Back in the Pyramid, we quietly return Mia to her room. She’s fast asleep in my arms. She passed out somewhere in the car, close to the hospital, and has been resting peacefully since.
Since we left, someone has come in and cleaned and sterilized Mia’s room. There is a fresh cover in her crib, and the laundry hamper has been cleared out.
Neil stays by the door as I lower Mia into her crib. For a moment, I stay there, peering down at her little sleeping body. She’s so small, so fragile. I’ve been around babies before, of course, and I know they are tougher than they look. But it’s hard not to be in awe of them.
This little girl is going to grow up to be a living, breathing, speaking, thinking adult. I almost can’t wait to see the person she turns into, though I don’t want to rush her eit
