We have a holy obligation to bring about paradise on this earth; each generation helps us do that.

Motherhood must be a choice. It cannot be chosen for us.

Blessing something or someone is a way of expressing my gratitude and reverence for them.

Acknowledging that our dream was not happening didn't end the grief, but it did offer closure.

Spirit of Life, remind me to release that which no longer serves me so that I may be present to joy.

Can I do it again? Do I even dare? Do I have the strength? Because the cradle might be empty—again.

One day, I’ll have to care for my mother as she once cared for me. I’m not ready to handle the truth that our relationship must change.

This is a prayer for working parents zooming another meeting with a little face joining in; for new parents, waiting for new life without support; for the single parents, doing all this alone.

Before I birthed my baby, he was a possibility, a kick against my insides. With that first cry, first breath, he became a person in the world.

The crisis was an opportunity to learn to be fully me and love it, inner turmoil and all. I learned that strength comes from authenticity, never from perfection.

I was a foster parent long before I was a mom, and an inside look at families "in the system" reveals pretty quickly that love and parenthood are two different qualities, and the relationship between them is neither straightforward nor guaranteed....

Who are you going to be, today? And tomorrow? Who are we all becoming, together?

When I internalize cultural messages about the definitions of success or failure—or anything, really—I undermine my own sense of self-worth.

And so I bury my cauldron today I fill it full of salt and place it in the warm earth. Cradle it Persephone! Hold and rock and heal this womb. Take my woes and transform them. I was supposed to be this perfect gateway, and hold the balance of life and death. Well I held life, for a brief moment.

I trusted the woman at the pharmacy to be capable of hearing hard truth. Bless her wounded heart with its internalized misogyny. She just wants women to love and support each other. Thank you. Me too.

For all the mothers and mother figures The grandmothers, aunts, and extended family members who mother The soon-to-be mothers, the wish-they-were mothers, the never-wanted-to-be mothers, the “it’s complicated” mothers The birth mothers, foster mothers, adoptive mothers, stepmothers The “used...

I’d gotten in the habit of keeping my head down and hardly noticing where I was or who was around me. On this day, I decided to greet the world differently.

Tell me the story of my birth, and help me understand how you were changed the day I entered the world. Help me know love, deep in my bones.

My heart broke the day my son stood in the bathroom crying. He handed me a pair of scissors and told me to just cut it. I told him how beautiful his hair was and how sad I would be to see him cut it.