Rain, Blood And Puppies
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Summary
The day I miscarried and suffered a massive hemorrhage, my parents rushed to the hospital through a torrential downpour. They never made it. A truck T-boned their car halfway there.
As I lay on the cold operating table, my hands, stained red with my own blood, shook violently as I signed their emergency surgery consent forms.
In the end, I could not save my baby, and the doctors could not save my parents.
The one person who should have been by my side, the man whose calls I had desperately tried to reach all night, was busy posting a celebration on his social media feed.
