Catherine Gigante-Brown

“It’s almost as though this niche was patiently waiting for us to find it.”

My husband and I agreed: raising a child with an independent spirit who made decisions for himself was a good thing.

At first, I felt like an abandoned ten-year-old, dropped off at a remote summer camp—with the extra added attraction of no cell phone reception or Wi-Fi. I thought the hardest part of the weekend was going to be picking out a robe. Boy, was I wrong!

Although I tried to convince myself that I wasn't racist, if the truth were told, I didn't like Muslims. Especially after 9/11.

Alas, I am the lone female in a house full of men. Only two men, but they take up a lot of space.

I saw my present mother-in-law in a whole new light the first time she held my newborn son.

You realize pretty soon that everything other than cancer — i.e. missing a train, being late to your dentist appointment — is no biggie compared to the suck factor of chemo.

The santero sent us off with a shopping list of ite

I fumbled with my lace bra, hoping my silicone form wouldn't fall out from the left cup. I wasn't exactly ready . . . yet I was.

I immediately developed a hot-and-heavy girlcrush on the wild, wacky, brash, candid, feminist, rubber-faced comedian—and you should too.