I was moping the floor and listening to a playlist I had made years ago. As "Here Comes the Sun" ended, I smiled to myself. I knew what was coming next.

Sun is shinin' in the sky
There ain't a cloud in sight

5, 4, 3,2…

"Mommy spin me!"

I laughed and picked up Lizzy, holding her tightly as I spun us around the small kitchen in our apartment. This was our routine and this was our song. Her curly bronze hair fanned out and she squealed with glee. I loved this. I loved smothering my daughter with love. Making sure she knew how cherished she was.

I had dreamed of having a daughter since I was twelve. I had longed for a mother/daughter relationship full of all of the love and security I never had with Renee. I would teach her about science, we could talk about boys and bullying, art and fashion and just…life. I had a few girl friends that talked with their moms about losing their virginity. I couldn't imagine doing that with Renee, but I had always fantasied about that relationship with a daughter of my own.

It's stopped rainin' everybody's in the play
And don't you know
It's a beautiful new day, hey hey

I thought back to a rainy day in Indiana four years ago.

I was standing in the doorway of Lizzy's nursery. It was decorated in a forest theme with drawings and paintings of woodland creatures adorning the walls. Most of the drawings I had done myself. The crib was set up, along with a changing table and dresser filled with onesies and girly dresses. I had insisted that she would wear colors other than pink and purple, so many of her clothes were made for boys, much to the ire of my wildly traditional family. She had a bookshelf set up, already filled with all of the classics from Dr. Suess, Margaret Wise Brown, Sandra Boynton and Mo Willems. We planned on raising a reader.

Mr. Blue Sky please tell us why
You had to hide away for so long (so long)
Where did we go wrong?

My pregnancy was terribly timed. I was in my second year of a grueling PhD program in biochemistry and a baby would make things much harder if not impossible. But Edward and I were overjoyed. We had been trying to conceive for six years.

Edward came down the hallway to stand next to me. He dropped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I looked up at his red-rimmed eyes and he gently kissed my forehead.

" We will still be a family…even without children" he whispered.

My knees buckled and I began weeping. Edward caught my body and held me tightly to him. I could hear the sobs rack through his chest.

I was seven months pregnant and today we went in for a routine ultrasound. We weren't even supposed to see our obstetrician, but after several silent minutes of the ultrasound tech moving the wand back and forth across my huge belly she abruptly stood and told us she needed to get a doctor.

Many tense minutes later, the room was filled with an army of doctors, and the ultrasound tech went back to moving the wand back and forth across my belly. They all stood silently watching the screen, then agreed to discuss what they saw in the hallway leaving Edward and I alone in the room confused and scared.

Our doctor came back in and told us that Lizzy had hydrops fetalis along with calcification of her liver and heart. She wasn't moving, though her heart was still beating. I prided myself on my education and intelligence, but the doctor could have been speaking a foreign language for all I understood.

It was a Friday and the specialists at the children's hospital in Indianapolis had left for the weekend. They would likely perform an emergency caesarian on Monday despite being two months out from my due date. We were sent home with the instructions to count Lizzy's kicks every hour and to return to the emergency room if they fell below ten/hour.

Edward rushed us home. Upon entering our home, we did what came naturally to two scientists and started researching. I read several NIH articles about hydrops fetalis. The news wasn't good. Ninety percent of babies with the diagnosis were stillborn.

I would by all probabilities be delivering a corpse on Monday.

We didn't sleep that weekend. Even if the nerves had let us sleep, the instructions to count Lizzy's kicks would not allow for sleep. At the end of each hour we would nervously wait, only to get the final, sacred, tenth kick just in time. We would celebrate that our daughter was still alive for a few minutes, then start counting all over again.

Monday went better. The doctors said that they believed Lizzy could stay in the womb just a little bit longer, but in all likelihood she would be delivered early. I would go to the hospital three times a week for non-stress tests and to Riley's Children's Hospital in Indianapolis once a week. We left feeling an iota better with strict instructions to count Lizzy's movements and to go to the emergency room if they ever fell below ten/hour.

Edward and I spend the next month and a half counting to ten over and over and over again. We spent most of our time away from work and school lying in bed binge watching the Flash, Edward behind me with a hand draped across my belly. I would try to focus on the adventures of Barry Allen but at the end of every hour, I would hear Edward release a nervous sigh when we hit number ten.

Lizzy was born two weeks early via emergency c-section. Vaginal delivery was not an option with her frail state. The doctors warned me that she might need to be resuscitated and not to expect her to cry. We prepared for the worst. When they pulled her out the room fell silent and a few seconds passed before we heard a weak but clear cry.

Hey you with the pretty face
Welcome to the human race
A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky's up there waitin'
And today is the day we've waited for

I twirled and twirled around our tiny apartment kitchen. Holding Lizzy's head close to my chest in fear that I might lose my balance and hit a cabinet. I knew I wouldn't. I was well practiced at this dance, but I couldn't help but fear for the worst.

Edward and I had won the lottery when it came to Lizzy. She not only beat the odds and survived, she was thriving.

Mr. Blue, you did it right
But soon comes Mr. Night creepin' over
Now his hand is on your shoulder
Never mind I'll remember you this
I'll remember you this way

I felt my chest tighten. I hated this part of the song. We never found out what caused Lizzy's illness. I lived in fear that one day it would return. I knew that Edward lived with these same fears. He knew better than anyone how loved ones could be ripped from you at a moment's notice.