I really, really wanted to enjoy motherhood. So let’s just say it was less-then-ideal when my husband found me wailing in the kitchen one morning at 4 am. He ran in, his eyes burning with the intensity of someone just woken from dead sleep to an emergency. “Is Lucy okay?” he asked, meaning our six-month-old …
On Being Gentle: For #WholeMama
When my oldest daughter was a toddler, her favorite thing to do after lights-out was to stroke my arm. I have a variety of moles; she’d rub them like little worry beads. In my head, I felt honored by her touches. They were (mostly) gentle, and meant that my very body was a comfort object. …