Nuclear Bomb vs Coughing Baby: A Late Night Letter to Myself
Dear Jess from six months ago. You're currently sitting on the cold, cheap linoleum of the master bathroom with the shower running on full-blast hot, peeling the beige wallpaper right off the drywall while you rock a sweaty, angry six-month-old...
Surviving Rick James Give It To Me Baby At A Texas Barn Wedding
I was elbow-deep in a lukewarm plate of wedding brisket when the DJ decided it was time to pivot from the polite dinner music directly into the heavy hitters. You know the exact moment Iβm talking about. The twinkle lights...
Surviving The RS Virus With A Baby: What I Wish I Knew Sooner
I was wearing my husbandβs college track sweatpantsβthe ones with the embarrassing hole right at the kneeβand a t-shirt that literally smelled like sour milk and desperation. It was 3:14 AM on a freezing Tuesday in November. Maya was four...
Surviving Wedding Season Postpartum in a Sachin and Babi Dress
My mother-in-law told me to wear a loose silk sari and just pin the pallu strategically. My best friend told me to squeeze into medical-grade shapewear and a slip dress so I'd feel like my old pre-baby self. My postpartum...
The 3 AM Truth About Crying and Shaking Baby Syndrome
It was 3:14 on a Tuesday morning in November, and the rain was lashing against the single-glazed window of our flat in London, but I couldnβt hear it over the sound of my own teeth grinding. I was standing in...
Why Treating My Infant Like A Little Primate Saved My Sanity
It was 3:17 AM. I was wearing a nursing tank top that smelled so aggressively of sour milk and desperation that Iβm pretty sure our dog was actively avoiding eye contact with me, and I was standing frozen over the...
The 45-Minute Fakeout: Surviving The Twilight Sleep Phase
It was 7:42 PM on a Tuesday. I know this because the microwave clock was glaring at me in neon green, mocking the mug of coffee I had reheated four times since noon and still hadn't taken a single sip...
The Truth About Ugly Baby Gear and Why I Stopped Caring
I was standing in the Target parking lot in mid-December, wearing black maternity leggings that were literally falling down because my postpartum body was in that weird, deflated balloon phase, and I was sobbing aggressively. Like, ugly, loud, snorting sobs....
Why an innocent sip of water is your baby's worst enemy
It was August, the kind of oppressive, sticky London August where the pavement smells vaguely of roasted bins and the air in our second-floor flat had achieved the exact consistency of soup. The twins were four months old. They were...