That first night was a blur of crying, formula temperature checks, and diaper changes. I called in to work the next morning to request emergency family leave, something I had never done in my five years at the hospital. My supervisor, knowing my reliable work history, granted me two weeks without question.

I filed a police report that morning, but the officers were not particularly concerned, given the note. There was no crime in a mother leaving her child with a family member, they explained. Amanda was not missing. She had chosen to leave. They took my information but warned me not to expect much.

I also called a family lawyer, who explained I would need to file for temporary guardianship, a process that would take time and money.

Those first days were a fog of contradicting emotions. I was furious at Amanda for putting me in this position—for abandoning her child, for disappearing without a proper explanation. But every time I looked at Lily, with her tiny fingers and trusting eyes, my anger melted into protective love. She was innocent in all this, completely dependent on someone to care for her.