childbirth
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It began with a whisper—a quiet pop,a timid trickle,so gentle I mistook the beginningfor an ordinary moment. Just after threeon a warm July afternoon,I stood to stretch my legs,never knowingmy world had already shifted. I called your father homewith uncertainty tangled in my voice.“Something’s changing,” I said,though neither of uscould yet imaginehow much. Between phone…
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October seventeenth,a date forever carvedinto the deepest corners of my heart. A morning that began with hope,with anticipation,with the promise of meeting my daughter. The world was asleepwhen I woke to the rhythm of contractions,each wave reminding me: She is coming. I welcomed the pain,believing every moment would disappearthe second I held her. And then,at…
Between Bruises and Blooms 