By Jill Yancey | Last year my family moved from Washington State to South Carolina, and last week we went back to visit for the first time since moving away. Our visit was filled with bittersweetness. On our last night in town, my children were heartbroken. “We want to move back. We miss everyone here.” My heart sank. I knew they’d feel this way, but still, I dreaded hearing it.

By Mary Rothery | I came undone on my kitchen floor. I curled my body into Child’s Pose as my tears soaked into the old wood, wrapping myself around a heart that was breaking. Earlier, my voice cracked as I begged my husband to take my daughter out. She can’t see me like this.

By Christine Carpenter | Boa feathers in a rainbow of colors litter the steps outside Four Pennsylvania Plaza. Faux quills dancing with the gust of wind from pedestrians and concert-goers, the only remnants of a sold-out show. Less than an hour ago, Madison Square Garden was vibrating, the stadium seating quaking beneath us. I am 34 years old and have just experienced my first Harry Styles concert . . .

By Colleen Tirtirian | The dock bumped beneath us with the flow of the tide. I steadied my feet and grabbed my children’s hands. “Do not let go,” I quietly pleaded with them as they pulled me toward the small boat. “No. No. Don’t pull me. I lead here and you follow,” I told them, though my subconscious reminded me that I am no kind of leader. I am just good at faking it when it matters.

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?

By Leslie Yeary | from “Nana” - Nana drank tea on wraparound / porches with Mrs. Rosemary Clooney / and other Maysville queens. / I steep my own bag of rosemary, / lemon sage, and honey in a pink mug / coarse to the touch with glitter.

By Leesha Mony | It was a cool and peaceful day. We moved with ease and openness as we made our way down the ravine near our new home. The breeze carried a playfulness that had returned after a long season. Finally, after making a big move, we were able to not only explore our surroundings but also try and connect to one another.

By Kelsey Cichoski | There’s an experience in motherhood that I've had more than once. It’s normal, not offensive, and appropriate for conversations in the community. Yet, I still haven’t perfected navigating this experience from my end. It happens when a stranger or new acquaintance asks, “How many kids do you have?”

By Jacqueline Hernandez Lewis | from “Our Last Baby?” - Unsure whether he’s our last baby / I’ve treated him as such / Trying to be at peace / With whatever our decision might be / Trying my best to take it all in / His every movement / Every milestone / Every touch / While at the same time / Juggling so much

By Kailyn Rhinehart | I’ve been riding horses since I was eight years old. I’ve been thrown into the air off a horse’s back. I’ve held onto the neck of a thoroughbred as it leapt over a jump. I’ve learned how to angle my body as the being beneath me bends around barrels at breakneck speed.

By Melaina Williams | from “FIT” - The clothes don’t fit. / Not the pre, maternity or / ever-changing post. / I need new clothes, / custom fit for me. / Not too tight. / Not too big. / Curved just right / so, I can walk like me / and feel the free / in the seams and the cut. / The clothes don’t fit. / Not 4 or 8. Not 14 or 16. / I am always in-between

By Lucy Beckley | ‘Are you still there?’ I say. The line crackles. ‘Hello? Are you still there?’ I repeat, louder than necessary, to my husband over the phone. Frustration plumes above me like cloud trails. Our conversation stumbles and stutters as the line falters and then drops.

By Holly Ruskin | Scrolling Instagram while I lay with my daughter as she napped, I came across a phrase that I just can’t seem to shake off. It was in relation to motherhood, how we (women, men, society at large) underestimate the toll that it takes on a woman.

By Eunice Brownlee | I never wanted to be a mother.
At twenty three years old, I tried to convince a doctor to let me have my tubes tied because I knew then I definitely did not want kids. I was told I was “too young to make that kind of decision” and “you’ll probably change your mind when you’re older.”

By Micah Klassen | A number of weeks ago, my mother-in-law took the boys and me to a nursery to pick out some plants as a housewarming gift, and after arriving home, we spent the morning in the backyard (in the rain) slowly repotting flowers.

By Kate Bailey | I look at the seat of the grocery cart, and I wonder if she’s getting too big for it. “I can fit, mommy! I’m small!” She’s right. She slides right in, kicks her legs back and forth, and grips the handlebar.

By Crystal James | I had milk to dispose of, but I wasn’t sure where to do it. I stared at the milk, wishing one of those spirits would whisper what to do with it. I felt paralyzed by how to proceed like one wrong move, and I’d step on an explosive. This is the result of growing up in an alcoholic home.

By Maddy Hill | from For you - Babe of mine, so soft and sweet, / come and lie upon my chest. / Here is where you and I will meet, / And softly I will sing for you. / I was clumsy before you came, / but tenderly I’ll hold your hand

By Alyssa Nutile | When I was a girl, I had bunk beds, which might seem inconsequential, except that I was an only child until I graduated high school. But I was desperate for bunk beds because all my friends with siblings had them, and eventually my parents relented and found a secondhand set for me.

By Megan Vos | I snap a picture of my partner and our younger daughter, age seven, at a picnic table in Endovalley Picnic Area in Rocky Mountain National Park. My daughter is holding a book of Mad Libs, and when you look at the photo, you can almost hear her laugh.