"I became a single parent to my 11-week-old in the very inopportune month of November. In addition to figuring out how to keep an infant alive, adjusting to a parenting schedule that included hours of separation from my baby every week, and managing postpartum physiological and hormonal changes, the holidays facilitated a long line of uncomfortable questioning from friends and neighbors."
"These seemingly innocuous questions served as hurtful reminders that: A) I had failed at marriage, B) the public-facing facade on our picture-perfect marriage had crumbled, and C) in front of me sat a string of years alone with a baby who, at least for a little while, would offer little in terms of conversation. As I dragged myself through those early weeks of questioning, I failed to see that at the end of the month I would encounter a new single-parent first:"
I became a single parent to my 11-week-old in November, juggling infant care, a new parenting schedule with hours of weekly separation, and postpartum physiological and hormonal changes. Holidays intensified painful scrutiny from friends and neighbors who asked intrusive questions about the marriage and parenting arrangements. The questions reinforced feelings of failure, the collapse of a picture-perfect facade, and a looming future of solitary years with a little one. The first Thanksgiving included a short custody exchange; the first Christmas morning passed without the daughter. The absence during holidays produced acute grief and prompted outreach to experienced single-mom friends for reassurance.
Read at Slate Magazine
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