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Everyone else in the room\u2014Keith, his parents\u2014cooed. They thought it was sweet, a healing balm for her infertility trauma. I thought it was terrifying. It felt less like a promise of love and more like a declaration of ownership.<\/p>\n
The invasion began immediately. Bridget was at our doorstep every single morning. She treated me not as the mother, but as an obstacle\u2014a wet nurse to be tolerated. She would snatch Lily from my arms the moment she walked in.<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy looks tired,\u201d she would say, her voice sickly sweet, even when I had slept eight hours and felt fine. \u201cMommy needs a break. Go away, Mommy.\u201d<\/p>\n
When I reached to take my child back, Bridget\u2019s grip would tighten. Her knuckles would turn white against Lily\u2019s onesie. \u201cDon\u2019t be selfish,\u201d she\u2019d hiss, her face inches from mine. \u201cLily needs to bond with her aunt, too. You can\u2019t hoard her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then, the \u201caccidents\u201d began.<\/p>\n