It isn't the baby's fault. It isn't Corinne's fault. I've bought a ticket. I'll get out to Florida and meet her, and bond with this little soul. Sooner is better. If I wait, the pain worsens, will settle into me and become part of the story. Part of the sorrow.
I bought books and toys and clothes to bring with me. I won't think about it until I have to. I won't think about the name. I don't have to call her by name. I can call her nicknames and she doesn't ever have to know. And when she's there, in my arms, I have to believe that the love for this particular small person will win out against the pain.
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