reframing femininity
By March, the worst of the winter would be over. The snow would thaw, the rivers begin to run and the world would wake itself again. -Neil Gaiman I feel a piercing pain in my chest as I talk with my friend Libby about the inevitability of weaning my daughter Charlotte. My body begins to…
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I have always viewed each passing season in my life as chapters in my ever changing, ever growing “Book of Me.” Each chapter tells stories of joy, pain, loss, curiosity and progress. Some of these chapters are filled with angst and ennui, some chapters are full of new found passions, others speak of various heartbreak…
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My hands pressed against the shower tiles while sobs erupted violently from my core. This is not what this was supposed to look like. Giving birth to a baby and increasing our family to four should feel marvelous and wonderful. I shouldn’t be hiding in the shower, cringing from everyone’s touch. The irony of this…
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“Is everything okay?” my voice quivered as I watched the ultrasound tech repeatedly zoom-in and zoom-out, measuring and re-measuring my baby’s developing body. It was taking longer than normal. “The doctor will examine your results and come in to speak with you,” the tech replied. Over an hour later, I sat on a metal…
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The city that never sleeps catches a brief catnap before dawn. Faithful street sweepers work tirelessly amongst the murmurs of taxi-cabs. The quietness is peculiar as we clip toward 30 Rock with anticipation. In a few hours, the streets will fill with women dressed in suits and sneakers, toting heels in leather bags, amongst diligent…
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I was born in the suburbs of Chicago, raised on the dynasty of the Chicago Bulls and the “curses” of the Chicago Cubs. I lived in the same town until I left for college at the age of 18. “Home” will always be that Chicagoland suburb, but it’s no longer the only place where I…
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Dear Younger Self, I’m sitting in my living room with a deeply affectionate boy in my arms and another sweet boy growing safe inside my body. I can’t help but be curious about who you were so long ago. Were you anything like this stubborn, imaginative two-year old who is now leaping off the couch…
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Dusk was falling on another Saturday night in the Chicago suburbs. My siblings and I, all under the age of ten, had been entertaining ourselves during a long, lazy day at home. It was just before dinner and we’d pulled a gigantic floor pillow in front of the couch, jumping like acrobats from the couch…
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As a new mom, I’m often asked what surprises me most about motherhood. My answer varies depending on how grounded or rested I’m feeling in the moment. I’m surprised I’m here and wearing pants! is a less grounded example, but the response almost always has something to do with time.
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Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palm of my hands. –Isa. 49:15-16 My iPhone alarm triggers a surge of cortisol through my weary body. The blue light flashes 2:30AM. I feel empty and anxious as…
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