Families

The Mom Butt is a little wider, a little flatter and a little longer than the butts on the totally dedicated and amazing women on Pinterest (mad props to them, seriously).

My body is diligently keeping me available for this baby by shutting down the part of my brain that usually wants to jump my husband. I can intellectually recall wanting sex - it just feels like this really foreign concept now.

What I am not saying: "I am now going to take this opportunity to rub in your face what an inadequate parent you are for not sacrificing your entire life to homeschool your children, who you obviously don't love."

"If I am holding an amber beer in my hand, I am not talking about naptimes. If I hear shop from your lips, I am ordering you three more martinis and getting you shitfaced..."

There was no reason why I should have miscarried, or so I thought. I found a thousand reasons to blame myself. Had I gotten enough rest? Was I getting enough nutrition? As my mind searched for answers and concocted a thousand reasons as to why this happened to me, I started to slowly fall into a depression.

I was haggard, exhausted, and feeling hopeless. "When are my kids ever going to be normal?" I felt deep down it would never happen.