When I was 7 months into pregnancy, my Dad had a stroke. He was in critical condition. I was so close to losing my father it was the scariest feeling. I spent every moment I could by his side looking after him. When he got better, I went into bed rest. Then it was time to look after my baby. Would she be alright? I took painful shots to mature her lungs in case she was worn premature. I was again deeply scared and did everything to care for her; completely stopped to nest and look after this tiny unborn baby. 2.5 years on today, they are both here, doing wonderfully. And they sure love each other. Looking at them interact these days, immediately brings back an intense, joyful feeling of Hope. Everytime.