My name is Karen Bellamy. I am thirty-four years old, and I work as a pediatric nurse at a bustling hospital just outside Richmond, Virginia. I’ve spent the last six years existing in a state of perpetual exhaustion, working night shifts, changing bedpans, comforting terrified children who want their mothers, and somehow still making it to the school pickup line on time. Being a single mother was never the grand design. But when my ex-husband decided that fatherhood cramped his lifestyle, I learned to stop making plans and start making adjustments.