Category Archives: Memoir

Show Don’t Tell: On Loving by Showing How

You may have noticed a dry spell on Honest Conversations. O.k. More than a dry spell. I took a little writing break and stretched some other creative muscles—my crafting muscles. And in doing so, I’ve had great fun with my boys. I’m a huge believer in the power of creativity to bring joy and attention…

The Way it Is for Me: Art and Ecstacy

Am I the only one?  No is generally the answer.  Uniqueness is a myth.  Sameness is more the order of things.  We humans are more alike than different.  That is our blessing, the grace of common experience amid the pain of perceived separation.   I sat in the dark amid audience looking at him sitting…

Cleaning House: Or psychoanalysis on the cheap

I have moved every few years since 1993.  Each move is an opportunity to ruthlessly rid myself of Stuff.  Over time I’ve noticed some trends that say a great deal about me– good and (charitably) less good.   The Rule:  If I haven’t used it in the past twelve months, it is trashed, recycled, or…

A Love Story

 I fell in love with my eldest the way you fall in love with anything God makes just for you.  I could not drink him in fast enough.  My eyes did not see the same J as the rest of the world.  Instead, I saw a tiny miracle in human form looking up at me…

T-Rex, Story Time, and Our First Real Talk about the Birth Mom

            J is three.  He knows he is adopted.  If you ask him whose tummy he grew in he can tell you.  “Melanie’s!” he’ll say, as if he’s discussing Disney World.  And if you ask whose tummy his baby brother, W, grew in you’ll get the same response.  “Melanie’s!”  We took J home from the…

Neurological Catastrophe: Notes from a “good” migraine patient

  “Emergency Department,” the voice clipped on the other end of the line.  What do you want you pain-drug-seeking-freak, said the voice in my head, reading the mind of the woman on the phone.   “Um, hi,” I whispered, “My name is Amy.  I’m a chronic migraine patient from out of town.  Does your department…

Meeting my Sons’ Birthmother for the Third Time: The Pain of Not Adopting

Her name is Melanie and looking back, I see what little I understood about how enmeshed our lives would become when my husband and I adopted her baby boy in 2008 . I foolishly thought our paths had met again only briefly, in February 2010, when I called our adoption agency to see if Melanie…