She was born in a hospital on the East side of the city to a mother born of a mother while crossing the border in a van. That first mother, su abuelo, dead. The second, su madre, tangled up with another man. And the third, she is here stretched out on a bed, incapacitated by the kiss of hope. Here the baby resides, blue except for her little finger tips, which she's wrapped around her mother's, sealed off from hers in plastic. This the plastic barrier between mother and child, the only point of contact within the four walls of glass. Fluid flows to feed the child. It is beginning here. Blue receiving blankets wait in the corner. They thought she would come later. They thought she would be other. As she squeezes mama's hand, mama thinks, "We had no idea," and the tears once more begin to roll.