She was right. I survived that first night and the next and the next. But surviving isn’t the same as thriving. At one month, I weighed barely six pounds. At 6 months, I still couldn’t hold up my own head. At one year, when other babies were standing and some were taking their first steps, I could barely sit upright.
The doctors my father brought in from Nachez, from Vixsburg, from as far away as New Orleans, all said the same thing: Premature birth had stunted my development in ways that would affect me for life
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