ThePerfectMother - (EPUB全文下载)

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书籍内容：

Dedication
To Mark
Epigraph
Three blind mice, three blind mice,
See how they run, see how they run!
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
Mother’s Day
May 14
Joshua.
I wake, feverish. The skylight above me pulses with rain, and I spider my fingers across the sheets, remembering I’m alone.
I close my eyes and find my way back to sleep, until I’m woken again, engulfed by a deep, sudden pain. I’ve been waking with
a sick feeling every morning since he left, but I know right away this is different.

Something’s wrong.
It hurts to walk, and I crawl from the bed, across the floor, which is gritty with sand and dust. I find my phone in the living
room but I don’t know who to call. He’s the only one I want to speak to. I need to tell him what’s happening and hear him
say that everything will be fine. I need to remind him, just one more time, how much I love him.

But he won’t answer. Or worse, he will, and he’ll seethe into the phone, telling me he won’t continue to put up with this,
warning me that if I ever call him again, he’ll—

The pain grips my back so hard I can’t breathe. I wait for it to pass, for the moment of reprieve I’ve been promised, but
it doesn’t come. This isn’t what the books said would happen, nothing like what the doctor told me to expect. They said it’ll
be gradual. That I’ll know what to do. I’ll time things. I’ll sit on the stoop-sale yoga ball I bought. I’ll stay home as
long as possible, to avoid the machines, the drugs, all the things they do at the hospital to make a baby come before a body
is ready.

I’m not ready. It’s two weeks before my due date, and I’m not ready.

I focus on the phone. It’s not his number I dial, but hers, the doula—a pierced woman named Albany I’ve met just twice.
I’m attending to a birth and cannot take your call. If you are—
I crawl with my laptop to the bathroom and sit on the chilly tiles, a damp washcloth on my neck, the slim computer resting
............

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