I was standing at the grocery store checkout with my six-month-old granddaughter pressed against my chest when my card was declined. The beeping of the register felt like a siren announcing my humiliation. A few people in line laughed, others muttered cruel comments about “people who can’t afford kids,” and someone sighed loudly as if I was intentionally wasting their time. At seventy-two, exhausted and barely making ends meet, I wished I could sink through the floor. Raising a baby at my age
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