About eight weeks after our anniversary, I discovered, much to my surprise and delight, that I was pregnant. I felt like the Fates were finally smiling down on me, and THIS TIME, I'd do everything right by my baby.

When I told Jakob the news, his face lit up brighter than Las Vegas at night. Happiness once again ruled our household, as we could at last be a family. While I knew in my heart of hearts that no one could ever take the place of my dear Stephanie, I looked forward to bringing this new life into the world.

For the first couple of weeks, my emotions ran quite high. My hormones and paranoia made me a venerable basket case. Everything I saw on TV or read in books, newspapers, or magazines alluded to things that could be detrimental to a developing fetus. Caffeine can harm development, so out went the coffee maker--much to Jakob's chagrin. Mercury in seafood leads to low birth weight and mental impairment--OK, all the canned fish got trashed. I walked daily on eggshells. I even had my Ob/Gyn on speed dial--just in case.

By the time of my first wellness check, my nerves had gotten to me and had made me a complete and utter wreck. When the technician placed the ultrasound device on my abdomen, I could hear the rapid WHOOSH! WHOOSH! of the heartbeat. Wait! Was that NORMAL?

"What a strong, healthy heartbeat!" Dr. Samuelson stated, as if reading my thoughts. "I don't foresee any problems at the present. When you come in next month, I'll draw some fluid from the birth cavity to make sure the baby's healthy, and to determine your child's sex. Until then, just relax and enjoy being pregnant..."

Easier said than done Doc, I thought. After all, I DID lose Stephanie just shy of a year ago. I DON'T want to lose this child too..

At my next visit, the doctor performed an amniocentesis--a "fluid draw"--for testing. She informed me that the results would be back in about two weeks, and that she'd give me a call as soon as they came in.

Two weeks of waiting nervously did NOTHING to ease my growing paranoia. My mind ran rampant with morbid thoughts: What if something is wrong with my baby? I thought. Can I handle THAT? Will I love my baby like I loved Stephanie? Can I keep it safe, and will it go to term?

I know I must have snapped at Jakob--my beloved husband--at least a dozen times. Towards the end of the two weeks, he actually cringed every time I called his name.

Finally, when I thought I could endure no more, the doctor called.

"Looks like you can go ahead and paint the nursery blue," she stated. "In a little over five months, you're going to have a son."

A SON! Jakob beamed. I gushed. Finally, we had come full circle, and our family would soon be complete!

The pregnancy itself proceeded pretty much uneventfully from then onward. My hormones evened out, and life became bearable again for Jakob--at least I HOPED so... I still attended my group sessions, but only once a month. I tried--in vain--to hide my ever-growing "baby bump", but eventually Dawn noticed. She naturally congratulated me.

About a week later, she called me--out of the blue--and asked if I could make an emergency counseling session the following Wednesday. I asked Jakob, and, after checking his schedule--and realizing that I really had nothing better to do--I said I would. She told me she'd pick me up personally about two o'clock.

The "surprise" session turned out to be a baby shower. One present I opened stood out the most in my mind--the christening gown. I had only seen one other like it--the one Ms. Sanchez and I had picked out for Stephanie's funeral. A flood of raw emotions enveloped me as the grief once again took hold of me. Tears fell like rain, blinding me. My body shook uncontrollably as the sobs wracked me. Despair enshrouded every fiber of my being, and the dark, unyielding clouds of misery and guilt threatened to encompass everyone in their wake. I had to get away. I hadn't WANTED to see her since the funeral. Why did I abandon her to that cold, lonely grave? How could I say I loved her when I haven't even seen her?

I told Dawn my thoughts. She called her intern and advised her to take over. We then excused ourselves, and walked outside.

"So," Dawn began, apprehension evident in her voice. "What do you want to do, Alicia? I could take you some place a little less festive--someplace we could sit and talk, perhaps?"

"I don't think talking would help," I said, as tears streamed down my face. "Stephanie's funeral was a year ago. TODAY. If anything, I should be with her, not having a party."

"I'm sorry," Dawn said weakly. "I didn't know. We can go see her, if you really want to."

"I'd like that," I said through my tears. She just held me, and slowly led me to the waiting car--and a trip to a place I didn't want (but really needed) to go.

~~~---===o.0.O.0.o===---~~~

I wept bitterly as we drove to the cemetery. Seeing the christening gown brought all the anguish I had deeply buried flooding back. What can I say to someone whose memory I buried along with her tiny body?

Without warning, Dawn suddenly made a left-hand turn onto Sycamore Street. What is she doing? I questioned. The cemetery's the other direction, a block up on Elm.

As if to answer my silent question, Dawn stated that it wouldn't be appropriate to pay our respects without some kind of flowers. She pulled into a florist, and motioned for me to get out as well. She really thought of everything. I wonder...

As I got out of the car, I heard a peal of thunder in the distance as the sky suddenly became overcast. A light breeze had begun, and I could taste the approaching rain. Grabbing quickly for the door handle, Dawn ushered me inside.

The sights and smells assaulted my senses. Flowers blossomed in every color of the rainbow, and the scent rivaled the finest French perfumeries.

"May I help you ladies?" the owner asked, eager to make a sale.

"We need something to commemorate the loss of a young child," Dawn advised. "A girl. I thought roses might be appropriate."

"I see," he said. "Right this way, please."

He led us down row after row of flora, until he stopped abruptly in front of a huge refrigerated case. "These just came in this morning," he beamed. "They're the highest quality candy cane roses we've ever offered."

"They're LOVELY!" gushed Dawn. "What do you think, Alicia?"

"I don't know," I said. "I need something--special."

I walked up the next row and saw some lilacs. Stephanie would have loved lilacs. But they somehow seemed too plain for my tastes.

Next, were the chrysanthemums. I could just picture Stephanie picking the petals in endless games of "He loves me; he loves me not".

I felt like I was getting nowhere. Nothing I saw seemed special enough for my beloved Stephanie.

I turned a corner and saw PERFECTION--like Stephanie herself--the most beautiful ruby-tipped peach rose I'd ever seen. The same color as Stephanie's receiving blanket--the same color as her burial gown.

"THAT'S IT!" I saw the potential this bud could bring--the happiness in the midst of my turmoil... Dawn and the florist came running. "I MUST have THIS rose. Stephanie sent it to me. I KNOW IT!"

"You're in luck. That's the last one we have in the shop."

"I'll take it!"

"If you don't mind me asking," the florist quizzed, "How old was she when she passed?"

"Two weeks. Stephanie was only two weeks old. Today makes one year..."

The shopkeeper reached out to hand me the rose. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Ma'am. With my blessing. For Stephanie."

We left the shop just as a light drizzle began to fall. Dawn assured me that this time, we were headed to the cemetery.

Dawn and I slowly made our way to Stephanie. Kneeling, I laid the rose on her grave, along with my tear-stained handkerchief.

"For me?" a melodic voice questioned.

"Stephanie?"

"I'm here, Mom. And I love you."

"I love you, too. I'm sorry," I began.

"You carry me daily in your heart. I don't feel forgotten."

"I never even got a chance to hold you."

"You've never let go. You need to do that now."

"But Stephanie," I wailed, "what if I'm not ready?"

"You'll be fine." she answered as she began to fade.

"I love you, Stephanie."

"I love you both..."

As she faded in a flash of light, I began dusting myself off.

For the second time since her funeral, Stephanie had spoken to me, comforting me. Am I going crazy? Did it really happen? What do I do now?

Dawn saw the dazed look on my face as I turned to walk back to the car.

"We need to talk..." I breathed.

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Author's Note:

OK. I know it's been well over a month since I posted the beginnings of this story. As many of you know, I have SERIOUS health issues that occasionally flare up that cause me to spend time in ICU. I've just returned from another stay, only to find out that my care giver had decided to move me to another home. So with the hospital and move, I've had little time to do much else. This chapter was set to post April 7th, but was delayed. I hope you enjoy it.

* Kisses always,*
Haylee V
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