Leaving the house with a baby or small child is a feat worthy of a medal. When I first did it with my two-week-old son, I sent my husband a photograph to celebrate. In the photo, my tiny baby is in the newborn insert of the baby carrier. It’s a warm day in March, and...
In this month’s blog, I share how my childhood Christmas story was and continues to be shaped by intergenerational trauma. On Christmas Eve 1963, Alexander and May were coming home from a party with friends when the car they were travelling in...
