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"Push, push," the midwife screamed as I bawled to get the baby out. My hands were tired from grasping the hospital bed. My head was thrown up, and sweat dripped down my scowled forehead. It felt like I was going to die, there was no doubt. This baby, this poor baby, would have to be given up. The more I thought, the more agonizing each effort became.
Feb 12, 2018 | 32 min read
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