The difference between Day 2 postpartum and Day 3 was dramatic for me. One day I was a bit withdrawn and anxious as the nurses assisted me with breastfeeding; the next day I actually could not stop crying. I also couldn’t sleep or eat. I paced in my hospital room with a horrific sense of doom, like something was wrong with the baby or something was wrong with me and certainly like life would be terrible as soon as they released us.
Read moreLessons From My First Colonoscopy
Of the many things that shocked my husband about the idea of me having a colonoscopy, the most immediate was his discomfort with how easily I talked about it. When I saw a friend at the grocery store, I explained my basket of chicken broth (see below) by telling her I was having a colonoscopy. When I took the day off work, I said it was for a colonoscopy. When I had to cancel a meeting, I said it again: “I’m having a colonoscopy that day.” Each time I said the word, Dustin cringed.
Read moreHow My Husband Helped Me Through Depression
Today, when people ask how I got through that dark period, I tell them Dustin, naturally nurturing and a born problem-solver, was smart. I don’t know how he knew exactly what to do. I’m not even sure he knew what he was doing at the time. But when I look back on those months, I realize there were steps Dustin took that led to the dark cloud lifting — because it truly is like a dark cloud that hovers.
Read moreColorblindness: The Childhood Disorder You Might Overlook
My husband and I speculated it was a behavior problem. Does he have ADHD?, we wondered. It seemed that Lindell could never sit still long enough to learn letters, numbers or colors. And the teachers at school commented on his reluctance to follow some instructions — ones like, “Go to the green table, Lindell.”
Read moreChild's Cavity Feels Like Blight On My Parenting Record
Mothers don’t like to talk about cavities because we view them as evidence of what we perceive to be bad parenting. How could we let those precious little baby teeth decay? Even the sound of the word — “decay” — makes us shudder. Decay? DECAY? My child’s mouth has decay?
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