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I wait. I wait for the birth pangs, I wait for the mourning. But both are slow in coming

I kept those words in a special place, as a sign of a prophecy that would hopefully come true

Eight thirty. It was really too late to start putting up a dough

How can one beating heart bear the pain, the hurt, the emotion, together with the nachas, the joy, the love all at once?

Through the open crack in my window, there’s a heartrending cry. “Mommyyyyyyyy!”

  I’m taking the tools I used to heal years ago and using them to become a better version of me AS I look at my sleeping baby’s face, fear slithers into my heart. Before this beautiful girl came into the world, we were a boy family. Exclusively. Sure, they were a handful, my five