Rivka Nehorai is a painter and writer. Her visual work is showcased at rivka.gallery, and her bimonthly blogging can be found on Hevria. Rivka is also an outspoken activist for recovering artists, insisting that raw, redemptive art-making is the means for mental and spiritual health. She has two little ladies, who confuse, explain, and beautify everything. In that order.
This pregnancy, my body—not yet fully restored to optimal weight from the previous pregnancy two years earlier—was determined to stay in decent shape.
Searching the internet for recommended…prenatal yoga apps, I decided upon Brihony Smyth’s program, Beautiful Belly, which includes three classes for each trimester, and three postnatal classes with your new baby. It was hard. And boring. Running through my mind the first few times I tried it was, “I hate this.” But the key to any good habit is addiction. As… >> Read More
She practically squealed as she grabbed my hand. “Rivka, are you…pregnant?” I abruptly pushed her lovingly grasped hand away.
“Pregnant?!” I protested. “No!”
Being asked if…you’re pregnant (when not) in religious circles is difficult to swallow, because religious women usually don’t divulge their status until they are three months along, as the first three months are the most precarious times in which something could, God forbid, happen to the fetus. So if you’re asked, you probably look three months pregnant.… >> Read More
I have a conspiracy theory that as things started to get easier for mothers in recent history (read: dishwashers and being allowed to climb in the work world, two great inventions of our time), we…made up some extra things to make it super hard for mothers (read: making women feel like they should be able to juggle all of these roles at once without extra help, and convincing women that their babies would be traumatized if they cried at all without their mama around to reassure them). >> Read More
Around my neck, for years, I wore a gold heart-shaped locket. Instead of a traditional photograph of a cherished friend, boyfriend, or family member, when opened, the locket had two words scrawled…in pen on each tiny side: "Reb Zusha" and "10 minutes." There's a Hasidic story of the great Reb Zusha of Anipol who was found crying profusely on his deathbed. "Why are you crying?" asked his disciples. "If God asks me why I wasn't like Moses or Maimonides," answered Reb Zusha, "I'll say, I wasn't blessed… >> Read More