She placed her daughter into a stranger’s arms – the baby was wrapped in pink and carried in her tiny, premature heart, all her mother’s hope.
They call it “the sandwich generation” as if something as innocuous as a sandwich could even begin to describe the stress of being pulled in every direction.
2017 Voices of Motherhood Writing Contest
Our 5th Annual Voices of Motherhood writing contest is open and this year we are Celebrating Canadian Motherhood!
I carry stones in my pockets so that if an experience or a place strikes me as something she should have seen or felt I lay a pebble.
I remember my mother – busy in her mothering, constant in her love – and feel reassured that I’m getting it more right than wrong.
When my daughter climbs in my lap and covers me in kisses, that’s when I realize that I am the one to be envied
The last time I saw my Mom was about twenty five years ago...
Finding Myself on the Kitchen Floor
Nearly eight years ago, I became a mom. And every notion I had of mothering a newborn went out the window.