Twenty-Seven Minutes — The Day My Father Came for Us
When I hung up, he asked whether I wanted him to stay awake for the next feeding.
“I don’t want to keep you up all night.”
“Baby, I did night shifts when you were small.
And nobody is handing out medals for doing this alone.”
He stayed.
By morning, the hospital social worker had returned my voicemail.
I had asked for information about postpartum support and whether a spouse’s refusal to help after major surgery could be documented.
She listened carefully and connected me with community resources, a patient advocate, and a counselor who worked with new parents.