I thought I lost my faith until I found it in my kids

It happened when I was 18. I was going to an all-girls Catholic college, and one morning — a particularly chilly late-autumn morning in Massachusetts — I looked up at the chapel, and I couldn't feel him. He was gone. It took a bit of adjusting. For 18 years I'd believed in him. To just stop, well, it was jarring.

I'm proud of my stretch marks: body confidence after having two kids

Thanks to my son, I've now got a better understanding of who I am and why I should be proud of it. You won't hear me tell my boys that I'm fat, or unhappy with my body because I've truly learned the value of self image. I still watch what I eat and exercise, but it's not to change my physical self. It's to stay fit and healthy so I can keep up with these boys.

When it comes to having kids our home is in the "no" camp

I've always been firmly in the "no kids" camp. When I was 12, my mom took me to meet her gynecologist who became my gynecologist. When I was 16, this gynecologist and I made a deal that if I still didn't want kids when I turned 25 he would tie my tubes. My long-term first boyfriend and I got pregnant at 17 and we decided to have an abortion. He was going away to school in another state. I could not raise a child alone. It was for the best. Neither of us regret this decision. He's now happily married with two kids. I'm also happily married. Yay!


I was fat-shamed at an Afro-Centric Pregnancy Fair

The other day, I got fat-shamed. When you get fat-shamed often, like every time you turn on a television, it takes a lot to make an impact. My husband, Chris, and I went to our city's second annual Afro-Centric Pregnancy Fair in Portland, Oregon. I had high hopes of being in a supportive environment of people who care about the unique challenges facing black women as they enter pregnancy, childbirth, and childbearing. I fantasized about talking with midwives, doulas, and new mothers about their amazing experiences and horror stories of hospitals, birth centers, and their living rooms. Instead, I got a major dressing down by a black doctor manning an information table for a clinic.


I am Deaf, my partner is hearing, and we're about to have a baby

I do know that I will love my child, and so will both sides of the family, Deaf and hearing, regardless of whether they are born deaf or hearing. I know that we will adapt and I will, along with the child, learn better communication with everyone. I know this child will be a joy and a terror. This child will experience love and loneliness no matter where they go in life, and I will try to teach them to embrace the good and bad, and to accept or fight against certain situations. I try to explain this to my partner, and I try not to worry.