I went into cardiac arrest after delivering triplets. While I was unconscious in the ICU, my CEO husband stood in the hospital corridor and finalized our divorce. When a doctor told him, “Sir, your wife is in critical condition,” he barely reacted.

The divorce papers were signed under fluorescent lights that hummed above a hospital corridor thick with antiseptic and iron. Inside the ICU, I lay motionless, machines breathing for me after an emergency C-section delivered our premature triplets and nearly took my life. My body had flatlined for a moment. Long enough to terrify the doctors….

The school called: ‘Your daughter still hasn’t been picked up. It’s been three hours.’ I said, ‘I don’t have a daughter. I’m 28 and single.’ They replied, “Sir, please come in right away— or we’ll have to notify the proper authorities.” Completely confused, I drove there and walked straight into the office. The little girl…

The school called. “Your daughter hasn’t been picked up. It’s been three hours.” My name is Lena Hail. I’m twenty-eight years old. I’m an architect in Portland, Oregon. I always thought I was ordinary, the kind of woman whose life could be reduced to blueprints, coffee stains, and rain streaks on office windows. Then one  phone…