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Society leaves women like myself feeling outcast, isolated and punished for choosing to give our babies mercy.
By
02/03/2021 02:39pm EST
I discovered I was pregnant on Mother’s Day, at the beginning of a roaring global pandemic. Alone at home in rural British Columbia, I was overjoyed, terrified and instantly in love with this tiny, very-wanted embryo.
Five months later, I would be sobbing in a hospital bed at BC Women’s Hospital, staring at my silent baby daughter. She lay motionless in a clear, plastic bassinet on a mound of ice, snugly bundled in the gingham blanket we had chosen for her 10 hours earlier. A white knit toque sat atop her soft head. The lights in our quiet hospital room were dimmed, but to me, she shone like an angel.