I named him Jude.

The second was a girl with a furious little expression and a surprisingly strong grip.

I named her Wren.

The third was a boy whose tiny hand curled around the nurse’s finger.

He became Oliver.

All three needed specialized care because they were premature.

They had equipment beside their beds, careful feeding plans, and teams who watched them constantly.

I was able to see them after recovering from surgery, and I stood beside their incubators feeling both more powerful and more helpless than I ever had in my life.