The last few years were hard for me and for my family. There was nothing outwardly wrong - we were healthy, we were figuring out how to live through a pandemic in New York City, we were raising our three kids. But there were fractures in our marriage and those fractures weren’t healing. I held onto the hope that he would change, that I would change, that things would get easier and it turns out hope isn’t enough.
Read MoreIf you’re new to me, here’s a little background for you. I’m a 40-year-old woman living in Morningside Heights (a little known neighborhood in NYC, north of the Upper West Side and south of Harlem) with my husband. Together we’ve grown our family to include three kids, all of whom weighed 9 pounds or more at birth (the third clocked in at 9 pounds, 12 ounces and you can imagine the physical repercussions of bringing that watermelon into this world).
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