After ten years of miscarriages, we finally had our miracle baby girl but when the nurse handed her to my husband, he went completely pale, stared at the birthmark on her shoulder, and whispered, “No… that’s impossible.”

He stood completely still, his breathing suddenly shallow.

“No,” he whispered. “That’s impossible.”

⸻

“Desmond?” I said, pushing myself up slightly against the pillows despite how tired I was. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

He didn’t answer right away, still staring down at that small mark like it might disappear if he looked at it long enough.