The Push

by Ashley Audrain

We could have counted our problems on the petals of the daisy in my bouquet, but it wouldn’t be long before we were lost in a field of them.

Motherhood is like that—there is only the now. The despair of now, the relief of now.

I would pray for the numbness to return. Even though I found satisfaction in the pain, I knew I wouldn’t survive it.

The mother’s head moved slowly forward and then back and she mustered the words, “Of course, honey,” and she put her hand on his for the most fleeting moment before she tucked it back beneath her thighs under the table. A mother’s heart breaks a million ways in her lifetime.

“You know, there’s a lot about ourselves that we can’t change—it’s just the way we’re born. But some parts of us are shaped by what we see. And how we’re treated by other people. How we’re made to feel.”