“You were already anxious. You couldn’t sleep. You were scared about becoming a mother. I thought if I told you—”
“So you made the decision for me?”
“I was afraid you might make a decision you’d regret.”
I laughed bitterly through my tears.
“Look what I just did.”
Brian went silent.
Then I pushed past him.
Inside the nursery, my twins were lying beside each other.
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They were tiny.
So unbelievably tiny.
One was sleeping.
The other was awake, moving her hand slowly beneath the blanket.
I walked closer.
For the first time since giving birth, I really looked at them.
Not at the diagnosis.
Not at the future I was terrified of.
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At them.
My daughters.
Baby A had a little crease between her eyebrows.
Baby B had the roundest cheeks I had ever seen.
As I leaned over the crib, one tiny hand moved toward the other.
