I have officially gone grey. The nice people tell me it means I have wisdom to share, and I’ll agree, the hair on my head tells a story. Certainly, I’m grey from breastfeeding day and night for over six years. I’m grey from the tantrums in the grocery store over Goldfish crackers and sparklers, and… Read more
The sand sits on the bottom of the tub amongst the bubbles and bath toys. It’s lonely there, as lonely as the girl washing it out of her long sun bleached blonde hair. Her tears collect in the bubbles. This bath is a hard one. As is the ritual each year the week back to… Read more
I’ve watched a woman’s toes in labour enough to know. Enough to know when she’s reaching her limit, enough to know when the true labouring of labour has begun. There are the toes that curl into tight, whitened balls, or those toes that stretch, splayed further apart than they have ever gone before, looking to… Read more
I saw you last week and it made you real. Not that you haven’t consumed my every thought, and not that I’m not holding you in my heart. I’m not saying I couldn’t feel you were there. I certainly have watched my belly expand to fit you, and my pants stretch to accommodate your growth,… Read more
It’s raining outside and you hold me tight. Upright, even, against the storm. Yours is the snug embrace that meets me where I’m at. On any given day, you have no expectations of me other than to grow. To continue growing, as a person, growing a person. You are my maternity pants. Accepting when my… Read more
