I Installed a Baby Monitor in My Son’s Room and Got Scared When I Saw Movement

Car accident. Wet road.

Wrong time, wrong place. One of those phone calls you never forget, even when you want to.

I was seven months pregnant. The stress sent me into labor a few days later.

I gave birth to Edduin small, early, and angry at the world.

I was in a fog of grief and hospital disinfectant, staring at him through tears, thinking, “It’s just us now, kid.”

Raising him alone became my whole identity.

I work from home doing customer support. So my life was headset on, baby on my chest, one hand typing, one hand soothing.

People kept saying, “You should get help. A nanny.
Move back with your parents.”

But I wanted him to know me. Not strangers. Me.

So I did everything.

Bills, work, feeds, diapers, appointments, laundry, crying in the shower at 3 a.m.