Every morning, I would drop the older children off at school and Rosie at daycare, work my shift until 2 pm, pick them all up, prepare dinner, help with homework, and read them bedtime stories until they finally fell asleep.
Six months passed exactly like that, one exhausting day melting into another. Slowly and painfully, we found a rhythm together. The pain never left us; it simply learned to settle more quietly in a corner of our daily lives.
I told myself every day that feeding them and keeping them safe was enough, that I was doing everything I could. But deep down, in moments of honesty, I constantly wondered if I was failing them in some way.
