I’ve always, always assumed I’ll have more than one child. When I was a little girl (and an IDIOT), I wanted to have four children. This was undoubtedly a Little Women-based decision. It seemed totally doable, since I was going to get married at 23, live in a castle with my prince and my youthful ovaries and pet unicorns to babysit the children. Continue reading
Written by my dear college friend Emily, who is also navigating new motherhood, and also sometimes screwing it up. Just like the rest of us.
Almost seven months ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl (she weighed two pounds and looked like the offspring of a tiny old man and an exotic bird, but still beautiful). For reasons you’re about to read, she will be our only child. Until I had her I had no idea how many people had opinions about the number of children I should incubate in my very own uterus. Continue reading