
Then came the phone call I had prayed for.
I dropped to the floor of my apartment, laughing and sobbing at once.
All my life, people had said Rosie would never live a normal life.
Now, she was going to be a mom.
I should have known joy that big could not travel alone.
The pregnancy was difficult.
At thirty-four weeks, Rosie was rushed to the hospital.
The doctors’ prognosis was grim.
The pregnancy was difficult.
The waiting room clock ticked past midnight.
I stared at the double doors where they had wheeled Rosie in, willing them to swing open with good news.

Looking back, it hurts to realize how close to the truth I was.
It hurts to realize how close to the truth I was.
***
The next morning, I smiled and helped Rosie put together a wedding inspiration board on Pinterest.
“You’ll be my maid of honor,” she told me. “Promise me.”
“I promise, Rosie.”
Part of me kept thinking my parents would intervene.
But they just smiled and said Ben would take good care of Rosie.