The idea of inducing labor has terrorized me since the birth of my son. It’s synonymous with what I still consider my biggest failure—not allowing Noah to be born on his terms. Instead, I tried to schedule him into my life. I wish I could return to
Read more →My 4-year-old son Noah has discovered how functional his pants are. He can, for instance, jam Legos into the pockets as he darts out to school in the morning. He can shove even larger things down his pant legs. I noticed Noah’s revelation after a recent trip
Read more →When my first child was born, I was unqualified for the job. If there were a test, I would’ve failed. Knowing my ineptitude, doctors and nurses would’ve snatched Noah and shooed me out of the hospital. A hormonal haze clouded me into thinking I did fail. What
Read more →One of my goals for the new year is to read more e-books. Not just books–stacks of them line my desk, nightstand, bathroom. I even borrow my children’s library books. Bedtime stories are balm to a mother’s day-worn soul. Holding books, seeing and smelling them; this is
Read more →Mothering two young children is sometimes like novocaine. It numbs my mind and makes me talk funny. On the toughest days, crafting a coherent sentence can be challenging. Not to mention holding a conversation about something complicated, like education policy. Once upon a lifetime ago, writing and editing stories about
Read more →Shortly after my daughter’s arrival, I considered having another baby. Syma’s birth was so triumphant, I wanted to relive it. Nevermind 10 months of little or no access to some of my favorite foods and beverages. Or those last pregnant weeks of myriad aches and severely distorted sleeping positions. Even
Read more →My son Noah turned three today. We celebrated in the heart of Chicago, visiting the neighborhood where we lived when he was born. Our jaunt left me wistful. City life holds the secrets of my salad days, when life was relatively unfettered. Our Streeterville high-rise was a stone’s throw from
Read more →Some days I’m swallowed by a sea of diapers, dishes and laundry. When I wake and before slumbering, I pump extra breast milk, lulled by the pump’s monotonous whoosh-puff. Until my husband interrupts my stupor. He moos like a cow. The stale joke makes me bristle. I
Read more →Summer was in full-and-glorious bloom when last I wrote here. So was my belly, nearly 40 weeks full of my darling daughter. Nine days later, I gave birth. I settled into a self-imposed hiatus from writing, and suddenly it’s winter. Or so the calendar says. Most of North
Read more →As I ventured through my first pregnancy, everything was new, including the way people talked to me. Strangers, family and friends sometimes let their opinions fly, no matter how insensitive. I recently shared this with a nurse in my OB-GYN’s office, a woman with extended experience caring
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