Chapter 5: The Taxi
The tears came instantly.
Huge, uncontrollable sobs.
The kind that start somewhere deep and rip their way out before you can stop them.
The nurse led me back inside.
She sat me down.
Got me water.
Asked if she should call my mother, a friend, a social worker — anyone.
I shook my head.
I was too exhausted to explain how humiliating it felt.
Eventually, she called a taxi herself.
Then she helped secure the infant carrier because my hands were trembling too badly to manage it.
The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror.
“You okay, ma’am?”
“No.”
That single word triggered another wave of tears.
The ride home felt endless.
Every bump in the road sent pain through my body.
Halfway there, my daughter began crying, and I stretched awkwardly against my seatbelt just to touch her tiny hand.
As I sat there, I kept thinking the same thing.
This was her first ride home.
And this was what she would never remember.
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