She knelt in front of the toilet, like I used to do in church. Kneeling before the votives, I?d light a candle with an offering and a prayer. Right now, I was praying for my daughter, asking to take away the pain she held from my relationship with her dad?the kind that went straight to her tummy.
Her father and I were getting divorced, and the angst leading up to it lived inside her gut.

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How to tell kids about divorce: An age-by-age guide Though I hadn?t actually told her yet, my daughter got wind of what was going on, taking cues from my behaviour. Far too often, she would witness the slamming of cabinets, the sobbing into pillows and the foggy brain that had trouble concentrating on anything. For her, it came in the form of stomach aches?ones that gripped her so badly, her little body shook. She was almost seven then, and the angst I was feeling became hers. I spent nights with her leaning over the toilet, with pain that made her think she needed to throw up. She had taken on my grief, and no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to vomit it out.
My husband left four months after I got sober. He needed space from this dramatic change I?d made. We were drinking buddies, and my quitting made things uncomfortable for him. Attending m...