As I walked into Zain’s room, I saw him lying in a bed that was much too big for him. He was eating orange sorbet, and a nurse was sitting beside him, talking to him. He had three little thin bandages across the cut on his forehead. A flood of adrenaline came over me and I rushed into the room.
“Zain! My baby,” I exclaimed as I ran over to him.
“Mommy!” He lit up like a Christmas light. I wanted to scoop him up and hug him as tightly as I could. I wanted to hold him forever and never let him go. I didn’t because I wasn’t sure if he was hurt anywhere else. Instead, I ruffled his messy blonde hair. All the triplets had blonde hair like their dad used to have. The nurse smiled at me. She had kind eyes, and her expression was not judgmental as many of the others had looked.
“Hi, Ms. Whitlo
