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

Rachel had come to the hospital that night.

She had held my hand after I woke.

She had cried beside the bed, and I had believed her tears came from knowing exactly what it meant to lose a baby.

Her own newborn had died three years earlier.

The loss had changed her life.

There were good periods and difficult ones, times she could talk about it and times she withdrew from everybody.

Her grief deserved care.