đź“– PROLOGUE: The First Cry After Silence
The first sound Meera made after birth wasn’t a cry .It was a soft hiccup — like she had held her breath too long inside my grief and finally remembered she was allowed to exist. I named her after the rain — soft, unexpected, and completely mine. People told me giving birth alone was brave. It wasn’t.
Bravery is sitting through a 3 a.m. fever without a partner’s hand to hold.
Bravery is checking homework while choking on your own unshed tears.
Bravery is listening to your daughter ask, *“Why don’t I have a Papa like Rishi?“* — and answering with a smile. My daughter doesn’t know that she saved me. That when her tiny fingers first wrapped around mine, I remembered how to breathe again. It’s been five years since Aarav left. Five years since I was left with a cradle and a death certificate. Every year since has brought a different moon. One to mourn. One to scream. One to forgive. One to begin again. This is the story of those nine moons. Not just of how I lost...But of how I learned to become whole.
Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading Nine Moons! 🌙 To make this journey special, a little moment of magic and hope. Set your clocks and join me then! Your patience means the world to me. 💫
And please, don’t forget to leave your thoughts and comments. I love hearing from you — your feedback means everything.
Stay tuned, and let’s walk through this story together, one moon at a time.
With love,
Shrii
