Tattoos

I wasn’t sure a tattoo would help me move through the hollowness of my postpartum, but I’m glad I spread my wings and took that chance.

I have 14 body piercings, a rib tattoo, a thigh tattoo, an inner wrist tattoo, two “tramp stamps” (and, yes, both were acquired when I was 18), and a full sleeve. In fact, I have more tattoos than I can count, since most of my pieces meld right into the next. But you know what? My piercings don’t make me masochistic, a degenerate, or some sort of delinquent. My tattoos don’t make unemployable. And my body modifications definitely do not make me a “bad mom.”