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Sarah Zadok

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My husband bought me a necklace for our 1st anniversary, and while I appreciate the gift very much, I don’t really like the necklace...
Keeping the faith in light of the heavier things
As a mother, I see myself as a gatekeeper of my children’s innocence. I do my best to protect them, body, mind, and soul. But life has a way of incessantly usurping my control over the content to which they are exposed...
I never imagined that such a reductive view of my life’s stuff could so aptly tell the story of us, but in many ways it does . . .
Reflecting on the Good Within Us and Each Other
We were given two eyes for two very different purposes; our left eye, to look at ourselves critically, and our right to look at others with kindness...
Barring any specific medical conditions, some good planning and some practical coping techniques will allow most women in a low-risk pregnancy to manage a twenty-five hour fast without any complications to the pregnancy or risk to their babies...
I am drama incarnate with fists balled, my silver hoop earrings, peasant skirt and leather cowboy boots. My stance is distant, almost defiant, like a dare, and I am crying. “As time goes by does it get more or less clear to you that we’re meant to be toge...
Pregnancy Through the Passover Lens
My nausea often renders me incapacitated for hours, even days on end, to which vomiting provides no lasting relief. My days are stained by actual or anticipated smells, and opening the refrigerator has become an act of bravery...
Chanukah Musings on Burnout, Fuzzy Slippers and Romance
G‑d in the day-in, day out is the G‑d I can relate to. Now that all the blockbuster holidays have passed, I feel like my soul is in a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers...
Whatever mood I find myself in, there is one aspect of this ritual that remains consistent: There is always a glaring life lesson reflected back to me from those crisp, cool waters. When I am receptive enough to allow that lesson to penetrate, then those ...
Lessons From My Forced Voice Rest
iFve weeks later—weeks of slow progress—my drill sergeant, eh hem, my speech therapist upped the ante and put me on a solid month of vocal rest, in an effort to reverse the damage I have inflicted on my pipes...
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