hospital.

I remembered the monitors, the quiet nurses, and the endless hours spent wondering whether our little girl would be strong enough to come home.

I remembered the first time Lily wrapped her fingers around mine.

I remembered the tears in Evan’s eyes when we finally carried her through our front door.

And I looked at my mother, who knew all of those things.

She knew how frightened we had been.

She knew how much our daughter meant to us.

She knew how carefully we had celebrated every bit of