My daughter turns 10 this week. I'm swimming in a sea of memories of this week ten whole years ago, a week that commenced a season that changed everything for me.
The birth she imagined for herself had evaporated into a cloud of tubes and wires -- and now scalpels and anesthesia. As I sat and waited in that hallway, my love for her and our baby really was all-consuming.
Husband: "Did you read this NY Times article about this very grown-up, non-baby-related topic?" Me: "No, I haven't seen it. I was busy reading this work of fiction, containing no references whatsoever to childbirth."