A Life Held Together by Routine and Grief
Four months after giving birth to my son, Ones, my life still felt unreal.
Like I was living inside someone else’s story.
His father, Jesse, had died of cancer when I was five months pregnant.
Becoming a father had been his greatest dream.
When the doctor said, “It’s a boy,” I collapsed in tears.
It was everything Jesse had hoped for.
And he wasn’t there to hear it.
Raising a child alone is hard.
Doing it while grieving, with no savings and unpaid bills stacked on the table, felt impossible.
My days blurred into exhaustion:
