“I’ve Been A NICU Nurse For Thirteen Years, And I Almost Judged A Giant Tattooed Biker By His Hands. He Asked To Hold The Baby Nobody Had Come To Visit, And Sat In The Same Chair For Twelve Hours. Then A Nurse Noticed The Small, Faded Tattoo On His Wrist: A Name, And A Date.”

someone. At the door, he looked back. “Same time Thursday? I’m on the schedule.” The unit was quiet. Somewhere down the hall, a mother sang something low and tuneless to her daughter. Sarah stood next to me. “You know what gets me. He figured out how to give somebody else’s kid what he couldn’t give his own.”

Marcus came back Thursday, and the Thursday continue reading …