p b Dawn Lily /b p i By: TheRowlingPierceWriter/i p Dedicated: For my sister p hr
p She doesn't know how lucky she is. It's kind of ironic, you know? You don't realize how blessed you really are until you meet someone worse off. Even now she doesn't quite grasp the importance of that tiny seedling inside her. How could she? She's never lost...
p We were going to name her Dawn. She would be perfect: striking green eyes, bright red hair. iDawn Lily/i, we would call her. After her grandmother, the one she would so resemble. But that's all gone now.
p I was overjoyed when I found out. We had been trying for months, and finally our labor had produced fruit. I knew I was going to love her with all my heart. I knew she was going to be my sunshine.
p While the months passed, we planned. I never pictured Harry as a homemaker, but to my surprise he dived headfirst into the baby-proofing production. We built her her own room by hand, chose the wallpaper together, took my old baby blankets out of storage, even had a row of bottles ready and waiting in the freezer. Time couldn't pass quickly enough.
p And then the blood started.
p It was a Saturday night, I remember that much. I woke up and looked down to see that my legs were stained with red and my hands were shaking. This couldn't be happening.
p Harry took me to the hospital while I drifted in and out of consciousness. The world was one big rat pack around me, spinning, turning, bright lights flashing, colliding, crashing, burning, drowning...
p By the next morning I found out the worst: we had miscarried. There would be no Dawn Lily. There would be no family. There would be no sunshine.
p Hermione is lying in her bed now, spread out eagle-style, muttering in her sleep. The gentle swell of her belly does not go unnoticed by me. It has haunted my dreams ever since she conceived. For my best friend, she sure does do a lot of damage.
p Sometimes I wonder, why me? Why do I deserve this? All I want is a child to love and hold and mother and care for...is there anything wrong with that? iWhat did I do to end up like this?/i
p Hermione is rolling over, trying to get comfortable. There's something in her way; I reach over and grab it. She sighs contentedly as I remove the obstruction to her peaceful slumber.
p In my hands is a baby-naming book. She appears to have been reading it as she fell asleep. I flip through it, not as interested as I appear. What use do I have for a book like this now?
p Hermione has turned down the ear of one the pages. I turn to it and peruse the page. In the far right corner, a name is circled, and next to it, in Hermione's tidy handwriting, a second has been written in. iDawn/i, the book says. iLily/i, wrote Hermione.
p I stare down at the soft mound of Hermione's baby. Somewhere inside there is Dawn Lily, I think. Someone inside there is my neice. "Hey, baby girl," I breathe, remembering that Hermione once told me it is beneficial for a fetus's growing mind to hear speech. "How you doing?" I ask, as if waiting for a reply. I picture her smiling. "This is your aunt Ginny talking," I continue. "You're going to be my sunshine, too, okay?"