These were posts that I wrote with a million things weighing on me.

They were born of fear or frustration. Or anger. Posts that question the where, how and why of things we do.

Many of these echo things you have also felt, which is why we became friends. Or, if you haven’t read them yet, why we will become friends.

 

A Moment with Breath

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Reading Time: 6 minutes
This is a personal post about moving, change, remembrance and living. I started writing it on December 12th, 2023 and finished a month later. I need to stop saying I don’t look back much, because it’s just not true. I think I look back with a fair amount of regularity. I’m a nostalgic type of…

The Influence of Disability Within My World

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Reading Time: 5 minutes
Although I’ve had a disability since I was 4 years old (that we know of anyway), I was mainstreamed at all times. In my family, “disability” was something reserved for people who used wheelchairs. The answer to any disability-related issue I may have had growing up was invariably: try a little harder God only gives…

Proud Flesh

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I went through the windshield of a car when I was 4 years old. It tore off most of my left eyebrow, sliced open my entire forehead and ripped up the skin under my mouth. This post is about my facial scars resulting from that car accident. Proud Flesh, “exuberant granulation tissue” – the first…
choosing moxie: a birth story of bravery, disability and down syndrome

Choosing Moxie

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Reading Time: 7 minutes
This was originally published on March 6, 2013 It is an account of the time that I was pregnant with Moxie. Please be aware this post discusses violence, sexual abuse and abortion. You can listen to me read this post by clicking the player below, or on my podcast on Spotify or iTunes. I. The…

I Never Knew I Wanted a Child with Down syndrome Until I Had One

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Reading Time: 4 minutes
What feels like a million years ago, I was on the Baby Center Down syndrome Board. I was immersing myself in the questions, the comments, the endless threads. The talk, the chatter, the crying, the heartache. The “brag”s. One signature struck me in particular, “I never knew I wanted a child with Down syndrome until…