It was the first time we were having dinner with his family since I got out of the hospital. Three months earlier, I’d lost the baby after a complicated, harrowing pregnancy. Between the endless tests, the debilitating bed rest, and finally being admitted, I had lost nearly everything: weight, hope, peace of mind. Even so, his mother, Helen, had insisted on this dinner. “Time to gather the family and move on,” she’d said, her voice dripping with false sympathy.