The Night Before I Gave Birth, I Heard My Husband Pay a Doctor to Make Sure I Never Left the Delivery Room. He Thought I Was Asleep
It was the sheer animal relief of a mother who had carried her child through a night designed to end them both, and come out the other side into daylight with the child alive and shrieking on her body.
Every plan I had made, every copy I had sent, every cold clear calculation of the long dark hours — all of it had been in service of this one thing, this exact weight, this furious healthy noise.
I had not fought to win.
Winning was almost beside the point.
I had fought so that she would get to be born into a world that had a mother in it.
And she had.