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I Wish I’d Gone Hysterical

In June 1970, I was unprepared when my first child was born with a serious birth defect. Before I was told about

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On Mother’s Day

This project had a simple beginning. I was forty-five when I invited my seventy-year-old mother to explore our different memories of our

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Choosing Ourselves Matters

If we don’t choose ourselves, who will? Choosing ourselves means taking ourselves seriously. Making our own wishes and needs central in our

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Harelip … What’s in a Word?

Recently, someone referred to my son’s birth defect as a “hare lip.” I winced. Why? Because I’ve heard too many jokes about

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Privileged Defects

We’ve had some feedback that my poem Let Us Be Clear feels like a caveat to the book, even undermining our story

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Titling ‘Choosing Ourselves’

People ask about the title of the memoir I wrote with my son Jim. The phrase Choosing Ourselves occurs in my narrative

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