I didn’t want to love him. Five months into my pregnancy, I stared at the shadowy image that appeared on the ultrasound screen—a tiny baby boy who my obstetrician predicted would …
For the first time in my life, I prayed for a miracle.
What I understand now is that accepting how little control I have means leaving my heart wide open at all times.
In my worst moments as a mother, the moments where I am cursing my family or getting angry about how much I have to do, I often experience this extreme moment of panic.
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