torrential downpours were optional, where no cars drove (they weren’t allowed) and the nearest “conveniences” were conveniently 2 hours away…by boat. The fear of the unknown took root. I donR...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: January 2013
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html
Sunday, January 20, 2013. Originally written January 14, 2013. My grandma lost the baby in the bathroom, or so the story goes. It was one of many—gone before the advent of modern. I think of it as the scene in The Help—sweet Cecilia Foote burying those tiny miracles-gone-awry under the rose bushes in her backyard. Except my grandma’s experience probably didn’t involve rose bushes. Or red high heels. We can choose the birthdate. So. Many. Choices. Among them, the choice of DNA samplingR...It seems that...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: catching that ball.
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2014/11/catching-that-ball.html
Sunday, November 09, 2014. This transition has been better—that life-shock that rattles when a new lump-of-a-pooping-baby joins the family. Adley’s entrance was much more predictable, more mellow. In many ways, it was more surprising too. Like the 6 day hospital stay after birth while she glowed in bili lights, fighting off the knife of hemolytic anemia (hello life, surprise! But we are in a better place this time. I’m in a better place this time. To me *I* felt dysfunctional. Perhaps it’s the magi...
dailypieces.blogspot.com
[pieces]: broken strings [post-partum depression, part 1]
http://dailypieces.blogspot.com/2014/02/broken-strings-post-partum-depression.html
Sunday, February 16, 2014. Broken strings [post-partum depression, part 1]. My first breakdown was when he was 6 weeks old. I’d fallen asleep nursing (again) and Jon came in to check on us. The end result was a two hour conversation, an entire box of Kleenex tissue, and heaving sobs from the new unknown I’d become. It wasn’t pretty. But I don’t remember smiling. And so, for the following six weeks I violated every law passed down by Matriarch’s: I WOKE THE BABY. We ate. We played. We tr...I don’t t...
