She twirls the rings on my fingers as we snuggle in bed. Newly 4 and full of questions, my daughter seeks to know the world. “Mommy, why do you wear these rings?” We move effortlessly through her birthstone, my engagement and wedding rings. But how to explain the other three gold bands? Each is a marker of a pregnancy lost, embryos that didn’t grow. These are the siblings I dreamed for you, the babies I longed to hold. Someday we’ll grapple with loss, but today, I share a simple truth: These rings, my darling girl, they are all about love. — Christine Elizabeth Chernikoff
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I told Patrick he’d love white water rafting, but his cries of terror made it clear I was wrong. Everyone wanted to convince Patrick, the only kid on a raft of adults, that rafting was capital “F” Fun. He tried to be brave, but after a particularly massive rapid, he reached for our guide. “Sir, you are going to let me off this boat. Now.” I’ve never been prouder of my son than at that moment, when he honored his truth despite the disappointment it caused; fighting against the tide with his small, clear voice that demanded to be heard. — Rebecca Anne Nguyen
ImageJust before we hit the rapids in South Maitland, Nova Scotia.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.
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