Shannon
Layne

A little over a month ago I had emergency surgery to treat an ectopic pregnancy.  It was scary and painful and unexpected and I am still recovering physically and emotionally.

This November, my wife and I checked off a depressing anniversary: one year of trying for a baby.

If you haven’t seen Netflix’s new show Bridgerton, based on the books by Julia Quinn, please give me the address to the rock you’re living under so I can move there too and avoid the news, and then stop reading this and go watch it.

As someone who holds a lot of sentimental value wrapped in familial guilt for the holiday season, Christmas movies are a staple in my household during this time of year.

What a night.

Well, I just looked up from doomscrolling Twitter, and apparently it’s fall now?

We have to stop treating oral sex on women as only foreplay.

Gender reveals: a party to reveal your kids’ junk while they’re still unborn.

I remember exactly where I was the day that the Supreme Court landmark ruling of Obergefell v.

No one who knows me would call me a traditional person.

When the situation with COVID-19 first started unfolding, I reacted the same way a lot of people did: with a combination of anxiety, concern, and an instinct to comfort myself.

I get it, I get it.

Is it just me, or is 2020 giving a whole new meaning to the entire concept of anxiety?

Moving in together is a pretty tantalizing carrot, especially in this economy: splitting rent, sharing groceries, plus easier access to your boyfriend's adorable rescue dog who now takes up 75% of your Instagram?

So you’re seeing someone.

Preparing to go wedding dress shopping is like having sex for the first time: you can read a million articles online and listen to all your friends talk about it, but there’s a good chance the real thing is still going to be nothing at all like what you expected.  I thought I had done truly everything to ensure a successful shopping trip when I went searching before my wedding.

So, you had one too many drinks at happy hour and slipped and fell into a guy friend’s bed like the two of you were the stars of a low-budget rom-com.