Are you a good mother? It’s a question that I’ve asked myself many times over the last 15 years, and the answer has changed more times than I’d like to admit.
It was just past seven on the morning of April 24th when the warm, wriggling body of my daughter was placed on my chest. A Monday; the start of a new week and the beginning of my life as a mother. Her waxy, wrinkled skin felt alien on my breast, and as she scrunched her eyes, adjusting to this new world of light and sound she squawked, loudly. The sound rattled down my spine, terrifying me to the very marrow of my bones.Read More