That was the day I delivered two beautiful baby girls, Junie and Eliza.
But I was told that only one of my daughters had made it.
Or at least, that’s what everyone wanted me to believe.
The doctors spoke about unexpected complications and everything that had gone wrong during the delivery. They offered medical explanations, but none of their words could make sense of the unbearable emptiness I felt.
I had carried two little lives inside me, yet I left that hospital with only one child in my arms.
I never held my other daughter.
I never looked into her eyes.
I wasn’t even given the chance to see her face.
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