It's the morning after birth, in the recovery room. My body feels destroyed. The incision burns, I can't sit up without help. I can't walk without a nurse.
This is motherhood. This is what nobody tells you.
The nurse helps me to the bathroom. Humiliating and painful. Every movement is agony.
Back to the bed. The machine beside me pumps breast milk. I'm lonely, for a baby I haven't held yet. Tubes, bottles, everything is clinical. Nothing beautiful.
Eleanor appears and brings my phone. Photos from NICU.
I break down. "He's so tiny. What if I can't protect him?"
"You already are. You're his mother."
"I don't feel like a mother. I feel broken."
"That's normal. Your body just did something impossible. Give it time."
I stare at the photo. My son, I haven't even held him yet.
"When ca
