Maria walks inside the nursery room.
Instantly, she feels the cold air meet her skin, the forlorn emptiness of the room.
What once was a little bundle of joy inside her swelling belly is now gone. Her baby, due to unfortunate circumstances, was born still. But during those months that the baby was in her womb, she could already imagine herself exchanging meaningful conversations with him. Looking at him in his eye. Knowing his passions. Learning what he hates or what he loves. Will he become a pilot? Will he become a doctor? Will he be a great man, successful and famous; or will he choose to stay ordinary like me? Maria thought.
Maria crossed over to the crib. The toys. The baby clothes neatly folded in one corner. The shoes he will never wear.
She caught a glimpse of the ultrasound, which she framed in a picture frame and now on a desk. She wept more as she held them against her chest, the closest she can get to holding her baby.