Naomi's POV

They say you remember the moment your child is born in snapshots.

Not the whole picture.

Not a video.

Just pieces.

The flash of an overhead light.

The tremble of a gloved hand.

The sterile chill of a room that doesn’t feel ready for something so… sacred.

That’s how it started.

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They wheeled me into the operating room just before sunrise. I remember the pale yellow walls and the buzz of soft classical music playing somewhere near the ceiling.

My body was ...