real, raw motherhood
It’s that time again of wanting to write and drawing a blank. Not knowing what I want to say and wondering if there’s value in saying anything at all anyway. I process my emotions through writing and inspiration comes more easily when I am sad or stressed. Thankfully, right now, I am neither. Happy times…
Warning! This essay might be upsetting, especially if you know me in real life. I wrote it because writing is how I process my emotions. I am sharing this here and hope it may help others who have suffered similarly. My mother liked to point to the big scar running down from her belly button…
It started 18 months ago. January 13th 2015, 2 days before my husband’s birthday. He was scheduled for his yearly colonoscopy. Ulcerative Colitis is a condition that he’d suffered from since he was a teenager but had remained nameless most of his life. With the right medications, everything was under control and had been for…
“I, Sarah, take you, Burton, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” The priest standing before us had such a thick Irish accent I had to fully concentrate as…