"I see a baby," I said. "There's a baby coming." Through tears, she couldn't ask the hardest question. But I had the answer. "He's moving." And then the baby, our first child, Dylan, let out a wail like you've never heard before. Just bloody murder. The nurses smiled. "That's great," someone said. The preemies who come out limp often have the most trouble. But the ones who come out all pissed off and full of noise, they're the fighters. They're the ones who thrive. Dylan weighted two pounds, 15 ounces. His head was about the size of a baseball. But the good news was that he was breathing well on his own. Jai was overcome with emotion and relief. In her smile, I saw her blue lips fading back toward normal. I was so proud of her. Her courage amazed me. Had I kept her from going into shock? I don't know. But I had tried to say and do and feel everything possible to keep her with us. I had tried not to panic. Maybe it had helped.