Although, the monitoring machine was conspicuous by its absence, Ottilie's feeding machine was still there as was that container under her bed.I found...myself looking through a few of her Christmas cards and realised that they were nearly all new – welcome back to us – cards, that I'd never seen before. For an instant I felt annoyed with myself because there wasn't one from me amongst them.Then feeling uncommonly tired, myself, I settled in a chair and gently took hold of Ottilie's left hand. It was a cruel blow. I know Anne wanted them. I'd have loved them too.I considered adoption. She did not want that. She talked about finding a donor. I could not live with that idea. I guess I am a jealous man, after all. (Ha! But you know that by now.)We stopped talking about it.I knew it hurt her. It was a sneaking hurt. It was like mourning after a death. I guess that's when Anne decided to make a career for herself. Maybe even a life.She did the marketing and PR for a fast growing chain of. More

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