left was cavernous. When the girls arrived six weeks early, they were so tiny their diapers looked like oversized blankets on their fragile frames. I spent my days in the NICU, the rhythmic beeping of monitors the only soundtrack to my prayers.
I sent photos to Daniel with trembling hands, my heart bursting with a mix of pride and desperation. I wanted him to see the life we had created, to feel the pull of fatherhood from across the ocean. I waited hours for a response, staring at my phone
