I am my mother's daughter - by Hannah

I spent many years thinking I was not my mother’s daughter. I was a part of her that should have died a long time ago but didn’t. I stopped breathing when I was born, and my mother always said I was her miracle. I used to think no, I am something that should be dead. I am not supposed to be here. I used to think there was less miracle and more curse involved in my taking another breath. I never stopped to think of how it must have felt, having your child ripped from your arms because they can’t find a heartbeat and not being able to do anything but wait. I never stopped to think of the kind of relief she felt when I took a small, gasping breath. I only ever thought of where I must have gone in those minutes, and how it seemed to be what I needed to return to. My mother used to say I was her miracle, and it took me too many years to stop recoiling at those words, to stop thinking horrible things as she smiled at me with nothing but love. I used to wish I had someone looking back at me t

I spent many years thinking I was not my mother’s daughter. I was a part of her that should have died a long time ago but didn’t. I stopped breathing when I was born, and my mother always said I was her miracle. I used to think no, I am something that should be dead. I am not supposed to be here. I used to think there was less miracle and more curse involved in my taking another breath. I never stopped to think of how it must have felt, having your child ripped from your arms because they can’t find a heartbeat and not being able to do anything but wait. I never stopped to think of the kind of