“I wanted to name her Evelyn.” I said, looking at all of them. “Henry and I decided on our kids’ names on the night of our wedding. When we found out it was a girl, he said he wanted to name her something different. We fought about it because I didn’t know what had changed, and it was almost like he was mad about it.”

I took a deep breath. “At nineteen weeks I woke up to a pool of blood. I had had two miscarriages at this point, and I knew it might happen again. Henry was on a business trip and I called him on my way to the hospital because I was freaking out. It was two in the morning, so I didn’t expect him to answer, but I wanted to keep him aware of what was happening.” Fresh tears poured down my face.

“The ultrasound tech said she couldn’t find a heartbeat, and I was most likely miscarrying. I was heartbroken and alone. Henry didn’t call me back until the following evening and when I told him, he almost sounded relieved. I was so heartbroken that I didn’t even suspect it, but I don’t think he wanted this baby. He didn’t come home right away, and I had to go to my OB by myself. They found a heartbeat, and I was bleeding because my placenta had shifted. So they ordered me to stay off my feet for two weeks.” I remember the relief I felt that day and I was so happy. I smiled, remembering I was so lucky. Callum grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze, and I kept going.

“I was so excited to tell Henry we were still pregnant and that everything was ok. He didn’t call me back for two days, and I was furious because I had called him about a dozen times. Henry said it was because he needed to process what was going on and when I told him we were still pregnant, he became upset. He asked me what game I was playing, and why was I playing with his emotions. He thought I was doing it all for attention. When he came home, I showed him my ER papers and my OB paperwork, but he still wasn’t happy. He was irritated, and we fought for weeks about everything and anything.