I’ve never quite got over this feeling of anticipation ahead of a new baby. This contrasting emotion of devastation at their lot in life, their lack of choice, their lack of control; my overwhelming delight at our meeting. I often wonder how I'll ever ensure that each child grows knowing
I heave my giant belly off my lumpy mattress.It’s laid on the cold concrete floor, and it feels like I am attempting to reach the sky as I stand up. Careful not to wake the three sleeping bodies who remain, I eek my aching bones out of the cocoon of
I have your baby.I shouldn’t, but I do.Society praises me.While they vilify you.I have your baby, She’s here with me.Your arms are void, Mine filled with glee.I have your baby, It’s crazy but true.While I’m holding her, Who’s holding you?I have your baby,I rock her to sleep.She’s warm and she’s loved,While I know that
We ran dry of Novalac, a specialized formula, a few Saturdays ago. Not our best moment, but it happens. Each of us thinking the other had noted the stock levels, none of us actually taking note.There was no option but to head to the stores and get some. Ordinarily, I
My phone beeped. It was the social worker. An image popped through of a forlorn looking little boy with disheveled hair and desperately sad eyes shaped just like saucers. “Can you help’ the social worker had texted immediately after.“I know you’re only taking newborns but I don’t have a bed anywhere
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