A Blank Slate

When he was a young child, my son’s body felt like an extension of mine. His nuzzling, nursing lips on my breast, his feel, his smell, his desires—all of it was an extension of me. Even now, as a teenager, his desires and motives are astonishingly transparent to me when I consider how hard it…

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Unexpected Surrender

I grabbed my purse and keys and called out, “I’m going to run and grab the pizza, be back in fifteen minutes.” My son dropped his game controller and followed me towards the door, “Hey, I want to ride along Mom.” The next fifteen minutes included a conversation which altered the trajectory of our life…

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Bubble Wrap

At the ripe old age of 35, I am, to the medical community, of “advanced maternal age.” At my first OB appointment, my doctor warned me that I may hear the term “geriatric pregnancy” every once in a while. I think I sprouted a few gray hairs just in that one appointment.

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The Arms of Safety

The 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…

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Novel Bravery

It’s those first few moments in the morning that appear to matter the most to me. When my world is just waking up, all feels hazy and quiet. There are mornings when I’m graced to awake before my tribe, and I’m given the gift of coffee in solace. These minutes are rare, beautiful, and embodied…

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Safe Harbors

I am passionate about mothers. Or more specifically, those who grew up without one. Maybe they grew up with a mom who was there but addicted to a substance. Or perhaps they had a mom who was in the home but in her mind was longing to be somewhere else and did not engage with…

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Glory and The Dirt Underneath My Fingernail 

I hear the pattering of feet and my seven-year-old son bursts through the bedroom door. I squirm, anticipating the end of my slumber.  Every morning, shortly after I hit my alarm at 5 a.m., he opens the door, declaring, “Mom, are you still here?”  I roll over. The door is shut. Luis is on his…

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I Am the Woman Who…

Swallowing the last sip of a stiff drink, I dragged my body off the couch. Walking toward my bedroom, I stopped in the hallway to notice the open door on the left. Looking into the darkness of the room rendered me breathless for a moment, and I slowly turned to avoid the sight. While brushing…

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What I Didn’t Expect When I Was Expecting

“It is hard for you, little one,” said Aslan. “But things never happen the same way twice.” —Aslan, the Lion, to Lucy, the child, Prince Caspian, C. S. Lewis   Things never happen the same way twice, dear one. I am a thirty-one year-old woman (Jessie), I have been married to my husband (Mikey) for almost…

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