Cocoon

I talk to a lot of people about their experiences of becoming parents. I am always struck by the difference in the ideas people have about parenthood before they become parents versus after. Which may be obvious because, let’s be honest, on paper, parenthood doesn’t look that great. Lots of noise, lots of messes, power struggles with toddlers, years of interrupted sleep, and so much more. It is a lot. Who would ever sign up for that? But the interesting thing is, that once you start talking with real parents about real children they are really raising, the tone changes and the lists of pros and cons mostly disappear. In fact, I would argue that if you are using a pros and cons list to determine whether or not you should have a child, you are using the wrong tool. I wrote this essay for Wayfare magazine to explore the aspects of parenthood that generally don't make it on to the pro/con lists, to argue for the more of parenthood that is joyful, fulfilling, wondrous, abundant. https://www.wayfaremagazine.org/p/abundance-and-natality

As a young single woman living in a punk house in LA, Sarah made an unusual choice: to become certified as a foster parent. Over the next few years Sarah welcomed young traumatized children and surly teenagers into her home and gave them all the love she had to give. Then, after days, or weeks, or months, she let them go. Sarah talks about what it is like to not know the end of the story, to know that maybe nothing is fixed, and how she sees her role as a foster mother in both the lives of the children she loves and the parents who are trying their best with what resources they have available.

Tysha was basically born wanting to have a family of her own, with as many children as she could handle. But she got a late start, and it seemed as though she might never reach the destination she'd had in her heart when she started.

For 17 years Jamie had hoped to have a baby but only experienced loss after loss after loss. Meanwhile, her cousin Bonnie was watching and waiting—knowing and hoping that she could offer a solution that would bring healing to both of them.

After a bit of difficulty trying to get pregnant with their third baby together, Kristin and David decided to pursue IVF. It was an experience that would stretch them and help Kristin find her own boundaries around her body.

David and Kristin got married in 2008 and after taking some time to adjust and blend their lives with their 3 children, they decided it was time to try to have a baby together. Before too long, they were parents of two daughters. And then . . . things started to drift.

When David was 30, he was a kindergarten teacher in a rough part of LA. He decided that, despite being a single man, there must be something he could do to relieve the suffering of a child in foster care and chose to pursue adoption for a child in need. It was the first step in creating a home that is a refuge for many different people with many different needs.

Amanda was at a crossroads in her life—a tricky transitional place between bearing children and moving beyond that—when a friend asked for some help finding someone who might be willing to be a surrogate for her. Amanda took some time to think about it and found that she could be that person. Over the course of the next year, Amanda took on a physical and emotional challenge that would not only result in a beautiful baby girl, but in strengthened friendships, greater peace as she closed her childbearing chapter, and (no surprise) the best sleep of her life.

Rebecca decided to pursue a career in medicine about the same time that she had her first baby. And it has always been an open question whether she could have both the family she dreamed of and the career she felt called to. Recently that question has been pressing on her with a little more urgency and she reached out to Lizzie, who happens to be a friend of hers, to talk about it. Lizzie thinks about these kinds of things a lot. The two of them talked about some of the hopes and hesitations that fuel our decisions regarding our families, about the difficulties of being a mother in the workplace, and about how things have changed for working mothers—at least since we've been paying attention. Questions that remain unanswered: can you have it all? Professional fulfillment and a house full of babies? Should you even try? Can you live with yourself if you don't? We don't really know the answers to anything, but sometimes it can help to talk it out with a friend.

Four and a half years ago, Jill stood on the sidewalk and watched as another family drove away with the little boy she had given birth to days before. While pregnant, she had been unemployed, depressed, and certain she could not care for a child the way he deserved to be cared for. But the experience did not quiet the yearning she had always felt to be a mom. If anything, it strengthened it. At first Jill set aside the feelings, but time passed and while her circumstances changed, her feelings didn't. She soon had a job, a relationship, and a medication that stabilized her mental health—and she wanted to try again to be a mom. And now, just a few years from that curbside goodbye, Jill's life has taken so many turns that you might think you had wandered into someone else's story. Click here for the first part of Jill's story: I Could Bring Him to His Family.

Robin’s first pregnancy was one of the happiest times of her life—and something she had been looking forward to since childhood. But when she was 41 weeks and 6 days pregnant, she found out that a lot of things can happen when babies are born. In the aftermath of Robin’s pregnancy, she had a lot of work to do. Healing for herself, sensitivity to her husband and his trauma—and looking ahead to her future family. And that meant preparing to face another pregnancy, another childbirth where anything could happen. When we meet someone like Robin, or hear of them, we often say, “I could never handle that. I could never survive something like she did.” But we all experience fear, anxiety, disappointment and when we hear these stories of people who have faced a huge loss, we generally come away with hope, and with love. Not only do we feel compassion for someone else’s struggle, but we can find strength and a starting point and someone to emulate in facing our own struggles.   Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep What Can I Do To Help? Robin’s Living With Kids Post on Design Mom

Robin’s first pregnancy was one of the happiest times of her life—and something she had been looking forward to since childhood. But when she was 41 weeks and 6 days pregnant, she found out that a lot of things can happen when babies are born. In the aftermath of Robin’s pregnancy, she had a lot of work to do. Healing for herself, sensitivity to her husband and his trauma—and looking ahead to her future family. And that meant preparing to face another pregnancy, another childbirth where anything could happen. When we meet someone like Robin, or hear of them, we often say, “I could never handle that. I could never survive something like she did.” But we all experience fear, anxiety, disappointment and when we hear these stories of people who have faced a huge loss, we generally come away with hope, and with love. Not only do we feel compassion for someone else’s struggle, but we can find strength and a starting point and someone to emulate in facing our own struggles.   Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep What Can I Do To Help? Robin’s Living With Kids Post on Design Mom

Valerie and I often talk about how, no matter when we talk to someone, we are always in the middle of their story. We continue to change and evolve and process and grow. Our priorities change, our circumstances change, our lives change. We adjust, we readjust, we find balance—and then we fall again. And begin again. More than 4 years ago I wrote about what it was like trying to rebuild my life after a devastating miscarriage knocked me off my feet. I’ve revisited that essay and updated it to give an update on what feelslike a continual rebuilding and readjusting to a new life. It was inspired by Omid Safi’s poem “Other Worlds Await You.” We’d love to hear about where you are in your story—where you came from, where you are going, what you’ve become on the way. Reach out on our website or social media. Hope to hear from you soon!

Valerie and I often talk about how, no matter when we talk to someone, we are always in the middle of their story. We continue to change and evolve and process and grow. Our priorities change, our circumstances change, our lives change. We adjust, we readjust, we find balance—and then we fall again. And begin again. More than 4 years ago I wrote about what it was like trying to rebuild my life after a devastating miscarriage knocked me off my feet. I’ve revisited that essay and updated it to give an update on what feelslike a continual rebuilding and readjusting to a new life. It was inspired by Omid Safi’s poem “Other Worlds Await You.” We’d love to hear about where you are in your story—where you came from, where you are going, what you’ve become on the way. Reach out on our website or social media. Hope to hear from you soon!

Andrea Weaver’s family We all know that in family planning there is no “one size fits all,” there is no, “take this quiz and find out how many kids you should have!” There is not necessarily a magic number or a magic feeling. We knew that for many women the decision is just as much of an emotional decision as it is a rational one, that often spirituality and religion enter the picture, and that to even be having this conversation is a serious privilege—and at times a very weighty privilege. Stephanie Robertson’s crew So we talked to three women—one who is done have kids, one who undecided, and one who is open to having all the babies—about their experiences in childbearing. We talk about finances, spirituality, the culture of large families (and the culture as a whole), and all the things (silly and serious) that may weigh on our minds when thinking about babies. Alanna Smith and her family. We share these conversations with the hope that others (maybe even you!) can hear and discern what aspects of the decision are important to you and which are not. Maybe you’ll recognize some of your own hopes and thoughts and fears. But we also hope that you will make space for these women to have their own ideas and values and lives and that you wish them well on their own personal journeys.

Andrea Weaver’s family We all know that in family planning there is no “one size fits all,” there is no, “take this quiz and find out how many kids you should have!” There is not necessarily a magic number or a magic feeling. We knew that for many women the decision is just as much of an emotional decision as it is a rational one, that often spirituality and religion enter the picture, and that to even be having this conversation is a serious privilege—and at times a very weighty privilege. Stephanie Robertson’s crew So we talked to three women—one who is done have kids, one who undecided, and one who is open to having all the babies—about their experiences in childbearing. We talk about finances, spirituality, the culture of large families (and the culture as a whole), and all the things (silly and serious) that may weigh on our minds when thinking about babies. Alanna Smith and her family. We share these conversations with the hope that others (maybe even you!) can hear and discern what aspects of the decision are important to you and which are not. Maybe you’ll recognize some of your own hopes and thoughts and fears. But we also hope that you will make space for these women to have their own ideas and values and lives and that you wish them well on their own personal journeys.

Eighteen years ago, when Kelli was 24 weeks pregnant, she left work wondering if she had pushed herself too hard. She was feeling sick—something was wrong. By the end of the evening she would be rushed to the hospital and her baby would be delivered. At 24 weeks and 1 day, he was a micro-premie just barely on the living side of viability. For the next 4 months, Kelli’s life revolved around the isolated and tenuous world of the NICU, where parents whose hopes and dreams had been brought up short watched and waited to see how their tiny babies would fare. It was a lonely, scary time for Kelli. So much uncertainty, so few opportunities for connection. After Kelli and her baby emerged from the NICU, Kelli continued to grapple with the effects of that stressful time. As the years passed she built a program to help other parents of premies get the help and the support—mental, physical, emotional, social—that they need to get through the harrowing experience of preterm birth. From the depth of her experience, Kelli offers others a hand to hold.   Learn more about Kelli’s organization A Hand to Hold at handtohold.org.

Eighteen years ago, when Kelli was 24 weeks pregnant, she left work wondering if she had pushed herself too hard. She was feeling sick—something was wrong. By the end of the evening she would be rushed to the hospital and her baby would be delivered. At 24 weeks and 1 day, he was a micro-premie just barely on the living side of viability. For the next 4 months, Kelli’s life revolved around the isolated and tenuous world of the NICU, where parents whose hopes and dreams had been brought up short watched and waited to see how their tiny babies would fare. It was a lonely, scary time for Kelli. So much uncertainty, so few opportunities for connection. After Kelli and her baby emerged from the NICU, Kelli continued to grapple with the effects of that stressful time. As the years passed she built a program to help other parents of premies get the help and the support—mental, physical, emotional, social—that they need to get through the harrowing experience of preterm birth. From the depth of her experience, Kelli offers others a hand to hold.   Learn more about Kelli’s organization A Hand to Hold at handtohold.org.

When Kristy went into labor at 33 weeks gestation and had her baby via emergency c-section, it seemed like a series of small miracles took place. She and the baby would have the healthiest outcome in a scary, unpredictable situation. End of story. But week after week, as Kristy and her family learned more about what had possibly caused her pre-term labor, it became clear how truly dire the situation was. Over the course of the next year and a half, Kristy endured a physically and emotionally painful roller coaster ride that left her with scars and bruises—but also with some of the most beautiful perspectives and relationships that life has to offer. Click here for Kristy’s GoFundMe account. 

When Kristy went into labor at 33 weeks gestation and had her baby via emergency c-section, it seemed like a series of small miracles took place. She and the baby would have the healthiest outcome in a scary, unpredictable situation. End of story. But week after week, as Kristy and her family learned more about what had possibly caused her pre-term labor, it became clear how truly dire the situation was. Over the course of the next year and a half, Kristy endured a physically and emotionally painful roller coaster ride that left her with scars and bruises—but also with some of the most beautiful perspectives and relationships that life has to offer. Click here for Kristy’s GoFundMe account.