It was my teen years when I became acutely aware that I was, (a) overweight and, (b) didn’t fit the textbook definition of prettiness. 

Envy. It’s one of those emotions we chastise ourselves for. We push the feeling down, and tell ourselves it’s a negative way to think. But what if it's not?

I will be eternally grateful for my persistence and the good fortune that came my way. It could have been so much worse.

I never looked at it and I never ever touched it. I felt like my body would bust open and I would bleed out if I did.

If you’re pregnant or breastfeeding, you probably want to put the joints and edibles away for a few years.

The connections with moms in all phases of motherhood, the lack of obligation, the space to sit with myself and just be, was cathartic.

I cannot remember a time when I was not terrified of needles. And to my great dismay, it seems I’ve passed this phobia onto my daughter.