I thought the hardest part of becoming a mother would be surviving the birth of my child. I was wrong. Eighteen hours of labor stretched me to the edge of everything I thought I could endure. My blood pressure surged, then dropped without warning. The steady rhythm of the monitors turned into sharp, frantic alarms, and I caught those fleeting, silent looks between doctors—the kind that say more than words ever could. “We need to get this baby out now,” Dr. Martinez said, her voice steady but urgent. I remember clutching Ryan’s hand so tightly I could feel the strain...
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