Imagine me striding into the sunset, tripping over my shoelaces, looking back and sheepishly waving, and then shuffling off into the distance.

Well. This is it. The last post here at Expectant Waiting.

Why am I doing this? There's this little voice in my head (not the crazy one, just the regular one everybody has) that's telling me it's time to move on. You see, last week was Imbolc, and even though I'm not wiccan, I always mark their holidays. So last week I cleared all the dead vines out of the garden. I cleaned the house a bit. And I thought about all the crap that I'm carrying around in my personal life. All this stuff that's in the way, inhibiting new growth. It's time to do some pruning. It's time to let go of habits that were once useful, but are now burdensome.

And so this blog. It saved me when I felt my identity crumbling under the weight of new motherhood. And my internet friendships got me through some awful, lonely times. But. I now read past entries and think, "Who is this person?" I'm not her anymore, and I don't want to be. Continuing to write here feels like I'm trying to bury the past, when I really just want to outgrow it.

It's time to close this chapter of my life; the chapter I have titled, "Casey has babies and loses her mind." It is now time to start the chapter, "Casey gives up coffee (her skin looks awesome and no more migraines!), gets involved with her real life community, discovers she does kinda like artsy stuff, and learns to make eye contact when she talks to strangers." It's a new day, internet. A new day!

Happy trails, my friends, and thanks for reading.

Read these blogs.

Andrea was nice enough to award me this. I am happy to play along, especially since I really, truly am abandoning this blog in the near future. So, read these instead.

First, we have the mental health blogs I've recently discovered:

Writhe Safely I just found this blog a couple weeks ago, and I am completely in love. She has many, many posts that are thought-provoking and challenging, but this one is simply a work of art.

Candid Psychiatrist Taking a critical look at psychiatry from the inside.

The Memory Artist Another disgruntled mental patient. She provides a valuable service in helping people understand the bipolars.


And now some blogs that fuel my uppity, ungrateful questioning of contemporary obstetrics. (Remind me some day to tell you about the shocking similarities between the way psych patients are treated and the way pregnant women are treated. And the eerily similar way that advocates for psych rights and advocates for improved maternity services are defamed by apologists for the status quo.)

Navel Gazing Midwife Her writing is so straight-forward and passionate. I just really love this blog.

Doulicia I've been reading Doulicia for a long time now. She hooks her readers up with lots of research on birth. And she knits!


And how about some blogs to educate your ignorant ass?

Hillbilly Savants A blog about Appalachia written by...wait for it...people from Appalachia!

Stayin' Alive Public health combined with a little bit of cranky.


And, of course, the funny:

The Ballpoint Banana He's my brother. He's funny. And he really is that weird in real life.

I'm Sure It's Fine This is really one of the funniest blogs ever.


That's nine. You add the tenth. What's another blog I should be reading?

No catchy title.

Think of this list as 32 reasons to have a home birth.

Fair Warning

I have a couple of posts left in me for this site, and then I might move on over to the new place. Or I might give the blogging a rest for a while and focus on other things. Drop me an email if you want the address should I move. expectantwaiting at yahoo dot com.

Inadequate Trousers

I bought a pair of pants on-line. They were brown cords for $8.00. What a deal, I thought. The pants arrived and were ridiculously snug. So I sent them back in exchange for the next size up. The replacement pants arrived earlier this week.

Although they said they were the next size up, the were friggin humongous.

And there was a crusty, white stain on the inside of the crotch.

I'm just going to ask for a refund this time.

...Now you don't!

Sorry. Had to take down that last post. We can't have anyone figuring out my secret identity.

[If I know you, and you want me to email it to you, let me know. It really wasn't all that exciting, though.]

I need a drink.

Today was crazy. Cray. Zee. This is the time when I wish I blogged under a pseudonym, because damn. Today was crazy.

Actually, YOU need to seek help for my PPD.

Post-partum depression is a condition near and dear to my heart. I had it following both pregnancies, and it sucketh mightily. In retrospect, I'm pretty sure I had post-partum psychosis after Ivy's birth that later improved to PPD which lasted until, oh, about a month or so ago. (She'll be four in March.) Yes. PPD, I know it well.

Last fall, congress authorized $3 million for research in and services for PPD legislation for the expansion of funds earmarked for PPD research and services was passed by the House. I really, really hope this money is used well. That is, I hope real solutions are proposed, and that we don't just end up with the ol' reliable, "Seek help. Talk to your doctor." Because you know what? That's just not working.

We're always told that it's those damn female hormones, that our bodies are defective somehow. But maybe that's not the case. PPD is not universal. Although it's fairly common in the US, it is almost unheard of in some areas of Asia and Africa. Men also develop depression following the birth of a child, and some parents who adopt develop post-adoption depression. Moreover, most cases of PPD that meet the definition of clinical depression begin around 4-6 months post partum. That's after the hormone levels have steadied.

So, why is the solution to PPD always, "Talk to your doctor." Screw that. How about a year of real, paid maternity leave? And, even more radical, paternity leave, as well? How about free post-partum doula services for all women? Drop-off child care? More part-time jobs with full-time benefits? Or even better, it would be nice to have universal health care so that we can cut our hours without worrying about losing our insurance. Could we please get labor and delivery services that leave women feeling empowered instead of ambivalent, or worse, traumatized? How about partial student loan forgiveness for stay at home parents? High quality, subsidized child care? Expansion of the WIC program? Baby-friendly public spaces?

No, no, no. We can't have women getting all uppity and demanding. Just seek help. Talk to your doctor. And don't forget to take your pills:












Image used without permission from The Icarus Project.

No kidding. Every time.

I tear up every time I hear this song. It reminds me of those weeks after Ivy was born when I was so horribly depressed that I could not see any beauty in the world, save for her.