Mave remembers.
Each conversation informs the next. You don't have to re-explain everything from the beginning.
How Mave Remembers
What that sounds like in practice:
“Evenings have come up a few times. You’re not alone in that.”
“You’ve talked about feeling unseen more than once.”
“It sounds like it’s been hard to feel settled lately.”
The evenings get harder.
“when the sun starts going down and your chest gets tight before anything even happens.”
The vigilance that won’t turn off.
“not napping when he did because i wanted to keep an eye on him.”
The loneliness of a full room.
“i was surrounded by people who loved me and still felt completely alone.”
The invisible weight.
“the baby wasn’t the hard part. it was everything else. the bottles. the laundry. the appointments. the invisible list.”
Missing who you were.
“i wasn’t homesick for a place. i was homesick for me.”
The guilt that arrives before the failure does.
“i never feel like i’m doing enough.”
The touch that’s too much.
“by 6pm i couldn’t stand being touched by anyone. including the baby. and then the guilt.”
The thoughts you haven’t said out loud.
“i had to explain to the universe that i didn’t actually want that.”
These aren’t categories. They’re the places mothers come back to. Mave is built to recognize when you’re in one of them — and to be there when you are.