She’s six now. Solona. I still remember the first time I saw her. A little red ball of life. Slick hair and long, skinny feet. The doctor placed her on my chest and I started talking to her. She immediately tried to raise her head and open her eyes to look at me. Her cry was faint and pretty. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. My daughter. The voice of my own child. I’ll never forget how it seemed motherhood just took over my whole psyche from moment one. All of a sudden I just knew what to do. I knew how to keep a whole human alive. From that day forward, my life would be forever different.
Six years later, it’s not as easy to keep this human alive.
She can talk.