portrait of an adoption

Forming a community of parents, writing about our agonizing moments of self-doubt and shame when we lose it and scream back at our screamers, allow us to feel less alone during the isolating and terrifying journey of raising babies and young kids.
On opening night, our family of five went to see The Jungle Book. The excitement among the kids was palpable. I sat between my oldest and youngest daughters, one my beloved through adoption, another my beloved through the biology of my body.
It was the first night of Passover, and I was trying to coax my four-year-old into a clean outfit for the Seder. Her polka-dotted tank top from two summers ago and mismatched biking shorts didn't seem appropriate for a formal religious dinner on a cold evening in Chicago.
She couldn't eat, wouldn't eat. Lived on nothing. Never cried, never indicated hunger. Test after test, specialist after specialist, and she grew thinner and thinner. But her wide smile never wavered.
Many prospective parents make a vow to be the perfect mom or dad, that is until they have kids and reality sets in. Carrie Goldman joins Alicia to discuss.
Before I had kids, I possessed many ideas about what kind of parent I would be. Below are ten of those assumptions -- and the reality that followed, post-kids.