I kept one hospital glove from the night my grandson was born

Dear Delyara, My daughter nearly died giving birth. The baby was delivered safely, but she hemorrhaged afterward. I stood in the corridor while people ran into the room carrying equipment. One nurse came out wearing blue gloves and asked me to hold the baby because everyone inside needed to work on my daughter. I held my grandson for the first time while hearing alarms behind a closed door. He was warm, furious, perfect. I remember thinking, Please do not make me choose which one of you I am praying for. My daughter survived. Today, six months later, I found a blue hospital glove inside the coat I wore that night. It must have stuck there somehow. I should throw it away. Instead, I put it inside the baby book. There are photographs of his first smile, first bath, first Christmas, and now one unused medical glove. My daughter thinks that is morbid. Maybe. To me, it belongs to his birth story because joy did not arrive alone. I became a grandmother and almost stopped being a mother in the same hour.