What I Fear Most for My Daughter


I fear my daughter will only remember the down days. The days her I spent taking baths and lying in bed. The days it seemed the cartoons never ended.

I fear my daughter will wonder how she could have made me happy.

I fear my daughter will feel the need to take care of me, her brother, and her father because her mother “just couldn’t do it today.”

I fear my daughter will believe motherhood was the cause of my sadness.

I fear most my daughter will inherit the same daunting illness that cripples me.

I HOPE my daughter remembers the days I giggled, and snuggled, and played tirelessly.

I hope my daughter will know know fiercely and deeply she is loved by me.

I hope my daughter will know I fought tooth and nail, everyday to not be crippled by this illness.

I hope my daughter can see the beauty and happiness of motherhood while we bake, paint, and read together.

I hope my daughter, if and when she experiences this daunting illness, knows she can fight through it. That she can talk about it. That she is more than depression. I hope she knows she can beat it because her mother finally did.

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