By the end of the week, I had created the perfect flat towel for my husband.
It was a simple, flat sheet of fabric, wrapped around him and gently draped across his back.
It didn’t have a handle, so he had to get hold of it.
The towel was a gift from my mother.
But the first time I held it, I felt so awkward.
My son and I were the only ones in the room when the ceremony took place.
I was holding my baby son.
I couldn’t imagine being in the house.
I knew that I wasn’t ready to be the wife who couldn’t handle this, or the one who couldn-t-handle this.
I started to panic.
Then, I remembered my mother, who’d been with me through the ceremony and who’d seen my baby boy through tears.
She was standing in the living room, watching over the ceremony.
As the ceremony was about to start, she asked me, “What’s the first thing you do after you get home?”
I told her, “I grab a towel, and I wrap it around my husband.”
She looked at me and said, “You’re so lucky.
This is how you keep your husband’s happiness.”
I thought about my mom for a second, then said, No.
This wasn’t what I wanted to do.
I don’t like being the one holding my son.
My mother didn’t want to be there, either.
She asked if I was going to go into labor, and then we left.
My husband didn’t know about my pregnancy or how long I was pregnant.
But my mom didn’t ask me.
I’d only had sex a couple of times before, so I didn’t think much about that.
We did not talk about my son or my wedding, so when I got pregnant, it didn’t bother me.
My mom’s mother had just left, so the ceremony had been in progress for the past hour.
My daughter and I had been together for six years, and the wedding was the culmination of a lot of hard work.
The wedding was meant to be a family event.
The ceremony had started about 20 minutes before our son’s birth, and my husband and I knew exactly what to expect.
I didn, too.
I had to be quiet and be in my own world, as I would have done, to avoid the awkwardness of the moment.
As I watched the ceremony, I was overwhelmed by the emotion of what I was doing.
It felt like a huge step, a major change in how I felt about my life.
I sat on my couch, and in my mind, I imagined a new life.
My future husband was going through a difficult time.
I could see him walking around the house, playing with his dog, and playing with other people.
I thought of how he had moved out of his mother’s house and into his own, so we could have more time together.
I also imagined how he was going on vacation, which was great because we were going to be together forever.
I loved my son, but I also knew I needed to be strong for him.
My wedding day would have been a huge loss to him, and he’d be looking back on his life and seeing all of his accomplishments, but this was just another day, and there would be more to come.
I got dressed and went into the bathroom, but as soon as I got out, I began to feel weak.
I felt weak because I couldn-not-handle-the-moment.
I tried to keep my son’s feet on my lap, and so I couldn, but it felt like I was being pulled off of him.
I cried and cried.
I wasn-t sure what to do about it.
I realized that I was in an extremely difficult place, and that there was no way out.
My first instinct was to cry in the shower, to relieve myself.
But I also started to cry on the steps.
I went back to the kitchen, and for the first few minutes, I tried not to cry, but the more I tried, the more tears came.
I did everything I could to keep myself from crying, but in the end, I couldn.
I said to myself, “Don’t cry.
Don’t feel ashamed.
Don, don’t let anyone know how much you’re hurting.”
I didn-t want to give up, but my body couldn’t help me.
So I put my hands under my arms and cried on the bathroom floor.
It took me about five minutes, but then I had an epiphany.
I decided that I had done the right thing by letting my son experience the happiness of a normal, loving marriage, and by making this new life a reality for him, so that he could be a happy, healthy, and fulfilled adult.
I am so grateful to have my mother’s support, because my life is better