Lost in my thoughts, I hadn\u2019t heard my husband coming upstairs. He stood in the doorway, looking worried.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2014 \u201cWhere is our daughter?\u201d he asked sharply.
\u2014 \u201cShe\u2019s still asleep,\u201d I replied, my tone as curt as his.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The atmosphere was heavy. Everything between us had become tense. Every word, every silence. The arrival of this second child was already wearing us down emotionally. Financially, we were barely staying afloat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was the one who had wanted this child. I wanted to give our daughter a companion, someone to hold hands with when the world felt too big. I didn\u2019t want her to grow up in the loneliness I had seen when a kid grows up being an only child\u2014thirsty for love, chasing friendships that always seemed to slip away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My husband had hesitated. He had reflected. He had calculated. He worried. He didn\u2019t see the future the way I did. Or maybe\u2026 he saw it too clearly?
He often told me he could read the future, and that frightened me\u2014because I saw despair in his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And I\u2026 I was a dreamer. I told him things would change, that doors would open, that love was sometimes enough to bring abundance into our lives.
He would say nothing. He\u2019d just look at me with that hard, frustrated, accusing look. I knew that look too well. It had replaced his tender gestures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was a mother before anything else. And it seemed I no longer knew how to balance that role with being a wife.
Our daughter, at just four years old, was already witnessing our arguments. Our silences. She watched us, eyes wide open, as if trying to decode a language no one had ever taught her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And so, I hated myself. And I hated him even more…
I thought of the child growing inside me, this little being, soon to arrive in a home that no longer felt like one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And yet…<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a time when our home overflowed with laughter. With promises. With light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I remember myself, sitting on the sofa covered with a gray slip,<\/a> his head on my lap, a book in my hands. He\u2019d find something funny on his phone, interrupt me with a laugh to share it. And I would stop to tell him what I loved about the passage I was reading. I remember the night I found out I was pregnant. Our first. I had just stepped out of the bathroom, the test<\/a> still in my hand. He had made lists of baby names. Strange, original combinations. He always had more imagination, more creativity than I did. That smile\u2026 it disappeared somewhere. I watch the morning light filter through the curtains<\/a>. I hear our daughter stirring in her room. And I wonder\u2026 But I take comfort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m still here. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn\u2019t heard my husband coming upstairs. He stood in the doorway, looking worried. \u2014 \u201cWhere is our daughter?\u201d he asked sharply.\u2014 \u201cShe\u2019s still asleep,\u201d I replied, my tone as curt as his. The atmosphere was heavy. Everything between us had …<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":84,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[148,422],"tags":[436,131,135,20,440,438,137,125,142,434,150,140],"class_list":["post-96","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-english-en","category-english-blog","tag-baby-products","tag-financial-anxiety","tag-hope-in-hardship","tag-mental-load","tag-must-haves","tag-newborn-essentials","tag-parental-burnout","tag-parenting-and-poverty","tag-parenting-fears","tag-parenting-tips","tag-relationship-struggles","tag-womens-choices"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=96"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":178,"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96\/revisions\/178"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/84"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=96"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=96"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naturalovebebe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=96"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
He\u2019d wait patiently for my poetic rambling to finish.
Together, we dreamed of a better world for our child.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at me, eyes shining like a child at Christmas.
He had lifted me in his arms, and we had danced, there in the middle of the living room, laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And every Saturday, he\u2019d cook spicy dishes because I had what he called \u201cuncontrollable cravings.\u201d
He\u2019d stir, taste, come to me with a spoon in hand. \u201cTaste this. Tell me what you think,\u201d he\u2019d say with that mischievous smile I loved so much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe at the bottom of a drawer filled with bills, broken dreams, and lost intimacy.
Maybe in a conversation we never got to finish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My heart stirs too. My eyes shine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Will our love break, one day, for good?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mother. Woman.
Tired. But alive.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"