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I can't stop thinking about my old roommate. I can't imagine her pain. It's so easy to feel sorry for yourself in the hospital that sometimes I forget why I'm really here. I'm here because I want to have two healthy babies, a privilege my roommate was sadly not granted. It's not a given. While I don't subscribe to any all-self-sacrificing model of motherhood, the death of this born-too-soon child reminds me that giving birth to a human being is not really about me.

Though I'm sure I'll be back to complaining in no time. Come on, nobody's perfect, and pregnancy can be hard. But as long as I can remember what an honor — and responsibility — it is to be blessed with these two boys every so often, I think I might be an okay parent.