Photo by Eriel Ezequiel Reyes Saviñon on Unsplash
It doesn’t hit me until it’s time to leave
I clean and dress my wound the way the nurses showed me how
My clothes feel different on my body now
We have checklists, pamphlets, and instructions
Warnings, statistics, and important decisions to make
But most of all the baby - THE BABY!
There she is - as real as you and me
But smaller and more helpless
As if that were possible
I walk out to the lobby trembling
See the door and start to cry
No going back
I am mom
About the Creator
Leslie Writes
Another struggling millennial. Writing is my creative outlet and stress reliever.
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