I was already waist-deep in postpartum depression when my son was diagnosed with a speech disorder. His diagnosis sunk me deeper into a pit of depression, regret, guilt, and fear. I was ashamed of myself, as his mother, for knowing the signs were there. I doubted myself. He is my first born, I was naive… Continue reading Write Your Own Story
Nearly every night my children find their way into our king size bed; it seems far too small when I think of my entire world laying beside me. There are moments when I wake up and see these two little bodies cuddled up closely, blissfully unaware of what this life holds. The magnitude of my… Continue reading The Weight of Motherhood
I decided on my career when I was eight years old. Because of Mrs. Brown, I knew I was going to be a teacher. I wanted to be just like her. I worked hard to make this reality, but 10 years later when I declared a major, I had a moment of doubt. Journalism was my… Continue reading When Things Fall Apart
When my husband was a month old, he was hospitalized with croup. They weren't sure if he was going to make it. My mother-in-law documented his entire stay in a yellow, three subject spiral notebook. She wrote down every time he coughed, what it sounded like, and any other information pertaining to his illness. She… Continue reading Writing Motherhood
"Mom, what I do without you?" He asks as he wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, rub his back and say it back to him, "what would I do without you, buddy?" I really don’t know. ... Most nights bedtime… Continue reading On Letting Go
My alarm pulls me out of whatever deep sleep I can muster with toddler feet in my face at 5 am. I contort my body to turn it off, without opening my eyes my finger finds my phone and turns off the alarm. I roll over and try to fall into a deep sleep, irritated… Continue reading Finding Creative Time
“Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by… every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love.” - Saint Therese I read something recently in an email subscription… Continue reading Magic Maker
image via When I met my husband seven years ago I was at my weakest. I was broken hearted and my dreams had recently been shattered. I was fearful of the future, the unknown, what (and who) I would become. He loved me anyway, let me know that it wasn't a career that made me… Continue reading Strands of Gold
You stare at your blank notebooks and think you don’t have anything of substance to say. You stare at a blank screen and think your voice isn’t needed. You want to give up, to quit, to go back to thinking you aren’t the creative type, that you can’t be a writer. But something keeps you from walking away.
I don’t give myself enough credit as a mom. I don’t acknowledge how capable I am or that there is enough grace to cover the fear that hangs heavy on my shoulders.