Tamar Saperstein

I was the last generation fortunate enough to have personally known survivors of the Holocaust.

I was haggard, exhausted, and feeling hopeless. "When are my kids ever going to be normal?" I felt deep down it would never happen.

When I was first married, I found myself constantly suffering from painful and awful vaginal and urinary tract infections. The doctor prescribed the same regimen of antibiotics for each type of infection. I’d heartily suffer through the weeklong course of medication, awaiting my pain and itch-free days to come, as the antibiotics worked their magic.

There was no reason why I should have miscarried, or so I thought. I found a thousand reasons to blame myself. Had I gotten enough rest? Was I getting enough nutrition? As my mind searched for answers and concocted a thousand reasons as to why this happened to me, I started to slowly fall into a depression.