You weave your fingers through my hand pushing me back forcefully into the stiffness of the sterile linens
My body is rocked by pain and I seek the peace of regulated breathing/
But I can't.
The pain comes again and again in waves
and crashes
Time gets jumbled with the urgent movement of people who move together in a choreographed ritual of pushing buttons and recording vitals
You prop up my back and plant affection on my hairline/
Passing your will to me
Bearing down, he flees my body
His cries welcome me to Motherhood
His mouth cups my breast
We are home.
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