“I’m afraid I’ll hold him wrong,” he admitted.

“Then ask,” she said gently.

He did.

He supported Oliver’s head and settled him against his chest.

For a while they just looked at one another.

I watched from the doorway and felt grief for the moment I had imagined during my pregnancy: my husband leaning over the hospital bed, thrilled to see our child for the first time.

That moment was gone.

What stood in its place was smaller and more honest.