"I'm Still Here" -- Published on the TDF Blog

As I gathered up all the strength I had (and some strength I didn’t know I had) to push my baby out and into the world, all eyes were on me. Every person in the room offered some kind of support and encouragement. After one hundred minutes, I finally gave one last push.

And just like that, my firstborn child shot out into the world.

And just like that, it wasn’t about me anymore.

Three pediatricians and one midwife got busy suctioning out my baby. The other midwife tended to the status of my placenta. My mother had just become a grandmother and my husband had just become a father and they moved from my bedside to the warmer.

It was, in a way, a perfect segue into motherhood — the world no longer revolved around me, it revolved around my baby. But also, I was still there, freaking out on the hospital bed where my body had just erupted and my life had just transformed forever.

Continue reading at the Toronto Family Doulas Blog -->

7 Pregnancy Must-Haves to Make it Through Nine Months in One Piece

I’m still ambivalent about posting about this whole pregnancy thing, but I figure now that the bump’s out of the bag, I might as well write something to help make pregnancy a smidgen easier for someone else going through the miracle of temporarily having your internal organs reorganized. Because, seriously, miracle that it is and immensely grateful as I am, everyone knows that pregnancy is no five course meal at a fancy restaurant — in fact, it’s a lot more like steering clear of all restaurants, kitchens and places where people congregate to eat for the first several dreadful months, because where there is food, there are food smells and where there are food smells, there is nausea. It’s just science. 

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That Time I Got Pregnant and Forgot to Mention It

Is anyone still here? I haven’t been, so I don’t know if anyone else is still hanging around. Have you ever noticed how when you start doing something you dive right in and then gradually do it less and less and then when you stop doing something it happens slowly at first and then all at once? Or is it just me?

It started when I decided to expand Fashionably Frum into a full website towards the end of a calm summer, just as I dove into the busiest, fullest semester I’ve ever had. I’ve never been known for my excellent timing. I’m always surprised when I discover that I’ve triedto extend myself beyond my capabilities, I’m shocked when I realize I’ve failed and I’m always frustrated with myself for doing it…again. 

After I got a 71% on my Jewish History midterm — an anomalous grade for me— my husband staged an intervention. We agreed that it might help if I stopped writing blog posts during that class  and actually, you know, paid attention? This decision was fabulous for my GPA and less than fabulous for Fashionably Frum, because now I had no other time to blog. I was preoccupied with taking seven highly involved classes, making dinners and lunches, working out every day, and having regular, Statistics homework-induced panic attacks, wherein I questioned the sanity of my decision to take seven tough classes in one semester. I no longer question the sanity of this decision — I’m certain it was insane. 

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