Today this is how safe my family is: My 2-year-old baby girl skips around the house in lime-green underpants, her family cheering every time she succeeds in making pee-pee in the Elmo potty. This is how sweet our life is: Later, she and my son and his friend take turns stirring a wooden spoon through pumpkin batter, … Continue reading
Filed under Family …
My wish at 34
34 years old but still living in the same body that first received the tickling warmth of his breath on the lobe of my ear; his lips’ tender press in the crease of my neck. My same back to his belly. My same belly filled, that night nearly 10 years ago, with the warmth of … Continue reading
I may leave, but I’ll never let go
Twelve weeks ago right now I was about an hour away from waking up to the funny feeling of an uncomfortable fist opening and closing in the vast, cramped space between my heart and my hips. The discomfort of that rather obtrusive fist would persist through a long, hot shower, then increase as midnight silently … Continue reading
“The Thing Is”*
The last time I was this stuffed with life my grandmother lost hers. What I have left of her now is a curio cabinet filled with a few photos and mementoes, and her scent secured two years after her death in a plastic bag of her bath towels, which I refuse to wash. Every once … Continue reading
From this deep slumber
I believe in the sanctity of privacy. After a shamefully garrulous riff in my 20s, when I put pen to paper or key to screen whatever rot spewed forth, I finally grew up enough to begin erring away from over sharing. This coincided in a way with becoming a mother. Learning the value of protecting … Continue reading
The sweetest homecoming
My favorite moment of our first big family trip was when the wheels retracted into the guts of the airplane and Henry pointed out the window, squealing through sucks on his pacifier at the city lights glittering gold beneath us as we peeled through a black sky. My favorite moment was the very next one … Continue reading
The meaning of my every day
A day without my son is like a day without air. How did I breathe before he entered the world? Every night as his eyes flutter toward sleep I lift him in my arms and kiss his cheek, gently pressing my lips to his impossibly soft skin just long enough for him to shake free … Continue reading
“The really important kind of freedom”*
Maybe it’s because I was raised Roman Catholic and the yen for social justice stuck like hot tar to my ribs. Maybe it’s because some of my best friends were social workers in child welfare. Maybe it’s simply because I was in a comfortable enough spot that I could, and thus wanted to, challenge myself … Continue reading
“Her Children’s Keeper”
My attempt to pay tribute to the incredible Davida Ellen Williams, the social worker for Hephzibah Children’s Association who trained Sean and me to be foster parents and guided us through some of our most challenging experiences in foster care has been published. I’m particularly proud of this piece. In reporting another story about another … Continue reading
The cumulative joy of motherhood
Sean held my hand, sealing our napping son within our arms. In 20 days, our boy will have lived a year. Becoming his mother has delivered me into an iteration of myself I’ve been thrilled to discover. It’s been the best year of my life. A week ago Sean and I were getting our tiny … Continue reading
Emily Dagostino 