I talk that way to myself in the night when I lie awake until I nearly lose my mind.

Sometimes, too, I try to cheat myself by thinking that all these terrible things might not have happened had God not taken my baby.

But I don't know.

They might have happened just the same, my head was so full of all that was wicked.
When I think of that, I am glad the baby died.

It could never have called me mother.