Hannah was afraid, and I was afraid.

Every unfamiliar pause made me remember the October morning when people had spoken cautiously about whether either of them would survive.

But this time Hannah could ask questions.

This time she could tell someone what she needed.

This time the people beside her listened.

When they placed Lily in her arms, Hannah looked down and began to cry.

“Is she all right?”

The clinical staff gave her the answer we had waited months to hear.