Three months.
Three months of bottles and laundry and lullabies, of pacing the tiny apartment in slow circles at two in the morning, of measuring her own life in tiny milestones that no one outside these four walls would ever care about. The first smile. The first time he held his own head up. The first time he had grabbed her finger with such ridiculous strength that she had laughed out loud in surprise.
Three months of inside.
And on the morning Erin finally woke up, looked at the patch of warm spring sunlight on her bedroom floor, and decided that today was the day — she felt something she had not felt in a very, very long time.
She felt brave.
"You're sure?" Jenna asked, for the third time, hovering anxiously in the kitchen doorway.
"I'm sure."
"Because we could just go to the p
