Chapter 18 - The First Cry
Then our daughter cried.
It wasn't a movie-perfect scream. It was small and furious, like a kitten arguing with the world. I started crying too. Daniel made a sound beside me that was half laugh, half prayer.
The pediatric team checked her while the surgeons finished caring for me. A nurse brought her close enough for me to see a damp curl against her forehead and a tiny fist opening under the blanket.
"Hello, June," I whispered.
We'd chosen the name months ago, on a rainy afternoon when Daniel had still made me feel like I could tell him everything.
In recovery Mara brushed my hair from my forehead. Daniel sat with his hands folded, looking older than he had that morning. He asked permission before taking pictures. I said yes to one for us, not for the family group chat. He put his phone away afterward.
A nurse brought June for skin-to-skin contact when it was safe. She settled against me, warm and real. I'd been told for months that my instincts were selfish, that my boundaries were cruel, that I would need someone stronger to make choices for my child. Yet here she was, breathing against my chest while the room honored the words I'd spoken.
A staff member later confirmed that Linda had tried to obtain an update at the desk. No information had been given. Daniel thanked the staff instead of apologizing for his mother's behavior.
That evening he looked at June and said, "She deserves better than what I did."
"So do I," I said.
May you like
He closed his eyes. "There's something about the waiting room I didn't tell you. I should have said it the day it happened."
I watched June's fingers curl around mine. "Then say it without explaining it away."
