Forgive me if this post contains any grammatical or spelling errors. You see, I’m writing it from my iPhone, and I’m not particularly experienced in thumbing the keyboard for much more than a few scribbled notes no one but me sees. Typically, I rely on my computer–my only this-is-all-mine-in-our-crazy-family-of-seven-possession. But guess what? As I…
I remember the day I told my obstetrician I might be pregnant with my fifth child. Although he had delivered three of my four children, had consoled me through a miscarriage, and knew my husband and I remained open to life, something about showing up in his office at the ripe old age of…