"So what about that name?" I asked Andrew one night, a couple days after we got back from Atlanta. We talk every night before going to sleep, as we are winding down, in the dark. "I don't know if we can use it anymore..." I trailed off.
We had carefully avoided calling that baby girl J, and even when we were holding her for some reason, we hadn't said our name out loud. But others had, and there had been one email, after we met her before we found out that she wasn't to be ours. I wondered. I love that name.
Andrew flipped on the light, looked at me. He shook his head. "No," he said. "That wasn't her. That wasn't J." I can tell when my husband means what he's saying, and he meant it.
And it turns out, he was right.
But more on that in a couple days. (do stay tuned...)