make.

She was not a reflection of my parenting that anyone had the right to judge.

She was a little girl who deserved patience, tenderness, and the freedom to grow.

My mother knew about those frightening weeks in the hospital.

She knew how much we had worried.

She knew that every small milestone felt enormous to us.

Yet as the months passed, her questions began to make me uncomfortable.

“Is she gaining enough weight?”

“Are you sure she’s eating enough?”

“Have the doctors said anything about her size?”

“Don’t you