Lulu

The baby was still red and scrunched up when Sandra placed him in my arms. He cried loudly, tiny fingers spreading as if reaching for my chest.

He was so small. But the gratitude I felt for bringing him into the world was enormous.

His little hand moved slowly, searching. Reflex. I stared at him without blinking. My heart hammered hard in my chest, and this strange fear crept in—like he might stop breathing if I stopped watching him.

“Feed him, Lulu,” Sandra said softly. “He needs ...