Two Months Later. 

“FUCK! Get them the fuck out of me!” I punctured Darian’s skin with my nails when I lifted my upper body off the bed and screamed at the doctor who sat between my legs. 

She was focused on the first baby’s head crowning. First. And then there were two more. The strikes of pain that shot up my legs turned into a tumble of rocks and nails in my stomach and continued like burning acid streaks up my chest and through my arms. Death would’ve been more ...