By Kem Nathan-Gaul
That baby meant so much to me. Luke and I had tried really hard to have a child. We had been married for three years and had two miscarriages in that time. We called them accidents. Maybe Luke felt that by calling them accidents, they would feel less real to me and therefore, less painful. Not true. I smiled and said, “Yes, the accident…”, only because I wanted him to move on and change the subject. Perhaps talk about hockey or one of his patients at the hospital. Finally, that one month when we didn’t hope, pray and wish; it happened. I got pregnant.