When I was pregnant with twins, I begged my husband to take me to the hospital. But his mother blocked the doorway and said, “Take us to the mall first.”

At thirty-three weeks pregnant with twins, I suddenly felt intense contractions—quick, sharp, and coming far too fast. It was a scorching Sunday morning in Phoenix, the kind of heat that seemed to soak right into my bones. I clutched the doorframe to keep my balance and called out for my husband, Evan, who was in the kitchen with his mother, …