The nurse came into the waiting room, looked around, smiled broadly, and walked toward us. "I’ll have to look at your bracelet," she said with a grin, glancing from me, to my mother, to my oldest daughter, then back to me again, "but I know from the resemblance that you’re Megan’s mom."
I nodded, chuckled nervously, stood, and held out my arm, displaying the plastic hospital band. The smock-clad woman scrutinized it then led me into the recovery room.
"How are you, honey?" I asked the small girl in the large hospital bed.
"Mommy…" she murmured groggily, reaching for me.