If you donât have ravaged, saggy, sad mom boobs than back right on up out of this post right now. I donât want to hear a word about how yours are still perky and stayed the same and just, STFU. My brethren, fellow owners of Saggy Mom Boobs, gather round. You know who you are. More
Topic: mother health
When I had my first child, I had to have a c-section for reasons completely out of my control. It was discovered over the course of my pregnancy that I had a problem ovary. It grew such huge cysts that my doctors determined it needed to come out when I had my baby. I accepted it and decided a healthy baby was all that mattered. More
I am 32 years old. I have had problems in the past resulting in the loss of one ovary. My mother’s test was positive. I know the odds are probably not in my favor that my test will be negative. More
Among the fairly standard labor horror stories of epidurals not working and not quite making it to the hospital is the doctor being all “you’re not ready yet.” Twenty-nine-year-old Irma Lopez now has one of the worst stories of this ilk in that after she was turned away, she gave birth on the lawn. Outside theÂ Rural Health CentreÂ that she had JUST been turned away from.
In 10 weeks or less, Iâm going to be the mother of a son. I always assumed the likelihood of that phrase as a reality of my life was statistically the same as âI just bought an island.â But here we are. Though my pregnancy has been textbook perfect from a physical standpoint, Iâve certainly experienced some of the abnormalities of being a fat pregnant lady. More
When my sister VĂ©ronique and I were pregnant, I developed slight jealousy of Marie. Every time VĂ©ronique and I would talk about our pregnancies (we were four weeks apart), she would chime in with “Well, Marie does this and I think that’s interesting” or “Marie said that when she was pregnant, this happened…”. No matter what question I thought I had answered, Marie had beaten me to it. Marie knew everything. More
The thing about PaFo is, you can go there for legitimate support and end up being told you’re a worthless parent who should be shot in the face. Below is a perfect example. First, sushiflower here comes to vent about some misfortune in her life. More
Katie Vyktoriah, the mother who got the entire blogosphere to turn around and say OH HELL NO after she alleged that her toddler got a pink headband ripped from his head,Â isn’t doing so well. After a visit from the authorities to properly assess the Walmart fiasco, Katie, or ratherÂ Kathleen Carpenter (her real name) has been taken into police custody herself.
Friends and family were surprised that I was still climbing. When my mom asked what we were up to on the weekend I could almost hear her silent judgment when I replied âclimbing.” She, and a few others, had asked me if I was afraid of slamming my belly against the wall. The way that I was climbing made that possibility almost impossible. I exclusively top rope climbed during my pregnancy. More
I had a lot of body image issue growing up. I started developing early and that led to teasing and bullying, which in turn led to self-loathing and eventually an eating disorder. I struggled with what was eventually diagnosed as bulimia from the age of 11 onward and it got to the point where I would binge and purge numerous times a day. I still have the scars on my right hand from making myself throw up, and I’ve battled the physical effects of bulimia as well as the emotional ones. More
I am choosing to smoke again.
It’s strange wording it like that, because I’ve never felt like it was a choice before. When I first started smoking cigarettes in my early 20s, it just kind of happened — a cigarette here and there, usually at a bar, sometimes on the drive home from work. It evolved into a pack a day habit. Then I quit a month before getting pregnant with my daughter and remained an ex-smoker for nearly two years. More
A 32-year-old expecting mother is no longer among us after a serious negligence caused her untimely demise. And all it started with appendicitis that, despite being known by doctors, was corrected much too late. More
Months ago, when we were going through a very rough patch in our relationship, my husband and I made a pact to not have any more children. Although our marriage has drastically improved, nothing major has changed in our situation to make having another child a viable option — we still have barely enough income, physical space and emotional energy to adequately care for the child we have.
So why, a few weeks ago, was I begging my daughter to give me some sign she wants a sibling? I blame it on my PPD. More
The difference between me and the women featured in today’s column is that I would never share details about my body in a public forum that includes my Uncle Chet, my mom’s best friend, and my first boyfriend from elementary school. As magical as women’s bodies are, and as important as I think it is for women to feel comfortable discussing their bodies with friends, family, and doctors, I like to keep my magic a mystery. No need to spread the word on the internet that my magic is occasionally painful, messy, or (god forbid) requires surgery. There’s a shamelessness that some women have regarding their bodies online, and as a feminist I want so badly to stand behind those women and support them. More