Guest Post by Sara Cormany

I remember the day he took my breath away. It began like most, I suppose. With my feet dangling over the side of an exam table, her fingers clickety clacking away at the computer and his voice posing the question as it had a million times before, On a scale of 1-10, how is the pain here and here and here...

Every morning, she greets me—a quiet joy to meet the breaking of the night.

I peek through her door to see her little face peering over the edge of the crib. Sometimes bright and clear-eyed, waiting for the door to be opened wide. Sometimes a little punch drunk from the sudden snap of an interrupted slumber. But always met with her mama’s Hello, my love!

It is a greeting quickly answered with a half-cocked smile and little arms up as if to say, It’s time!