nurse at Saint Luke’s Hospital. Red curls, freckles, and an exuberant laugh made her memorable.
Single, she had always wanted motherhood. She was tired of waiting for a suitable partner.
“So I went shopping,” she said at our first meeting. “Picked a donor out of a catalog. Like ordering a sweater.”
Everyone laughed.
Dana and I bonded immediately.
We had lunch after meetings. We shopped for maternity clothes together. During nights when sleep would not come, she often phoned me at eleven, and we talked through swollen ankles, stretch marks,
