The Good Mother Myth: redefining motherhood to fit reality

Her kids have always slept through the night, and even if they don't, she still manages to look like she has had eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. There is always a well-balanced, home-cooked meal on her dinner table. She either happily stays at home or holds down a fulfilling job while still finding time to join the PTA, run the school's book sale, and makes it to every single soccer game. She is usually white, middle to upper class, heterosexual, and neither too young nor too old. But above all… she's a myth. And it's this myth that divides women and pits mothers against each other while fueling the flames of the manufactured "mommy wars."

How I became a breast milk donor

This is the story of how I, quite accidentally, became a milk donor after the birth of my second child. It has truly been one of the most gratifying experiences of my life. Because I have come to believe milk donation is so important, not only for the babies who receive the milk, but also for the mothers who give it, I decided to write this essay in part to help spread the word so that other women will consider donation too.

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The Mighty Quinn: the birth story of our son with Down syndrome

We had come to terms with Quinn's condition and were anxious to meet the little guy, but not quite so soon, especially since we had spent most of the pregnancy facing numerous health scares. Our many doctors told us that our son's health would depend on his arrival: the later he was born, the better. Since my first son arrived two weeks early, I repeatedly told this guy to stay put and crossed my fingers that he would listen. But in a rebellious fashion that mirrors my own, Quinn decided to do things on his own time.

An unmedicated high-risk premature hospital birth

Despite being early and carrying my first child, my body felt built for labor. I dilated quickly and contractions became rhythmic almost immediately. I found myself totally silent and occasionally wept over the situation. I used my wedding ring as a focal point and comfort object to touch, as my heart sank with each contraction knowing my husband was going to miss the birth of his first child.