Seven hours later, I woke up.
The room was quiet, dimly lit. The steady beeping of the monitors was the only sound.
My body felt heavy, my throat dry. Every part of me ached, but I was alive.
Slowly, I turned my head. A nurse sat nearby, checking something on a clipboard. When she noticed me stirring, she smiled gently.
“You’re awake,” she said softly.
I swallowed, my throat burning. “Water…” I croaked.
She quickly poured a glass and helped me take a few small sips. The cool liquid soothed my throat, but I was still weak.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
I took a shaky breath. “Tired.”
She nodded. “That’s normal. You lost a lot of blood, but you’re stable now.”
My hand trembled as I reached for my stomach. “My babies?”
Her smile didn’t fade. “They’re okay.”
Relief washed over me.
