It Changes Every 30 Seconds

At work, my boss says, “If you don’t like what you’re doing, just wait a few weeks, it’ll change.”

 

I sat still in the rocking chair in our three-month-old daughter’s quiet room. The last gray light of evening slipped in around the curtains. I had finished nursing and was cuddling her on my shoulder. I held my hand against her tiny back and felt her warmth.

This was the child for whom we had prayed. She was here, she was real, she was perfect.

I thought, I’ve never been so happy.

She twitched and lifted her head. I smiled.

Then, before I could react, she smashed her face into my lip with all her force.

Her shrieking filled the little room. I struggled to hold onto this tiny flailing person. I licked my now-pulsing lip and wondered, Am I bleeding?

 

 

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