I know that I should just trust my instincts and be at peace with my decision. I was, after all, choosing on the side of caution, and that’s what mothers naturally do. And yet, I can’t help but wish that I might have focused on the 60% chance that everything would be fine. All of the preemie moms I met in the hospital have gone on to have healthy second babies. Around and around I go, second-guessing that decision. I tell myself that I should have simply accepted the risk and the subsequent sleeplessness and chaos because it’s worth it. Siblings have each other for a lifetime.