Posts in Motherhood
The Anniversary

A lot can happen in ten years. You lose a baby, or choose to lose a baby, though at the time, it doesn’t feel like a choice, more like a pre-ordained outcome. You spend time blaming everything outside of you—your OB, your job, your husband. Blame comes easily; it’s a ready distraction from the blame you hold close to you, like a secret: you were not brave enough, not in love with the baby enough, not selfless enough. When your water broke months too early, you panicked, you decided against hope.

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Losing a Dominican Mother

I went to college in 2014. I am the eldest of four kids, thus, the first to leave home. Growing up in a Latino home meant the vague expectation of pursuing higher education. In my house, our parents said if you were not working, then you were in school. My parents were not raising a bunch of bums. Mami y Papi instilled in us the importance of working for our own. If we wanted something, we had to work for it. I learned this quickly and, at the age of fourteen, had my first, legal job.

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A Mom’s Story

When I became a mom I became many things -protector, guide, teacher, and emotional support, to name a few. I am also slowly becoming someone I don't recognize or like. As a mother I have transformed in ways more powerful than I ever imagined. Including transforming me into someone I didn't think I would become. 

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Seeking the Formula to Shame-Free Mothering

It’s just a shame that some women choose to formula feed.

Everyone knows breast milk is best for babies! They are smarter and healthier-

Less likely to be obese!

I can always tell the difference between babies who are breastfed and formula fed-

They stop suddenly as I walk through the door, unsure whether or not I, the as-far-as-I-know-it only mom who formula feeds her baby, had overheard their conversation.

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Angels Outside Our Window

I remember lying under the church pew as a child.

“How much longer?” I would loudly whisper to my mother, my 7-year-old self never knowing how to wait.

“Not long,” she would answer, her faithful, copper brown eyes never losing focus. Her attention was glued to the altar. She was an Episcopalian to the core. And, meanwhile, I couldn’t even pronounce the word.

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