Why this book exists
A focused place to understand what is happening
Elin was sitting on the floor of the nursery at half past four in the afternoon, her four-month-old daughter asleep at last on her chest, and she was crying, quietly, in a way she could not have explained to anyone who asked. It was not that anything was wrong, exactly. The baby was healthy. Elin was healthy. By every external measure this was the thing she had wanted, had planned for, had been told would be the happiest chapter of her life. And she felt, underneath the love, which was real and enormous, a grief and a disorientation so large and so unspeakable that she had begun to think there was something seriously wrong with her. She loved her daughter with a ferocity that frightened her. That part had arrived more or less as promised. What no.
The writing is designed to reduce shame, bring the underlying pattern into view and give you practical ways to respond without pretending that every life follows the same formula.
