This project was borne from a desperate need to see and hear other mothers - to connect to them and find myself in them. 

In 2020, I was 39, newly divorced, working two jobs virtually, living in an apartment in Atlanta with my cat and dog. Alone when not socializing with friends at a distance. Trying to restore a broken heart while pining for a family that I couldn’t imagine existing in the pandemic world. 

 

By summer 2021, my heart was overflowing: I was engaged, and then a married stepmom of two, and then pregnant, and then renovating a house while teaching at a school in the most rural part of Georgia. 

 

Then, a year from today, with a healthy, happy baby and an intact home and family,  I was thrashing under the force of PTSD which reared its head 8 months after running on sheer adrenaline and awe.  I was pregnant again, and almost certain I was turning feral. 

 

I miscarried 14 weeks into that pregnancy - a harrowing, soul-opening experience. While recovering, I searched for a touchstone. I found it in my long-distance friends and in my colleague at a new job. In the words: yes, I know, I’ve been there too. Or, I’ve been there many times. 

 

 It was genuinely surprising to realize how many women in my life had silently, calmly held the weight of a pregnancy that does not result in a baby. It made me wonder: what other things do mothers hold? What binds us? What sets us apart?
 

Thinking about all the potential answers to these questions gave me solace. It buoyed me to wonder about the myriad of mother’s differences being connected by a few golden threads. 
 

I see each of these women who have graciously and honestly shared a part of themselves as a piece of my raft.  May these stories and perspectives build a raft for you, too, if you need one.