I had it all planned out. First comes love, then marriage, then, two years later, comes a baby in a baby carriage.
“I’m afraid you have cysts on your ovaries,” said the fertility doctor. “We’re going to give you hormones to see if we can help you get pregnant.”
Six months later, the shame of being unable to get pregnant weighed heavier and heavier on me as I attended yet another baby shower for one of my friends.
By Melissa Tagg
I received an email several months ago I wish I could forget. But I can’t forget it, so I guess writing about it must be the next best thing. LOL!
But seriously…this email took me off guard. It was from a reader of one of my books, and she had—gasp!—found a typo in the book. And she. was. angry. Angry enough to write me a ranting, mean, and weirdly personal email and tell me she wasn’t sure if she was even going to finish reading the novel. This one little typo thoroughly ruined the story for her.read more
By Catherine Bird
It was the summer of 1988, and I was attending my first sleep-away camp. I grew up with brothers, so sharing a cabin with seven other females was a concept foreign to me. Until then, I’d had little interest in makeup, hairspray and talk of boys.
It’s not that I wasn’t into girly things per se, but I was raised with a bunch of boys—brothers and cousins alike. I appreciated the ability to bait your on hook, climb the toughest trees, and I came home missing a jelly shoe on more than one occasion after playing in the bayou.read more
Fifteen years ago when I fell into severe depression, I trudged to the doctor’s office to get the necessary help. Depression is common, and many of you have been in the same place, but for those of you who’ve managed to escape the clutches of depression, let me explain how it’s handled when you seek treatment. You see, the medical people have this little test they give you to determine whether or not you have depression and just how bad it is. You’d think it would be a blood test, but it’s nothing that scientific. It’s just a short quiz. (Unless they’ve changed something in the last 15 years which is quite possible), but I was given a brief questionnaire like the one that follows.read more
I am a writer, but I always wanted to be a lawyer. I wanted to be the lead character in my own true-life crime-fighting story. Every good story has unexpected plot twists that lead the characters down a new and better path. Mine came in the form of a marriage, children, and years of traveling the globe and part of a decade living as an expatriate in Indonesia.
Somehow the years went by, and the dream of law school was forgotten. I wrote a bit—okay a lot—and published over eighty books with traditional publishers such as Simon & Schuster and Random House.
In what seemed like about five minutes’ time, my four children grew up, went off to college, and found careers. Then came the big D, and I don’t mean Dallas…
Just about everyone has experienced shame over a mistake or a wound that causes us grief or shapes our sense of self. Sometimes, however, the shame is persistent and comes with an unwelcome companion that’s just as unhealthy and difficult to deal with: anxiety.
First, I should state that I don’t think shame and anxiety are entirely bad—shame, or guilt, can offer us motivation to correct our behavior when we’ve erred—like when we’re in a bad mood and we’ve spoken harshly to a spouse—and anxiety gives us “fight or flight” hormones to get us out of bad situations—like meeting up with a bear in the woods. Those types of shame and anxiety are productive.read more
I knew it was coming.
He’d called me up, told me we were going out on a specific night, at a specific time and to a specific place. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was up to something.
I had to work that night; he panicked until I got my schedule changed.
I suggested going at an earlier time; he pushed until I relented.
I told him I wanted to go someplace different; he reasoned with me until I accepted there would be no altering his plans, whatsoever.
Come hell or high water, we would be at that place, at that time, on that night.read more
By Andi Tubbs
Thirty years ago, I began having sensations that I didn’t recognize. At the time, I was pregnant with my first child, and my doctor thought it was hormones. My stomach would feel sick, I’d get a dirt smell in my nose, and sometimes I couldn’t focus, but then it would disappear. After I gave birth to my third daughter, the sensations became more intense and happened more frequently.