The first time I thought I was fat was on the bus in fifth grade.

My little thighs were spreading out and sticking to the brown vinyl seat that had, in places, been duct taped together.

It was a hot late spring afternoon and this was North Carolina. The windows were down to cool us off but I was more concerned about the size of my legs than anything else. 

It feels like we’re surrounded by violence. And the violence we’ve been experiencing (mostly, I hope, as bystanders) in our nation and world is tragic. 

Those who commit these violent acts are, in most cases, individuals. Solitary men. (Sorry, dudes, but not so many chicks are involved in mass shootings and terrorist acts.) Men who make a series of decisions that lead them to end the lives of others.

I wasn't one of those women who longed for children, or marriage for that matter.* 

So when we realized in early January of 2014 that I was pregnant (and had been for 4-6 weeks!) I felt lucky.