I didn’t want speeches about miracles or photographs arranged to prove how far Lucas had come.

I wanted Hope to be allowed to turn one without being made responsible for healing everyone around her.

The morning of the party, Hannah asked me to come early.

I found her in the nursery, folding a little dress over the back of the rocking chair.

The green walls were crowded now with pictures: Hope lying on a colorful play mat, Hope grinning at Mason, Hope reaching toward a wooden toy with fierce concentration.

Some photographs were from appointments and therapy visits.