A boy.
We named him Noah.
He entered the world red-faced and furious, with fists no bigger than bottle caps and a cry that sounded far too powerful for something so tiny.
Emily cried when the nurse laid him on her chest.
I cried too, though I turned my head because my mother was in the room and I still had that old habit of pretending I was tougher than I really was.
My mother, Linda, stood near the foot of the hospital bed with her hands folded together. Momsupport network
My younger sister, Ashley, kept taking pictures.
Everyone smiled.
Everyone said the right things.
My mother touched Emily’s forehead and said, “You rest now. We’ll help you.”
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