Never Too Late To Turn
I do not need a psychology degree to pinpoint the reason for my shift from bohemian to bookworm. My sophomore year in college, my entire world whipped off into a whole new orbit--disease, death, and substance abuse flinging the people
Desperate times call for…humiliating measures
On Valentine’s Day a routine ultrasound revealed that our daughter, at thirty-nine weeks gestation, had flipped from the standard vertex position into the footling breech. Instead of celebrating our love with flowers and candlelight, my husband and my every thought
Reaching Beyond Ourselves
On October 28th, 1953, in Jonesboro, Arkansas, David Ring was born dead. Thinking the infant had no chance of recovery, the doctor set him on a table in a corner of the hospital room and for eighteen minutes David’s blue
A Prison Cell Called Home
Seventeen days until my daughter’s estimated arrival, yet she has no idea the transformation about to take place. As her body daily expands with the insulating fat that will sustain her, I can feel every ripple of her limbs in