Magazine

It was, like, 3 AM on a Tuesday in 2017 and I was sitting on my living room rug wearing my husband’s stained gray college sweatpants, completely tangled in mint green yarn. I was seven months pregnant with Maya and...

It was 2:14 AM on a Tuesday, and my husband was out in the driveway in his boxer shorts, aggressively sweeping a flashlight under the seats of our minivan. I was inside, ripping apart the couch cushions and interrogating our...

When Maya was exactly three days old, I sat on my sagging living room couch wearing mesh postpartum underwear and a nursing tank that smelled strongly of sour milk, holding a screaming, red-faced potato of a newborn while receiving completely...