Chapter 3 - HER NAME WAS GRACE
The hospital asked what I wanted to do regarding the baby.
That question nearly destroyed me.
For twenty-four hours, everyone had called her “the fetus.”
Medical language.
Necessary.
Still unbearable.
I looked at Emily.
Then said:
“Her name is Grace.”
I had never told Daniel.
I had written the name in a note on my phone months earlier.
Grace Elizabeth.
I planned to suggest it after delivery.
Daniel had refused to discuss girls’ names.
“We won’t need one.”
He had said it repeatedly.
Now I gave her the name anyway.
Grace Elizabeth.
Emily helped me arrange a small memorial.
No huge funeral.
No performance.
Just me.
Emily.
Our aunt Susan.
Two close friends Daniel had gradually pushed away.
And a small white box containing the remains of the daughter who should have grown up.
I could not stand during the entire service because of my back injury.
So I sat.
At first, I hated that.
Then Emily whispered:
“You don’t have to stand to prove anything.”
She was right.
I had spent years proving endurance.
I was done.
I placed one thing beside Grace.
A knitted yellow hat.
The first baby item I had secretly bought after learning she was a girl.
Daniel had seen it and said:
“Don’t get attached to pink nonsense.”
It wasn’t pink.
It was yellow.
That somehow made the memory worse.
At the memorial, I touched the little hat.
Then whispered:
“You were wanted.”
That sentence was not for Daniel.
Not for the court.
Not for anyone listening.
It was for her.
May you like
And for me.
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