Some things are scalpels
By December of 2007, it felt like the smoke was beginning to clear. My mother-in-law was in remission. My newborn son was home from the neonatal intensive care unit. He was still a peanut. A tiny 6 pounds. But he was healthy and gaining weight.
And with him at home, it felt like the storm had broken.
The holiday season was upon us. The collective l…
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