I always thought my pack of six children was a lot, until I saw the older five clinging to each other in one group hug at the grave side of my youngest. Then it seemed so small.

I had six kids in seven-and-a-half years. Doni was the prince of the family. All the older kids doted on him and he charmed strangers as well. His golden hair and clear blue eyes turned heads as I pushed him in the stroller and as he tumbled through the playground. Every morning after breakfast he would climb on the table and mix and pour, combining drinks and leftovers, experimenting with textures and tastes. He seemed like a tiny mad scientist and I thought he might follow in my paternal grandparents’ footsteps and become a chemical engineer.