These days, laughter and tears travel side by side. In the car at a drive-thru pharmacy not long ago, Lisa was playing with her electric hand, trying to get it to cooperate. She placed her left hand across the artificial palm to test its grip, which, it turned out, was relentless. She squealed, fumbling to make it let go. As the pharmacist came to the window and peered into the car, Sammie was reaching down Lisa's shirt, trying to unhook the battery to turn it off. At lunch, later in the day, Lisa retold the story and her friends howled with laughter.

She is both grateful for the help she has received from so many friends and envious of those who don't need it. In rehab one day, while Lisa's stubbies are being adjusted, Sammie kisses Lily between the eyes, making the child belly laugh. A small cloud briefly passes across Lisa's face. She would love to be the shelter Lily seeks, but that, like everything else in her life, will take time. Across the room, Lisa begins a waving game and Lily waves back. Soon, mother and baby are giggling at each other across the expanse of carpet.

· · · · ·

On the scale of randomness, strep falls somewhere between a stray bullet and cancer: something that seems to come out of nowhere but can't be blamed on chance alone. At night, when the children are asleep and the house is quiet, Lisa and Steve still ask themselves why it all happened. It is less a question about medicine and more about the whys of the universe. But gradually, Steve says, they are reframing the question.

"One of the ways we can get through this is by knowing that the why will not be easily revealed; it will be revealed in time," he says. "So, to keep a positive attitude, instead of saying, 'why did it happen' we say 'why are you here?' "

She is here to love her family and to be loved. She is here to teach her children, even if the lessons might not be the ones she once imagined. She might or might not take them to Morocco. But she can certainly teach them to savor all journeys, big and small.

She has reprioritized the lessons, she says. Love of nature has fallen to third place. First is compassion and open-mindedness toward those who are different, regardless of how. "Secondly," she says, "I want to try to keep our family together in a healthy manner." They are all adapting to new roles, all cautiously learning how to take care of her. Their feelings are still so tender, almost raw, she says.

In dark moments — and Lisa admits there are still many — she looks at the future and it seems short. She's a nurse, she says, so she knows that her life-span has changed. She will always battle malnutrition. She doesn't know if her heart was damaged or if her kidneys will fail again. She starts now from a weaker point, and any injury or infection or damage to her organs could kill her.

She and Steve have practiced what they will tell Hannah and Lily some day about what happened. It was not the birth that made her sick, it was bacteria, they will say. They will explain it like this: Mommy came back to be with you.