I’m glad for the good times and the homemaking skills, the little songs she sang us, the silliness and the ethics. Her years of patience.
Rachel Zimmerman writes, “I am a mother, after all. When the ‘secondary infertility’ phrase rolls off my tongue, I often feel like a fraud.”
Anna Martin writes, “As fall faded into winter, I crossed the halfway date in pregnancy. But the pounds piled up faster than the weeks.”
I feel responsible for the discussion that happens here. I am the moderator, and this is my space. However, I am caught in something of a dilemma.
Being an Anabaptist woman, while fulfilling, presents certain challenges: such as where to buy good fabric and what to do with your long hair.
This applies to more than friendships with women. It applies to marriage, child-raising, and all manner of things. People are what you believe them to be.