Charlotte continues to cry so I know I need to push through until I can eat to take some painkillers. As a teen I knew I wanted kids but I was so worried that any child I had would have a lesser quality of life because there are things I can’t do. But as I grew up, I thought about all the other mothers with different disabilities and decided that if they can do it, I can too. I didn’t want to miss an experience just because of my condition; my fibromyalgia had already robbed me of so much, but I wasn’t going to let it rob me of this too. Taking as deep of a breath as my body will allow, I push myself over to the edge of the bed.

Liam had to leave early for his morning skate, and I know my phone will be filled with texts asking how we are. I reach out to find my phone obstructed. I manage to squint my eyes open to see my amazing, beautiful boyfriend – partner, co-parent? I don’t know what to call him; we seem too mature for boyfriend, partner is too formal, and co-parent doesn’t really fit us any more, but regardless of our label, the angel has left me a banana, a bottle of water and my Aleve. It takes me less than ten seconds to scoff down the food and down the pills and drink as I prepare myself to get out of bed.

Parenting as someone with chronic pain is different than normal parenting. There are challenges upon challenges that the world doesn’t try to fix.

Finding a disability-friendly crib is hard, and some that would be helpful are banned in the US. In other countries there are cribs that open with a latch on the side so I could get to Charlotte without having to bend over, but unfortunately that isn’t approved in the USA.

Instead, Liam and I looked high and low until we found a crib that lifts on hydraulics called a PediaLift crib, so that wheelchair users can get in closer to the baby. It works for me because this way I don’t have to worry about if I can bend low enough to get to her.

Liam did everything he could to make this as easy as possible, and this time around money is no object. Most of Jack’s baby furniture was second-hand or what was on sale when I remembered what I would need. We managed, but Liam doesn’t want us to just survive: he wants Charlotte to have the best by giving me the best.

I came home one day when I was nine months pregnant to find a mini fridge in the master bedroom, I thought Liam was going through some frat boy phase.