The Nurse Who Became the Light I Didn’t Know I Needed
I came closer to death the night my son was born than I ever had at any other moment in my life.
The delivery was brutal, the recovery worse, and for ten long days I lay in a hospital bed—sore, terrified, and completely alone. My family lived hours away, my husband was stuck overseas for work, and I felt abandoned in a way that cut far deeper than the physical pain.
But every night, when the halls grew quiet and the fluorescent lights dimmed, a gentle knock would sound on my door.
A nurse would slip inside—soft footsteps, warm eyes, that calm smile that made me believe I could breathe again. She would sit beside me, sometimes speaking, sometimes simply keeping me company as I cried without meaning to.
She always brought news about my baby in the NICU.
Tiny victories.
Tiny steps.
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