Maybe it’s the mid-cycle hormones, or all the pictures of friends’ new babies, but I find myself craving that newborn smell and the way a teeny baby fits into the crook of my arm. I haven’t forgotten how hard those first few months were, and I adore this age – all the amazing milestones, the personality, the new experiences that happen between 6 and 12 months – but as No2’s first birthday quickly approaches, I find myself increasingly nostalgic for her first few days and weeks.
Hi, I’m Susan.
Teacher. Writer. Advocate.
Elementary teacher turned mental health advocate. Dabbles in parenthood. New england yuppy + southern girl hybrid. PPD survivor. Anxiety battler. Kicked antenatal depression to the curb.
Mom to two beautiful girls, 6 and 2. Send wine.
I write to help others. Sometimes it helps me, too.
And These People Too…
- This should be a thing you do. I am 😂😂😂😂😂 twitter.com/djazzo/status/… 3 days ago
- I can't find a Bobby pin. Maybe @JennaHatfield has it. 3 days ago
- RT @postpartumprog: Love this post from @pronouncedKAYLA on #PPD as a Black woman. ow.ly/Pe6w303viHe #mentalhealth 3 days ago
- RT @StampStigma: We'll be there! #BH365 twitter.com/mhfirstaidusa/… 3 days ago
- Listen, learn, change the world. #MyTeamIn5Words #warriormom @postpartumprog 3 days ago
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