I was only eighteen when I got married—not because I felt ready, but because I was terrified. Terrified of judgment, of disappointing my family, and of facing the world alone while pregnant. My boyfriend promised we would “figure it out,” and I held onto those words like they could save me. But my pregnancy became difficult almost immediately. Every doctor visit brought more concern, more warnings, more fear. When my baby was finally born, the delivery room fell painfully quiet. There was no joyful cry, only hurried whispers and worried faces as nurses carried my baby away before I could truly hold them.
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