"When you guys enter the nursery, wash your hands before holding the baby," they told us. And so, we did, first my husband and then me. I watched him stride through the door with determination, and I felt afraid. Our baby had been born prematurely, and we imagined her fragile in a glass box; I guess we had watched too many episodes of Grey's Anatomy. I finished washing my hands and paused for a moment to try to gauge my husband's reaction, but there was nothing. When I crossed the threshold, I saw him holding our sleepy daughter. There were no machines, no incubators; she didn't look weak, she was perfect.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
Not A Book Baby
Kısa HikayeDive into the heartfelt tales of our extraordinary journey into parenthood through surrogacy. This compilation of short stories, each around 110 words, offers intimate glimpses into the joys, challenges, and profound moments that define our path to...
