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It was March 11th, 1989, and I was standing outside the nursery in the Bradley County Hospital in Cleveland, Tennessee, looking through the glass at the bassinet labeled “Hardgrove”. The babies were lined up, as if in a display case at a high-end department store. The Hardgrove bassinet was the third from my left, and it held my second child, my first and only daughter, who was lying in a room among a dozen or so other little bundles of joy, tightly wrapped in receiving blankets like burritos in a Taco Bell to-go box.

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