When he holds our daughter now, I sometimes catch him staring at her with tears in his eyes. His voice trembles when he says softly, “I almost lost both of you.”
Those words don’t bring back what pride stole, but they remind us both of what nearly slipped away.
What Love Truly Means
Love isn’t about who’s right or wrong. It isn’t about keeping score or winning battles. It’s about showing up, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when your pride tells you not to.
Sometimes it takes almost losing the people we love to finally understand how fragile they are — and how much we need them.
Love isn’t always pretty. It’s messy, humbling, and full of hard lessons. But when it survives the breaking, it becomes something deeper.
It becomes the kind of love that wakes up at 3 a.m. to rock a baby back to sleep. The kind that apologizes without being asked. The kind that learns that softness isn’t weakness — it’s courage.
Now, when I look at my husband holding our daughter, I see the man I fell in love with — not perfect, not unflawed, but changed. And I see myself, too — stronger, more open, more grateful for the chance to begin again.
That night in the delivery room didn’t just bring our daughter into the world. It brought us back to each other.
And sometimes, that’s the most beautiful kind of rebirth there is.
