Some things are scalpels

MoP#9

By December of 2007, it felt like the smoke was beginning to clear. My mother-in-law was in remission. My newborn son was home from the neonatal intensive care unit. He was still a peanut. A tiny 6 pounds. But he was healthy and gaining weight.

And with him at home, it felt like the storm had broken.

The holiday season was upon us. The collective l…