I was starting to like 2020. After a slow start, a major change of plans because of coronavirus, a long and difficult lockdown, I felt that my family and I had taken all the possible steps to be better prepared for what was to come
I’ve been breastfeeding every day for the past 20 months, since my son Lorenzo was born, for many hours a day. So you’d assume that I’d already done all the necessary thinking around this very foundational experience: after all, human milk is the first food we
Breastfeeding is misunderstood. It may be natural, but that does not make it easy, spontaneous or free. If we want to make policies that respect breastfeeding, we can start by debunking these six myths.
*Warning: This newsletter is about stillbirths, miscarriages and abortion. If you’ve experienced them and find this issue triggering, maybe skip it, and check out this website for some extra resources. It’s hard to imagine death when you think of the beginning of life. It seems cruel,
“mamma mamma mamma mamá” On repeat and growingly dramatic. This is what my son Lorenzo does to get my attention these days, or how he looks for me when he suspects I’m hiding away in the house and working. It’s not dissimilar from this Family
I’ve just come back from a trip to Gethen – a cold place, with beautiful glaciers and a society of people that are devoid of sex and gender for most of the time. They are simply *people*, undefined by what they have in between their legs
We’re turning one year old tomorrow on 30 September! My journey as your First 1,000 Days correspondent started out way before The Correspondent was even a reality. For years, I dreamed about writing about how unequal our life is from the very start, and even
The boy was two years old when his mother disappeared from his life. Struggling to recover from the birth of a younger son, she constantly went in and out of hospital. Without her, the boy relied on his eldest sister, 12 at the time, who
Tzitzitzitzitzitzi Tzi Tzi Tzi Tzi Tzi Tzi The continuous sound of cicadas invades my ears. It goes on and on. All day long. And even at night, when the full moon tricks the cicadas into thinking it’s daylight. In Greek a cicada is called tzitzikas
The truth of today’s newsletter is that I was writing about someone dear to me who died last month. But then I stopped because life got in the way. First, the Beirut blast. For a month now, my family and I have been living in
In a time that now seems incredibly far away, a time that my colleague OluTimehin Adegbeye calls 2020 BC (before corona), I co-hosted a meet-up with members of The Correspondent in Buenos Aires, Argentina. It was February, and little did I know that it would be
I’m writing this in my head as I breastfeed my son to sleep – hoping that I will remember these words once I’m done. Breastfeeding has become a part of my everyday life since Lorenzo was born 17 months ago. It has caused pain, insecurity, frustration,
From added insulation on cold days to extra antibodies during illness, breast milk is customised for every baby. If science will just tell us how, we could argue less about formula and breast pumps.
A few nights ago, my son Lorenzo woke up in the middle of the night. He stood up in bed and started making sounds that referred to some of the experiences he’d had during the day. Miaow, miaow, he said, recalling a cat that had
I’ve been thinking a lot about food these days. Food in liquid form, such as breast milk, the magic potion our bodies create to feed our children, but also food in a figurative sense; the hugs, love and overall nurture babies need at the beginning