(Kealen)
Day four, and I still couldn't get out of bed without holding onto something.
That was the part nobody talked about. The after. The specific, humbling reality of a body that had done something enormous and was now presenting the bill.
Kiara was in the bassinet three feet from the bed. She was fine — Mira checked her twice a day, her lungs were clear, she was eating, she was gaining the weight she needed to gain. Eight weeks early and she was already proving to have opinions about things.
I, on the other hand, could not walk to the bathroom without my legs suggesting they were considering retirement.
"You had a complicated birth," Mira said, on day two, when I'd tried to stand up too fast and had to sit immediately back down.
"I've had a complicated year," I said.
"Your body
