A few nights ago my partner woke me up from what was clearly a nightmare. I was staring straight at him — still asleep at this point — shouting and frantically pulling his arms away from his chest, “Where’s the baby, where is she??”
My point of waking was hearing his voice, “She’s in her cot Emma, she’s fast asleep in her cot”, and I immediately became aware that what I was doing with my scrabbling hands wasn’t necessary, she was alright.
I don’t have any memory of the danger that she was in apart from an overlay of dread…
A New Zealand mother, writer and progressive thinker. On a mission to spill the beans about mental health, motherhood, sobriety, addiction, and joy.