Sandy Jorgenson

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.

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

...[O]ur very responsibility is to equip them with everything they need before we shove them out of the nest and watch their wings spread far and wide... But what, then, is left for us?

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

Why are people so mean?

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

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

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