by columnist Gabrielle Harris, The Suburban Yogini When I was thirty I literally FELL pregnant. I was living in a small town in Greece teaching English and my partner was living in NZ. I liked to think of it as an immaculate conception but the Greek mamas liked to think of it differently, I was the spawn of the devil, unmarried and pregnant. My daughter was a gift, a message in a bottle, learning and a teaching all rolled into one big fat ball. Not that I knew any of that. Roll forward … [Read more...]