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Leo was a gift so precious that it was only logical to be expected to work for it. Take away my sleep, she wanted to say. Take away my individuality, my job, my nights out, my ability to read a book, my trendy clothes—take all of it and see if I care. There was no sacrifice too great, no lack that she wouldn’t willingly suffer. She had her baby. Finally, after so much time and so much suffering: he was here.
She has come to realize that the ferocity of this kind of love is enough to drive you mad, that the tragic flaw of parenthood is that you equip your child to leave you. But what if you never want to let them go?
