Miranda’s Story

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Close up of mother holding toddler and stuffed elephant. Mother's eyes are closed and is facing down. Only the top left half of the toddler's face is visible.

Motherhood

I am the mother whose body swelled with pregnancy.
I am the mother who dreamed and wanted and planned.
I am the mother who left my heart in a small and curtained alcove room.
I am the mother who screamed and cried and begged.

4 April 2021 – Memories Part 2

I wrote about this not that long ago. Memories are funny, and a particular memory I had been holding onto turned out to be different than what I remembered. How do we reconcile these things? For me, I think sometimes this is why I write.

30 March 2021 – The 13th Guest

When I was older I learned more about fairy story history—Sleeping beauty’s rape and Ariel’s death from pining. And yet, in spite of everything, I still wanted this kind of magic in my world. Is this how it happens? Is this how we dream, even knowing the faults inside of our wishing?

30 March 2021 – Subsumed Grief

I met Liam only months before Adrian’s first birthday. We were thrown together by circumstances, and I was still only focusing on the things right in front of me—eat, sleep, breathe. I was taking steps into the world, but they were tiny. And it was literally weeks before I noticed Liam was noticing me. And he still had to finally, bluntly come right out and say it.

27 March 2021 – Community

I was weird before Adrian died, and then after his death I realized I was more weird. I don’t believe in a higher power. I don’t worship or pray or seek meaning. And in places here, like in Megan’s world, I think I find like minds. But sometimes not entirely. And sometimes not at all outside this world.

26 March 2021 – Landscape

I remember being angry when people tried to cheer me up in those early days. I didn’t know much about grief then, but I was quickly learning. I could tell, already, this wasn’t how it worked. You don’t comfort someone’s grief by denying it exists. Is it so hard to understand this?

24 March 2021 – Emulation

My daughter threw a tantrum on the kitchen floor just now. Wrought face and wet-noodily, she bemoaned the breakage of the back of her high chair, even though SHE was the one who broke it. I try very hard not to laugh at these things. The world is heavy when you’re tiny.

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