I remember using a black felt tip marker, writing the words, “baby due” and circling March 9th on the calendar that lay by the phone on our kitchen counter. There is nothing quite like the first time you see those two pink lines.
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reframing femininity
I remember using a black felt tip marker, writing the words, “baby due” and circling March 9th on the calendar that lay by the phone on our kitchen counter. There is nothing quite like the first time you see those two pink lines.
Read MoreStanding in the florescent glow of Super Target it happened. A throng of ponytailed and legging-clad mothers had just dropped little ones at school and entered the store, eager for a cathartic wander through the aisles, me included. I turned toward Starbucks to get my morning Chai when I happened to glance at the cart…
Read More“Elephants,” I thought. “No, it was a whale.” I read about her a few months ago. Her sweet baby had died and she glided through the ocean with a small body on her back, unable to let go. Her whole pod surrounded her as she carried her lifeless child for 17 days. I like to think that…
Read MoreThe arms of my oversized chocolate brown chair hold my tired body as I bring the face of my discontented daughter towards me. Her quivering lips latch on and her squawks slow to a grave whimper as she suckles the milk from my breast with a sweet hum of contentment. Oxytocin forges through my body…
Read MoreMarch 17, 2016 Dear Come Back Kid,
Read MoreI woke up this morning to my husband’s phone buzzing wildly with incoming texts.
Read MoreMy Grandmother died on Good Friday the year I turned ten.
Read MoreThe upturned soil left a bare spot on the landscape, a tiny mound underneath the pine trees where a small aluminum marker vibrated in the cold winter wind.
Read MoreI am tired of people dying. I am weary of losing those I love.
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