When you’re depressed and pregnant, the weight of that guilt is even heavier.
Telling a depressed person to “shake it off” is not an effective way to treat the illness.
I wasn’t sure a tattoo would help me move through the hollowness, but I’m glad I spread my wings and took that chance.
“Oh honey, you’re doing great. I know, I’ve been there. And we’re going to get you through this.”
I didn’t give my placenta another thought until it splashed loudly in my toilet.
I had to be a grown-up, whether I was ready or not.
Cheers to having agency over your own damn body.