I spent so much of your life just wishing you would sleep or stop crying or let me have a break. I used to get so frustrated and angry with you that I would want to throw you across the room. I used to wish that we could go back to just daddy and me. Sometimes I would even wish that you would die. I just felt like I couldn’t handle it. Being a mom is the hardest thing in the entire world. I went from being selfish, always sleeping in, and doing whatever I wanted to do, to having to take care of you 24/7. And it’s hard. It’s hard having to be completely selfless. It’s hard having someone depend on you entirely. And I used to say these horrible, ugly things to you and call you names that I don’t even like to think about. There was even times when I’d have to put you down and walk away because I just couldn’t handle the constant crying all by myself anymore. There were so many times that I wasn’t able to catch myself before I lost my temper. Sometimes I wouldn’t even realize what I was doing until I had already done it. And I don’t think that I will truly ever forgive myself for those things. Because all you wanted was a little bit more mommy time, or to look at something new, or a different toy, or more milk, or you were tired, or your teeth were hurting. And I was awful to you. People keep telling me I’m some great mother. But that’s just not true. I’m not a great mother. I’m not even a good mother. Maybe that’s why this happened to us. Maybe God or whoever decided that you deserved better than me. I know I believed it your entire life. I wanted so badly to be a mom, but once I was one, I just couldn’t do it. And now, I wish that I could go back and change everything. I wish that I had just held you like you wanted instead of giving you to your dad. I wish that I had played with you more. I wish that I had sang to you and read to you and talked to you more than I did. I wish I had let you sleep in bed with me. I have so many regrets from only six months. The only six months I will ever have with you. Why couldn’t I just be different? Why couldn’t I control my temper? Or not have one at all? Why couldn’t someone tell me that I should treat every moment like a gift because even though I took every precaution possible, you would still be taken from me? And now I will never get to make things up to you. I will never look into those big beautiful eyes of yours and tell you that I love you and that I’m sorry. And I am, Maya. I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much. I love you with my entire being. I just wish that I had showed it more to you when I still could.