Tag Archives: Jaded Ibis Press

I had fantasies about how hugely creative I would be while pregnant — my body’s creation of a new person would ignite unprecedented levels of inspired creativity for my brain. I never expected how appallingly far off that was. My brain had never before experienced such vacuous emptiness as it did during those early weeks of pregnancy. Not even in my early 20s when I smoked tons of marijuana every day.

Most days, sitting at…

It’s never neat and tidy. It doesn’t feel comfortable in clothes. While it hurts, it doesn’t hurt in the typical way but is heavy and low and pulling, like roots — not pleasant but real and necessary and satisfying.

It doesn’t ask permission, it just comes.

It doesn’t always flow. It also trickles and gushes and clots.

It’s strangely comforting although isolating: it doesn’t want you to socialize or be around people but you’re amenable to that…