This is the story about a plucky emergency doctor giving birth to two healthy babies—and all the whacked-out stuff that happens in between.
When I read other 'mumoirs', I laugh at the universal truisms: yep, tired. Ooh, a poopy diaper. But look, baby's smile! So worth it. Whoops, I'm pregnant again!
Is that my tale?
I wish.
Yes, I change diapers. Cloth diapers! And my husband changes more than his fair share.
But mostly, I'm an ecstatic new Momzilla carting my infant around as death and disease stalk and smite my family. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to save lives and conceive another baby.
Warning #1: this book is less about official doctor-ing and more about my unbalanced life (but funny! And plucky! Did I mention plucky?).
Warning #2: I wrote it as prose poems because I think poems are an excellent way to distill life into sharp, memorable lines. Also, thanks to babies and medicine, I hardly have my hands to myself, except when I'm sleeping. Poems are short. And I still need to sleep.
Come on in.
