Later, he finally said:
— We can’t do this.
— What are you saying?
— We’re too young. We aren’t prepared for a life like this.
“A life like this.”
Those words never left me.
The next morning, a hospital social worker came in carrying paperwork.
Brian remained beside me, yet he never reached for my hand.
“It doesn’t have to be forever,” he said.
Deep down, I knew otherwise.
Before I signed anything, the nurse brought my baby back one final time.
He looked tiny.
Completely calm.
Then I signed.
About an hour later, I walked from the hospital carrying an empty infant carrier…
That was when footsteps rushed up behind me.
The nurse.
She was crying.
She caught me before I could leave and whispered:
— Please… before you go, there is something you must know about what your husband asked us to do. Discover the rest of the story below, in the first comment.
An hour later, she moved slowly through the maternity hallway, the empty carrier hanging from one arm. Somehow it felt heavier without her baby inside it.
This Post Has One Comment
Comments are closed.