Jenna Glatzer, Ghostwriter

There's a lot of stuff no one tells you about pregnancy until it's too late. I have run headlong into the latest one this week: somewhere around month 3 of your baby's life, YOU GO FRICKIN' BALD. I had learned that you lose hair after giving birth, but thought that was no big deal because you actually hold onto a lot of hair during pregnancy, making it super-full. I had great pregnancy hair. Only fair to lose it afterwards, I figured. But no. I'm not just losing the extra hair I gained. I have two actual, factual bald spots now, right above my temples. The rest of my hair is breaking and looks horribly damaged and thin all of a sudden, so I went ahead and did the cliched thing-- I got a "mom cut." I didn't mean to. The stylist actually apologized while cutting it. And it looks... bad. That's the sad thing about hair-- it takes so long to grow it back if you want it long (and I do). I need to cut it even shorter to get past the damaged parts, but it...

This is a post about breastfeeding, so if that sort of thing ooks you out, this is fair warning that it's best to skip it. I was lucky enough to have read a lot about breastfeeding troubles toward the end of my pregnancy, so I was mentally prepared for it to be more difficult than one might expect. I mean, I have breasts, the baby has a mouth... what's so hard? But I had read so many stories from mothers who felt terrible anguish when things didn't go well, and I promised myself I wouldn't do that. I thought, "I'm going to try my best, and if it doesn't work out, it's okay to use formula." I found it funny that there were whole societies dedicated to breastfeeding. I found out that two old friends of mine were very active in La Leche League, and I wondered, "What in the world is there to talk about that these women would actually go to meetings-- regularly-- to bond with other breastfeeding women?" A couple of lessons, okay, but an actual...

So I was back in the hospital a few days ago. This time, it was because one leg swelled up terribly and doctors thought I had a blood clot. So they injected blood thinner into my abdomen (wait, I'll repeat that-- yes, they stuck a needle into my abdomen !! ) and then admitted me because they don't do sonograms at night, and needed someone to do a sonogram on my leg to check for the clot. Well, I was on bedrest (only while I was in the hospital... phew!), so they wheeled me into a room with a woman all loaded up with tubes and IVs. Within about a minute, she told me she had just had surgery for kidney stones the night before. Within about five minutes, I knew all about her 5 days of vomiting, her current bowel movements, her phlegm, her daughter's cancer, the fact that she hates eggs, and which doctors are having affairs with their secretaries. She pulled back the curtain between us, of course. And proceeded to talk ALL NIGHT. Literally. I didn't sleep at all... not tha...