Perspective | I couldn’t give my premature son more time in utero, but I could nurture him
The sterile smell of antibacterial soap trailed us as my husband, Zach, wheeled me slowly toward the incubator containing our three-pound son. What would he look like? My one glimpse of Rowan in the operating room the night before had been of his face. The rest of his body had been bundled to replicate the warmth of my womb.