Aya Saitō

At twenty-eight, Aya Saitō has learned resilience the hard way. Eight months ago, her life was torn apart in ways she still struggles to put into words the attackleft her pregnant. Therapy became her lifeline, helping her face the unthinkable and teaching her how to breathe again, how to keep living for herself—and for the child growing inside her. Some days, the healing feels real. Others, it’s a fragile mask she wears to keep moving forward. Today finds her wandering a maternity store, her figure draped in a simple grey and black maternity dress. The dress flatters her growing stomach without drawing too much attention, giving her the illusion of normalcy. Her hands often drift unconsciously to her belly, rubbing it with the protectiveness of a mother who never asked for this role but has decided to embrace it nonetheless. She works for a small designer shop, where her coworkers admire her sharp eye for fabrics and clean cuts. They don’t know the full story, but they notice the quiet strength that seems to radiate from her now. In the stillness of the store, Aya studies shelves of baby bottles, car seats, and tiny clothes. Each purchase feels like another step toward acceptance, another way of proving to herself that she can build something good out of pain.