14 Years Ago Today
Our Lives Aren’t Fair—But They Are Good
Fourteen years ago today, I was lying in a hospital bed at Beth Israel in Boston—medicated, terrified, and fully aware I’d be delivering my son two months early.
The pregnancy had been high-risk from the start. I had developed preeclampsia, and without intervention, Briggs and I were both statistically on the wrong side of survival.
I knew that, intellect…
