It was Sarah.
The moment I answered, I knew something was wrong.
She was crying.
“Mom, please,” she said between shaky breaths. “I need to go to the hospital. Can you come watch the kids?”
I sat up in bed.
My first thought wasn’t about Sarah.
It was about the children.
Three toddlers.
Three children under five.
All asleep.
My husband was sixty and had struggled with his back for years. The thought of chasing three little children around the house all night immediately overwhelmed me.
“Sarah,” I said, “can’t
