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Weekly Contest #56
Everything is wet. Is it sweat? Did I pee myself again? Is it breastmilk? What time is it? Breathe. I hear a whimper. I go to sit up but everything still hurts. I grunt and pull myself up to the edge of our bed, leaning over the crib. I wrap my hands around our tiny creature. It's 3:07am. A sacred time for all moms with newborns. It's the darkest, quietest, and loneliest hour of the night, even in a city like Paris. 3am is the time where all mamas unite, sitting up in our beds drenched in mysterious fluids, nourishing our babies while ...
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