The paramedics moved me onto a stretcher.
David tried to follow.
I said:
“No.”
He stopped.
It was the first time I had ever seen my husband truly shocked by that word.
“No?”
“I don’t want you coming with me.”
“Anna, I’m your husband.”
“I know.”
“I have the right—”
“No.”
The paramedic looked at him.
“She said no.”
That was all.
No argument about marriage.
No discussion about what looked proper.
No warning about embarrassing his firm.
One word from me.
One sentence from a stranger.
And suddenly my boundary existed.
Emily rode with me.
I asked her to.
At the hospital, doctors moved quickly.
I will not describe those hours in detail.
Some experiences do not become more meaningful because every painful moment is retold.
What matters is that my baby survived.
My daughter.
Grace.
She came far too close to entering the world that Christmas night.
