My husband leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“I should have stopped her sooner,” he said.
I reached for his hand.
“You weren’t in the room.”
“I left you with my mother because I thought you were safe.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
He looked at our son.
“I know that now.”
A nurse came in again to check the baby’s vital signs.
Everything remained stable.
That was the first real relief I had felt since waking up.
But the family problem had not disappeared.
My mother was still sitting across from me.
She hadn’t left.
After several minutes, she finally spoke.
“There is something else.”
My husband looked at her.
My mother twisted her hands together.
“Your mother called me before the birth.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“When?”
“A few days ago.”
“What did she want?”
My mother hesitated.
“She wanted me to watch you.”
