My name is Felicia and I'm a 27-year-old freelance photographer and a mother.

For the past 6 months, I have worked on a project called "Postpartum", which tells the stories of mothers who are going through or have healed from postpartum depression, beginning with my own experience.

I was told that the baby was fine. He’s fine, yet brain radiography is needed, to make sure he’s fine. When I went to see the baby, he was in the incubator. He was a tiny old man with rumpled skin, needles and threads embedded inside him. I was again told that the baby was fine. But his image would contradict this “fine” repeated obsessively. Fine was the sanguine babies, like little bread, from the window with fine babies. Mine wasn’t. A baby doesn’t stay in the incubator because he feels fine. A newborn does

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