I spent months hoping Faith would be born healthy, so I’d be off the hook. Then, when she was, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. But now I see it was a waste of time. Motherhood isn’t a test, but a religion: a covenant entered into, a promise to be kept. It comes one-size-fits-all, and it camouflages flaws like nothing else. How could it have taken this to make me see that Faith is the one thing in my life I got right in the very first try?