The hospital called and said a little boy had listed me as his emergency contact. I laughed nervously and said, “That’s impossible. I’m 32, single, and I don’t have a son.”

for me by name from a hospital bed, and I couldn’t just ignore that.

Twenty minutes later, I walked into St. Agnes with damp hair, mismatched socks, and a heart pounding so hard I felt it in my throat. A nurse named Maribel met me at the desk.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. “He’s in room twelve. Before you go in, I need to ask—do you recognize the continue reading …