Comics

Published on August 25th, 2017 | by Katie Knecht

5

Peace in the Valley

I wrote this short story about a painful memory that has stayed with me for many years. The scene was so clear in my mind that, in addition to the text, I wanted to illustrate my room, the Elvis bust.

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About the Author

I’m a native Kentuckian living in Brooklyn, NY. I earned my MFA in creative writing from Manhattanville College in 2016. I have been published in “Foliate Oak Literary Magazine” and “The Nerd League”, and will be featured in Upper Hand Press’ upcoming anthology, “She Will Find Her Way: Women Travelers At Their Best”. I particularly enjoy hanging out with my cat Margot and eating mint chocolate chip ice cream.


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  • #nicu #birth #breathe “My grandmother, the wildest woman I knew, never met my second child. Zayne Heather Logan passed away shortly before my own miracle entered the world.” “Just the day before I had been twelve years old and pregnant. Now I was recovering from the abortion. Only a year before that, in what felt like my body’s ultimate betrayal, I got my first period. It had come regularly every month since until it didn’t and I was nauseous every day. Even though I’d had sex for the first time just a few weeks before, it didn’t occur to me that I could be pregnant.” “I didn’t know if I would look back on this as the moment I met my son, or if it would become the memory of cradling someone else’s son in my arms—kissing his brand-new forehead, whispering congratulations, and then placing him back in the arms of his mother, never seeing either of them again.” “Their baby books sat waiting to be updated with their latest milestones. I’d become a ghostwriter, setting aside my own journal to document their days. It dawned on me: I’d been crowded out of my own home. Even worse, I’d participated in my own disappearance.” Write for us! Get all the details at muthamagazine.com. In our newest Ask a MUTHA installment, MUTHAs share their thoughts on how abortion access has affected their lives. “In 1984, when I had my abortion, there were approximately 300 clinics in the state and access was easy. When I went to get an abortion, I didn’t have to worry about pro-life demonstrators menacing me as I walked into the clinic, didn’t fear that the place might be vandalized or bombed or that a certified abortion provider could be murdered. After the procedure was finished, I felt nothing but relief.” “The truth is, it was hard to have an abortion. Not because I wouldn’t make the same choice again. But because it’s so fucking hard to live as a deeply empathic person who is nonetheless told that she has no morals and no appreciation for life.”

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