Hailey
I’m sitting on the side of the bed, staring blankly at the wall, when my mother comes home with my children. I haven’t seen or heard from either of them in days, and they both look perfectly fine. Their hair is neat, their faces clean, their teeth brushed. They’re fully dressed. Not a wrinkle in sight. It makes me realize that my mother is so much better at this than me, so much better than I’ll ever be, especially now. I tell myself I’m not ready to go back to the way things were. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I don’t have the energy to be a mother. But I have these children, and they depend on me. That’s the reality.
“Hi, Mom!” My son runs to me, his arms open wide. He’s the first one to reach me, and I go to scoop him up in my arms, but I can’t do it. I can’t.
I hear my
