Browsing the "mental health" Tag

Mind

Smash It ‘Til You Break

May 17th, 2022 | by Naomi Racz

Content note: depression, suicide, pregnancy loss Smashing It Smashing it meant starting a career transition in the midst of first


Families

Bath: HOME IS WHERE WE

June 25th, 2021 | by Jade Sanchez-Ventura and Ro Agents-Juska

Can I ask this? Where in this pandemic have I sought and found pleasure?


Families

FOURTEEN

May 6th, 2021 | by Leslie Lindsay

For our youngest daughter’s fourteenth birthday, my husband and I gave her a hard-cover Mediterranean-blue Samsonite with wheels. Also, a


Music

Angela James: Quiet Night

November 7th, 2019 | by Angela James

I have always wanted to be one of those artists that could create when I was feeling terrible. I wanted


Parenting

Shit

September 24th, 2019 | by Meg Thompson

Use your words and say how you feel.—Daniel Tiger If I could, I would go inside my daughter’s body and



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  • “Having my adult child at home has changed how we relate to each other. I have to keep reminding myself that I am no longer in charge of his life.” “Back when Dylan was 16 and should have been getting his driver’s license, he had brain surgery. Dylan has epilepsy. My husband and I lived in the hospital for two weeks. We were eating salads that my in-laws brought, a break from cafeteria food. #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.

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