he Whisper of Tiny Shoes – An Emotional Story of Motherhood
I was never ready. Not for the two pink lines. Not for the morning sickness. Not for the way my body stopped being just mine . But there she was — this tiny human with wrinkled skin and eyes like storms, placed gently on my chest, claiming her place in my heart without asking. The Early Days Nights turned into days and days into nights. Sleep came in pieces, often interrupted by soft cries or silent worries. I held her and wondered if I was doing anything right. She didn’t come with a manual — just needs, tears, and a heart that beat wildly for me. I cried quietly some nights. Not out of sadness, but out of overwhelming love… and fear. The Learning Curve She taught me more than any book ever could. That love could be fierce and soft at the same time. That silence could be beautiful, but so could chaos. The first time she said “Mama,” I forgot how tired I was. Her first steps were small earthquakes in my world, shaking everything — my priorities, my fears, my unders...