37 comments

Creative Nonfiction Inspirational Contemporary

December 2018


With her daughter nursing in her arms, Macy uses her elbow to push down on the door handle and open the door into the conference room, careful not to bump little Isla’s head as she does. Her diaper bag is slung over her shoulder, bouncing against her legs as she walks, and her daughter’s car seat is hooked around her other arm.



“You’re getting good at that,” says Elena, one of Macy’s closest friends at the mom group, clearly amused by Macy’s multi-tasking skills.



Macy nods a hello at her friend before settling into a spot on the floor next to her and her son, Max. “She slept in this morning, which was awesome, but we didn’t have time for a feed before we left.” Isla still in her arms, Macy reaches into her diaper bag and produces a small pink linen blanket. As she lies it down just inches from Max’s blanket – he is lying on this back, happily inspecting a ribbed ball in his hands – Macy leans over to him and offers a big smile. “Hi, Max,” she says, her voice going up an octave. “How are you, cutie pie?” Max returns the smile and kicks his feet up, touching the ball with his toes. Isla releases Macy’s breast at the sound of her mother’s rising voice, sees Max, and arches away from Macy. “Oh! You want to play with Max?” She sets Isla down upright facing Max. Her voice returning to regular pitch, she asks Elena, “And how’s your morning?”



Before Elena can answer, Cindy, the group leader, enters the room. “Sorry, sorry, I’m late!” Her smile beams from ear to ear as she waves her hands excitedly at all the woman and their infants who have formed a circle on the floor of Room 107. They all respond with a “Hi, Cindy!” She begins by reminding all of them to write their names on the sign-in sheet and points out the infant scale stationed on the counter for anyone who is interested in checking their child’s weight; then, she dives into some announcements about the optional, but encouraged, $5 donation for attending this mom group, and briefly touches on other seasonal charity opportunities that are in effect now that the holidays are among them.



Grabbing a chair from a stack in the corner of the room, she sets it down and takes a seat. “Now, that the administrative stuff is out of the way…welcome! If you’re new here, I’m Cindy. I’ve been a midwife for over 20 years, and a family therapist for over 10. I’ve been leading this group for 5 years now, and it is one of the things I look forward to most every week. This group is a safe space for all mothers going through their postpartum journey. We’ll go around the circle, and give everyone a chance to speak – if you so choose, though, we would all really like to hear from you. You’ll give us your name, your child’s name and age, and then you can tell us a little bit about what’s going on in your life right now. What’s going good, what’s not going good, or just whatever you want to share. We’re all here to listen and share ideas with each other, and just offer support however we can.” Cindy pauses a moment and looks around the room, making eye contact with several of the mothers, before landing on the woman closest to her on the left. “Hi. Would you like to start us off?”



The woman, who Macy guesses is in her mid-thirties, looks stunned and very obviously nervous. Her long black hair is tied in a loose, untidy ponytail, and she appears to still be wearing her pajamas. “Oh, um, okay, sure. Yeah. Um, I’m Bree, I’m new here. This is my first time at one of these things. My, uh, my doctor recommended it to me, so I’m just trying it –”



Bree is interrupted by a loud squeal from within the car seat next to her, and she jumps. Anxiously, she races to undo the straps and take her baby out, shh-ing her as she works.



Completely unphased, Cindy smiles and says, “And who is this little one?”



Bree is holding her baby against her shoulder now, patting its back, bouncing her body, and hushing, willing her baby to settle down. “Oh, uh, yeah, this is my daughter, Eris. She’s just two weeks old, and, um –“ This time, Bree is interrupted by her own tears. “I’m sorry, this is, this is just...this has just been, um, really hard for me, this whole mother thing, and, um, I don’t really know –” Eris screams louder, and Bree stops talking and sobs more between her shh-ing. She tries bouncing and swaying quicker. When that doesn’t work, she lies Eris down on her blanket and reaches for one of her toys, a soft crinkling cube with an elephant imprinted on it, and jingles it above her daughter. Eris quiets down, kicks her little legs. “Sorry,” is all Bree manages through her sniffling, clearly defeated.



The room of woman is nearly silent, except for small intermittent infant cooing and squealing. All of the moms are focused on Bree and Eris, without judgment. No one says anything, but the energy seems to offer Bree a hug, whispering: We know it’s hard. We’re here for you.



Bree sniffles some more, wiping her nose. When she realizes the room is waiting for her, she says, “We’re not really sleeping right now.” Heads around the room nod: every woman there knows what that is like. Bree continues, “My husband, he’s working for a start up, so he’s just not able to help out as much as I thought he would, so… it’s mostly me at night, right now…” She breaks down into an uncontrollable sob. The woman next to her offers a tissue. Bree takes it, blows her nose, and rubs a hand on her daughter’s belly, collecting herself. “This is just way harder than I ever thought it would be.”


*


When the meeting is over, Macy says goodbye to Elena and Max; she packs up Isla in her car seat and runs out into the parking lot.



“Bree! Bree! Wait up!”



Bree is slowly walking to her car, holding her car seat carefully in both hands, unlike Macy who has hers casually slung around her arm. She turns around and looks confused, as if she’s left something behind. “Uh, yeah?”



“Hey! Uh, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Macy, and this is my daughter, Isla,” she turns the car seat towards Bree; Isla giggles and kicks her feet. Bree smiles shyly. “Your daughter’s name is Eris, right? I miss when Isla was that little; they’re so precious at that age.” Bree nods, looking down at her sleeping infant daughter and laughs nervously, the way someone laughs when they get a compliment they don’t agree with. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I really related to what you said back there. The first few months of motherhood are really, really hard. There’s like some sort of learning curve to reading your baby that, for some reason, a lifetime of mothers have failed to make common knowledge. I can’t tell you how long it took me to realize that Isla was crying every time we were here just because she needed a nap. I always assumed she was hungry, but once I learned the difference between her hunger cues and her tired cues, things got a lot easier. And don’t even get me started on how long it took me to realize she had a dairy allergy – whew!” Macy laughs, trying to lighten the slightly awkward exchange.



Bree chuckles politely, but she looks exhausted and miserable. All she says is, “Yeah.”



“Look, I know 7 months seems like a world of difference between our two girls right now, but when they’re older, none of us will be able to tell the difference. So, let me give you my number, and if you want to get together for a play date sometime, or even just to talk or whatever…” Macy reaches down into her bag to grab out something to write on. Retrieving a crumpled-up flyer that’s been in her bag for who knows how long, she jots down her phone number and hands it to Bree. “Call me anytime. Seriously.”


***


May 2018


Macy buckles her daughter’s car seat straps and kisses her small forehead. “You ready, baby girl?”



Isla’s dark eyes look up at her, and Macy can’t help but think she looks confused. Does she even know what’s going on? The realization that she is entirely in charge of this small person’s life crashes down on her. She is supposed to be the one who is ready. She is the one who is supposed to know what’s going on.



Macy double checks her diaper bag to make sure she hasn’t forgotten anything. It is her first solo trip out of the house with her daughter, and she is anxious that she isn’t prepared enough. Her husband, Fisher, wraps his arms around her. “You’re going to be fine, Macy. It’s not like you’re going very far.”



She turns around and hugs him tightly, wishing he could attend the mom group, too. “I know,” she says.



He presses her away with his hands on her shoulders and says lovingly, “You need this. Now, go. It’s only an hour.”



Macy tries to avoid traffic by taking the back roads to the hospital where the meeting is held, but has no such luck. She’s sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic on a two lane road with nowhere to escape when Isla starts shrieking in her car seat.



Macy jumps. Anxiety as intoxicating as alcohol, Macy’s mind is assaulted with panic and worry: Is her car seat on wrong? Is she choking? Is she hungry? I just fed her, there’s no way she can be hungry again, right? Is she pooping? Does she have a rash?  “Oh, baby, what’s wrong? Don’t cry! Mama’s here, shhh, shhh, shhh!” She tries to reach a hand back behind her to make contact with her daughter, but her arm isn’t long enough. Isla begins screaming even louder.



Up ahead, there is a traffic light and a bank to the left of it. As soon as the cars move forward enough, Macy pulls into the parking lot and gets out of the car. She opens the door, eager to be face-to-face with her daughter. “It’s okay, baby, I’m here! What’s wrong? What do you need? What can I do?” As if her voice goes unnoticed, Isla’s face remains contorted by her sobbing distress. “Just tell me what you need. Boob? Diaper change? Is the seatbelt bugging you?” Macy pleads for some answers, but her infant gives her none. Just more screaming.



Macy’s anxiety skyrockets. Her hands race to undo the car seat buckles, aching to hold her daughter and make her better, even though she has no idea how to do that. She cradles her screeching child, and tries rocking her, mortified by the fact that she is doing this publicly for the first time, worrying that strangers will judge her as an unfit mother. She considers texting Fisher that she’s not going to the stupid mom group, but the very fear that is urging her to skip it is the exact reason why she needs to go.



I need to do this, she reminds herself. For Isla.



She decides it’s best she tests out some of her guesses since that’s all she has with a small human who can’t tell her what she needs. She opens up the back trunk of her car, and lay her daughter on her back, making Isla screech even louder. “I’m just going to check your diaper. It’s okay, baby. I’ll be quick.”



The diaper is dry. She zips her onesie back up. “Okay, so maybe you’re hungry?” Macy closes the trunk and opens up the cab of her car, taking a seat next to Isla’s car seat. Isla nurses for a few minutes before she releases. “Was that it? You were just hungry?” Isla’s eyes dart around the car, and Macy can’t help but think she’s scared. She hates the feeling that her daughter might be scared around her, but she also understands. I’m scared, too, baby girl.



Macy sets Isla back up in the car and gets back in traffic, determined to make it to this mom meeting. Isla cries more off and on as they drive, and so does Macy; she calls back to Isla, assuring her that she’s safe, but deep down, she feels like her words are empty, like Isla has no idea what she's saying. She keeps yelling, “Mama’s here! Mama’s here! I love you. You’re safe!” None of her attempts seem to help.



When Macy and Isla finally make it to the mom group, they’re late. In the parking lot, Macy considers calling it a victory just making it there, but now that Isla has quieted down, she decides it’s worth going in to catch the end of it.



In Room 107, there is a circle of woman sitting on the floor with their infants. When Macy walks in with Isla still in her car seat, everyone turns to look at them, offering weak but genuine smiles. There is a woman sitting on a chair in the front of the room who gestures to an empty gap in the circle, indicating a space for her to join them. Macy sets her car seat down, and internally curses at herself for forgetting her diaper bag in the car; she doesn’t have a blanket to lie flat, and she hopes and prays Isla won’t need a diaper change while they are there.



When the woman next to Macy finishes talking, Macy immediately feels the gaze of the entire room shift slightly onto her. It is a strange feeling to have silence so tangibly directed at her, and she can’t help but think everyone can sense her anxiety radiating out of her pounding chest.



“Uh, hi, I’m, uh, Macy. It’s my first time here,” she says, her voice immediately trembling. She feels her face and chest turning crimson. Isla stirs in her car seat, and just the sound of her brings everything rushing to the surface. Macy sobs with abandon. “I just wish she would stop crying. I just wish I knew what she wanted.”



***


July 2018


Macy looks at the text from her husband: Going to the mom group today?



Macy rolls her eyes at the idea. No way.



Isla is shrieking in Macy’s arms. Macy is pacing back and forth, bouncing her daughter, willing her to stop crying. “What? What do you want? Please, tell me what you want, Isla!” She begs, exhaustedly.



No one slept that night, and Macy has no idea how she is going to make it through this day while Fisher is at work, hence why she is skipping the mom group. She’d been going for a few weeks now, despite how chaotic it has been. While it’s been nice to be surrounded by so many women who are going through the same thing, Isla has spent every single meeting crying, and Macy has spent every meeting doing everything she can to try to settle her down, without success. It was actually embarrassing: she was becoming known as the mother of the screaming child. And while no one would outwardly judge her, Macy began wondering if the meetings were helping her at all or if they were making her more self-conscious about her mothering abilities. Regardless, she does not have the energy to deal with any of it today. Therefore, they are staying home.



“Isla,” she groans, bouncing more fervently now. Even at two months old, Macy still found it hard to tell what Isla wanted. She goes through the checklist of possibilities: It isn’t naptime yet. She just ate. Her diaper is dry.



Macy’s legs are becoming more tired, so she takes refuge in their rocking chair in the living room. Settling in, she instantly finds a steady, soothing rhythm, and decides to at least try offering Isla more milk.



Isla latches quickly, and Macy, though annoyed that the solution was so simple, is also relieved to both be sitting and granted a moment without screaming. She leans her head back against the chair, and inhales as her baby drinks. Then, she feels her daughter detach. She prepares for a loud wail, but there isn’t one.



Macy looks down at her daughter and is surprised to see that Isla is looking up at Macy with something in her eyes that resembles….recognition. “You were just hungry, is that all?” Macy laughs softly, running a finger across her tiny lips, feeling silly for having been so frustrated.



Then, Isla does something Macy has yet to see in her infant. Reaching her tiny hand up to Macy, Isla’s lips part, creasing upwards into a smile. Macy pauses, unsure of what is happening – she has only ever seen her daughter smile in her sleep, “milk drunk” after a full serving of breast milk. Then, an audible coo leaves Isla’s mouth, startling Macy all the more.



“Oh!” Macy is speechless by her daughter’s first seemingly directed and intentional sound.



Isla coos again, smiling wider than before.



“Ooooh,” Macy returns her daughter’s coo. “Hi, there, Isla, it’s me, Mama. Maaa – maaa,” she breaks up the word distinctly, drawing out the short “a” sound.



Isla’s eyes brighten with recognition. “Mmmmm,” she coos up at Macy, and then, “aaaaaahhhhh”, as she grips Macy’s chin.



Macy’s heart bursts at her daughter's first hello. “Mmmm, that’s right. Mama. It’s Mama, I’m Mama. Hi, baby.”

December 18, 2022 22:34

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

37 comments

Michał Przywara
21:44 Dec 21, 2022

This is specifically about new mothers, but the story itself is universally relatable. Trying to handle something like caring for a newborn, where there's a huge workload and tonnes of uncertainty, can be crazy stressful. Especially alone. That's why groups like this one are so powerful, and so curious. They don't actually *do* anything. It's not a workshop where they take the baby apart, pinpoint the issue, and give you a definite answer. Instead, these groups listen, and they show. They show you are not actually alone in this, and that t...

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
15:18 Dec 22, 2022

I want to up this comment several more times because you get it! I was worried it would be unrelatable for non-mothers, but you absolutely nailed its universal message. Thank you for that, Michal. And yes, the timing was nonlinear, just like many aspects of life. But when I conceptualized the story, I knew it was the only way. You said it perfectly: "there really isn't a start or end at all." Yup, that's life. Glad you enjoyed that final bit. I struggled to fit such a sweet moment (one I literally have a 3 minute video of with my daughte...

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Wally Schmidt
18:16 Dec 25, 2022

There is nothing quite so mundane and universal as having a baby; and at the same time, there is no greater miracle. When my friend adopted four year old twins from Thailand, they had no way to communicate, not sharing a common language. That made me appreciate all those special and frustraing moments I had with my baby before he could speak. I came to realize what a wonderful bonding mechanism this biological imperative is. Before a child can tell you what they need, you learn to communicate and listen to their needs without words. Words th...

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
16:26 Dec 26, 2022

Hi Wally, what a beautiful comment. I cannot imagine what your friends went through with their twins but I imagine it was a labor of love learning how to communicate with them. I'm sure when they finally had that moment of recognition between each other, it was so heart felt and rewarding. Thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to read and comment. I admire and appreciate your feedback always.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Laurel Hanson
12:52 Dec 23, 2022

Wow, you tackled a tough topic. Being a new mother in this culture (which lacks familial support structures) is so overwhelming difficult, that what should be a wonderful time can actually be depressing. But that reality is not something people really want to hear about and I think a lot of us want to (are biologically programmed to?) forget. The thing is, we shouldn't forget it because we need that empathy available to extend to other struggling mothers, which is what you show so well in this story.

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
17:03 Dec 23, 2022

Hi Laurel thank you for your words. It is a tough topic, and I was fortunate enough to go through my postpartum journey surrounded by a lot of support. But within that support, I was also told stories of how mothers in my family were able to do it all without help. That narrative is really crushing for a new mom, especially one with anxiety and depression. These mom groups saved me and were able to balance out that narrative with the truth of the challenges of motherhood. I could not have survived motherhood without those women and that grou...

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Lei King
20:32 Dec 22, 2022

~ Anne, I've read multiple of your short stories and I think this one by far, has to be my favorite. It really grapples you into the life of a new mother. Trying to handle something like a newborn, can be pretty crazy and stressful, especially alone. Now, I'm no mother figure, but I babysit as a side job, and even babysitting kids older than a newborn is already stress-filled enough. Mom Groups are so powerful in our community. They don't actually "do" anything. These groups can't tell you what the issue actually is, but these groups listen...

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
00:04 Dec 23, 2022

Lei, you have been far too kind to me today. This piece is near and dear to my heart so it just fills me up with joy to hear that you enjoyed it so much. I wouldn't have survived postpartum without my mom group, and it's sad to hear when moms don't have access to one! Thanks so much for investing your time in my writings. Best, AnneMarie

Reply

Lei King
14:14 Dec 23, 2022

~ Anne, I was wondering if I could reach out to you about a story I've been writing. I want to get feedback from someone else, other than my own family. I've really lost all motivation for writing that story, and I, somehow, want to save it. If you have any ideas for it, please email me. 27holtz221@sasd.net. It's the only email I have since I am far too lazy to make one for myself. Just be critical, no offense will be taken if you are. Just want some feedback on how I can make it better. ~ Best regards, Lei Mendoza <3

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
16:04 Dec 23, 2022

Hi Lei, I just read your first story! I did my best there to offer some helpful feedback. Feedback isn't always easy for me but I will try since you are asking. It is always easier to write when an objective mind gets in the mix. You can send it to me at amiles.writes@gmail.com :)

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Amanda Lieser
20:41 Dec 21, 2022

Hey Anne, This one was beautiful. I love how you told it outside of chronological order. I thought you did a beautiful job of creating enchanting characters. I wanted to hold and hug each and every one of them. A dear friend of mine just had her 2nd a few months ago. This story made me think of her. Nice job!

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
15:21 Dec 22, 2022

Thanks so much Amanda! This one is close to home for me, as the group is based on a real group I used to attend. Make sure to check in on your mama friends ♥️ thanks for reading and commenting :)

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Marty B
19:20 Dec 20, 2022

I did forget how stressfull those first few weeks with a newborn are! Are we doing this right? why is she screaming again? why wont she just go to sleep? over and over and over. It is a good thing they are so cute!

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
03:16 Dec 21, 2022

They're tough! Especially with a colicky babe 😢 being cute is certainly a survival skill. And I'll never forget when my daughter first started smiling and cooing at me - that made it so much easier!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Wendy Kaminski
00:05 Dec 19, 2022

This was so very relatable: the frustration was so well-portrayed that I felt it strongly and heartbreakingly, and I've never even had children. Here's to moms, wow. :( Hang in there!

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
00:58 Dec 19, 2022

Thank you Wendy! This is loosely based on my experience becoming a mother. There is really no way to prepare for the role. We're all just winging it. Thanks for reading and commenting.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
AnneMarie Miles
23:13 Dec 18, 2022

Dedicated to all moms, especially those who suffer from postpartum depression/anxiety. ❤️

Reply

Show 0 replies
Tom Ortega
03:36 Dec 30, 2022

what a heartwarming tail!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Susan Catucci
18:32 Dec 29, 2022

Yes, been there, as so many have. I even felt some anxiousness rising in me and intensifying until the end, and to be left with a cooing child saying her first word makes it all worth it - every time. Terrific, Anne Marie, deeply human.

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
22:23 Dec 29, 2022

I'm glad I'm not the only one who understands. When I became a mother I was so relieved to be a part of a group of people who shared this incredible common ground. We know it's hard but we know it's worth it. Thanks for reading, Susan. Looking forward to reading your Christmas poem story soon!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Edward Latham
17:59 Dec 27, 2022

I am both exhausted and relieved after reading this! You definitely conveyed the anxiety and stress that the new mothers felt as they struggled to understand their new babies at first. But then I felt the joy and light that poured through at the end, with the moment of connection between the two. I haven't had a child myself, but I feel like this enlightens me as to some of the emotions involved, which means you've done a great job!

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
05:44 Dec 28, 2022

Thanks for your kind words, Edward! It's been really cool to have non-parents and non-mothers find any way to relate to this. I appreciate you taking the time to dive into it. :)

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Aeris Walker
12:02 Dec 27, 2022

All of this: so so relatable. The awkwardness of joining a new mom group, the stressful drives to *anywhere,* the constant overwhelm. I remember one of my first solo outings with my first baby, where I was trying to get him all wrapped up in a moby carrier in the middle of a target parking lot, and the fabric was not cooperating and kept slipping and dragging through wet oil puddles and I just wanted to quit! Your writing evoked all of those feelings and reminded me how much parenting has changed since that moby wrap disaster 5 years ago. ...

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
16:39 Dec 27, 2022

Aeris, thank you so much for these sweet words. I absolutely relate to your baby carrier experience. Those were quite the tragedy for me; I think I went through three baby carriers before I found one that worked, and the whole thing gave me major anxiety. But, alas, everything has changed since then. Those days feel far behind me, but there are some moments I'll never forget. Like this last piece, where her daughter smiles at her for the first time. *Sigh* 🥰 Thanks for reading and commenting and your good luck wishes! Fingers crossed we bo...

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Mike Panasitti
01:51 Dec 26, 2022

I'm male and not even a father, but this story was able to put me squarely in the shoes of a woman going through the anxious moments of early motherhood. The job of the best fiction is to make us feel empathy for those that have different embodiments (and, as a result, different points of view) than ourselves. This story made me feel precisely that sort of empathy, and for that I'm grateful.

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
16:17 Dec 26, 2022

This is such a kind compliment, thank you, Mike. This story is so near and dear to my heart, so it means so much to me that you were able to find meaning in it.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Rebecca Miles
06:10 Dec 24, 2022

There aren't nearly enough stories focusing on the worries and wonder of being a mother. Why is that? This is such a moving interpretation of the prompt; the struggle to understand those cries through the brain-fog of exhaustion. This is so impactful as it was crafted to be relatable: the car drive and the arm that doesn't quite reach; the pulling over; the desperate questions and the unintelligible shrieked response. You've thought carefully about the structure, choosing the bigger step back and then one smaller step forward in time to deli...

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
16:29 Dec 24, 2022

I imagine you are nearly sleeping after all the festivities yesterday. Mine are just beginning today as Santa comes tonight!! Thank you for these kind words, sister scribbler! You pointed out all of the details that seem so small, but are the biggest indicators of the struggle of motherhood - the arm that doesn't reach, for example. Now that my daughter is older, I was able to put myself back into these situations and I can still remember the anxiety of it all: wanting to be the best mother and feeling like you're just failing at every turn...

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Mary Lehnert
18:27 Dec 23, 2022

Congrats on the shortlist Anne. Having that first baby. Such an important role and nobody gives a blueprint. We’ve all been there . Happily it all works out just the way it should.

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
16:16 Dec 24, 2022

Thank you, Mary. This story has not been judged yet, but I appreciate the congratulations for my previous story :) And you are very right: it does all work out in the end. Thanks for reading :)

Reply

Mary Lehnert
16:21 Dec 24, 2022

Such a neophyte Anne Thought I got the right story. I’ve been looking up all your work. Impressive! From one mother to another Have a good holiday. Mary

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
16:55 Dec 24, 2022

You are too sweet. I appreciate all of your support and kindness. Happy holidays to you and your family, Mary! ❤️

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Philip Ebuluofor
19:37 Dec 20, 2022

Maybe she did not attend antenatal class well while pregnant. It is important. They teach all those babies' antics well there. Maybe it was the worm disturbing the baby then. Fine work.

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
03:17 Dec 21, 2022

I agree those classes are important, but there is no class in the world that can prepare you for parenthood. There's just nothing like the experience itself. Thanks for reading Philip!

Reply

Philip Ebuluofor
14:36 Dec 22, 2022

Welcome.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Philip Ebuluofor
14:36 Dec 22, 2022

Welcome.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Philip Ebuluofor
14:36 Dec 22, 2022

Welcome.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 3 replies
Show 1 reply

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.