But at the same time, I was crying because a small part of me was sad: How had I not known, until this moment, the pleasure of breathing? How had I not known that feeling air on my palms could be so comforting? How much pleasure had I missed because I was too in my head to pay attention? How often had I longed to leave all of this, to die, because I hadn’t understood how satisfying it could be? The tears started flowing even harder. Swaddled in a blanket, feeling utterly safe and comfortable, I felt…cradled. As if someone was taking care of me, flooding me with kindness and generosity and
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