I was certain she was remembering the same conversation I was. Back when we first became friends, I asked her if Millie was short for Amelia. We’d been lying in the grass out by the quad during lunch. Staring up through the bare branches of the tree above us, Millie got this wistful look on her face. She said something like, Can you imagine me as an Amelia? What kind of life would I have? I’d probably wear bows in my hair and cute dresses. Have two parents who love me, and a room decorated in all pink.

I’d laughed then, but I honestly thought it sounded amazing.

No, my real name’s not Millie, she explained. It’s Tawny Milligan. But a childhood friend used to call me Millie and it just stuck.

That night in the hospital room, Millie told me that she believed my Amelia would have that life we’d fantasized about.

It was when Millie made her way over to the bassinet that I first noticed something was wrong. She noticed it too. Reaching into the bassinet, I grabbed my baby out. She wasn’t breathing.

I didn’t want to believe it. It didn’t even seem possible. How could a healthy baby just die?

She was so still. Cold.

I looked for any signs of life, but there were none. I knew then that there was no bringing her back. And it felt like my heart had been ripped out. It was way worse than when we lost Kevin or when Millie was torn from my life.

I remember I kept rocking back and forth, muttering “oh, my God” under my breath. I wanted to scream. To yell. But it was like my body wouldn’t let me. Like that reaction was so foreign I wouldn’t know how to attempt it. Millie said I was in shock. I’d never felt pain like I did in that moment. It was all-consuming. Honestly, I wanted to die too. I had no idea how I’d ever get past it.

The horror, the reality, began to set in and I began to panic out loud. I told Millie to push the nurse’s button because she was closer.

But Millie got this strangled look on her face—a mixture of pain, grief and then stubborn resolution—and told me to stay calm. To stay quiet. She dragged the curtain closed around my bed. I didn’t know why. I’m not even sure I fully registered it at that moment, I was so fixated on my baby.

And then she presented me with a crazy plan.

A plan to switch our babies.

Of course, I said no at first. I didn’t want her baby. I wanted mine.

“But yours is gone,” Millie pointed out. “Nothing you can do will bring her back.”