Trigger warning: This article contains accounts of domestic violence.The timeline is blurred, but the results are the same. In 2013, I took in a stray. This stray came in the form of a house-hopping, shaggy haired guitarist who I worked with serving tables. I was in nursing school and admired his "didn't-give-a-damn" attitude and lack … Continue reading bruised.
When my son was born at 28 weeks gestation, my husband and I were completely unprepared. Being a first time mother and having a perfectly healthy pregnancy up until the day my water broke (in the middle of the psychiatric hospital where I worked), we had not planned for a situation in which my son would … Continue reading 5 Things to Expect as the Parent of a Preemie
Your bed lies empty by the door. I don't have the heart to move it. I try...oh, I try. But if I do, it means you're really gone. You can't be really gone. The silent air suffocates me. Air that once carried the pitter patter of warm puppy paws across the floor boards, the clanging … Continue reading Empty.
As I clean the macaroni and cheese off the floor, my shorts, and my toddler for the 12th time in as many days, all I can think about is a date night. I dream of dressing up in my fanciest outfit, heading to the nicest restaurant in town with no screaming children in tow and … Continue reading Date Night
Hug me, mommy, Please just hold me tight each time I cry. I know you’re tired and I’m sorry. Maybe one more lullaby? Guide me, daddy. Show me how to know the right from wrong. No one’s taught me yet, I haven’t been here very long. Lead me, mommy. Please, I just want … Continue reading Hug Me, Mommy
Am I doing enough? This question races through my mind daily, from sun up to sun down. Am I doing enough for my preemie son? Am I doing enough for my stepdaughter? Am I doing enough for my husband? Am I doing enough for myself? After my husband and I got married, we decided that … Continue reading Mom Guilt
When Aaron was born via emergency c-section at 28 weeks, each hour, each moment, each second that he survived and thrived in the NICU was a miracle. Every day, we held his tiny fingers and gazed at his tiny toes behind the heavy plastic walls of the isolette. We counted the days until he could … Continue reading So This is One and a Half
Miscarriage. Say it too loudly and it burns the tongue, it singes the throat. It reverberates in the back of your ears as you wonder who might be offended, hurt, scared, or even angry if you call it by its name. If you say it out loud. She lost the baby. The baby didn’t make … Continue reading The M Word