Two Weeks After Our Baby Died, My 8-Year-Old Whispered, “Mom, She Isn’t Gone—I Saw What Daddy Did at the Hospital”
He believed love gave him the right to decide what pain I should be allowed to encounter.
It did not.
For years after, people asked:
“Why didn’t you leave him?”
Some asked gently.
Some judgmentally.
My answer was never satisfying.
Because I did not know immediately whether staying was right.