The passing of weeks made it evident that Kat was not bouncing back from childbirth the way most women did. She remained pale and weak and barely able to get out of bed with assistance for a few minutes here and there. She insisted she was not in much pain, but Henry suspected she’d become accustomed to a certain degree of pain; either that or she was lying in an attempt to be brave. Dr. Cowell told Henry it was probably a little of both. While the cancerous growth had not visibly changed much in months, the doctor suspected more and more from her symptoms that it was likely spreading inside of her body where they couldn’t see it. They had been blessed to not have it adversely affect her pregnancy, and they were all keenly aware of the miracle of Harry’s existence. But bearing a child had taken its toll on Kat, and it seemed that in her weakened state the cancer was quickly taking over.

The family all tried to continue on as they had before—not talking about the cancer in front of Kat unless she chose to bring it up, which happened rarely. But they were all concerned, and the inevitable seemed to be creeping ever closer and increasingly beyond their control. It came up in conversation often when Kat was not present, but more and more there was nothing to say that hadn’t been said many times already. Kat was dying and they all knew it. None of them wanted her to suffer, but neither did they want to lose her. It seemed that both were inevitable.

The great light in the midst of this unspeakable heartache was little Harry. With the perfect innocence of his new life, he radiated a glow of hope and happiness that helped them all keep perspective. He also kept them all gratefully distracted from Kat’s worsening health. If Kat was awake, the baby was with her, and while she slept each member of the family took turns holding him, often joking that he rarely if ever was not in someone’s arms, and he would become so accustomed to sleeping while being held that getting him to sleep in his own bed eventually might prove impossible. But nobody cared. Holding Harry, whether awake or asleep, was a soothing balm for all of them.

A wet nurse had to be hired to feed Harry when it quickly became evident Kat wouldn’t be able to do so. But she was a kind, sensitive woman who fit nicely into the household, as did the nanny, who was always on hand to help but never intrusive on the family’s desire to care for the baby as much as possible and to give Kat every opportunity to spend time with her son.