Preparing for this VBAC has felt like a radical act of hope.
I say “radical” not because I am putting myself or my baby in physical danger or because a vaginal birth after cesarean is unlikely to happen. Neither is true.
I say “radical” because I am daring to believe again in the power of my body and to have hope amidst the mystery of the birth process. I am trying again. Boldly. Wholeheartedly. With deep intention and awareness.
I am bringing my whole self to this process once again. Vulnerably. Passionately. Adventurously. [Read more…]
I still drive by the apartment where I lived with him. I don’t go there just to see it; I love to walk and drive in that historic, hilly neighborhood. When I pass it, I look at the building with curiosity, like a reincarnated person might upon sensing familiarity in a place from a past life.
As a married woman, I have eaten alone with male friends many times. I have exchanged emails containing personal writings about my life and past. I have gone on long walks with a male friend. I have drunk beer alone in an apartment with one. I have stayed up talking to a male friend on our own couch after Lloyd has gone to bed and left us in the living room. We have texted and talked on the phone. Men who are not my husband have been confidantes. Sometimes we’ve hung out as a group with my husband, but I’ve had a distinct friendship with men apart from their friendship with my husband. 
