Seventeen Pots of Hydrangeas

On the nineteenth day after giving birth, I told my mother something felt wrong.

She didn't even look up.

"Who isn't exhausted after having a baby? I didn't have anyone helping me after I gave birth, and I still got through it."

After that, I stopped talking about it.

At night, when Noah cried, I got up to warm his bottle. My hands shook so badly that I dropped it on the floor.

Carol ran out of her room barefoot. The first thing she said was, "Are you doing this on purpose?"

Once, a nurse from the clinic came out for a postpartum home visit and asked how I was feeling.