Extremely exhausted Mom MELONA hug big child MINO pulling newborn reverse very pain with hopeless


 

Melona could hardly keep her eyes open. Every breath felt heavy, every movement a small battle against the weight of sleepless nights. Her body ached from carrying the newborn, her arms trembling from the constant need to hold, to soothe, to feed. Yet even in her exhaustion, she moved forward—because she was a mother.

Mino, her older child, ran toward her, calling, “Mama!” His little arms reached out, demanding a hug that only she could give. Melona bent down, her back protesting, but she opened her arms wide. Mino pressed his warm cheek against her chest, clinging tightly as if afraid she might disappear. The newborn, cradled in her other arm, began to cry—a thin, fragile sound that sliced through the quiet. Melona shifted her weight, trying to balance both children, feeling her spine pull and twist in pain.

The moment stretched long. She wanted to cry, to sit down and let the world fade away, but there was no pause button for motherhood. The reverse pull of caring for two—one so small, one growing so fast—felt like being torn between past and future. Her heart was full, but her hope flickered weakly, dimmed by exhaustion.

Tears welled in her eyes, not from sadness alone, but from the endless giving, the aching beauty of love that demanded everything. Mino looked up, confused by her silence, and wrapped his arms tighter around her. That small gesture—the weight of his love—kept her standing.

Melona inhaled deeply, kissed both their heads, and whispered, “It’s okay, Mama’s here.” Her voice shook, her body trembled, but in that moment, even in pain and hopelessness, she found a fragile kind of strength—the quiet power of a mother who keeps going, no matter how broken she feels.

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