The Reality of Kat Cammackβs Baby Journey and Postpartum Trauma
The breakroom TV in our pediatric triage unit was perpetually muted on a twenty-four-hour news channel, mostly serving as a glowing, anxiety-inducing nightlight while we charted at three in the morning. When you work in medicine long enough, you stop...
The truth about finding the best baby stroller for your life
Sitting in the hospital breakroom at thirty-four weeks pregnant, chewing on generic ice chips, I received three completely conflicting mandates on how to transport a human infant. Sarah from the pediatric ward told me to buy the heaviest European luxury...
Why the best baby lotion isn't whatever smells like a powdery dream
I'm holding a violently slippery, screaming seven-month-old who looks like he just lost a street fight with a patch of poison ivy. It's a Tuesday night four years ago, and my oldest sonβwho has served as the trial-by-fire for basically...
The Honest Mom Guide to Bella Baby Photography in the Hospital
I was exactly forty-eight hours postpartum, bleeding heavily into a mesh diaper the size of a surfboard, when the sharp knock came at the door. My mother-in-law had just proudly handed me a stiff, scratchy, sequined tulle gown that looked...
The Messy Reality of Being a Baby's Mom: Surviving Newborns
I was sitting on my bathroom floor at 2:14 AM with a broken breast pump in one hand and a half-eaten sleeve of stale saltines in the other, aggressively weeping because my golden retriever, Buster, looked at me wrong. My...
What A Pediatric Nurse Wants You To Know About Your Baby's Soft Spot
I used to sit at the triage desk at a major pediatric hospital in Chicago and watch the first-time dads walk in. They always carried the car seat completely rigid, holding their breath like they were transporting weapons-grade plutonium. But...
The Truth About Predicting Your Baby's Sex (And Baking Soda)
I was sitting cross-legged on the cold, unforgiving hexagonal tiles of our rental apartmentβs bathroom at 3 AM, wearing my husbandβs faded college sweatpants and holding a red plastic cup that contained a mixture of my own urine and Arm...
Why I Sing Mariah Carey Always Be My Baby At 3 AM For Sleep
It was 3:14 AM on a Tuesday in 2017, and I was sweating through a gray David Bowie t-shirt that had questionable yellow spit-up crusted on the left shoulder, trying desperately to remember what you're actually supposed to buy if...
Dear Past Me: Miss Shachiku and the Little Baby Ghost is a Warning
Dear Sarah from exactly six months ago, You're currently wedged between the bulk-sized paper towels and the dog food bin in the pantry. It's 2:14 AM. You're wearing Dave's gray college sweatpantsβthe ones with that unidentifiable crusty bleach stain on...