I Was Told My Newborn Had Died—Then My Eight-Year-Old Son Asked Why Daddy Had Paid Aunt Rachel to Take the Crying Bundle

He came in when it was appropriate and asked questions that belonged to an eight-year-old.

“Does she know we’re here?”

“She can hear us,” I said.

“We’ll keep taking care of her.”

“Will Daddy come?”

The question was harder.

“Not here right now.

The adults helping us are making the arrangements.”