The nursery was filled with the sharp, clinical scent of cardboard and the heavy, suffocating weight of my own exhaustion. At nine months pregnant, my world had narrowed down to the size of a nursery floor, where I sat surrounded by the scattered hardware of a crib I was physically unable to assemble alone. My husband, Ryan, remained in the other room, his attention entirely consumed by a football game and a cold beer, leaving me to navigate the… Continue Reading ⬇️

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