I tiptoed into the dimly lit room that smelled of baby powder and bedtime body lotion. Don’t wake the baby. My parents warned me, my brother warned me and their words rang in my ears as I secretly strolled across the carpeted floor. I didn’t care. I had to meet her. I knelt next to the crib taking her tiny hand in mine staring at her as her eyes fluttered open not making a sound. Joy and adoration filled my seven-year-old heart. I kissed that tiny hand and I became an aunt.