Monthly Archives: August 2012

The Story of My Boobs

This is my story of empowerment, as told through my boobs.  Don’t worry- I’m not going to name my boobs, describe their personalities and have them converse with each other.  I will save that for my graphic novel.  It’s just … Continue reading

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What to Expect After You’re Expecting- the Real Deal Holyfield

Body after baby- two kids later, my new tummy.  My second baby, Kellen, toddles over to me, lifts my shirt and says “jiggle, jiggle” until I do the Truffle Shuffle. I was around thirteen years old when I proclaimed to … Continue reading

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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My C-Section- Part 5

I guess it is human nature to be nosey.  Relatives, friends, librarians, grocery store clerks, and mechanics at Jiffy Lube began to quiz me on whether or not I planned to have more children.  The first few months following Liam’s … Continue reading

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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My C-Section- Part 4

Liam was examined by a pediatrician each morning and evening, but in between, there was a constant stream of nurses, developmental specialists, lactation consultants, neurologists, screening technicians, and other professionals whose titles I have forgotten.  Each person would offer some … Continue reading

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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My C-Section- Part 3

Before Liam even made it to the other hospital, he was on the upswing.  He tried to rip the ventilator out of his mouth.  He seemed to have suffered no permanent harm from his traumatic birth, but he was kept … Continue reading

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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My C-Section- Part 2

“He’s not breathing right now, but they’re working on him,” Ben told me in the most reassuring manner.  I, on the other hand, immediately began to panic.  I hadn’t even seen him yet.  My instinct was to leap off the … Continue reading

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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My C-Section- Part 1

I was an annoying pregnant lady.  I emailed every ultrasound picture, provided constant updates without being asked, and could not hold a conversation without it somehow relating to my unborn child.  I photographed myself almost hourly to illustrate how my … Continue reading

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