“However,” he continued, “there are complications. The baby is at high risk, and we’ll need to monitor you closely throughout the remainder of the pregnancy.” He paused, as if gauging our reaction before delivering the final blow. “And, Emily, due to the injuries you sustained, it’s unlikely you’ll be able to carry another child.”

The weight of his words crashed over me like a tidal wave. I felt the air leave my lungs, replaced by a sharp, aching emptiness. Ethan closed his eyes, a single tear escaping down his cheek, and I knew he was mourning not just for what had almost been lost, but for what could never be.

The room seemed to spin as I tried to process the news. The baby was alive—our miracle. But the future we had imagined, filled with siblings and growing family gatherings, was now irrevocably altered. I felt a strange detachment, my mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of our new reality.