I passed an ambulance coming out of our neighborhood today, and I was instantly transported back to that night when the twins were ten days old and Little Man stopped breathing. I was there again, in the ambulance, strapped to the gurney with my 10-day-old son in my arms. Thirty minutes before, I had found him-- limp and blue-- in the bassinet beside our bed. All the emotions I felt while we fought to keep our boy alive came flooding back, and I drove the rest of the way home in tears.
I wonder how long it will be like this.
