Gemma Hartley

How was I supposed to tell my son, who was already preoccupied and frightened by the idea of death, that his new little brother or sister was gone, that I'd had a miscarriage? I didn't know. So I lied.

Making friends as a grown woman is hard. I figured out a few tips on how to set up successful one-on-one friend dates, as well as how to handle the territory of a budding platonic relationship with another woman.

It probably isn’t the sort of parenting moment that is supposed to make a mother proud — the hitting, growling, and otherwise uncivilized decorum... But I couldn’t help feeling a deep satisfaction with my daughter.

I wonder because I think I'm making the same mistakes with my daughter. She hardly eats. She's very picky. I feel like food is a constant struggle between us. I also feel like it's all my fault.

I’m not saying there is no joy to motherhood. I go through periods where I do feel like I’m at my parenting best. There are times when I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the amazing life and children I’ve been given. It can be so, so good. But what I’m saying is, it doesn’t always have to feel like that.

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 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.

I hate some of the things I see my friends and family post on Facebook.

I was lucky enough to avoid a great deal of body negativity growing up.