The Old Fetal Narrative
Maybe it has something to do with the watery world that a fetus inhabits—our words taking on the summersaulting quality of an internal water ballet.
Posts by tag
pregnancy
200 posts
What We Lost: Undoing the Fairy Tale Narrative of Adoption
The singular, unavoidable truth about adoption is that it requires the undoing of one family so that another one can come into being.
The Rumpus Interview with Belle Boggs
Belle Boggs discusses The Art of Waiting about navigating through the difficulties of conception and fertility treatment.
Hard to Kill
Now everything finally made sense. I had practically died and woken up, resurrected. That’s why everyone was looking at me funny. Like its cousin Death, Near-Death leaves a stench that makes people uncomfortable.
The Rumpus Interview with Brit Bennett
Brit Bennett discusses her debut novel The Mothers, investigating “what-if” moments, and navigating racism in white spaces.
The Rumpus Review of Bridget Jones’s Baby
Perhaps Bridget fans who watched the movies but never read the books might not find this movie to be such a hard blow... But those who read the books—and those who loved the pilgrim soul in Bridget—will feel the loss more keenly.
A Man’s ABCs of Miscarriage
I once heard the only thing faster than the speed of light is the speed of thought, and I wonder if simply thinking about Sawyer’s sister until my head hurts could get us to the place we fear talking about.
Life on the Rope
In a moving piece for Hunger Mountain, Dionisia Morales relates her experiences with rock climbing and her troubled first pregnancy: You convince yourself that those other women, the ones who have…
The Saturday Rumpus Interview with Ramona Ausubel
I find tremendous hope in the act of storytelling—the way we can redirect energy, to reclaim history, to build back lives that have been otherwise upset.
The Life Jacket
How later you learned grief and love are partners too. How love held you through grief’s fire.
The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Milwaukee. Rust. A Baby.
By the light of early morning, I am writhing in pain again, the drugs are done. But there is a tiny creature—mammal, female—attached to my breast. That is supposed to make it more bearable.
Past the Break
Past the break lies motherhood as I understand it: the rawest life that lifts and falls and crashes against beauty, and the eternal potential for heartbreak.