Inferno: A Memoir of Motherhood and Madness

by Catherine Cho

How would it feel, to have something of my own creation, a beautiful thing, become twisted and dirty and abusive?

How were we meant to exit the loops of the past if we were destined to face them again and again?

Pregnancy felt like a separation from the body. My body was doing something on its own, a pre-programmed path it already knew, and I no longer had any control over. It felt like a hand sharply bringing my spirit back to my body, a return to the earthiness of it. It was also an erasure of self; I didn’t feel more ‘me’, I felt like I was being split, being shared. My body was no longer my own, I was a carrier, a holder of life. It was a reminder that my body was a collection of blood and bones.

!!!motherbaby->cusk?

I didn’t feel a rush of love or an overwhelming weight of responsibility, emotions that I’d been expecting. Instead, I felt curious, like I’d just been introduced to a stranger. He was a creature, an idea, not even human yet, just a being, a life.