It was nearly four years ago that my daughter was born to me, without pain or contractions, on the side of a road.
But if this election has taught me anything, it's that we need to lean on each other—now more than ever.
We already have two beautiful, little toe-headed boys of our own and didn’t feel any need to rock the we’ve-finally-got-our-heads-above-water boat
“A child born to another woman calls me Mommy. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege is not lost on me.”
Your life will never be the same. Hallelujah. Your life will never be the same.
My daughter was nine years old the first time I laid eyes on her.
I think of you often. You are the woman who gave my daughter life; my first child who called me “mommy.”
It’s National Adoption Awareness Month, and it’s something close to our hearts at Mamalode.
There comes the time in the life of every mother, when we suddenly realize we are mothers.
You were my son’s first mother. You were the one who conceived, carried, and gave birth to him across the world.
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