Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
I am. Still.

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So, do you know, you know, about me now?

I am a woman whose daughter has died.
           I imagined a thousand different lives she could have lived.
           I imagined myself an old mother of two strong, beautiful women.
           I imagined our house happy.
           I imagined her smiling.
           I imagined her.

I am a woman whose daughter has died.
           I listen to the same depressing song over and over again.
           I paint maudlin pictures.
           I take long sobbing baths of water so hot I walk out red.
           I find comfort in wallowing.
           I wallow.

I am a woman whose daughter has died.
           I don't want to talk about the weather with you.
           I don't want to feel beautiful.
           I don't want to flirt.
           I don't want to smile to make you more comfortable.
           I don't want to comfort you.

I am a woman whose daughter has died.
           She never kissed an anxious boy in an orchard.
           She never kissed me.
           She never loved.
           She never breathed.
           She never.

I am a woman whose daughter has died.
I am a woman who had a daughter.
I am a woman now.
I am.


After the death of her second daughter, Angie M. Yingst began writing about grief, art, religion, and parenting at her blog still life with circles, chosen in 2010, as one of the top 50 Must-Read Mom Blogs by Parenting Magazine and Blogher. Angie is the editor and a regular contributor at Glow In The Woods, a website dedicated to writing by parents grieving the loss of one or more babies. Angie is also an accomplished artist and painter and sells her work at her Etsy shop, Angie Yingst Studios. She published a chapbook of her poetry called Of This, We Will Not Speak, and her essay “Mothering Grief” was published in the book They Were Still Born. She holds a B.A. in Religion from Temple University.


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