Rachel Ogilby

A new hire at Hospital Orientation gave me a warm smile, one of dozens I had received throughout the week as I reentered the nursing profession at my previous employer. The statement brightened my day and the words stayed with me for weeks, enveloping my head and heart and whispering in my ear, “You matter. You matter. You matter.” It was the kind of validation I had been searching for as I reflected back on the chaotic time of motherhood, international moves, and personal turmoil from the pas

I walked into the library as I had hundreds of times over the past year. This time, I was alone; an extremely rare occurrence, and one I cherished. I breathed in deeply as soon as I walked in, noting the smell of old books.

It was Tuesday morning, and I had just parked our new electric cargo bike at Whole Foods. Both toddlers were sitting in their seats, buckled, helmets on, enjoying the songs of Winnie the Pooh on the portable speaker.