What happened was a placental abruption.

It happened at 11:40 at night, at home, with no warning of any kind, and by the time we reached the hospital I had lost a quantity of blood that I did not learn the number of for nine years.

June did not survive.

The surgeon came to find Logan at some point during that night and explained that the bleeding could not be controlled and that a hysterectomy was the only remaining option and that there was not time for a long conversation about it.

I woke up the following afternoon and Logan was holding my hand and he had been crying for so long that his face did not look like his face.