Tag Archives: pregnancy loss

My Plan to Reduce Toxic Masculinity and Improve Women’s Health

I turned to my husband one evening recently in tears. It wasn’t about any one thing in particular. Rather, I was crying about ALL the things afflicting women over the last few years. To name a few:

      • increased rates of domestic violence
      • declining rates of women in the workplace following the pandemic combined with overall lower pay
      • the formula shortage and lack of support for women to breastfeed at work
      • the overturning of Roe v. Wade and all the ramifications that ruling has for women’s reproductive health at large, and more.

The overwhelm of it all combined with my postpartum fatigue to push me past my limit.

Tears began to flow as anxiety and fear for my infant daughter’s future reached a peak.  I remember saying to my husband something along the lines of “It’s not right! None of this is okay! I’m SO sick of this – not just for me but for every woman out there, especially the ones who aren’t even aware that these issues WILL touch their lives at some point.”

After I spoke the words out loud it dawned on me that all of these issues are connected to unfair gender stereotypes, female oppression, and toxic masculinity. Toxic masculinity is defined as “cultural norms associated with men that are harmful to society and to men themselves.”

The traits of toxic masculinity include:

      • mental and physical toughness
      • aggression
      • stoicism, or not displaying emotion
      • discrimination against people who aren’t heterosexual
      • self-sufficiency
      • emotional insensitivity

Please allow me to share my experiences and explain why toxic masculinity affects each of the aforementioned issues that harm women’s wellness…

 

 

Domestic Violence

I first learned about domestic violence at the beginning of high school through a program that educated youth about which peer-to-peer actions fall under sexual harassment, sexual assault, and rape. The group performed a series of short skits to demonstrate real life scenarios and how to handle them from both a male and female perspective. The education was of the utmost importance and, unfortunately, it was already delivered too late.

Throughout middle school I can recall countless instances of being between 11-13 years old and verbally harassed or physically assaulted through unwelcome and inappropriate touches from ignorant boys my own age and grown men. Back in the 1990s when toxic masculinity was arguably at its peak (later leading to the #metoo movement), I was convinced that such actions were uncomfortable forms of flattery and used them to boost my body image confidence. This was an incredibly sad and unhealthy coping mechanism because I didn’t know what else to do.

Shortly after watching the program in high school I signed up to join the group of teens advocating for awareness and action to prevent sexual violence of all kinds. Alongside a few other teens who happened to share my comfort with public speaking, we petitioned the school board to have a modified version of education about sexual violence presented in middle schools. I’m pleased to say that the motion passed.

Unfortunately, programs like the one I was exposed to are few and far between. Leaders I’ve worked with in Washington, DC continue to be swamped with women coming to their non-profits looking for help to escape violent and dangerous situations. These unhealthy relationships create power dynamics and abuse that affect women’s individual and collective wellness, and the future mental and physical health of any children involved.

Trauma is generational and women who suffer abuse under toxic masculinity are more stressed during pregnancy when abuse typically heightens and are at increased risk for poor health outcomes for the fetus. These women are sometimes less able to offer healthy emotional attachment patterns for babies in the first 18 months of life to no fault of their own, leading to long-term mental health and self-image repercussions into adulthood for those children.

One of the keys to getting women out from under the control of abusive partners is to help promote their financial independence so that they can afford to step away from the situation. Despairingly, women’s workforce participation has taken a dramatic downturn due to the pandemic. Coupled with the abysmal gender wage gap, this is a health and wellness crisis that many women are suffering through as we speak.

 

 

Lower Workforce Participation and Wages

Women have been leaving the workplace in scores since the beginning of the pandemic due to increased workload on the job combined with family demands. The pressure on women to perform in both the work and home sectors but with minimal support, lower wages than men, and gender discrimination is abominable.

A lack of work-life balance has resulted in a depressing four in five women reporting that their employers don’t help them create clear boundaries between work and personal time, especially amid the unusual circumstances of the Covid-19 pandemic. Not surprisingly, less than half of women in the workforce are happy about their job situation.

What does toxic masculinity have to do with women in the work force? Just about everything…

Not only does gender discrimination result in lower wages but according to survey data from Deloitte, the majority of working women have experienced “non-inclusive behaviors in work situations over the past year—everything from unwanted physical contact and disparaging remarks about their gender to questions about their judgment.”

I can’t think of anything as toxic as a workplace that suffocates the positive attributes and unique needs that come with being a woman. Men who are domineering seem to forget where the debt of gratitude is owed and whose body shaped their own for nine months. Unfortunately, this lack of respect for all that women do results in poor workplace support for maternity leave, childcare needs, flexible scheduling, breastfeeding/pumping while being a working mother, and more.

 

 

The Formula Shortage and Breastfeeding Hurdles

It pained me to see the effects of toxic masculinity affecting women in the initial days and weeks following the overturning of Roe v. Wade. All the heated debates about women’s bodies and potential future children have been happening parallel to a formula shortage crisis. The women who can least afford to move forward with unplanned pregnancies are also in a position to struggle to pay for nutrition for their babies if they are unable to breastfeed.

Breastfeeding itself is a full-time job and many working mothers understandably struggle to manage its demands alongside their jobs. I understand this firsthand because I gave up some career pursuits years ago when I realized I couldn’t breastfeed and start a business I had planned. It was simply too much for me. I was in a place of privilege where I could afford to step away from the workplace to be with my baby. Many moms can’t afford to lose their income or wouldn’t wish to step away from their careers for a period of time. For these moms, supportive workplaces that allow flexibility and space for nursing/pumping are essential.

The injustice hit me when not only Roe v. Wade was overturned but also a law to protect the breastfeeding/pumping needs of 9 million working moms was shot down by Senate. Did they not get the memo that there is a formula shortage? Do they not know how biology works for nourishing offspring? Do they really think failing to pass a helpful law will enhance women’s workplace commitment and productivity?

I’m left shaking my head.

I’m a breastfeeding mom and woman who has experienced two pregnancy losses and five pregnancies. I can’t help but feel like women just like me are under direct attack by our leaders – and for what? For going through the trials of doing our best to bring healthy little people into this world. It’s absolutely dumbfounding.

The emotional insensitivity and use of power to harm women and children’s health outcomes without question falls under the umbrella of toxic masculinity. The reality of life is that women and children need social support in a myriad of ways that the toxic masculinity mindset of rugged individualism and self-sufficiency fails to meet.

 

 

Women’s Reproductive Health

I learned firsthand what happens when you think you know how your life will play out and usually, reality goes a different way. I was pregnant with my third son when I got a poor prenatal diagnosis at the inception of the pandemic. I openly confess that I was unsure whether I should continue or end my pregnancy.

At the time I had two beautiful sons and had experienced an early pregnancy loss too. I never imagined considering a pregnancy termination but it weighed heavily on me before I lost my child. I wanted to do anything possible to protect my child from pain and suffering. I loved (and still love) the son I lost with all my heart.

With Roe v. Wade overturned I’m horror stricken over the pregnancies that will be forced to term despite being incompatible with life or a myriad of other complications that will result in suffering for the baby and a heightened risk of medical complications for the mom.

As many news sources have cited, the overturning of Roe v. Wade will affect training for medical professionals for both abortions and routine pregnancy losses, enhancing the risk of poor outcomes for women to come. I also lament this reality because during my late pregnancy loss removal I unexpectedly hemorrhaged and was minutes away from my uterus being removed to save my life. If I had been anywhere but a hospital then I likely would have died but instead, I have a four-inch scar on my stomach and a beautiful baby girl.

My story is hard and complicated but it sheds light on the many ways that reproductive choices and care are delicate and nuanced. Most importantly, they are best left between a woman, her medical team, and her faith.

I can’t help but see the ways that Christian nationalism and the rise of toxic masculinity within it has shaped a movement that has its jaws deeply embedded in our messed up, increasingly polarized political and legal systems. Toxic masculinity is behind the cherry picking of biblical texts used out of context to force women into submission, sexual abuse, and inferior roles, and it’s behind the inflexible thinking about reproductive rights that opts for power, control and force instead of compassion, assistance, and mercy.

There are “Godly men” out there saying that women who end their pregnancies should be sentenced to death. I’ve watched the videos of these men defiantly and angrily saying such things. They don’t care that their words alone do great damage to women’s wellness.

These men haven’t sat with an open heart and listened to the complicated stories from women who have endured hardships during years of TTC, being pregnant, enduring loss, and more. These men haven’t seen my tears, heard my sobs, or understood my torment. And they don’t care.

Theirs is a world to be conquered and women to be tamed.

 

 

My Plan to Reduce Toxic Masculinity

My feelings of helplessness kept increasing this summer as one assault after the next against women’s health took its turn. I can’t personally reduce unwanted pregnancies through violent rapes or end domestic violence from behind closed doors. I can’t reach into millions of women’s homes and help them navigate the early days of breastfeeding that are so crucial. I can’t afford to buy formula to help each and every mom in need of her next can. There are so many things I want to do on a grand scale and yet only small steps that I can reasonably take like listening with compassion to women’s abortion stories or donating modest amounts of money to help feed children in need. These small things matter but still leave me yearning for something more that I can do.

Until recently, it didn’t occur to me that there is in fact one HUGE thing I can do…

I can raise my sons well.

I can focus my energy on raising sons who are allowed to be sensitive and who are in touch with their emotions. Sons that grow into men who demonstrate compassion and respect for women as equals. Men who know their own strength but never use it to harm or intimidate others. Men who treat their partners with care. Who approach society and bettering the world with a collective mindset. If these attributes are increasingly displayed through more and more men in the future then they have the power to dismantle oppressive hierarchies and give birth to redemptive healing.

The future of women’s wellness rests on the innocent shoulders of one small boy at a time. It relies on them having safe caregiver attachment relationships. It depends on how they are treated and nurtured through the choppy waters of their emotions and learning how to cope with them. It hinges on them having a healthy sense of worth without arrogance. It needs them to accept and embrace the diverse world we live in and to humbly pause when they feel offended that others don’t agree with their perspectives.

My two sweet sons rely on my patience, energy and effort as their mother. I’m far from perfect but I believe that if I stay mindful and raise them well then those two sets of dark brown eyes looking up at me for guidance will some day look out into a world that is better for their mother, sister, wives, daughters, and friends. That world will undoubtedly be better for men too.

If you believe in collective prayer then I ask you to pray for this future with me.

 

Yours in health and wellness,

Maggie

 

Pregnancy After Loss Is…

I’m approximately halfway through my 5th pregnancy and hope that it will be my 3rd healthy live birth. Having suffered two losses before, I’m quite familiar with pregnancy after loss and the many complicated emotions that accompany it.

I’ve become more entrenched in the pregnancy loss community since losing my 3rd son in the second trimester following a poor prenatal diagnosis a year ago. This community has shown me that I’m far from alone despite the often secretive nature of pregnancy loss. If you want to hear more about my losses and medical complications feel free to read one of my three articles:

Glimmers of Joy Amid Grief, Loss and Loneliness

My Emergency C-section Recovery

Trauma Recovery and Mental Health Support for Mothers

…or watch a more detailed video version of this post: 

My desire in sharing the many aspects of pregnancy after loss (below) is twofold: 1) Help women during pregnancy after loss to see that they aren’t alone in their feelings and experience, and 2) Educate people who have never walked this path or who are trying to understand what a friend or loved one might be going through in the face of loss or pregnancy following loss.

WARNING: The following content is triggering. If you find yourself in a vulnerable place and aren’t sure if you’re ready to dive into tough emotions and realities then please save this article or the video on Instagram to watch later. That said, if you need a good cry, to feel less alone, or to better understand this difficult road then please read on…

Pregnancy After Loss Is…

Pregnancy after loss is…feeling fear and joy at the same time

Pregnancy after loss is…numbing yourself to all emotions because they feel too big

Pregnancy after loss is…having a hard time letting yourself relax and be happy

Pregnancy after loss is…holding your breath every time you use the bathroom because you’re worried you will see blood in the toilet or when you wipe

Pregnancy after loss is…feeling like you will finally be at peace when you reach a certain milestone or scan only to find that the relief from good news is fleeting, and the fear rears its ugly head once again before you’ve even left the parking lot

Pregnancy after loss is…thinking about the baby you lost just as much if not more than the baby in your womb

Pregnancy after loss is…wondering if you’ll start telling people you are expecting only to have to tell them you’re not

Pregnancy after loss is…wondering if this time you will get to hold your child and plan for their future

Pregnancy after loss is…knowing all too well that a positive pregnancy test doesn’t guarantee a baby

Pregnancy after loss is…grieving the child you lost every step of the way

Pregnancy after loss is…feeling alone

Pregnancy after loss is…holding onto misplaced guilt, shame and self-doubt

Pregnancy after loss is…seeing other women who are pregnant too and feeling a stab of jealousy because you think their experience must be easier than yours

Pregnancy after loss is…seeing women with multiple children or closely spaced pregnancies and feeling overwhelming grief

Pregnancy after loss is…wondering if you will ever have a child of your own

Pregnancy after loss is…wondering if this will be your last pregnancy and it will end poorly

Pregnancy after loss is…wondering if you have the strength to go through it all again

Pregnancy after loss is…having the most incredible courage because you’re willingly going through something that feels terrifying and putting yourself back into a narrative familiar with trauma and loss

Pregnancy after loss is…knowing way more about what can go wrong than you ever wanted to

Pregnancy after loss is…being scared of a poor prenatal diagnosis

Pregnancy after loss is…feeling that others don’t understand you

Pregnancy after loss is…worrying that your next ultrasound will show that the baby’s heart has stopped beating or that they aren’t growing as expected

Pregnancy after loss is…fearing that you will be faced with an unthinkable choice to end your pregnancy in order to save your baby from suffering

Pregnancy after loss is…feeling judged for things that are out of your control

Pregnancy after loss is…connecting with women who have walked the same path and share their stories in secret, out of sight from a world that simply doesn’t understand

Pregnancy after loss is…former milestones, due dates and anniversaries that bring some measure of sadness and reflection both during the pregnancy and for years to come

Pregnancy after loss is…filled with hypervigilance, constantly scanning for what might go wrong

Pregnancy after loss is…nervously counting kicks and fearing stillbirth

Pregnancy after loss is…being told “at least you know the baby wasn’t going to be healthy”

Pregnancy after loss is…being told “at least you already have children”

Pregnancy after loss is…being told “at least it happened early in the pregnancy”

Pregnancy after loss is…being told “everything happens for a reason”

Pregnancy after loss is…being told “God just wanted another angel in heaven”

Pregnancy after loss is…being told “time will heal all pain”

Pregnancy after loss is…understanding the grim but powerful reality that women’s bodies are capable of delivering both life and death

Pregnancy after loss is…wanting to celebrate with loved ones while feeling guilty for times when it was hard being happy for friends who were expecting during or after your loss

Pregnancy after loss is…experiencing emotional, physical and spiritual exhaustion

Pregnancy after loss is…reliving flashbacks of traumatic moments from your loss

Pregnancy after loss is…wondering if you will get to the second trimester or even over halfway through your pregnancy only to experience loss, decisions on how to deliver your baby, and an empty womb that looks as though it should still be carrying life inside it

Pregnancy after loss is…realizing how little people understand how to care for others in grief

Pregnancy after loss is…worrying about a crash-landing during labor and delivery or a C-section

Pregnancy after loss is…feeling guilty when you stop thinking about the baby you lost

Pregnancy after loss is…feeling like you don’t deserve to feel the happiness that’s building for the child you’re expecting

Pregnancy after loss is…full of hope and love unlike you’ve ever experienced

Pregnancy after loss is…different for every woman

You’re not alone. Resources and people exist who can support you with your wellness during this pregnancy. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me directly to ask questions, get referrals, or share your story in private. Sending you big hugs and compassion.

Yours in health and wellness,

Maggie

My Emergency C-Section Recovery

Some of you already know that I experienced an emergency back in October when we lost and said goodbye to our third son at roughly 4 months gestation. When I went in for a routine D&E I experienced extremely rare complications and one of my uterine arteries ruptured causing excessive blood loss, several blood transfusions and emergency surgery intervention. For more about that experience and what I discovered in the wake of loss and grief, you can read here.

My first two sons were born vaginally and I had relatively easy recoveries. Even though I was only 4 months pregnant this time, an emergency C-section (with a vertical incision) to save my life was both shocking and traumatic. I struggled for months to recover, both physically and mentally, and only now at 3 months “postpartum,” if you would even call it that, I’m feeling a little more like myself.

I have a long way still to go in the healing process but I’ve learned some things along the way that I’d like to share with you since I’m a health professional obsessed with all aspects of the wellness journey. Whether you’re simply curious about my experience or have had (or anticipate having) a C-section, this video is for you…

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” – Kahlil Gibran

Yours in health and wellness,

Maggie

Glimmers of Joy Amid Grief, Loss and Loneliness

I’ve been quiet on the blog and social media for the last month or so – and for good reason. Starting in mid-September, my husband and I started to get some bad news about the prognosis for our third son’s health and pregnancy outcome. We were devastated thinking about a child being born into a life of pain and suffering, and at the same time, we were mortified of losing him prematurely.

My body had been sending me signals that something was very “off” throughout this pregnancy and I feared for the worst. When I found out it was another boy (I have two sons already), my gut instinctively pulled hard: This little one is not okay. I could feel this truth deep down.

Sure, every pregnancy is different. I was told this countless times. “But this feels really different,” I kept repeating to friends and family, at a loss of what else to say.

As a health professional, who is very in tune with her body, I knew this time was wildly different from both of my other pregnancies. I couldn’t take a deep breath, my lungs struggling against some intangible resistance, and I couldn’t read bedtime stories without my heart racing. Every time I climbed the stairs in our home to retrieve a child from naptime or to help with brushing teeth, I would gasp for air.

In all of my adult life, I’ve never been sidelined from exercise. Not after having either of my other sons and not after being hit by a car. At these crossroads, I carefully scaled back my fitness efforts, focused on reducing inflammation, and moved my body through gentle, therapeutic exercises. During this pregnancy though, I could barely do anything. I felt crippled and perpetually exhausted, like life itself was invisibly seeping out from my pores, escaping me.

I told myself it’s all worth it for a healthy baby.

But…what happens when we don’t get our happy ending? What happens when our plans become undone? Or worse yet, what becomes of us when loss and grief strike with the force of a wrecking ball to the jaw?

 

 

That’s where I landed this pregnancy: At the pit of loss. The valley of the shadow of death. The mysterious somewhere between here and there, the intersection of heaven and earth, the place of struggle between shattered dreams and hope. The great purgatory of life where, at our worst moments, we must find the strength to pull ourselves up and out, despite being exhausted to our bones and filled inside with the stuff of nightmares.

I had already experienced loss with a former pregnancy that took place before the conception and birth of my second son. That miscarriage filled me with sadness and dashed hope, but I managed to put myself back together rather quickly, all things considered, and was soon thereafter filled with a complicated mixture of excitement and anxiety when I became pregnant again.

The impending nature of this loss felt different given what we had learned. It felt anticipated, agonized over, feared, and maybe, if I’m being completely honest, like something that might be the safest thing to happen to our child. This impending loss held implications that our child might not have to suffer from complicated surgeries after being born with a slim chance of survival. It would mean that his big brothers would never shed tears and sob into their parents’ arms about something so traumatic that their little-big hearts would strain to understand while simultaneously feeling it deeply. No parent ever wishes to lose a child. When we found out that we had lost our sweet Jake, we broke apart.

 

 

We prayed over our son’s loss with a chaplain at the hospital before surgery. Funeral arrangements were already in place. We felt a sense of peace in the middle of this loss, strange peace, the variety of which only comes from a greater power in the universe. Leading with a spiritual mindset, I prayed and said one last goodbye to my son as my vision went black on the surgery table.

When I woke up, I saw that the clock on the wall was showing a time that was alarmingly late in the day. I expected to wake up nearly four hours earlier than those glaring, sharp red numbers indicated.

What happened? This isn’t right, I recall thinking.

And I assumed correct: Things were definitively not right. 

While still in an anesthesia fog, the surgeon explained to me that I had experienced rare and unexpected medical complications during what is otherwise a routine and short surgery. Although the medical team thought that everything had gone smoothly, I began to bleed excessively. The doctors tried to find the source of bleeding but faced the grim truth that the bleeding was internal and the only way to get it under control was through emergency abdominal surgery. 

My throat felt tight and dry from being intubated as I regained consciousness and blinked at those red clock numbers. I groggily repeated the same questions over and over again to the surgeon, trying to grasp the reality of what had just happened. The doctor kept explaining to me that an artery and one of my fallopian tubes had ruptured and that I now had stitches from my naval to pelvis, both internal and external. As I looked down at my body I noticed large needles secured into veins on both hands from blood transfusions.

Minutes away from a hysterectomy, they said, but thankfully it was averted at last minute. 

Almost a hysterectomy? Potentially life-threatening blood loss? Emergency open surgery? My mind was in a panic. I tried to sit up straight in the recovery room only to be pulled backwards onto the hospital bed with the unbelievable force of a thunderous headache. 

The complications were so much for me to mentally and emotionally process that I briefly forgot about the grief we had been feeling. When it finally resurfaced, I felt like I might not be able to breathe. It felt like my entire life was ending and beginning, all at once.

My recovery nurse at the hospital said, “We’re going to take it one hour at a time, sweetie. Today is your day one.” And somehow, that’s exactly what it felt like. I was no longer the same woman – not emotionally, physically or even spiritually. I had been stripped down and given the chance to rebuild myself from the deepest parts of grief and loss.   

The rebuilding part is all very fresh and new…and painful. But, as an eternal optimist, I know that I will find a way to rise up from this, bearing in mind what I have learned through the years about the intricate web of wellness and how it steers the healing process. Although it’s a long story, and one I’m not ready to share in detail, there was a period of time both right before and after the surgery when I felt so much connection with the universe; with God; with a higher power calling me to lean into faith and trust. 

I can’t say with any measure of confidence that every bad thing that happens in life has profound meaning or a silver lining. I don’t believe that rock solid faith equates to good outcomes for a person. Sometimes, bad things simply happen to good people and there’s no sense or reason to it. Lives can be derailed and sometimes tragically never get back on the tracks.

But when the busy and self-centered nature of our lives fades to the background, and when all the noise is just so…noisy…that suddenly it sounds far off in the distance…in that place of great tragedy, I have felt that there is a hidden presence. A great comforter. Something – or someone – that is there, despite all logic and denial. And it is enough.   

“How is it enough?” You might ask. 

I can’t claim to have the explanation. It’s something that is simply felt; a raw and honest truth that is born from deep within, whispering to us that we are beautiful. We are loved. We are safe.

Contrary to logic, my husband and I have also felt glimmers of joy in the middle of this season of suffering… Not because we wanted to lose a child or felt relieved of all grief because he would never experience pain. Joy doesn’t come from those horrors… 

 

 

True, unbridled, unexpected joy openly presented itself to us through the love and compassion that we received from those who walked through this tragedy with us.

Thanks to loved ones checking on us, we felt glimmers of hope on the other side of exhausting, anxiety-riddled nights spent tossing and turning in our beds, awaiting whatever the future might hold. Friends who sent thoughtful gifts and messages of support from far and near helped us feel a little less lonely and scared while we sat at the doorstep of loss in the midst of an already-very-lonely pandemic. Because of social distancing no one ever stepped into my kitchen to hug me tightly while I cried, but it felt like they did, just the same. The love was so palpable and tender. So near.

Genuine compassion is rare…and we recognized in the middle of our deepest hurt that what we were receiving from others was one of the truest gifts possible in this short life of ours. For this, we are eternally grateful. Not everyone experiencing grief and loss has a solid support system. I know there are many lonely, hurting people out there in the world. To all of these people, and in particular, to women walking through an unexpected season of child loss from any reason – miscarriage, stillbirth, ending a wanted pregnancy, infant loss, or the death of a child at any age, young or old, I hope you know that a hidden presence exists near your suffering. You’re never truly alone.  

 

 

I’m battling fatigue from all this trauma alongside feelings of anxiety and grief every time that I catch a glimpse of the newly-forming scar in the center of my stomach. I know that there is a lot of work to do; physically to recover, mentally to become whole again, and spiritually to persevere and allow my scar to slowly…somehow…become beautiful. Today, my healing incision serves as a reminder of one of the hardest times of my life. It’s easy to resent the sight of it. But, as one who has recovered from trauma before, I know that pain can become beautiful. It’s peculiar how life can happen like that. And I know that wellness of all kinds is necessary for facilitating the metamorphosis. 

So, off I crawl…

Off I fly.

 

“Wounds don’t heal the way you want them to, they heal the way they need to. It takes time for wounds to fade into scars. It takes time for the process of healing to take place. Give yourself that time. Give yourself that grace. Be gentle with your wounds. Be gentle with your heart. You deserve to heal.” -Dele Olanubi

 

Yours in health and wellness,

Maggie