And the Village Burned to the Ground
35 Weeks, 35 Days To Go

My Patented Formula: Post a Half-Assed Tantrum Then Frantically Backpedal When I Get Called on the Half-Assed Tantrum

Thank you, everybody, for your comments yesterday, and for indulging my moment of triumphant self-pity. I came very close to not even mentioning the situation at all, both because I thought some stiff-upper-lipitude would make it easier for my mom (I think, in fact, she was relieved to see that I actually DID want them down, since I guess I'd been a little TOO quick to assure her that I was fine! Fine with this! Don't you dare worry about me, because I am FINE!) and because I Know How Posts Like That Sound. Get some perspective! Things could be worse! Quit whining!

Which. Of course. A couple of you pointed that out. In SUCH a nice way too.

My intention is not to win gold medals at the Pain Olympics. My intention is to...I don't know. Throw words at the Internet to see what sticks, and yesterday I was very, very sad and things were hitting me in a bizarre delayed-reaction style -- my poor dad! my poor mom! what if this doesn't get better? who is going to take care of them? I'm not ready to take care of them because I still need someone to take care of me! I want everything to be just like it was last time! I need to find a way to fix this! I don't think I can fix this! I'm tired now!

I spent most of my allotted writing time working on a funny post about my dog peeing in Noah's bed. (Seriously. RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Staring right at me with her beady I-know-what-you're-gestating eyes.) wasn't really funny. It didn't work. It was tinged too heavily with the Stuff I Wasn't Really Writing About. So I deleted it, took a deep breath and just blurted out what was really on my mind for awhile until a nice cleansing cry came and I couldn't see the keyboard anymore.

Thus, my post was rambling, disorganized and unfinished. I knew I would get the "sack UP, ho" comments, because wah wah waaaah. I knew -- know! -- that this is a tiny, minuscule problem in light of what other families have gone through. Perhaps I should apologize for posting something raw and unfinished that dared reveal the 45-minute-long pity party I threw for myself, without spending hours making sure that I fully acknowledged that I was being a bit bratty and was aware of every single possible thing that could be worse.

(I still cringe a little, though, when I remember the shaming rebuke I got during my first pregnancy for bitching about our botched-to-total-hell kitchen remodel in the wake of Katrina, mostly because I could at least TALK about the kitchen remodel without crumpling into a little sobbing ball on the floor.)

(The floor that kept shifting and cracking. No matter how many times it was re-grouted. Because the contractor had cheaped out on the sub-floor and refused to acknowledge that he'd made a mistake and oh my God, I just wanted my canned goods out of my fucking living room.)

(ANYWAY, it stings, actually, the assumption that the simple act of devoting a few hundred words to a silly personal weblog means you truly think those hundred words are clearly the Most Terribly Important & Pressing Matter Of All Time, when really they are only a half step above inane stream-of-consciousness babble and barely scratch the surface of everything else going on in your life.)

My mom, as some of you may remember, was diagnosed with breast cancer during my first pregnancy, and for several months it certainly looked like she wasn't going to be there for Noah's birth either. But of course, I was mostly preoccupied with her being HERE, LIKE ON EARTH. My dad has had more serious health scares than I can even count at this point (cancer, aortic aneurysm, heart attacks, stroke, diabetes, multiple falls and head injuries and he actually doesn't have a voice box anymore, thanks to the cancer). And yet, they are HERE.

They were en route to the hospital with Jason's parents when Noah was born. I called my mom's cellphone from my room and didn't even recognize the trembly little-girl voice I used to ask how soon they would be there, and when they were farther away than I thought, I hung up the phone and cried. (My in-laws had decided that a not-very-quick trip to Whole Foods in PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY was absolutely essential before heading down to DC, know, WE HAVE A LOT OF WHOLE FOODS.) There was absolutely no one else I wanted on earth more than my mom.

But then they were there. I remember my mom came and hugged me first before directing her attention to the baby, which took me by surprise. My dad and I watched part of a Phillies game together. I accidentally recorded over the video we shot of them holding Noah for the first time. I was happy we'd get a do-over.

After Jason went back to work, my mom came and stayed with us for a week. She was still recovering from her mastectomy -- she was worried that she wouldn't really be much of a help, which was ridiculous. We sat on the couch together, we drank coffee and ate junk food and talked about babies and watched movies. It took both of us, in our post-surgical-weakened states, to carry the stroller down the stairs and making it to the post office down the street was a huge victory. She knew exactly what I was going through with breastfeeding and offered no judgment or unsolicited advice or anything other than support. She insisted I take naps. She insisted Jason and I go out for dinner. She told me, over and over again, what a natural I was, what a good mother I was already, and how proud she was. When she left, I was strengthened and confident that I Could Do This.

So yes, I very selfishly want that again.

It's painful to watch your parents age, to get sick, to suffer.

It's painful when it's a slow, natural process, when it just sort of hits you that oh, did he always walk that slow? was her memory always that bad?

It's painful when it's a dramatic roller coaster of health scares, when you can't help but wonder if the next middle-of-the-night phone call will be the last of its kind.

It's more painful than I ever really thought it would be. I have friends who lost parents suddenly, in car accidents usually, but most of them have younger parents who are still healthy and fit. Traveling the world, inflicting the dreaded pop-in and being a giant nagging pain in their ass, year after year.

I was 25 when my dad had a massive aneurysm and almost died. Multiple times, actually, in the span of a few weeks. Jason and I had talked about MAYBE having a baby MAYBE when I was 30. WE SHALL MAYBE SEE. But then I sat next to my dad's hospital bed and had the most terrible, horrible realization -- my maybe hypothetical child might not ever know him. I thought of the few stories I knew about my grandfathers -- both of whom passed away before I was ever born -- and how little I knew about them, those men in old faded photographs who meant nothing to me, and I could barely even breathe. The thought of MY FATHER being a mostly irrelevant figure to MY CHILDREN, just another man in a faded photograph...oh my God. I went home and told Jason we needed to have a baby RIGHT THAT SECOND.

It took him a little while to get on board, and then it took my body even longer to cooperate, but let me tell you: my love and respect for my father -- and my absolute non-readiness to lose him -- are why we have Noah in the first place. And I know I should be well past the point where I let one or two trolls get under my skin and drown out the hundred other kind voices, but the accusation that my post yesterday treated him like an afterthought, that I was truly only thinking about myself and not my parents, well...that's got to be one of the most ignorant things anyone has ever said to me, and frankly, how fucking dare you. (And thanks for reading! Kisses!)

I DO take comfort in the fact that my parents are still here. It's not been an easy road to HERE, let me tell you. I know I can talk to them over the phone, over email, over a webcam, and that while a postpartum trip up to Pennsylvania is not what any of us would prefer, it's doable and by God we'll do it.   

But sometimes I still want to climb on top of something and shout that THIS IS HARD, I DON'T LIKE IT, MAKE IT STOP.


Undomestic Diva

I feel ya. My mom being here for me is a top priority and the only comfort you can (usually) count on after having a baby.

And it's your blog, so if you want to, say - I don't know - talk about you here on YOUR blog, surely people can shut the fuck up, right?


I applaud you for sharing your thoughts and anyone who would critique your thoughts should go jump off a bridge. Last time I checked, this was YOUR blog to write about whatever the damn hell you are feeling and thinking. I am just glad you take us along for the journey.

Who wouldn't have been thinking of themselves first? Those people are liars. If they thought that meant you weren't equally or also concerned about your parents, they again... send them to the nearest bridge.

Your love for your family is inspiring and I feel for you. I am sending you all my best wishes and hugs. You can send some along to your parents too.



Read this:

Feel better.

Your welcome. (hug)

teh Duchess

AMEN, SISTER! This is all I'm sayin'! Stupid Ignorant S.O.B.s need to shut the front door and give a girl a break, along with some glitter and rainbows and maybe a few unicorns.


It is interesting how people read things differently. All that you explained here today seemed quite clear to me yesterday.

Sending you good thoughts and vibes for more time with your family ... all of your family.


Aw man. You are so pregnant. (I say this from the perspective of "I am so pregnant")

I got you completely, and I'm sorry people's reactions put you in a crappy emotional place.

meleah rebeccah

My mother is the most important person in my life. You are allowed to selfishly want her HERE ON EARTH...and who the hell is anyone to tell YOU what to write on YOUR BLOG? Sheesh!


mhmph. perhaps the other whiney-tit babies need to be reminded that this is your blog and you can have whatever tantrums you want to have. just a thought. i could tell you love your mom and dad from yesterdays post and that no they weren't an after-thought. but you said what you were feeling right then. i'm proud of you. your blog, your life. yes, someone always has it worse than you. we all know that. but it's your bad moment that you're having. not someone else's. it's okay. throw all the fits you want.


Damn those people who try to belittle your pain by comparing it to large-scale catastrophes. This is important to you, and it's painful and hard, and you don't have to justify it, lovely. We'll keep reading. Promise.

P.S. You made me want my mom just now, reading this. I hate being a grown up. I wish this were middle school and I could fake a fever and call her from the nurse's office and burst into tears and she'd come get me and take me home.


Amy, you are brave and beautiful and eloquent. I have been reading you since before Noah, and I think it's horrifying that some troll should make you have to explain why you feel the way you do. Pain is not on a sliding scale, and personal pain doesn't reduce one's ability to empathize, be sensitive to others less fortunate, or see a bigger picture. People who can't listen to someone vent for a moment without one upping or saying there are starving children in BF Egypt, how dare you whine about your petty troubles are usually the same people who have no friends because they are too busy complaining about their own HUGE troubles and perpetuate their misery by focusing on how much more terrible their lives are than yours, because you are clearly a whiny brat. NOT.

Reading your words over the years, I have no doubt that you are an incredible human, an amazing wife, mother, daughter and friend with enviable character traits. Plus, you are funny as all get out.

So go ahead and cry. You cannot enlighten everyone. We shouldn't. Who can tell you the extent of what you weep for? That you needed to cry was obvious. Perhaps it was an overwhelming swell of empathy for the blunt stupidity of one or two trolls? Perhaps a wave of communion with the hopelessness of a bad day and the longing for someone to share it with...something...anything...a safe direction? A well lit path? ONe bad day can sweeten the simple joy of one lazy afternoon. The baggage that one good cry can unpack can clear enough space for a moment of clarity.

Everyone needs a moment of complete emotional abandon once in a while, waiting for a justifiable situation so we can pounce on it with the weight of all your need for catharsis. Any moment will do. For the ignorant, those moments don't even need the complications of a proper context. Fuck 'em, I say. We need their ignorance. It is the balance of things.

Purpose in life: joy and love. Giving and receiving love. That's it. Justification is a trick.

Forever Amber

Oh Amy, Amy, I think it's so totally understandable that you feel this way. I mean, I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes now and I'm not even pregnant, with all those hormones as as excuse.

It's hard. It sucks. And you should totally vent as much as you need to it, because hopefully it will help.


Of course you must be scared out of your mind for your dad and nervous as hell about having a second child. And everyone has moments of selfishness, where our mind becomes irrational and only focuses on ourselves. That's only human. I think some people read blogs just looking for an opportunity to zing someone. And that's just sad.

Hang in there. I know you'll find the strength you need for whatever life throws at you. And if you have to cry and whine and be pitiful while you're at it, well that's okay, too.


I've spent the last three years whining my way through a locked, friends-only LiveJournal (THE spot for angst!) and wished this entire time I could have been as concise as you were. So people better have not have been mean about that last post (or this one). HRMPH.

I have two older sisters, both are married, and even though I'm not sure now that I ever want to be married (hello uncertain and frightening early 20s!) it terrifies me that I'll get married and one of my parents won't just BE THERE but they won't have met whoever he ends up being...thank you for writing these posts. It means so much to me.


It is so hard! Which, I think is what I said yesterday, too. Becuase we are so far from our parents we see them about every 6 months and you can really age and change in that amount of time. Im sure they think the same of us. My FIL fell down the stairs last Christmas and we all totally freaked out, he was fine but it hits you so hard when the reality can no longer be ignored.
Here's to Grandparents!!!


What a lovely, strong post - good for you for standing up for yourself. My parents are young, but I know they won't be forever and I'm emotional just thinking about them someday being gone.


I am shocked- shocked!- that someone might write about her personal feelings on her personal blog.

(But seriously, what does mystify me is why people take the time to read and comment on blogs they apparently do not enjoy. It's a big internet out there, kids. Go find something you like better instead of shitting on people you don't know.)


It's all too much...the in-your-face realizations of mortality of your parents and of yourself..the uncertainty of the future...huge life changes..sometimes a good cry to get it all out just helps you deal.

And, my mom did the same thing to me when Ben was born..she seemed to be more doting and concerned about ME than the little newborn baby..because I'm HER baby.

Sending good thoughts and best wishes to your family.


Can I just echo everyone above me? Majah support ovah here!


You should never have had to have written this post, or at least the explanatory parts of it. However, as always, it is sparkling and moving and brilliant.

Momo Fali

All I know, is that with all the crap, and unhappiness, and bullshit in the's nice to hear from someone who loves her parents. It's really that simple.


I've been a reader for awhile, but this is my first comment. You absolutely have every right in the world to feel what you are feeling and to write about it and no one should tell you differently. You wouldn't be human if you didn't have those feelings and your blog wouldn't be so great if you didn't share them. My mom died almost a year ago and I am expecting in March. I am honestly not sure what I'm going to do without her here with me as she was with my daughter and your post was very touching and poignant and I am sending lots of prayers and positive thoughts to you and your parents.


I wanted to comment yesterday, but I couldn't stop thinking about how *I* felt about your post long enough to get it's that for selfish?
So now, a day late, and, thanks to penalties and interest, $1.77 short: I'm so sorry your Mom and Dad won't be there with you when you have this new baby. I didn't know until I was hooked up to the pitocin drip (to forcibly evict Goat #1) how much denial I was in about wanting my mom with me. And you want to hear something really whiny? My first thought, when I held my first baby for the first time, was not "Hello beloved wee one" it was "I. WANT. MY. MOM."
There. That should do it. Send the trolls after me.


Those bitching little brats on the previous comments can take a hike. Hello...there are like, a BRATRILLION other websites out there. So, you know, go troll one of them with morally superior comments.

The rest of us can read Amy's blog and love it for what it is: completely relatable, totally down-to-earth, curl up on the couch with your best girlfriend and a family size bag of tortilla chips, sort of wisdom.


Is not the point of a blog to share your thoughts and feelings and experiences and highs and lows? Everyone has a day where they want to just complain, even though it might not be the most important issue facing the global community. I think it's good for a person to wallow in it every once in awhile, b/c it makes the coming back out of it that much easier to identify.

Also? It's your party and you can cry if you want to. If someone doesn't like it, they can go somewhere else. Or think nasty thoughts in their head. Which I often do. (I love how people feel as though they can share their nasty thoughts in comments, though they would probably never say such a thing in person. I don't see that there's much difference. You may not be face-to-face but it's still hurtful.)

But never here! :) I promise.

WOW. How I have babbled.


It's not easy. My mom is starting to show her age and dad now has diabetes but they are both here and I love them. When we moved out west last year, I probably did have an undiagnosed nervous breakdown. The thought of not being able to see them in a 15-minute drive made me cry, and their stoic "let's give her space, she's an adult" stance hurt worse. I went through therapy, piggybacked panic attacks, and ER visits before I was put on medication and told I HAD to see another counselor, period. All of this because, inside, I am a tiny little girl who is still afraid her parents won't be around to comfort her. Are you being selfish? Hell no! You're being human, and the people who deem themselves the Self-Righteous Police need to step off. If they think they'd be altruistic by claiming it was fine that Mom and Dad Righteous didn't come to the hospital, I'D think they were being callous. Families need each other despite all the stupid societal rules. Screw etiquette and want your parents, is what I say.


You have every right to be sad/upset/pissed etc. that your parents might not be there for this baby's birth.

And clearly you know how lucky you are to have them.

And it does suck watching them get old. It's not FAIR!

And I will admit I'm JEALOUS, because your parents want to be with you and your kids. My parents suck, and my mom almost didn't come to Kiel's birth because she didn't want to miss cooking thanksgiving dinner for the extended family. A f'ing turkey almost beat out the birth of her grandchild. *sigh* I am ranting on your blog. Sorry!


You should never have had to have written this post, or at least the explanatory parts of it. However, as always, it is sparkling and moving and brilliant.

She Likes Purple

How dare them is right. Your feelings are so valid and your fears so real, that anyone who can't understand and respect them is missing a serious sensitivity check. I'm thinking of you and your family.



strange bird

Seriously? What garbage, and you should try to ignore comments like that, because any thinking person realizes you can be sad for your parents and ALSO sad for yourself. This post (and I'm not belittling the need you are probably feeling to justify yourself) is just responding to people completely disconnected with reality, so it's not like they'll understand. But as long as you feel better!


I think it sucks that you had to explain yourself, although I can see why you'd need too.

My husband asked me yesterday if I wanted him to drive me the thirteen hours, to be near my mom when I give birth. It sounds so insane the idea of it (am due like Monday), but for a second (hours) I considered it. She is that important to me. I can see exactly why you'd want your parents with you.

Hugs to you and I hope the trolls remember that this is your blog, not theirs.

ccr in MA

It's awfully hard to see parents getting older, less able. Right now I'm going to see my parents every chance I get, because who knows when will be the last good visit? And I'm glad I have the chance. But it still sucks big-time.


Sadly some people could not look past your post yesterday and realize that you were upset about the whole situation with your dad being sick, your mom not being able to come, etc. It was not selfish it was just that you hoped they would be there. Hang in there and it is ok to feel what you feel and not base it on thinking any less of more severe situations.


OK, you know, it really fucking irritates me when people play the "my suffering is worse than your suffering" game. Sadness is not some kind of CONTEST. Just because really bad shit is happening somewhere else, that doesn't mean that you're not allowed to feel like losing that $20 bill is a huge tragedy. Maybe for you in that moment it is. God, people can bite me.

For the record, my mom died after a horrible battle with infections from a BROKEN ARM and we were already TTC but I never got to tell her and sometimes still? When I think about my mom not being there when I have a baby, I stare at this picture I have of her holding me when I was born and I BAWL. Yeah, it's been 10 months, so what? And you know, I think even if she were still alive, I'd probably still cry sometimes, looking at that picture, because man. Life moves fast, and sometimes we don't see it happening, and then boom, all of a sudden you're 29 and your mom's gone and all you can think about is the time she brought chocolate to the bus stop for you on Valentine's day and man it would be great to feel that protected and loved again.

In summary: Being an adult sucks. It's not fair, and you don't have to like it, and if you want I seriously advocate stomping around and screaming like a toddler. It really does help.


Amalah, it's your blog. YOURS. You write what you want, and to hell with what others think you 'should' be writing about.

jive turkey

It's so tough to watch your parents get older, or to watch them get sick. It's gotta be one of worst parts of growing up.

You have every right to feel afraid and to freak out. None of us is qualified to judge someone else's pain. Plain and motherfucking simple.


If only the person worst off in the whole world was allowed to complain about anything ever there would be, like, one random orphan in [fill in the blank country] with [fill in the blank diseases] who could ever complain. That is just dumb. Anyone who sees (or reads) about someone in pain and decides to point out that it could be worse needs to take a good long look at themselves and figure out why they feel the need to be a complete ass like that.

You are a good person. Everything I know about you says you are a wonderful daughter, wife, and mother. You OBVIOUSLY care very much for all of your family, and anyone who thought you were being selfish is WRONG and BLIND.

I hope you see that there are far, far more positive and supportive comments than troll comments. Everyone on the internet gets trolls from time to time. Not everyone on the internet gets so many positive comments and so much support from so many people. And you deserve every positive, supportive, loving comment you got.

And the trolls can just go to hell.


Sorry, brain farted on the post button.

If I was still in Frederick, I'd get my butt down to you to give you a hug.

I didn't comment yesterday because, holy crap, I can understand the worry that you have for both your parents and how do you juggle being in the hospital with Tivo and ensuring Noah gets taken care of?

We didn't have family nearby, but I had one good friend that I called on to take Gameboy overnight so that my husband and I could go to the hospital at 5:30am. I stressed way too much about the five days I'd be in the hospital, because we didn't have any family close by.
I haven't read the comments, but people, let her ramble and air out the worries!

Not only do you have baby worry, you've got some very real fears about your parents. I can't say it'll get better-it may not. But the optimist in me says that perhaps some good will come out of a bad situation. All you have to do is look at Noah and know this is true, that the possibility that your dad wouldn't see his grandkids helped you to make the decision to have kids.

Hang in there and be strong. And by strong, I mean give into a cry every once in a while.


Beautiful post.


I didn't think you were whining yesterday, just saying how you felt. People can be so stupid sometimes. My mom and my sister live in different countries than me so neither was there when the baby was born. I can't tell you how much I needed them! And they only get to see my daughter grow up in pictures and videos which kills me. So don't let the trolls bug you, what the fuck do they know?

Anonymous New York

We write or cry about the tip of the iceberg because we don't have the time or energy to write or cry about the whole thing. Who doesn't understand that?

And I'm sitting behind my desk today thinking, IT IS HARD. MAKE IT STOP. Please.

I'm so sorry for your troubles. The big and the small. And you're allowed to write and feel craptastic about them both.


I am sorry that people said rude things. I never understand why they feel the need to judge you. Anyway, I will say some prayers for your parents.

Daisy Duke

Good for you! (Sticking up for yourself I mean).

Watching parents get old is one the hardest things any adult will ever go through, and sometimes, well, you get to cry about it.


This is how I feel about my parents, even though they are for now (**knock on wood**) healthy. I know they are getting old and I think about whether my dad, who CRAVES grandchildren, will be there to see me have them (I really hope he is). It all makes me cry and I'm not even married yet, let alone planning on pregnancies (I'm 23). Clearly, I am insane, but I can't help it. My parents just turned 50 last year and I can't help but notice for the first time that they now have more than a few wrinkles and their hair is getting whiter each year. Gah, I'm going to stop typing this long-ass comment because I'm going to make myself blubber and I'm in a library.

I guess I just wanted to say that you're not alone.


I would die without my parents. I don't know what I will do when it's "their time". I get it. I hope it all works out for you.



Frankly, I think everyone else needs to SACK UP. A blog is all about getting it out there, whatever it is. And no matter how big your problems are, someone out there can always one up you... that is ridiculous, because when you're in the midst of an issue, it FEELS like the end of the world, and rightly so. It is not selfish to want your parents, it is normal. Anyone who says otherwise isn't living a very good life. Screw the trolls, and anyone else who can't see the normal thoughts and fears in that post.


My mom missed being here for the delivery of my first child and I cried every day. I was so scared, nervous, unsure, exhausted and probably suffering from a bit of postpartum depression. Regardless of the reason why your mom can't be there (I am so sorry that it is because of your father's health), it is still sad that she will miss this event in your life.
To have people devalue your feelings because of whatever reason (Katrina, starvation in Africa, ect), is not okay. There will always be someone who is suffering more then me, but that does not mean I have to feel guilty for my feelings. ( I hope my point is coming across, I have this discussion much better in person)


A lot of people use that internet anonymity to say things they would never speak to someone's face. Cowards. Sure, it's true that there are worse things that you could be dealing with, but in this moment - in YOUR moment - it is a big deal, and you have every right to be sad. I didn't have any problem with what you wrote yesterday. Even being a total stranger I got the sense that you just needed to get it out, not that you were going to whine and cry about it for the next 4 months like a truly selfish, self-absorbed person WOULD do.

If people want to be *ssholes, nothing is going to stop them. Just remember that there are many more of us here who think you behave just fine, thankyouverymuch! :)

bethany actually

That last paragraph? I feel like that quite often. You are not alone in that.


I liked your post yesterday, and I like your post today. You have the right to write about whatever you like and however you're feeling, and you don't have to compare your personal misery to some Universal Misery Stick to make sure it's big enough before posting. Though some may think you do.


Oh sweetie. Although I don't have children, I am going through the aging parent blues myself. I can never imagine my parents not on this planet with me and I frankly don't know how people do it. I was in a meeting with a collegue who had just lost his last parent and he said, kind of looking far and away, "well...I'm an orphan now." - Oh, but it just killed me. I'm thinking so far, (and I'm sure this will change) but so far, the worst part of getting older is seeing your parents get older - god do hate it too.



I can't stand the idea that just because bad things are happening in the world, we are never allowed to complain or be upset by the things that are happening to US. This is your life, and who knows whether the things you are dealing with are harder for you than for someone else. Complain away, as far as I'm concerned!
And damn, I so think you deserve to have a wonderful fabulous birth. These are the things you will always remember, the moments you will never get to redo. I think you are fabulously wonderfully normal and human and totally within your rights for wanting it go a certain way, for wanting your mom to be there. For wanting your parents to never get old, and Noah's grandparents to always be around. I absolutely get that.

I really hope it all works out and in the end everything happens just as it should have.

Miss Kate

I have been reading your blog for well over three years now, and I have never ever read one of your "hello, crisis over here" posts and thought "sack UP, ho". It is what YOU are going through. Your writing gives you away: you are obviously a empathetic woman who does not live in a bubble. Your sense of humor is self-deprecating. How someone could think that you are being whiny in light of other people's problems... Well, those people probably shouldn't read blogs. Because, DUH. It's YOUR life. Screw 'em.


see now i am pissed off. Amy this is YOUR blog last time I checked so if you want to vent that is what it's here for. If you want to turn everything into a life or death situation once again your call you own this thing here.Please don't stop sharing.


How many times do you need to remind people that they are visiting a PERSONAL website, full of PERSONAL experiences. Don't like it? Don't visit.

An almost-9-months pregnant woman doesn't need schooling from anyone on any subject. At that point in time a paper cut is cry-worthy. So anyone thinking of giving you the business about anything should just stow it and go elsewhere.


Last fall was the first time that I had ever had trolls, well, uh, trolling, at my site. And I found myself trying to explain myself. A couple of half-finished-and-deleted posts later, I told 'em all to fuck off. And that felt good.

This is YOUR space, Amy. It's your space to whine, cry, or wonder why you didn't kill the dog for peeing right there in front of you. You don't have to explain yourself to anyone.

My dad died at age 47, five weeks after he walked me down the aisle. My mom died five years ago, but had dementia for years before that. In that respect, my kids never knew either of their maternal grandparents. So I don't blame you one bit for wanting them around. They won't be around forever.

Best wishes to ALL of you. And a pox on the trolls that thrive on anonymity.


I have an idea - can you hook your laptop with webcame up in the delivery room with you and have your parents at least watch via webcame. If C-section, can they be up near our head? Is that allowed in the ER? Is it a weird idea? Maybe that part might be neat.


oh ignore those trolls. This is YOUR blog, and we come here to read about what's going in YOUR life. If what's going on just happens to coincide with something much larger and more dramatic, but for you, the kitchen remodel is a Big Deal? That's what I want to read about. And I don't know why anyone would doubt your love for your parents in this situation. Stupid trolls.


...or you could webcame in the recovery room with baby?

shannon Dowdell

My first child was conceived and born for almost the same dad had a a stroke followed by many mini-strokes. My husband walks into the hospital room without consulting me and announces, "We're going to start trying to get pregnant!" And I wouldn't have had it any other way and my kids love their Grandpaw.


Amy, I'm nobody's mother (my body's not on board, either) and even I can see - you're not being selfish. You're being human. A living breathing woman. And all of us need our moms and dads for our momentous, ordinary, life-defining moments.

No one had any right to criticize you for that.


OK, so this is oddly timely. My dad has his very first stroke yesterday. And I'm getting married in less than four weeks. And I really want him to walk on his own, dammit, without falling down, so he can walk me down the aisle. And I keep thinking it is inherently selfish of me to want my dad to walk me down the aisle when he just had a stroke and needs his rest and all. But, the thing is, I think my dad would be just as sad as me if he couldn't walk me down the aisle. And your dad will be just as sad as you not to be there for baby no. 2, if not more sad than you. So, all this to say, thanks for posting. And I get it. Sort of.


I didn't comment yesterday (I rarely do on your blog since you get, like 12 billion comments, and I figure you won't miss my measly little one.), but I felt you were totally legit in your complaints.

That being said, I'm kind of glad those "trolls" made you write this.

Because it's really, truly awesome.

Thanks for sharing, Amy.


I really appreciate your post. I lost my mom when I was a teenager and miss her terribly, but do just fine. I'm not sure that I'll be so fine when I have my first baby without her there. I hope you know how lucky you are to have your mother at all. But I also understand how crappy this must feel. In some ways, I am relieved to know that I don't ever have to watch my mother age and go through that.


This is a beautiful post. I am TTC and it has crossed my mind more than once how my parents are aging. If one or both of them wasn't able to be there when I finally do have a baby? I'd certainly have a little (big!) hissy fit/emotional outburst. Hell, I'd have a full blown selfish tantrum! Straight to spaz!

Listen to the hundreds of lovely comments above and try to ignore the ignorant.


I spent the first several weeks of my depression beating myself up about feeling depressed because things could be so much worse and what right did I have to feel depressed when other people have bigger problems? And then my friend Sharon told me that her grandma always said, "It's your own headache that hurts you."

This hurts you, of course it does, and no amount of anybody else's more impressive suffering makes that stop. My dad had a relatively brief cancer scare a few months ago and I freaked the hell out because I had put off marriage and kids and I didn't even know if I wanted a wedding or babies, but what if I did and then my dad wasn't there to walk me down the aisle and hold my babies because I waited too long and damn it I am tearing up right now even though he is perfectly fine.

All of that to say, don't let anyone make you feel bad for feeling what you feel and being honest about it.


To echo the rest: whatever! it's your blog! and it is a big deal! lovely post of course but MAN people are harsh! It can ALWAYS be worse but that doesn't make it okay. Best of luck!


my friend and i just sat, fighting over the computer screen, to read this post. when we were done, we looked at each other with tears in our eyes and i said: "rock on, girl." while she said: "ohmygod, i love her."

so, you know.
there's that.

"my friend" that i keep referring to reads you every day AND follows you on twitter, but she refuses to comment. EVER. but, she's here. just so you know.
and another p.s.
i'm on her computer right now, in case you want to do some IP address stalking one day when you're bored.


My parents moved ten hours away just weeks after my first baby was born. I had no idea how much I'd miss them and the fact that they couldn't be there when my second was born was hard for me. Just because every little thing in life isn't TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY DEVASTATING doesn't mean it isn't important or disappointing. I totally feel ya. Nothing wrong with a little foot stamp now and then. :)


(I wrote a comment just now and of course right as I hit post my internet disconnect and flipped me the bird.)

I am so sorry Amalah. I don't know if you got a chance to read the mail I sent you a few days ago about my dad dying and how I read your blog through the nights because it was the only thing that could make my brain stop thinking about how my dad wasn't going to be here anymore, that he wouldn't ever meet my fiance, never meet my future children... that they would only know him through stories I tell. Unless, what if, I forgot the stories? (Oh man, big hot tears of guilt)

Watching a parent become ill and MORTAL is the hardest thing a child of any age can go through, I think (He died about 6 months ago, I was 3 months shy of turning 21. He was 3 months shy of turning 55). These are the people who you have known since you were born. Before you were yourself you were a part of them. It hurts and it sucks and its NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR no matter how many or few hard times a family has gone through up to that point. Anyone who judges you for being upset, for panicking, for acting a little childishly, has not been through it, or has been through it and blocked out the memories to survive the pain of it. You are allowed to act childishly because you are their child. All the asshats who say they have it worse, they've seen worse, it's not that bad really stop acting stupid... Just because there are others who could be experiencing worse pain, doesn't make your situation less painful. It's okay to feel the pain. As long as you at some point get back up and don't drown in it.

I think that can be labeled assvice so I shall stop myself there.

I am sorry Amalah, I really am. Your parents seem like troupers though, chi made out of diamond!



There is nothing I hate more than seeing people come onto a blog and piss all over someone who's obviously in pain. What for, you know?

I'm glad to see you're not taking it.


You know, I think you are great for realizing/admitting how much you (we all!) still need/want your parents. I totally didn't think I needed my mom when I had my son, and when they started the pitocin for my emergency induction, I started crying for her, for the whole six hours it took her to drive like a bat out of hell to get to me! So, much kudos for realizing that a great mother can never be replaced, and even more kudos for loving your parents enough not to guilt-trip them into risking their health to be down here. ('cause I'd be tempted to, which means you are more grown-up than me...!)
Lots of love and hugs and such!
PS- my durn niece has to have a birthday party out of state when you are having your book-signing/shower so I am very bummed/pissed at my sister-in-law that I can't make it. :) You'll just have to have another baby and shower/write another book in the near future or something so I have a reason to show up and thank you in person for all the laughs/tears/relief that I've gotten from your posts over the last year.

PPS - I am done now, thanks for reading!


Aww, sweetie. Here's one more virtual hug for you. There is no one in the universe like your parents, and sometimes, no one else will do. I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes from the ragged, hurt edges of your posts yesterday and today. Don't beat yourself up (or let anyone else beat you up) over posting such raw, uncut emotion, or that your problems/worries are not as bad as someone else's. They are YOURS, and your feelings, and they are painful, and awful, and you are completely entitled to feel them and vent them and have them. You don't have to have perspective all the time and remember everyone else's suffering - it's OK to just feel your own. I'm get it - my dad died suddenly three years ago, just two weeks before my wedding. My wedding was amazing and beautiful and wonderful but there is one tiny raw, hurting spot of memory about it that will always crush me - my dad wasn't there. Now, I am 30 weeks pregnant, and of all the encompassing pregnancy worries and angst and trauma, that is the one thing that I can't get over, that brings me to my knees - my daddy won't be there to meet his granddaughter. I feel like a little girl too- I just want my dad. *Hugs*


Theoretically when you leave your parents to be married, you are supposed to cleave to your husband and go on, and blah blah blah. It just ain't true.

My mother was actually mentally ill. But she was the only person in the entire world who loved me unconditionally and who supported me totally. Had I murdered someone, she would have come to help me clean up the blood.

I had a bad time with my third baby. A series of stupid errors - doctor thought I had gone home, hospital never told him I was still there, doctor finally got the news and got in a wreck on the way to the hospital - and as a result, after having the first two in 4- and 2- hours of labor, having the third turned into a 25 hour thing and I was not in good shape. And I cried for my mother. She was the only person I wanted right then, someone to curse my husband for me, curse the doctor for me, put a cool cloth on my head, and pat my back and tell me I was doing a wonderful job.

My parents were divorced, and I was never close to my dad, he died in 1982. My mother died three years ago. I am 66 years old and I can not believe she isn't here for me. I remind myself often that I'm an orphan now. It's really, really hard.

Of course you want your mama.


The trolls can suck it.

This is a great post, Amy. My parents are no longer the spring chickens they used to be and I know I will have to deal with losing them in the not-too-distant-future.

I will never be ready for that.


what a bunch of assholes. i can't believe the people who told you to "grow up" and "stop whining." jesus. anyone has the right to vent on their own personal blog...if someone doesn't like it they should just quit reading, instead of staying around to make bitchy comments.


I wasn't lucky enough to have any parents around when my son was born. I had me, my husband of barely a year and a screaming pile of baby that I had no idea what to do with.

You have every right to feel however it is you want to feel about your mom and dad.

Don't let inter-bitches get to you; they aren't the one having the baby.


Amy, repeat after me... "this is MY blog, and these are my feelings and if I want to share my fears then damn it I will."

Rinse, repeat.

A couple of cry-buffy troll wannabe's are just that.... troll's.

I think we all have those fears about our parents. To this day I still want to curl up on my dad's lap and crawl into bed with my mom and giggle...and I'm 36.

I'd feel that was if I was 96.

Great, now I'm crying.... stupid hormones....


You are allowed to have feelings! I'm sorry about those trolls. My best friend's baby had to spend a night in the NICU under a bilirubin light instead of going home with her when she was discharged. She was in tears and apologizing to me at the same time that she felt bad for being selfish and so sad for herself that her baby didn't come home b/c of a mild case of jaundice (that was quickly corrected) when there were soo many other really sick babies there. I told her that she was still allowed to cry and be upset for herself and her baby because it wasn't the perfect going home and she deserved it (anyone does). So, yes, your parents are here and many others don't have their parents...but you know what, if they did have their parents here and were in your situation then they'd be upset like you are (like I would be). You're not being're being human, a woman and a mom. It's selfish if you don't realize it could be worse or you think your situation is as bad as if your parents weren't on earth (but that's not how you feel)'s VERY acceptable that you still have sad/upset/whythecrapdoesthishavetohappenthisisnotfair feelings.


Now you've made me cry two days in a row.

I thought yesterday's post was heartfelt and full of love for your parents, not all selfish and about you. Not at all.

Life is complicated and messy and we are imperfect. But we do our best and that's all we can do.

Since I've been reading, your best has seemed pretty darn good and it's always clear that you count your blessings and love your family.

Sending good thoughts in you direction.


You don't have to backpeddle. You wrote what you feel and no matter what anybody else has gone though, or how lucky you "should be" it's your struggle and it's real to you and you wrote what you feel and that is OKAY.

I totally understand how you feel about having your mom there. My mom and I have had our fair share of "moments" but when I was giving birth there was NOBODY ELSE ON EARTH I WANTED THERE and I imagine it will be that way next time around too.

Sending positive vibes you and your entire family.


Boo, trolls! I lost my dad last year to cancer. My sister was 6 months pregnant when he died, so he never got to meet his grandchildren. My first reaction when he got sick was MUST! GET! PREGNANT! so I totally understand. I also hope I am vocal and obsessive enough about sharing stories of my dad that my future children feel like they KNOW him and what a wonderful, special, hero of a man he was.


Screw the trolls. Everyone else knew what you meant.

Gorgeous post. My husband lost his father just after our son was born, and now I'm pregnant with #2. He hurts and misses him and it sucks and sometimes I see in him that there's just no avoiding that unbearable need to rock in a corner with tears streaming down your face because WHAT ABOUT MEEEEEEEEE?????

The trolls must be quite fortunate to never have been there, done that, with someone they love. Otherwise, they'd know.

Kelly G.

To the meanies... as I always tell my children "

Kelly G.

To the meanies: as I always tell my children "BE KIND!" That is all.

To Amy: Big hug {}

Mary O

I don't think you are wimpy or whiny at all. If there is one time when a girl wants her mom around, it is after she's had a baby. Sometimes no one else will do besides your own mom.


I completely understand where you are coming from and am appalled that anyone would say anything negative to you about how you feel. I lost my Dad this past October and I am currently pregnant with baby #3 and my biggest fear is that this little one will also only know their grandpa via photograph and stories the rest of the family has to share. The only hope that I have to hold on to is that this baby is going to be named after my dad and will also share the same birthday with him, so hopefully that will give this little one some sense of connection to grandpa. You have written exactly what I have been to afraid to say… Thank you.

Katie Kat

WOOT WOOT! YEAH!!! Go Amy, Go!

That post felt REALLY good to me, and I hope it did to you too. You don't have to explain yourself to anyone (let alone f'ing trolls). What you did was raw, touching, immediate and completely without harsh intent. It was actually quite brave of you. Besides, this is YOUR blog and you can post whatever you want.

People have NO idea what you've been through or what is going on behind the scenes. If you needed to vent, then we're here to try and add a layer of hugs and support for you.


Not that it would in any way replace your parents presence, have you thought about having a postpartum doula? A postpartum doula would help you out around the house and with Noah while you recover and get to know your new little one. Just a thought.

You're not alone in your feelings. I'm sorry that things will not be as you hoped.


If this: "But sometimes I still want to climb on top of something and shout that THIS IS HARD, I DON'T LIKE IT, MAKE IT STOP." isn't the whole purpose of blogging than I've been doing it wrong. Way wrong.

My Mom has breast cancer, and it is a very hard transition for some people to make- going from being taken care of by your parents to taking care of your parents. For me it was kind of a relief, because Mom and I do much better with the latter than we ever did the former.

Hey, screw the trolls. We know what's up.


I know you already know this, but I wish everyone else knew it too: That we all think "unpopular" or "inappropriate" things but not all of us have the courage to acknowledge it and then write about it in the public forum. Any attempts to curb what basically amounts to freedom of self-expression would be the death of this medium and a disservice to everyone. Or, in other words, FUCK THE HATERS and keep on doing your thing, Amy.


Maybe people are trying to cheer you up by giving you perspective, but I hate that anyone thinks someone's worse circumstances make our difficult circumstances unworthy of complaining. (did that make sense?) If that were the case, all of America could just shut the f*ck up with the whining because? Tsunamis?Landslides? Famines? Wars?

It sucks that you can't have your parents with you, and you are perfectly entitled to share your pain with us. I feel everything you're saying, though as I write my parents are trekking China for 6 weeks. But they are aging and I am constantly preoccupied with their being SO far away, in what feels like SUCH a "foreign" country.

But back to you. It's fine to pout. We're here for you. And I'm glad you feel like you can share it all with us - the good, the bad and the ugly.


But even if it isn't a Big Deal compared to some things, it is still a big deal and I think you are entitled to some complaining about a justifiably complaint-worthy situation. I mean, techically, there is only one person in the entire world who has the worst story ever. Are they the only person allowed to complain about anything?

Plus, complaining makes me feel better.


Oh, Amy. I'm so sorry that your dad is having problems... That stress alone would be enough, but during a pregnancy? Very emotional.

Of COURSE you can make it without your mother! But that doesn't mean you WANT to. I don't blame you. I'm sure she'll be available on the phone as often as you need her, though. She and your father sound like lovely people.

Hope he feels better soon. Hope the delivery goes without a hitch and your parents get to meet the new Storch soon!


THIS SHIT IS HARD, I DON'T LIKE IT EITHER but it ain't gonna stop. I wish I could share as much as you do on the interwebzzithingimajig but I can't but suffice to say "I get this and it ain't selfish sounding one lick".


Last I checked this was your blog, a blog us readers are privilaged to be reading. So when you need to vent, or cry, or wine you should be able to do it here and be supported!!! It makes me angry that ppl assume things and judge you and decide what you meant by this and that, when you are just spilling out your heart, for the public to read!! Which by the way I am thankful for, cause you are so freakin awesome. So instead of saying things like ohh how can you say this of think like that, we should all be thanking you for being so honest and truthful. It's because of your honesty here on this blog that inspired me to be honest and real on mine, saying my real name, letting ppl into my life, you were the inspiration for that. I can't imagine how hard and sad this time is for you, and how dare anyone say otherwise, no one knows the pain you are going through, because it is your pain. I wish your parents could be there with you, cause I know I would be a mess of uselessness without my mom, I will always be a little girl in need of her. hugs amy! I really am thinking of you during this rough time :)

Amanda B

Your feelings are valid. And it's your blog. You've invited people in to your "home" - you should be able to write what you want without judgmental looky loos barging in and shaking their finger about how "selfish" you are being. Truth be known, your parents are desperate to be there too. You're still their baby.


Yep, me, crying again today. You relationship with your parents sounds so similar to mine and the thought of my kids not knowing them makes me well -want to go throw up. And speaking of that, so do the people who were mean to you about yesterday's post.
Yes, of course, there are worse things but that doesn't always lessen the pain. Nor should it.
Oh, and I came on board well after Noah was born but I shudder to think of canned goods in the kitchen. Oh my.


I was thiiiis close to commenting yesterday to tell you that I knew that feeling all too well - my mom died the same month that I found out I was pregnant...with twins. I was, in a word, bereft. It was awful, awful and I was a horribe mess through the whole pregnancy and after.. I JUST WANTED MY MOTHER. But then, I thought, Gah! Who wants to hear about that? and didn't leave a comment - I hate to sound like a one-upper on things like this. I hate comments that are all, "Well, it could be worse".

I wish you the very best - you have such a lovely family and this baby will be adored by his grandparents just as Noah is.. I'm positive of that!


Honestly, there have been times when I've read your blog and been all, "Like, Amy's being kinda bratty."

Now is not one of those times. It's called grief and funny, it takes awhile for it to hit you in all of it's complexity-ness. Too bad if people were tuning in for a well-rounded, finely tuned expression of each facet of the loss and fear you were experiencing. It's not a novel, people, it's her life.


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