I spent so much time with my arms pressed against the edges of her plastic isolette that I can still feel the dents.
“Breathe, Lucy. Breathe.”
Our 2-day-old daughter, spindly and alive, lay on her back in a tiny hospital bed in the ICU. The nurses had put soft white cuffs on Lucy’s wrists. When my husband first wheeled me into the ICU, unable to walk a…
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