As I was sitting at my perch today, pecking away at keys and forcing myself not to get on Facebook or check email but to finish my articles and work on some fiction, I was hit with some “truths” about pregnan
Today marks a new beginning. We can argue that everyday we have new beginnings. We wake up, the slate is wiped clean, and we choose our paths. Go to work or rebel. Follow the list or chuck it.
As the holidays come to a close, I am looking ahead to the new year and all the changes it will bring.
Yesterday was one of those days.
It started as I popped Neruda’s metal dish into the microwave.
I am 16 weeks today.
My mother, 8 months pregnant with me…
Who can ever understand what a mother goes through until you step into her shoes? Growing up, I was irrationally close to my mother.
Our "no" turkey day, complete with white bean and potato mash, acorn squash with quinoa, parsley and pistachios, brussels with cranberries and walnuts, peanut sweet potato soup, salad and fresh bread.
While Alex was at an interview yesterday, I ran to the store to gather our Thanksgiving groceries.
Upon first learning that I was pregnant, I immediately wanted to snag as many books as possible. After all, I love reading – and this is a completely foreign subject matter.