But by Friday night, reality hit us both. Emma wouldn’t stop crying. I tried feeding her, changing her, holding her in different positions, but nothing worked. My incision throbbed with every movement. The pain medication made me dizzy and nauseous. By midnight, I was sobbing along with my daughter.

“Maybe you should call your mom,” Marcus suggested gently. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes. “Just for a day or two, until you’re feeling stronger

.”