“No…doctor…this can’t be true. Please do something. Check again…I swear my baby’s fine…” I held onto his arms, shaking my head as tears flew down my cheeks. But his answering sad nod fell my arms to my side. God! My baby. Gone. It did nothing. It was innocent.
A shout down the hallway snapped me out of my reverie and my eyes blinked, taking in the hospital room and then tracked down to my wrist where an I.V was hooked and then to the card held between my fingers
–Happy Anniversary, my love. Rest well and return home soon.
Those were the only words scribbled on the card. A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. He didn’t even know. He thought I was in the hospital for some elaborate bed rest. He didn’t know I’d lost our baby. I could bet my right arm he wasn’t even the one who picked out the flowers. My favorite flowers were tulips and he knew this. He must have sent his assistant or something.
Tears streamed down my face, hot and angry as I ripped the card into tiny pieces. I dragged my knees up to my chest and hugged myself tight as the tears burned a hot track on my cheeks. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? Why didn’t my husband care?