Waiting

The phone rang at 6:30 this morning. "Samara's in labor and we're on our way to the hospital," my son-in-law Jay said. Samara is our "third daughter," the best friend since birth of Miranda, Jay's wife who happens to be our first daughter. Samara's mother and I were pregnant together thirty years ago, gave birth within thirteen weeks of each other, and the two girls have lived intertwined lives ever since. This photo shows Samara hugging Jeff, father of Miranda, husband of mine, just seconds after "Sammy-hara," as Jeff has always called her, told us she was pregnant last December. Samara's in labor now, "pushing," a text message read about two hours ago, and I am going slightly crazy.