Little Hailey stirred against my collarbone and let out a soft sigh, and I gently tucked the soft edge of her swaddle so she wouldn’t wake up.

Austin watched my careful movements with a look of heartbreaking guilt and edged closer, as though just by speaking he had caused me physical pain.

“See, Mom?

Your cut still hurts really bad whenever you try to sit up straight or move your arms,” Austin said, pointing toward my shirt.

“What does my stomach have to do with any of this, Austin?” I asked, totally baffled by the connection he was making.

“The doctor at the clinic told you your body needed lots and lots of weeks to heal from the surgery,” Austin explained, his voice breaking.