I’m pregnant for the third time in my life. The first time I had a flawless pregnancy–my son was born perfectly healthy, and I had very few complaints. The second time I experienced a missed miscarriage–my child died without my knowing it, sometime around the seven-eight-week mark.
Read more →In any given week, at least one day seems to spin out of my control. Especially lately, as my pregnancy hormones ebb and flow, claiming bits of my memory and pieces of my physical dexterity. By day I chase an impish two-year-old who speedily scampers away at
Read more →For the first 35 years of my life, writing was my greatest love. My identity was neatly, proudly wrapped around being a member of the Fourth Estate. Journalism took me from Chicago to Washington, D.C., and back, and I loved nothing more than stacking my plate high
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