In twenty-seven hours I witnessed the only two things guaranteed to every single human being:birth and death. To experience the emotions associated with both events, the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows, in a little more than a day, well, it was ruinous.

I tried to shake away the tears as I sat there thinking about how close to perfect those twenty-seven hours were. Our love, our jobs, our travels, our house in Los Angeles, our fruit trees, and finally, our beautiful baby girl; these were the things we’d been working toward, and we had finally achieved then all the moment Madeline was born. Twenty-seven hours of pure happiness. I felt so fucking lucky to have had even that short amount of time, and I was positive Liz died confident that we had achieved all we had set out to. But I couldn’t help thinking that we were robbed of a lifetime of true happiness. Twenty-seven hours wasn’t enough –but really, forever wouldn’t have been, either