Walking out of that hospital with my healthy preemie in my arms, I knew two things:
My instincts were right. I would never step foot in that hospital again.
It wasn’t defiance.
It was clarity.
A kind of internal lock-in where all maternal, intellectual, and scientific circuits fused together.
Birth wasn’t something happening to me anymore.
It was something happening through me — and I was the navigator.
UnderTheRock Diaries 