The Child Who Screamed When She Left: How to Navigate Visits That Break Your Heart
I can still hear her screaming. Three and a half years later, in the quiet moments when my house is still and everyone’s asleep, I can hear that primal, desperate wail that tore through my chest and left a hole that’s never quite healed. She was eighteen months old. Tiny fists clenched around my shirt, her whole body shaking with the force of her terror. “MAMA! MAMA!” she screamed, reaching for me as the social worker pried her from my arms. I stood there in my driveway, frozen, my arms still...