I was standing in the women's aisle at the grocery store holding a pack of pads.
I had done this before with Maya and then with Ellie, so by now I knew the drill. Pads, chocolate, ibuprofen, something warm, something sweet, and an attitude like none of this was strange.
The cashier looked at the basket, then at me. "First time?" she asked.
"Third daughter," I replied.
She held up a box of gummies. "These help with cramps. And maybe a heating pad?"
I added both without arguing.
By then I was used to the quiet ways strangers recognized my life.
Single father. Five kids. No wife in sight.
The math showed itself. But none of them knew the first real night, the one when Natalie said she would be gone 15 minutes and left me standing in the kitchen with a baby on my hip and four children asking when Mommy was coming back.
