After giving birth, my husband made it clear to me that my body had become a problem he expected me to solve. I lost weight, but by then I had already discovered something about him that he never would have imagined.

Four months after my daughter was born, my life revolved around shots instead of hours.

I woke up two or three times a night, sometimes more, and in the morning I barely remembered if my teeth had brushed.

The coffee was cooled on the countertop. Breakfast was what I could prepare with one hand while holding the baby with the other. Some days, even showering seemed like an achievement.

Ryan fell asleep almost all the time.

If he woke him up with an elbow, he muttered, “You’re awake,” as if that was enough to solve everything. On weekends, sometimes you

He would take the baby so that I could rest, but as soon as I cried, it would appear at the door.

“She loves you.”

“You are awake.”

“He’s been with me all day.”

“Yes, but you know how to calm her down.”

So I took her back.