Looking back, it was definitely postpartum. I should have seen someone about it, but I didn’t. My husband didn’t do anything about it. At least, not anything to help. He was, like, What’s wrong with you? Having a child is a totally natural part of being a woman—How could it possibly take that much out of you? My mom did it. Every woman does it. Get over it—he said, just laughing.” “Unbelievable.” I drank the last of my beer. “That was when I made up my mind. If this guy gets sick at some point, if he gets cancer, and he’s in real pain, I’ll be there when he’s dying, standing over him, looking
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