Between Bruises and Blooms

I didn’t quit because I stopped needing it.

I quit because tiny hands needed me more.

There are nights when sleep still hides, when food still tastes like cardboard, when anxiety paces the hallway inside my mind.

And sometimes I remember the little green flower that once taught my lungs how to breathe again.

But motherhood has a way of changing every calculation.

So I traded comfort for caution.

Not forever.

Just for now.

Because love sometimes sounds like,

“Not tonight.”