Prose poetry

Image by W_photography from Canva Pro

The day that Andy died, I was in Mississippi.
Coming home from class at ten after midnight,
I did not expect the phone call.

The day that Andy died, my roommate decided to sleep with my boyfriend.
It didn’t happen that night, but the plans were laid —
It was a Friday, and they were going to New Orleans for the weekend.

The day that Andy died, I could not cry.
I put on a warm coat and walked to a private place on base.
I had been trying to write for ages but the words would not come.


You are reading my mind, Sean. Embracing my fears was how I got through pregnancy after loss. I had to accept that really bad things happen, while still hoping for the best. Thank you as always <3

Stethoscope on top of blood pressure machine
Stethoscope on top of blood pressure machine
Stethoscope and blood pressure device (Rallef, Getty Images)

When I was pregnant for the first time, I remember reading about preeclampsia in my prenatal education books and also here and there in articles online. I knew many of the symptoms and warning signs, and I thought I was pretty prepared if any of them became relevant during my pregnancy. It turns out there was quite a bit I didn’t know.

In honor of Preeclampsia Awareness Month, I am sharing some things I wish I had been more aware of before preeclampsia resulted in the death of my son.

Note: Factual information in this article is referenced and derived…

Adrian’s Elephant and my boots (personal photo)

Someone looked through my writing the other day and commented that, if you didn’t know better, you wouldn’t know I was in the military. (So if this is the first time you are hearing about it — surprise, I guess?) And yes, I am an officer in the United States Air Force.

I never intended to keep this a “secret.” If you look back at some of my letters and original blog posts, you will see references; even photos of me in uniform. But I did make a conscious decision not to emphasize this part of my identity. In my…

The other night, in one of the pregnancy groups I follow, someone posted about reduced movement and being concerned. My daughter had also been less active that day, and I was reading the message boards for distraction while I settled and waited for her to get active. Having lost my first child after I reported reduced fetal movement, I am always on the watch for these things now. I think it’s something we don’t talk about enough.

I’ve seen several of these types of posts in the group, and I’m glad that the most common response is to suggest that…

(personal photo)

It’s the phone call you never expect to receive. It comes from your sister; your coworker; your best friend. She has been pregnant, and you’ve been following her pregnancy with so much excitement. You threw her a baby shower. You bought her a box of diapers and a ridiculously expensive ruffly outfit for coming home. You’ve been so excited to meet this new child, and when you pick up the phone, your first words are, “Is he here yet?” You assume she is calling to let you know her baby has been born. Instead, she tells you, “He died.” …

My maternity photo with Amy Anne (Modern Lux Photography)

When I was three years old, my mom took me to look at a litter of new puppies. They were tiny, scrawling balls of curly gray and brown fur. I think there were three or four of them; I don’t really remember. I just remember smiling when my mom told me to choose.

We came back a bit later, when the puppies had gotten bigger. Ours came home with us, and we settled into new puppy life. And while yes, she was the family dog, her special place was always with my mother. My mother named her Ewok. It seemed…

I’ve been re-watching old TV shows lately, and there’s a moment in “How I Met Your Mother” that I keep coming back to. For a show that purports to be comedy, there are some surprisingly deeper levels. And in one of them, we learn that one of the main characters, Robin, doesn’t want to be a mother.

This is so interesting to me! And I think part of it is because it’s seen as uncommon. Women are “supposed to” want families, and if they don’t, we assume they will eventually change their minds. …

Miranda on the beach, looking towards a waning sunset in California
Miranda on the beach, looking towards a waning sunset in California
Miranda on the beach in California (Synch Media)

She was probably the most innocent person in the room. And that’s funny, I guess, because she was so incredibly book smart.

She studied voraciously and made so many plans. She kept checklists and spreadsheets. She was teacher’s pet in a class that kept no grades.

She believed in the power of hope, but she felt that real change came from will. When she saw those blue lines on her very first try, she thought about statistics, and maybe about luck, but mostly, her future seemed inevitable.

She had done all the reading. She spent her first appointment nodding her…

Miranda holding her shoulders and looking out on a gloomy afternoon
Miranda holding her shoulders and looking out on a gloomy afternoon
(Synch Media)

I’m not actively suicidal. I used to be.

Today, I’m “just” sad.

I go about the tasks of my day. I shower. I do laundry. I go to school; I am top of my class. I told all this to a friend. She reminded me that Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain were pretty badass as well.

I’m not actively suicidal.

I tell people I’m unhappy.

“What do you have to be unhappy about?”

I tell people I’m sad.

They ask if I’m in therapy.

I tell people I’m lonely.

They tell me I should get a hobby.

I wish it…

Miranda Hernandez | Adrian’s Mother

Writer; Mother; Everything in Between

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