The hospital room felt heavy with the sharp smell of antiseptic and the dense warmth that seems to surround a life that has just entered the world. I lay propped up against the pillows, my body sore from labor, the stitches pulling and exhaustion weighing down every muscle. Still, my attention was fixed on the edge of the bed.
Lina, my four-year-old, sat there looking impossibly small in her favorite red suspenders. Her ponytail leaned slightly to one side, loosened after hours spent waiting quietly in the hallway. Resting in her lap was a carefully wrapped bundle of white linen—her newborn sister.
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