On the hospital bed, you decide that one child is enough. But decisions and actions are as different as a man and a woman who are standing next to each other as strangers and pretending as if they are related. A few years pass. The thought of the death of an only child is like a lost balloon in the air, and a mother whose days are boring is the first to notice it. Then she listens to the voice of a woman who is as old as the world and whispers in her ears, “What if your only child dies?” Besides, this poor kid will always be alone, and bringing a little playmate doesn’t hurt anybody, and after the parents die they would be great support for each other. Moreover, now that your work is changing diapers, and you actually have shown great aptitude in that, why not use this God-given talent to raise other kids, and a thousand other reasons. Then you get pregnant with your second child and become a complete mother.

Before you know it, wherever you go they ask about your kids, and you have to drag them with you everywhere. Your life is connected to two other human beings in every possible way. There are days that don’t simply end with feeding the baby and changing diapers, the kind of days that no one has written about in any books.

Mahin takes English lessons and writes letters to the fiancé that she has never met. Shahla is busy paying the mortgage for the two-bedroom apartment that she has bought in a nice neighborhood. Now that Mahin is leaving, she can live there with Maman.

Amir is packing his backpack to seek refuge in the mountains. From this life that is filled with whining kids. He says this life bores him to death. I frown at him. The baby is feeding.

He says he is not leaving forever. He is only going to Mt. Alam for five days, and he will be back soon. Besides, it is for our sake that he is going away for such a short trip. Otherwise, he would be at the foot of Mt. Everest right now. He is a migrant bird, and for now he is trapped in a cage, but he is yearning to fly.

He says, “You are a polar bear. You like this life. It was you who gave birth to these kids, not someone else.”

It is snowing. I have to give Shadi lots to drink because she has diarrhea and is running a fever. Shahin is constantly coughing. Someone has to raise the kids. This time the migrant bird has flown to Mt. Damavand. Maman is staying with me.

“Don’t be so cold. Socialize with your neighbors. It is so boring here. Your last house was better.”

I have to raise the kids.