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The first thing I remember after the delivery room chaos was the sound of machines.
Slow, mechanical beeping surrounded me in the ICU while pain spread through my chest every time I tried to breathe. The doctors later explained that my heart had stopped twice during childbirth after a catastrophic complication, and for several terrifying minutes they weren’t sure I would survive at all. Even after waking up, my body felt broken beyond recognition, my ribs bruised from the defibrillator, my abdomen stitched tightly enough that every movement burned like fire beneath my skin.
But despite everything my body had endured, my husband, Mark, acted as though I was simply inconveniencing him.
While I held continue reading …
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