We were celebrating at my sister’s baby shower when she beamed and said, “The baby’s kicking—come feel it!” My husband placed his hand gently on her belly. Suddenly his face drained of color. He grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. “Call an ambulance. Now.” He looked at me, shaken. “When you touched her stomach… didn’t you notice?” What he said next made my knees give out.
Chapter 1: The Party of Bad Premonitions
The air in my sister Lauren’s living room was thick with the sweet scent of vanilla frosting and the cheerful, overlapping chatter of two dozen women. Pastel pink and gold balloons bobbed lazily against the ceiling, and a massive, tiered cake adorned with fondant baby booties sat as the centerpiece on the dining table. It was a picture-perfect Saturday afternoon baby shower, the culmination of months of meticulous planning and joyful anticipation.
Lauren sat in a plush armchair, glowing. She was thirty-four weeks pregnant, wearing a flowing, light blue silk dress that perfectly accentuated her large, round belly. She looked happy, but beneath the radiant smile, I could see the distinct, heavy exhaustion that accompanied the third trimester. Her ankles were slightly swollen, and she kept shifting her weight, trying to find a comfortable position.
