When My Nine-Year-Old Daughter Stopped Eating, I Was Shocked to Discover Her Reason

A black and white image of a tween, long-haired, sad-looking girl.

A sad girl in Pixabay.

I always wanted children. It’s the one thing I never questioned. Even at sixteen, when my boyfriend and I started to have sex and were not exactly careful, I daydreamed about what it would be like to be a mother. I’d see myself blissfully holding a swaddled babe, magically knowing how to care for her because isn’t that what nature intended? Don’t all mammals intuitively know how to take care of their young?

Boy, was I wrong! Although I managed to keep Amanda and the two children that followed alive, I can say unequivocally that child-rearing is not intuitive. It takes effort, self-awareness, time, attention, devotion, humility, patience, and most importantly, truckloads of love.

My firstborn, Amanda, was an only child for nine years. Not because I didn’t want more children, but because my first husband was a dud and there was no way I was going to parent additional offspring with anyone who wasn’t excellent father-and-husband material.