ADVERTISEMENT
But Josh never backed down. He woke every night, fed them, held them, whispered to them like they understood.
Then Lila got sick. A congenital heart defect. Surgery was her only chance.
We spent six hours pacing, praying, waiting.
“It went well,” the surgeon finally said.
Josh broke down—raw, unguarded. And I saw it: he wasn’t just my son anymore. He continue reading …
ADVERTISEMENT