On a sunny day, we met the photographer at a park in Covington, Kentucky. I immediately froze when I saw the park she chose, because it immediately conjured up ghosts from a tortured past. But this day wasn’t about any of that. This day was intended to capture this moment as it flies past us: the end of Zach’s first year, the end of Evan’s first decade. And she did. She gave me everything I wanted within a few minutes’ and a couple of emails’ worth of talking to me. I bought the copyrights to the photos, but I still feel like I need to give her credit for the awesome work. So here they are. My angels. My miracle 34-weeker who started out at 6 pounds and my miracle 33.5 weeker who started out at 7.24 pounds. The one who was supposed to be a miscarriage and the one who, I swear, was going to take the life right out of me. There is no way I can show the complete collection of photos, so instead I am showing 3 each of Evan, of Zach, and of the two together. These boys are my life.