Waking Up Heavy

In recovery, everything felt like concrete—arms, legs, head. A nurse set him on my chest and said something cheerful I couldn’t process. “Can someone hold him for a bit? I need to sleep,” I whispered. She glanced around. “I’ll see if your family is here.” I already knew they weren’t.

The One Who Stayed

Brandon—my ex—was there. We had split three months earlier after too much stress and distance. Somehow, he was the only person in the room with me. He held the baby as I drifted in and out, changed diapers, watched the monitors like they were a lifeline. I didn’t have the energy to talk much, but I kept thinking, I never expected it to be him.