[She picks at her food, msotly for something to do. It's hard, dealing with this. She'd only had a week to get used to the idea of the concept at all. She'd been expecting to have to go with her daughter, to leave her husband behind and give birth in a strange world, and adapt, and make sure they could find everyone in 28 years.
A week wasn't enough to come to accept that she'd had to give her up, that in 28 years she'd see her for the second time, and she'd have grown up without them. Snow had no idea what she was supposed to say, that she was sorry? That she loved her? That she was happy to see her?
And then there were so many things she wanted to know. Did she have a good family? Was she loved? Had she been happy? Was she married? She wanted to know about Henry, and about what Emma thought of them.
But she had nowhere to start, and irrationally, it made her feel like a failure. What kind of mother didn't know how to connect with her own daughter, years between them or not?]
You're welcome. [So...That was a start. A little awkwardly] It must be strange, to suffer coming to two different worlds, in such a short time.
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A week wasn't enough to come to accept that she'd had to give her up, that in 28 years she'd see her for the second time, and she'd have grown up without them. Snow had no idea what she was supposed to say, that she was sorry? That she loved her? That she was happy to see her?
And then there were so many things she wanted to know. Did she have a good family? Was she loved? Had she been happy? Was she married? She wanted to know about Henry, and about what Emma thought of them.
But she had nowhere to start, and irrationally, it made her feel like a failure. What kind of mother didn't know how to connect with her own daughter, years between them or not?]
You're welcome. [So...That was a start. A little awkwardly] It must be strange, to suffer coming to two different worlds, in such a short time.