Joni Edelman

My mother didn't teach me how to be a mother. But my babies did.

Our relationship has been a little complicated. I've loved you a lot, and I've loathed you at least that much, but mostly you've just gone unnoticed. Except for those 5 to 7 days every four weeks when you made your presence quite evident, what with the river of life blood and the random excruciating, and from what I can tell, unnecessary, contractions.

Do you want people to for-sure panic? Tell them not to panic.

Being vulnerable, being seen (even lumpy and naked), admitting weakness, asking for help — these acts inspire and edify.

With the help of the midwife—and immense effort on my part—Ella finally slid out into the water. But she was limp, pale. It was scary.

When I heard about accusations that Lena sexually abused her sister, I was astonished. And my visceral emotional reaction prompted powerful questions.

Don’t most kids feel afraid to come home?

Misogyny is pervasive. And my three boys are living it all.

You can work your butt off and still be left with a tummy. Bummer.

Body politics activist. Photographer. Chronic quoter of Monty Python. Unapologetic fat chick.