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I’ve been working hard on this e-Book “Self-Care for Exhausted Mamas” for the past few months and today is the day I finally get to share it with the world. My intention with this e-book is that you will be empowered as women and mothers to thrive in your mothering, to get rid of exhaustion
Exciting Day! Self-Care for Exhausted Mamas E-book is Out! Read More »
On Christmas day, after an agonizing two week wait following in-vitro fertilization (IVF) treatments in New York, I’ll find out whether or not I’m pregnant. I didn’t plan it this way, my heart palpitating with anxiety during an already tender time, and yet like so many things with infertility, it was outside my control. For
4 Coping Strategies for Infertility During the Holidays Read More »
“And when I reveal my true heart, not everyone is going to approve. What I know now is that I don’t need them to.” ― Alicia Keys, More Myself – We sit cross legged sifting white shells through our fingers, tracing the grooves like braille. My son is on the towel in front of me as I rest
It was 6:00 in the morning. I’d woken up early to slip out before the baby woke. The silhouette of pine trees contrasting against the shimmering grey of the lake comforted me, beckoned me. I had dreams of having my morning coffee on the deck and doing some writing. Alone. I just wanted to be
Motherhood isn’t what I thought it would be. I hate even saying that. Eight weeks in and I’m dreaming of a Mexican beach. Completely alone. No tiny fingernails digging into my flesh. If you’ve seen my Instagram feed then you know I had a baby. A long awaited, long fought for baby. A baby I
I want so badly to do this perfectly. It’s like somewhere inside I believe if I do all the “right things” I can keep the bad things at bay. I hold tightly to this belief like a child gripping a flashlight to chase away the monsters under the bed. Almost 8 months pregnant, I plan
Day three into the new year and I’m already failing. At least those are the thoughts I woke up with. There’s nothing like New Year’s resolutions to send you into a shame spiral, where you start hand fisting Oreos while trying to fit everything on your calendar. I’m not unfamiliar with failure. I spent New
