Chasing My Own Mirror Ball

After making a career of finding whatever job paid the most while supporting my husband through medical school, I gave birth to our first son. Seven cities, three states, a second son, too many tropical fish to count and a dog later, I found myself, on one very dismal February morning, standing catatonically on the back porch of my suburban Atlanta home. A gentle breeze stirred the air and the sound of a fluttering plastic grocery bag, stuck in the branches of a leafless dogwood, caught my attention. That's me, I suddenly thought, a hollow, empty version of the me I used to be...

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