Forty days.
That was how my life began—
not in my mother's arms,
but inside a neonatal unit.
Surrounded by machines my eyes could not understand,
and hands trying to save me
without knowing who I would one day become.
I fought the fever.
And without knowing it…
I was learning my first truth:
Life is not as gentle as it seems.
Sometimes, when I think back to that story,
I smile.
As if God had placed me there first—
not as a memory,
but as the beginning of a path.
A path that would lead me back…
to the very same place.
But this time,
not as a child inside the incubator—
but as a nurse standing beside it.