I feel you flutter, but it isn't enough. I go to the doctor's office; count all 10 fingers, 10 toes, wiggling before my eyes in 2-dimensional black and white. But it still isn't enough. I wake up twice every night to pee, feel the gurgle in my throat at an unwelcome smell, have all the wildest dreams. And it isn't enough. Maybe at 24 weeks—"viability," they call it. The week your cousin was born, and she's 6 now. Maybe then I'll feel confident. Or maybe not. At every appointm

Getting pregnant is easy or so it's been said Your husband just looks at you Mine too. And a team of doctors, nurses, embryologists The room is full of frenzy when I conceive I just need to put it out of my head To take a vacation, you say — as if treatment has not already swallowed my savings Because getting pregnant is simple But if it's not happening for me It might be my diet; something wrong I can't see "I told you!" you'll say when I finally have happy news to share I w

---The below excerpt is a chapter from my debut memoir, Temple and Ash--- I am sitting on the front porch watching a spring rain soak the already-damp earth. I so rarely sit like this; never allowing myself a moment to rest. To just be. But today is Mother’s Day. And the weather is kind to me, poignantly reflecting my mood. As I watch muddy puddles form across the saturated lawn, an old song plays in my head. A song from childhood. Rafi, I think. The lyrics are silly and a