Gemma Hartley

Again and again I refuse to prioritize, refuse to let anything slide, at the expense of my physical and mental health.

Last week, the internet went into an understandable uproar when a Christian woman decided to take to Facebook to talk about how she is

I went on to drink a small glass of wine or two per week throughout my pregnancy once I got over the initial shock of it being unplanned. Once I had adjusted to the fact that I was going to bring another baby into the world, I was still overwhelmed by the stress it brought on. I had suffered from postpartum depression after the birth of my son and we had decided not to have any more children. I didn't want the risks or the horrible anxiety that came with pregnancy. Yet here I was, facing all that uncertainty again. Damn right I needed a drink.

I want and need to save some room for myself, to know that I am worthy of a place in the world without the label of mother.

Getting pregnant after postpartum depression may have stolen a lot from me, but it gave me a lot more.

My six-year-old son got into the car after school and declared he only wanted to have one kid when he grew up.

As a freelancer who works from home, I get the best of both worlds as a parent.

The money is great, but it is not the best part of becoming a working mom. Having my own career has shifted the power balance of my relationship.

...[M]en get a lot of praise for the “extra-credit work” they do in regards to domestic labor (the actual house cleaning and keeping work) and emotional labor (the invisible work that ensures the rest gets done) no matter what day of the year.

Back when I had my first child, back when he was still a baby, I imagined us moving to the mountains. I was thinking about having three more kids, living off the grid, and soaking up every last bit of their wild childhood. It was a fantasy, through and through.