When I ducked into a café to escape the rain and feed my baby granddaughter, hostile strangers made it clear we weren't welcome. Then someone called the police on me, and a few days later, my face was in the local paper.
I had Sarah when I was 40. She was my miracle baby, my one and only. Sarah grew up kind, smart, and full of life.
At 31, she was finally expecting her own child. But last year, during childbirth, I lost her.
A black-and-white side-profile image of a pregnant woman holding her baby bump | Source: Pexels
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