Finding freedom in infertility
I got married at eighteen (as a lot of women from my culture do). A husband and two kids by twenty-one was the only path that women I know were ever expected to walk. I, however, shunned the cultural expectation for me to get pregnant. Fast forward three years later and you would find me on an operating table having my lady organs snipped and burned and moved about. For me, infertility means freedom. Beneath the hurt, the fear, the hope and the confusion about why THIS thing happened to me… there is freedom to choose.
Crossing bridges when I get there: my life as a legally-blind single mom
Living differently than the norm with a disability was riddled with obstacles even before I became responsible for a wee human being. Back then I’d often make personal sacrifices to accomplish goals I wouldn’t expect of a child. These days it’s a balancing act of happening upon alternative opportunities that are within my abilities, don’t require a car to get there, and because I don’t have childcare, toddler welcoming.
A life-altering diagnosis: I just found out my unborn child has Down Syndrome
I knew I was pregnant the moment I conceived. Call it a woman’s intuition or a case of mother-knows-best, but I knew. As the weeks went on and I could finally take a pregnancy test and receive reliable results, my partner Brian and I stared at the giant plus sign and I said, “I told you so.” As things progressed, I also knew I was having another boy. So when I got additional news about our son, I was shocked that I didn’t already know…
Thoughts on deciding whether or not to tell your kids you’re a sex worker
Back when I worked as a stripper, I was just about as out-and-proud as they come. I wrote a blog about stripping under my real name. I cofounded a magazine by and for sex workers. I found community in the sex worker rights movement. But when I gave birth to my daughter two years ago, I began to wonder if I should shut up about my years in the sex industry.
Releasing feelings of guilt and blame when your child is born with an illness
I’ll never forget the moment I realized I didn’t get to hold my baby right after his birth like I was “supposed” to. It wasn’t when you would think, but instead it happened several hours later when I sat alone in my half of a shared hospital room and listened to the woman next to me coo at her baby. All of a sudden it hit me: I didn’t get to do that, and I didn’t know when I would.
The trouble with teen girls and constant apologizing
In Girl World, where the slightest faux pas can make your friend inexplicably upset, you learn to apologize. Girls have come to think of apologies as preventive medicine, daily vitamins to be consumed habitually.
Why a mother with a disability chose to bring a daughter with Down syndrome into the world
Although I’ve had a disability since I was four years old (that we know of anyway), I was mainstreamed at all times. In my family, “disability” was something reserved for people who used wheelchairs. Saying I tried to “pass” and fit in among the non-deaf, non-disabled is like saying the Pope is Catholic. When I found out my daughter would be born with Down syndrome, my world crumbled.
To parent, or not to parent: my job as an options counsellor
We all come about our decision to parent in different ways. For some, it’s an instantaneous lightbulb moment. For others, it’s a slower process that meanders crazily, randomly, tumultuously as you explore your options, and I’m the person who can help you do so.