And I want to be honest that I do not think I could have held on for myself alone.

I had just learned that the man I loved had thrown me off a cliff for money; some part of me, I think, would have been willing to let the cold take me, if the cold had only had me to take.

But it did not only have me.

Every time the darkness reached up to pull me under, I pressed my numb hands against my belly, and I made myself stay.

“You have to fight, sweetie,” I whispered through cracked lips.

“We can’t let them win.” And then — and I felt it, faint but unmistakable, deep inside me — my son moved.