When I think back on our lives with Florence, often in and out of hospital and appointments, I remember being fed. I remember food. Another cup of coffee, an oat bar in a paper bag
When I think back on our lives with Florence, often in and out of hospital and appointments, I remember being fed. I remember food. Another cup of coffee, an oat bar in a paper bag
Grief comes in many shapes and sizes. One of the questions I
One of the most frequent questions I get asked is: what do
Over the holiday season my heart is more tender and bruised as
The doctor hands you a stack of papers. She’s circled and highlighted the
This post has been inspired by the countless people who brought us
A short while ago, I took my two younger daughters to a
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a heart
I’m a mother but have no child to care for. After a
“Mom, is there a nurse here today?” my five year old son
This story comes from my midwife, Dawn Henderson. She was present at
It has been a long time since I’ve let myself be scraped