I Cloak Myself in Radiation and Watch Her Give

Holding a blanket from my youngest in the hospital last month.

“She’s going to need a led covering,” the tech had warned, to which we shrugged like familial, familiar soldiers.

“Yeah she might want to have babies one day,” I replied awkwardly, “Or have a working thyroid.”

My 14-year-old looked at me appalled that I had referenced anything remotely related to procreation (just whisper the word “puberty” in the ear of any teenager and watch them fight-or-flight), but she’s actually spent the better part of her life dreaming about being a mother one day so it was a joke that wasn’t really a joke.