Sandy Jorgenson

You’d have a hell of a time if you ever dared to crawl through the recesses of a first-time mother’s brain.

Griping about adulting is a fun thing that we like to do, I know.

This article is the second in a two-part series.

I know motherhood is hard. Especially new motherhood — those early days are a fog of tears, confusion, and helplessness. But I also know that yearning for something you can’t have, particularly with regard to children, is a feeling far worse. I’ve lived through the pain of childbirth, of a 3rd-degree tear, two related surgeries and a year of recovery, of postpartum depression, of miscarriage and of infertility and my god; I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant a chance to… Well, to do it all over again.

The tumult that’s been rippling through our country has me begging the question: what do we do when we feel the defeat of a woman and the rise of a monster bearing down on us?

I didn’t start out as a particularly easygoing person.

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Everybody who’s a parent can attest to the fact that the lives they once knew are far behind them.

Why are people so mean?