Two Weeks After Our Baby Died, My 8-Year-Old Whispered, “Mom, She Isn’t Gone—I Saw What Daddy Did at the Hospital”
“It doesn’t.”
He looked up.
“It sounds like your daughter had just died.”
Lucas pressed one fist against his mouth.
“I held Clara maybe five minutes.”
Then:
“I kept thinking Melanie and Clara were supposed to grow up together.”
I started crying too.
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