The Beautiful, Chaotic Reality of Having an IVF Baby in London
It was 10:47 PM on a rainy Tuesday in London, and I was carefully shuffling a half-eaten block of Cathedral City cheddar and some slightly sad-looking kale to make room for roughly four thousand quid's worth of hormonal injectables. That's...
The Messy Reality of a Tongue Tie Baby: A Dad's Survival Guide
The first time someone suggested our daughter's mouth was structurally defective, we were sitting in a sweltering hospital side-room smelling faintly of industrial bleach and desperation. We received exactly three pieces of conflicting advice within a single twenty-four-hour period, which...
System Failure at 3 AM: HM Baby Clothes and Newborn Survival
The poop had somehow achieved terminal velocity. It was 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, and my two-week-old daughter was lying on her changing pad, screaming with the piercing intensity of a malfunctioning smoke detector. The payload had defied all known...
The Real Cost of Saying Hello Baby: Surviving the First Weeks
I was standing in my kitchen at 3:17 AM wearing a stained nursing bra and my husband's old high school track shorts, violently bouncing my screaming oldest child while crying into a cold cup of chamomile tea. The dog was...
Troubleshooting Green Baby Poop When You're Running on Empty
It was 2:14 AM on a Tuesday when my iPhone flashlight illuminated a diaper that looked like it had been sponsored by a 1990s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure factory. Neon, radioactive, undeniably green. I froze with a baby...
The real story on the frida baby bath tub and the daily wash myth
I was standing in my cramped Chicago bathroom at eight in the evening with a slippery, shrieking newborn who looked exactly like a wet baby bat. My mother-in-law was on FaceTime, loudly explaining that he needed this nightly ritual to...
Why The Filter Baby Concept Actually Matters For Your Sanity
I was standing in our tiny primary bathroom, the exhaust fan rattling like a helicopter overhead, while my oldest son Wyatt screamed bloody murder. He wasn't even six months old yet. I had just pulled him out of the bathtub,...
The Truth About The Perfectly Put-Together Infant
It was 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, and I was wearing a maternity bra that hadn't been genuinely white since the Obama administration. My second kid, Maya, was exactly three weeks old and smack in the middle of a cluster-feeding...
What the Dijon Baby Album Got Right About New Parent Anxiety
It was 2:13 AM, and my husband was sitting on the edge of the bathtub just staring at the tile grout while our oldestβwho's basically a walking cautionary tale for why you shouldn't blindly trust anything you read in a...