It was two years before I was born. It was one year before my husband was born. His parents had not met yet. When they would meet, in 1987, they would fall in love quickly. Not instantly, but quickly and deeply. The story of his beginning, and of his childhood, was happy.

I waited. Two years were left to pass before I could make any decision.

My husband's mother was young. She seemed kind, but I could not get much of a sense of her personality, no matter how much I watched her. She was a private person. Reserved. Even...