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“You’ll suffer naturally because you’re toxic,” my doctor husband sneered, blocking the nurses from performing a C-section for my giant 10-pound baby as revenge for his intern. I writhed in pain, clutching the bed rails until my knuckles turned white. When the grueling delivery finally ended, the heavy delivery room doors banged open. My husband staggered in, his face drained of color as he looked at the newborn chart, fell to the floor, and shrieked, “No… that’s impossible! Whose child is-“

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haze. The labor contractions had long since ceased being mere spasms; they had morphed into the sensation of a runaway locomotive systematically pulverizing my pelvic floor with every agonizing crest. Each suffocating wave ushered in the sickening, wet sound of tearing tissue and a fresh, blistering tide of blood.

Trapped immovably within the birth continue reading …

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