Posts tagged Motherhood
For People With Dry Eyes
For People With Dry Eyes

On the day that you, fifteen, tell your mother you are sorry for saying words that hurt her, you will stand on the bottom tread but one of the hush-carpeted stairs that run through the middle of the two-story house. She will stand in the doorway to the blue dining room, which leads to the kitchen from which you’ve called her. She will furrow her brow, tilt her head, and say Thank you for saying that, then look down and wring her hands, or maybe a kitchen towel. Next, not meeting your eyes, she will heft a hurt into the air, heavy under the weight of double negative: This doesn’t mean you’re not still grounded.

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Stories That Haunt UsKristina Buschfamily, Mother daughter, MotherhoodComment
Times Square
Times Square

I was next to my father in the back of a police cruiser as the resentment towards my mother grew. I was six months pregnant and when I realized that the door locked from the outside, echoes of my doctor’s voice flooded me. You have to remain calm when you’re pregnant, eat well, play music for your baby to hear in the womb. They internalize your emotions in utero and can be traumatized before they are even born. I tried to breathe as I looked ahead through the grates that divided me from the backs of the policemen’s balding heads and put a hand on my hard misshapen stomach as I rolled my window down the two inches that it allowed.

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MotherhoodKristina Buschalcoholism, Mother daughter, Motherhood, familyComment
The First Year
The First Year

The first time I sat in the waiting room, I faced a wall full of Christmas cards and birth announcements.

The second time I sat in the waiting room, Chris sat next to me, reading a book I bought him, which exclaimed in bold letters on the front, “We’re pregnant!” I held a clipboard and grilled him about his family’s medical history. When the doctor turned the monitor screen to face us, Chris couldn’t help but move closer, wanting to get as good a look at our little gummy bear as possible. But he didn’t let go of my hand, and for the first time he was pulled between me and our child.

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MotherhoodKristina BuschMotherhood, Growing up, pregnancy Comments
The Yarn is the Same
The Yarn is the Same

(Sometimes I forget).

I have a body. I remind myself stretching, the pops releasing my back before climbing into bed. I roll my wrists, tiny muscles spent from crocheting. We’re working on our relationship, my body and me. I’m working to listen better; my body, in turn, agrees to shout less. I’m trying to forgive the things it will not do, the question mark of grief that whispers, “I can’t.”

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MotherhoodKristina Buschmiscarriage, Infertility, Motherhood Comments
The History of My Daughter
The History of My Daughter

“Shoot your vagina up to the ceiling” one male doctor helpfully suggested as your head inched forward and back into my body again. Limp I stared into the bright white hospital light above me where I saw a vision of my own blood and guts floating on the ceiling. I learned later that this particular delivery room was famous for having a tinted convex light that reflected the labor in detail if you knew to look.

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Our Grandmother's StoriesJulia Nusbaumchildbirth, Motherhood, Mother daughter, birthComment
My Pandemic Lesson
My Pandemic Lesson

February 22

We celebrate my son's eighth birthday. To my delight and surprise, it goes off without a hitch. Usually, weeks of anxiety precede his birthdays. Inevitably, great expectations turn to disappointment and anger when things don't go exactly as planned. Not infrequently, parties end with his screaming at his friends, stomping upstairs, slamming his door as I apologize and usher bewildered parents out of the house.

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Life In the Time of COVIDJulia NusbaumMotherhood, Covid-19, Quarantine, Pandemic, self love Comments
Sphinx
Sphinx

Shapeshifting has been a facet of nearly every human culture, explored in art and literature through the ages. These human-animal entities can be glorious and divine, or sinister and grotesque. Typically, they exist symbolically—either the transformation or the resulting state is significant in some way. My own experience with shapeshifting was more clinically than artistically rendered, and I am still hazy on the message my experience was meant to convey.

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Mental HealthGuest Usermental health, bipolar, Motherhood, life choices Comment
The Love You Can't Give
The Love You Can't Give

“If that’s what you’ve decided to do, then go do it. But if you leave, you better know you can’t come back.”

I sat on the edge of the dining room chair as my mother stood over me, gripping the remote control in her hand, eyes blazing.

“I’m only moving to Astoria,” I said. Although my words came out smoothly, glibly even, my stomach turned over in knots.

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MotherhoodJulia NusbaumMotherhood, Adoption, Older Mother, lebanese, mother and daughter Comment
I Became A Mother, But Not the Way I Hoped
I Became A Mother, But Not the Way I Hoped

I’m a mother. And yet, I’m not.

My dream, years in the making, has and yet hasn’t come true. And even if I could ignore this and live as if my life is the way I want it to be, there are daily reminders everywhere I go that women the world over keep getting my dream for themselves while I am still left grasping for it.

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GriefJulia Nusbaumwomen talking about grief, Gri, Motherhood, Infertility, miscarriage, pregnancy loss Comment
Dear Sophie
Dear Sophie

Dear Sophie,

I wish I could tell you that things get better. I’m not really in a place to tell you that, though. I know you’re sitting behind the desk answering calls and filling out paperwork. I know you tell people you’re “just a receptionist” while applying to grad schools and going to prenatal classes. You’ve got big plans for yourself and your little one whose tiny heart sounds like big wings through the speaker at the obstetrician’s office.

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Dear Past MeJulia NusbaumMotherhood, graduate school, Mother daughter, love letterComment