You were out by the stables with your newborn son, Sam, in your arms. Your tomboyish eight-year-old, Anna, was running around the field with the cows while Mike, your husband, was hauling some hay into the horse stables. Your older two kids were sleeping in.

Mike comes over, rubbing his hands on his worn jeans as he hugs you from behind. “How’s the little one? He doin’ okay?” he asks, looking off and smiling at Anna.