My eyes were bloodshot for the first two months after Josephine was born. I bought $20 eyedrops, the best. My eyes were still red. The little squiggly red veins were permanently etched, it seemed, for now. I started to get more sleep. I really did. I think there's just a tiredness a new mom can't escape.

Several months ago, I signed up for a writing program. Why? I desired support with my writing. I desired to learn from someone. I desired to have a container where I could practice and grow in my writing without having to do it alone. During our latest meeting, I shared with my writing coach, "I've felt stuck for the past few weeks. I come up with all kinds of excuses. And, most of them, they feel so real. It gets confusing. Everything feels heavy." "Why didn't you reach out to me and let me know how you were feeling?" "I don't know. I want to be the A+ student. The one who doesn't disappoint or make mistakes or become difficult or annoying, I guess." "You've got it wrong. The A+ student asks for help."