I barely remember the newborn stage; for me, it passed in a blur of sleep deprivation and weird television choices. But Samm Burnham Davidson took me back to those days with her latest, about how hard it is to say goodbye to those heady months spent staring at tiny eyelashes and absolutely perfect toes. Not to mention there’s no “ugh, mom” from these sweet-smelling little potatoes: “There is no fight for independence, no pushing me away or wiping off my kisses, just complete surrender to my obnoxiously suffocating love. I wish I could smother all my kids in this love forever,” she writes.
But she can’t, and that’s hard: “Today, as my fourth and last baby toddles around the kitchen saying my name, I feel intense grief.” Some things, it just takes time.
— Kelly Faircloth, Executive Editor |