The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway flickered faintly as the nurses wheeled me into recovery. My body felt like it had been carved open and stitched back together with fire. My chest tightened as I looked down at the bundle in my arms—my newborn son, wrapped snugly in a hospital blanket, his tiny fists curled like seashells against his cheek. The Night I Held My Newborn Alone After Surgery While My Family Sipped Cocktails on the Beach—Six Weeks Later, They Called 88 Times Demanding $5,000”
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