From When the World Stopped Touching: Mothers’ Letters In Pandemic
Dear L, It’s 3:19 a.m. I just fed the baby while my son screamed, I want to sleep in your bed! We don’t let him until the sun wakes up, that’s the rule. The sun is still in its bed, we explain. He counters, But I’ll be really quiet. I promise. His plea, I just want to hug…