After Losing My Child, I Decided To Divorce

Every spring, our two families got together the day before the child's memorial day to prepare the things.

We went up the mountain early and lived in the hotel next to the cemetery.

When they discussed what the child would like in front of me, I stood aside, feeling awkward and silent, like an outsider.

"This tiger doll is very popular this year. I saw a lot of children wearing it online. My grandson will definitely like it."

With a smile on her face, Emily took out a doll our of her bag and gave it to Bruce.

My father-in-law, Jake Lowell, was dissatisfied and took out a Barbie doll. "Who said it must be a boy? What if it's a girl? She might like this one."

The child was less than four months old, and it was hard to tell the gender when it was taken out of the belly.

Softening his expression, Bruce took the things his parents had brought one by one.

"Take them all, and choose whatever you like later."

My parents stood on the side with flattering smiles on their faces. "Yes, yes, bring more over. The child can choose later."

Emily glanced at my mother, and the corners of her mouth that were raised instantly dropped. She rolled her eyes and said nothing.

My mother, who had been infuriated, deliberately walked over to me, and twisted my arm hard, venting her anger on me.

"If the child was still alive, would I have to suffer from her?"

"It's all your fault! How could I give birth to such an unlucky girl like you? You can't even protect your own child."

"Kneel down to apologize to that old lady and make her feel better. You've done nothing. You are so stupid!

My mom never thought that I was the one who suffered the most from the loss of her child.

I couldn't help but ask, "Mom, do you only have my younger brother and the child in your heart? What about me?"

Shouldn't you be my mother before becoming a grandmother?

Moreover, it was not that I hadn't tried to mend my relationship with Emily. When I got married, she treated me the best. She would give me whatever goodies she had, saying it was for my health and to help me conceive a child.

But later, she never looked at me again. All the gifts I sent were thrown into the trash.

"The killer who killed my grandson makes me sick."

If I was alive, she would feel sick.