Find me here.

Daly’s blog, My Baby Daly.
My personal blog.

I will keep my endless ramblings on the personal one, instead of tainting my precious girl with that nonsense. =]

Taken with instagram

Find me here.

Daly’s blog, My Baby Daly.
My personal blog.

I will keep my endless ramblings on the personal one, instead of tainting my precious girl with that nonsense. =]

How are you two doing today :) Hope you are doing alright, do you have a talk with the therapist this week? I was depressed after having L, but it didn't kick in for a few months. If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here for all the rambling in the world. X
do-not-follow14 do-not-follow14 Said:

We’re doing great; how are you and L doing?

I actually did speak with her once this week. We normally talk Tuesdays and Thursdays. It’s helping so far.. hopefully it stays this way. =]

And thanks for the offer. I will probably take you up on it some time. =]

Asker motor-t Asks:
6 freaking pages to catch up on your life with lovely Daly. I feel like a horrible follower :/ Your FB doesn't go as in dept as your tumblah haha. Glad to see Miss Daly is just as cute as ever and that you are doing good too! Man oh man, I love this blog :D
do-not-follow14 do-not-follow14 Said:

We miss you, Jordan! Daly is all the time asking me about you. =P

And I tend to stay away from Facebook. That place gets on my nerves.

Hope you and the new beau are doing alright. Remember, if need be, you may recruit Daly to kick some ass.

Asker plzletmebe Asks:
Thanks for sharing your story. I just wanna tell you you're not weak, you're human. I went through the same thing a while back. I do NOT like taking pills for ANYTHING. Addiction runs deep in my family, and i honestly feared that i'd become too dependent. I specifically asked the doctor for something that i could take ONLY when i felt my lowest, and i want it to be the lowest dosage of that. Then after i felt normal again, i slowly weaned myself off. I discovered what was really bothering me and how to control my emotions about these things.

Also, just so you know, sometimes, with your little ones in the beginning it can be a bit rough. I think i felt that way w/ my 2nd one...kinda almost numb...a weird kinda numb. Like , i knew i needed to take care of her, i even KNEW i loved her but...idk...something was off. As she's gotten older tho she and i are bonding even more, and i can't imagine my life without her. I think it's just a moment where you're adjusting. Try to remember you HAVE gone through a lot. Both physically and emotionally. Your body has stretched, grown and shrunken. And your heart HAS been broken...these things do take time to mend and go back to normal. <3

Keep your chin up. And remember, you are strong. You showed how strong you were when you admitted to yourself you're noto perfect and something was wrong. <3
do-not-follow14 do-not-follow14 Said:

Thank you for this. =]

I’m feeling a lot better after this therapy. Still down some days, but I think that just has a lot to do with my current sleep schedule. Hopefully I’ll get everything straightened out.

Hope you’re doing well. And, again, thank you for this. =]

Find me here.

Daly’s blog, My Baby Daly.
My personal blog.

I will keep my endless ramblings on the personal one, instead of tainting my precious girl with that nonsense. =]

hormonalinducedbanter replied to your post: It’s bad. Bad, bad. And I’ve seen a lot of… So scary, do you pack up things and go into a basement?? We don’t have basements :(

A lot of homes in this area have underground storm shelters, but my parents’ house isn’t one of those. So we get a mattress, get in the bathtub, and, if it gets bad, we put the mattress over us. That way if the house comes crashing down, we’re somewhat protected. What to do during tornadoes was pretty much pounded into my head. And what to do during an earthquake, because we live on a major fault line. Luckily, we’ve only dealt with tornadoes.

kate-xo:

Aaron Gouveia and his wife were already having the worst day of their lives. Then came the abortion protesters.

“You’re killing your unborn baby!”

That’s what they yelled at me and my wife on the worst day of our lives. As we entered the women’s health center on an otherwise perfect summer morning in Brookline, two women we had never met decided to pile onto the nightmare we had been living for three weeks. These “Christians” verbally accosted us—judged us—as we steeled ourselves for the horror of making the unimaginable, but necessary, decision to end our pregnancy at 16 weeks.

After extensive testing at a renowned Boston hospital three weeks earlier, we were told our baby had Sirenomelia. Otherwise known as Mermaid Syndrome, it’s a rare (one in every 100,000 pregnancies) congenital deformity in which the legs are fused together. Worse than that, our baby had no bladder or kidneys. Our doctors told us there was zero chance for survival.

I’m not a religious person and I’ve never believed in heaven or hell. But there is a hell on Earth. Hell is sitting next to the person you love most and listening to her wail hysterically because her heart just broke into a million pieces. Hell is watching her entire body convulse with sobs because she’s being tortured with grief. For as long as I live and no matter how many children we have, I will never forget that sound. And I vowed to do everything in my power to make sure she’d never make it again.

Across a crowded street, two people with “God Is Pro-Life!” signs and pictures of torn-up fetuses managed to drive the blade in even deeper. Again, I was left trying to console the inconsolable, feeling even more helpless this time, because I wasn’t allowed into surgery with her.

Running on pure adrenaline, and without even a hint of a plan, I grabbed my cell phone and crossed the street. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it, I just knew I wanted to make public the cowardice of these protesters. 

I learned a few important things from this encounter. First, these people aren’t used to being confronted. They prey on the weak and they pounce on the wounded. It’s easy to berate people and shame them when they’re too beaten down to fight back. But I chose to do just that, and you can see what happened.

They spout the same tired rhetoric passed out at rallies and subway stations. They don’t have one salient response to any of my questions.

The most telling thing about their cowardice is when the woman on the right gets upset that I’m recording the conversation (which is perfectly legal) and then threatens to call the police. The irony is rich. She wanted to call the police because I was peacefully expressing my opinion on a public sidewalk and exercising my First Amendment rights, which is exactly what she was doing. But I’m not on “God’s side,” am I.

She also claims the women at the clinic are suicide risks. Even if she believed that were true, does she really think yelling at them and shaming them in public is going to encourage these women not to kill themselves?

After I took a walk and calmed down, it was time to pick up my wife and go home. When we pulled out of the clinic, the protesters were gone, and a police cruiser was parked nearby with the lights flashing. My wife, still groggy from the surgery, managed to crack a little smile, and asked, “What did you do?”

I have no idea if it was my interaction with the protesters that got them to leave. I doubt it was, but my wife was convinced that was the case. At first, I didn’t think of it as a big deal, and I actually felt a little foolish for getting so heated.

My wife, suddenly serious, pointed out a women entering the clinic. Within minutes, she said, that woman would be making a serious choice. Whether she kept her baby or not, it didn’t matter—what matters is that she can make the decision that’s right for her. And she can make it without people screaming at her.

My wife and I wanted our second child. We loved her. We even had a name for her, Alexandra.

You never know the circumstances surrounding this kind of decision. Consider this my plea: stop terrorizing women. Stop adding trauma to their trauma. If you’re able, stand up to these bullies in nonviolent ways. Speak out. And if you have a camera, use it.

This man is amazing.

I want to give him a hug.

The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me if ever I fall.

Good morning, Tumblr!! I’s got bed head.

And it’s a girl, I will name her Charlotte. Don’t care what B says. Daly is named after a Marine, so I get dibs on the next one. :)

Woah.

This is new.