The six hours had stretched into an agonizing eternity. The cold was a constant, vicious enemy, creeping into my bones and tightening the muscles around my abdomen.

The contractions were no longer sporadic anxieties; they were structured, relentless waves of pain, each one a stark reminder of the impossibility of my situation. I sat with my back pressed against the weeping concrete, focusing solely on breathing and on the quiet movements of my twins.

The pain. It’s a vicious cycle now, a ...