Chapter Six
From the moment my ob-gyn confirms I’m pregnant with a girl, I know I want to call her Rosie. Not Rose, or Rosamund, or Rosalyn, but just Rosie. Rosie Whitehouse. My dream come true.
My friends, Ginny and Susan, who had put me in touch with their fertility specialist and accompanied me on my first appointment, had warned me about the path of hope and disappointment artificial insemination would take me on. They’d had to try—and pay for—four inseminations before Ginny had gotten pregnant and successfully carried the baby to term. But, as if the universe knew I was more than ready—and that I had already sacrificed greatly—my very first insemination took, despite the odds being small. Dr. Barkin confirmed my pregnancy, monitored me closely, behaved moderately optimistic but alwa
