I looked at her, trying to figure out what was going on. Dehydration, a bad virus, and pure exhaustion had left me unable to think clearly. Something in my chest, however, relaxed when she said, “Your babies are safe,” as if a tight knot had finally given way.

My blood pressure dropped, the doctor explained, partly because I had the flu and partly because I had pushed myself too hard for too long. At last, my body had raised the white flag.

We must go back in time to comprehend how I got into that hospital bed, though, as what matters most is what transpired prior to that Monday.

Since they were two years old, Jesse and Lila had developed an obsession with the garbage truck. Naturally, it wasn’t the trash per se; rather, it was the engine’s roar, the route’s cadence, and the entire ritual. Like clockwork, they would put their noses to the window every Monday until I allowed them to run outside and observe. Read more below