About me

I help spiritually curious Christian women find language, meaning, and spiritual grounding in motherhood and loss.

I’ve always been pulled to the places where our theology is forced to reckon with our real lives: in all their grittiness and beauty, their wild joy and pain. I wasn’t raised religiously, but I was drawn to faith by my love of story. Growing up in an immigrant family in the US, I heard references to the Bible in the news, pop culture, and friends’ homes. I grew curious about this weird collection of stories and sayings, which I knew had been passed down for thousands of years—retold over campfires and whispered to children as they fell asleep. When I brought that curiosity to the Bible, I found not a tidy collection of explanations for suffering, but instead a holy and wild tapestry of the human experience: grief and love, our messy humanity, and the need to make meaning from even the most confusing, painful parts of our lives. In time, I grew to know the God of those scriptures, and was confirmed in the church.

As a graduate of Wellesley College, Oxford University, and Princeton Theological Seminary, my theology was shaped not only in the classroom but in the darkest places of my own life. Years of infertility, three traumatic pregnancy losses, and a brain tumor diagnosis forced me to reckon with what I actually believed about a God who claimed to love me. I didn't come out the other side with cleaner answers. Instead, I emerged with a faith big enough to hold the questions.

I now work as a perinatal chaplain at Wild Honey Perinatal, am a certified Birth and Bereavement Doula, and bring to my practice a tradition of feminist theology that takes women's embodied experience not as a footnote to faith but as a primary site of revelation. I write at Sara Laughed, a faith and motherhood blog with 5,000 monthly readers, and am currently at work on my first nonfiction book, a theological memoir about pregnancy loss, motherhood after grief, and the God who meets us there.

I live in New Jersey with my husband and daughter, whose arrival, after everything, still feels like grace.