What Do I Get? (A Primer on Post-Adoption Funk)
March 21st, 2017 | by Alex Behr
I lay across the double bed, the sun filtering through dirty blinds. Measuring my son’s cries from the floor below,
Browsing the "Love" Tag
ASK A MUTHA: What Did You Say When Your Children Woke Up On November 9th?
November 12th, 2016 | by Tara Dorabji
“What did you tell your kids when they woke up on November 9th?” Asks Tara Dorabji. MUTHAs from across the
Filling in the Space Between Love and Hate: KEZIA WILLINGHAM on Learning to Subvert the Cycle of Violence
November 1st, 2016 | by Kezia Willingham
As a social worker, I spend a lot of time thinking about the connections between the personal and professional. In
Ieishah Clelland on THE BEAUTY GAP
October 11th, 2016 | by Ieishah Clelland
“Mama, I want one of this!” My daughter, Free, spoke around the bubbles and suds tumbling out of her mouth.
Sarah Maria Medina on THE SEASON OF EARTHQUAKES
July 7th, 2016 | by Sarah Maria Medina
Sound like gunfire pops through night—the cathedral letting off fireworks. When I wake, I pull clumps of mud from my
AT THE END OF EVERY ENDLESS DAY: Elizabeth Isadora Gold on Motherhood and Mental Illness
April 4th, 2016 | by Elizabeth Isadora Gold
At the end of every endless day, my husband, Danny, took my baby daughter, Clara, out of my arms after
LETTER TO A YOUNG MUTHA from Devon Rae Hartwig
April 1st, 2016 | by Devon Rae Hartwig
Dear young MUTHA, This letter is not to patronize, infantilize, or criticize you. This letter is a form of solidarity,
QUIET PLEASE: A (Still) Birth Story by Nina Capelli Oppenheim
February 18th, 2016 | by Nina Capelli Oppenheim
Later I thought of it as the walk of shame. A nurse led Tommy and me from a hospital observation
POLY-MUTHA—An Interview with A, on Parenting While Polyamorous
November 4th, 2015 | by Meg Lemke
This good friend of mine, called A here to be Anonymous, and I, we had babies around the same time, a
Rosa Parks and Angelina Jolie Are Having a Tea Party with Angela Davis by ANNA DOOGAN
October 13th, 2015 | by Anna Doogan
Once, there were three daughters who lived in the woods all alone… I watch my daughter at night after she’s