The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

echo in my head like a taunt.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

The Breaking Point

Sophie was born three years into our marriage.

Derek was supportive, in his way. He went to appointments. He painted the crib. He talked to our daughter through my skin.

But his love came with edges.

“Are you sure you want to eat that? You don’t want too much to lose after the baby.continue reading …