pictured a nursery filled with soft blankets and stuffed animals. I imagined reading bedtime stories, celebrating birthdays, and watching my daughter discover the world.

I also imagined my mother holding her granddaughter for the first time.

I thought Carol might become gentler with age.

Perhaps motherhood would finally help her understand me.

Perhaps becoming a grandmother would awaken a softer side of her personality.

When Lily arrived six weeks early, those hopes became even more important to me.

I remember the hospital room vividly.

The doctors spoke calmly, but I