I remembered a respiratory therapist who stayed past her shift to show me how to hold Liam without disturbing his tubes.

I remembered driving home after discharge with four car seats and feeling as though the road had become a fragile ribbon stretched over a canyon.

“No,” I said.

“You weren’t.”

“Can I see photographs?”

His request startled me.

“Not right now,” I said.

“There will be time if we decide together how to move forward.”