Maybe it was hormones at first, but weeks passed and still I cried. I cried because it hurt to nurse. I cried because I had no instinct for baby talk and felt foolish trying. I cried because I missed myself. I would look at my puffy face in the mirror. What has happened to me? What happened to me: depression, mastitis—raging infections over and over again—loneliness, a baby who needed to be held all the time, and it never crossed my mind that he was simply cold.
