When I was pregnant (a life event which started about two years ago) everyone was so happy for me. They congratulated me and asked me a million questions and told me how cute my bump was. They also told me everything was going to change, like that was a good thing, and I was adamant: Nope, it

Mother's Day wasn't a holiday. It was a painful reminder. Facebook, commercials, and even the grocery store spent mid-April to early May rubbing it in my face that I didn't have a mother to celebrate. My mom committed suicide when I was 11 years old, leaving me with only a few Mother's ...Continue

Doulas might sound like something that only pretentious white ladies in Marin need — earthy granola ladies who show up in their Priuses speaking in slow, calm voices and talking about the ~magic~ of pregnancy. I definitely had this vision of doula services before I started interacting with the

2026. Two-zero-two-six. When I signed paperwork in 1995, commencing what would become a series of student loans to take me from undergraduate through graduate school, I had no concept of what that number would mean to me. 2026 was more of a lock combination than the year my students loans would be

A few days ago I was writing in a coffee shop. The coffee was fresh, there were lots of other people tapping on their laptops (one of my favorite sounds to work by), and the words were a-flowin'. I was so happy. At one point I noticed two women come in, one with a baby, and sit at a nearby