Never question a mother’s intuition. My water isn’t supposed to break while there’s a storm raging, when my husband isn’t on the island, and as the power flickers out. Darkness covers the cabin as I cling to my belly. I never imagined it happening like this. Trained as a midwife, I know I can deliver my daughter. * * * I look at her, and I see her — I’ve always known her. She’s perfect. Sweat and tears streak down my face as I kiss her over and over again. Reaching for my bag of midwifery supplies, I wipe her nose and press her tiny body to my chest. I fall asleep with her in my arms. * * * When I wake, my husband is home, the lights are back on — but the baby he’s holding — it’s not mine. I’m not crazy. I gave birth to a girl, and that baby in his arms is a boy. He’s not my baby. Please note this is a revised edition of The Midwife’s Mistake. It contains themes of baby loss that some readers may find upsetting.