parenting

On Mothering

On Mothering

One of my earliest memories takes place in my parent’s bedroom on a sunny summer day. My best estimate is that I was 3 or 4 years old. I was standing on something, perhaps their bed, looking out an open window. A bee flew in and stung my arm. I remember screaming. I remember Mama…

How to Suffer Well

How to Suffer Well

I was still in my teens when a doctor told me that there was a “strong chance” that I would never bear a child. Nineteen and still invincible. I made grandiose plans to suffer through this trial with dignity. It worked well for a while. That is, it worked until it didn’t. And then I…

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