It was nearly one year ago in this same building that I saw her for the first time. She was lying inside the transparent box that kept her warm and protected from the elements. Her legs were folded stiffly, creasing her new body in half, her sweet misshapen feet lingering permanently by her ears. She had an open spine then — one that had grown outside of her back as her body was forming itself in the womb. A team of surgeons had just enclosed the nerve endings safely inside her body, and fresh, moist wrappings protected the affected area. So she was on her side, my little girl.
I am in the waiting room again.
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