“I regret that I cannot give him my full attention, but there are simply too many demands placed on me.” Stock Image: Getty
When my daughter arrived, I wrote an indictment of newborn life in this column. People were excited about the cuddles, the newborn bubble, the smell of the little overlords. They kept warning me to ENJOY it all.
My newborn phase? Her head was a sponge, catching and soaking up my tears as we sat in a pitch-black room, with pitch-black white noise, rocking and rocking and rocking in an abyss.