while warm fluid soaked my dress. For months, Rowan had promised he would be there.
But his mother, Selina, had declared her sixtieth birthday dinner a “once-in-a-lifetime family event.”
Apparently, our son’s birth didn’t qualify.
I called Rowan again, desperate enough to give him one last opportunity. Music, laughter, and clinking glasses filled the background.
“Rowan, my water broke,” I said through another contraction. “The contractions are four minutes apart.”
Before he could answer, Selina’s voice came through the phone. “Tell her women have been giving birth for thousands of
