First off, an apology. This is a blog post about, well, blogging. So if you’re 100% not interested in this then here are some posts…Read more
When my husband brought home an ancient record player he found at a thrift store last year, I rolled my eyes. We are not skinny-jean-wearing, man-bun-loving hipsters. Actually, my husband has very little hair at all but we do not speak of this. I thought this vinyl business was a passing interest that he’d have for a week or two and then we’d all move on and I’d have to find somewhere to put this piece of junk.
Thereâs the birth of my son as I wrote about it on my blog. Then thereâs the rest of the story â the significant complications involved with my labor and delivery, an experience that was so distressing it took me a couple years to be more open about it. And then there are deeper wells of feelings and hurts, which I havenât even begun to mine yet. This is to say that the birth of my son was traumatic —