Sandy Jorgenson

My daughter was just reaching her first birthday before the dense fog of postpartum depression started to lift off of me. I didn’t realize it right away, though – and I certainly hadn’t even realized I was suffering from PPD at all.

But what can be said for the day upon which I am no longer enough? I dread that day.

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Death, we know because it’s drilled into us from an early age, is a natural part of life.

When a bereaved mother is left alone, how deep into the recesses of her mind does she wander? Does she surface for air? Does she want to come out at all?

You'll have to excuse me while I sit myself down for one stern-ass pep talk about the importance of trusting my gut, having the courage of my convictions, and marching bodly ahead in my resove to absorb every last minute I get with my growing girl, knowing that never again will these days be upon me.

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

Based on my experience, I can tell you with confidence that there exists a list of perfectly reasonable ways to cope with that endless stream of bullshit that your kids are pumping out on the regular. None of this stuff is going to bring you the blessed satisfaction that comes with screaming out all your favorite swear words while you tear off your clothing in a fit of rage and flush yourself down the toilet, but until such a time arises, this list will at least provide some healthy alternatives to deep-diving through your city’s sewer system when you need relief most.

Childbirth isn’t kidding around. Here are eight special gifts that your blessed body bestows upon you to say thanks for turning it into a baby-making machine.