Before I could meet her, Miles continued with a host of reasons she was the worst person he had ever known. He talked incessantly about how he hated her. He hated his own mother. I listened in disbelief, not knowing whether he was sincere or putting on a show, and his outlandish telltales were a part of that show. 

How can a man be this bitter and unconnected? My only solution was to go the source of this madness. We were to meet up with his mother for lunch. His description of his mother remained ghastly and disheartening.  #apooloftears

Miles was cranky and showed no patience or tolerance for the slightest inconveniences. The pride and enjoyment that dads display with the birth of their first child was replaced with his discontentment and irritation.  #apooloftears

There was no satisfying him. He looked for wrong, and when he couldn’t find it, he made it up. He was miserable, drowning in his own sorrows, and instead of letting him drown, I threw him a life jacket. 

I wasn’t breast-feeding correctly. Her diapers were not changed regularly. How does a fool who has no children and no prior experience become an expert on breast-feeding and soiled diapers? 

My mothering skills were under extreme scrutiny. “You would think after three kids, you could get it right,” he said.

A Pool of Tears will be available August, 2015.

When love hurts. #apooloftears

 I couldn’t tell if he was excited or not. He downplayed her birth even though, according to him, he was infertile. Of course,we left the hospital as one big happy family. Appearances had to be maintained.