Every Monday and Thursday at motherscope.com you will find a new story or poem written by one of our 31 regular contributors from around the world.
At Motherscope, we believe stories are unique and universal. Our mission is to democratize writing and storytelling by elevating the voices of mothers. We believe reading stories is a self-exploratory and unifying experience. When we receive and celebrate another mother's story, we become open to honoring our own.
These stories are here to keep you company, remind you you're never alone on this motherhood journey, and inspire you to take the time to write your own.
Motherwhelm is an Earworm
By Kaitlin Solimine | Motherwhelm is a term. I read it somewhere but now I can’t remember where. I don’t want to Google it. Won’t. Won’t. Can’t. Time limits set for social media; a box in the front hall to hide away phones. For now, the children live in a world without devices to their names — but soon?
The Word for the Third is Catharsis
By Kaitlin Solimine | The eve before I turn 38 weeks pregnant, I start hearing voices saying, “Mama!” The first time, I’m in bed with my second born and hear someone calling “Mama! Mama!” in a desperate cry from down the hall but the voice isn’t a child’s, it’s a man’s: My husband’s?
5 a.m.
By Kaitlin Solimine | “Pregnancy brain” is a state of mind, is a 5 a.m. wake up call to pee, nose sick toddler in my bed, his feet against my back and the baby breaststroking my cervix. Of what am I in service to this time? Of what will I be called to survive? I tell his father birth is like dying. The closest you’ll get to it. Not you/him. Me/her. His eyes are wide and tired. Don’t try to talk to a bird.
The Bluest Egg
By Kaitlin Solimine | It’s the dead center of a very wet summer and I’m pregnant with our third child. We retreat from an urban pandemic, away from the Bay Area’s fog, to the humid marshlands of coastal New England where earthworms line the driveway waiting to desiccate and die, and the kids find a robin’s nest in the roof’s eaves.