“This is your grandchild, Maya,” I say. “You have a daughter,” my mom says, glancing at me, and now her emotion is choking her up once more. “Do you want to hold her?” I ask. She nods, looking like she’s about to cry all over again. I glance at my husband. War hesitates, his eyes dropping to our daughter. He takes protectiveness to a whole new level with his daughter. To be fair, Maya looks equally unenthusiastic about leaving his arms. But eventually, he hands our daughter over.
