How do you say goodbye to someone with whom you shared not a past full of memories, but a future made of fantasies? How do you make space for sadness when you're surrounded by messages, both internal and external, telling you to buck up and move on?
When the nurses took Atticus to the nursery a few hours after his birth because his temperature was low, it didn't occur to me to be afraid. Even when a nurse entered the room with a doctor who introduced herself as a neonatologist, it didn't trigger an alarm.
This was a major turning point in my life. It didn't make sense to me, and it did not seem right. It is one of the reasons I gave up my former career path, went back to school, and became an infertility counsellor.