Ever since having a child, mortality is on my mind a lot more than usual. I have always known life is precious, not guaranteed, too short, and all the other appropriate and relevant clichés. But now having a daughter, it’s like a daily, (literally) screaming reminder of how much there is to miss out on…
I have always been a people pleaser, it’s simply ingrained in who I am. This doesn’t mean I don’t speak my mind, engage in conflict when necessary, and follow my own intuition and desires– it just means that my knee-jerk, automatic response is to make others happy and do/say what I know will please them.…
I want to be alone I want to be with people, even the loud and stumbling and belligerent ones Don’t touch me, I’m claustrophobic Hug me tightly and hold my face in your hands, even if they’re clammy I need a routine I want to live each day different from the last I want to…
I used to do this thing where at the end of the year, I’d post some of the foods, products, and random things I loved and enjoyed over the past year. I haven’t done it in years, and yes it is only August, but I decided to make another one of these posts because quarantine…
I wrote a poem. It’s geared towards elementary school-aged children…the kids who are going back to school virtually, or doing a hybrid model. That is…until the schools get shut down again and everybody is virtual. It’s hard on parents. It’s hard on teachers. It’s hard on the kids. It’s just hard. Feel free to print…
People start asking you very soon after having a child if you plan to have a second one. A harmless and understandable question, sure. But it always sends a shock through me. I know the socially appropriate way to respond, so I smile and give a lighthearted, “Maybe!” or “We’ll see!” Sometimes if I have the time…
The following poem was written by a friend of mine who attended a protest in Louisville, Kentucky yesterday. I have read it several times over, and each time I find something new in it to love, each time something hits a little differently. Thanks, Jas, for your beautiful words. Your bravery. Your insight. Your compassion,…
I sat in the lobby waiting to hear my name. Mismatched clothes, slippers for shoes, bloated and empty belly resting on my striped thighs. I couldn’t look at the glowing women around me, I wondered what they might see in my face? Terror Exhaustion Apathy Sadness Counterfeit joy Envy Anger Confusion Physical pain Emotional pain…
In the way that you cry when you’re tired and lonely, I am reminded that I can do the same. In the way that you allow yourself to be held, comforted, and kissed by someone who loves you, I am reminded that I can do the same. In the way that you continue to eat…
I walked into the NICU, excited to see you and be near you I walked into the NICU, the room they told me was yours, and looked down at a beautiful baby, but something was wrong. I didn’t know if you were mine. They told me this was your room They said you were sleeping…
I’ve been thinking about our hearts How you listened to mine beating for months How I listened to yours beating for months How you felt the steady rhythm of mine creating a soft vibration against your forming body How I watched yours on a little black screen, smiling at each rhythmic rise and fall I’ve…
The weird thing about trauma exposure is that it can come back in unexpected, powerful ways. Even years after the trauma has occurred, and you have been mostly symptom-free, something can trigger a trauma response and you are nearly powerless to its might. Trauma affects the way our brains develop, how we behave, and how…
PHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH That is the sound of me blowing the dust off the ol’ blog. It has been over two years since I have written here, dayum! When typing in my blog address this afternoon, I wondered if I would have to log in again or if by some miracle it would still be auto logged-in.…
I love getting snail mail so I was pleasantly surprised to get home from work today and see a handwritten letter addressed to me. After a quick glimpse at the return address with no recognition, I wondered what baby shower, bridal shower, or engagement party invitation lay awaiting inside. Turns out it was a little more important…
