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My nephew died. I would tell you what happened, how this occured, but I don't know. You see, he had yet to be born. My sister was two weeks from delivery. He was her first child. He had been conceived through artificial insimination. When we found out she was, indeed, pregnat, we all cried. This had been her fourth attempt at insimination and to say we were overjoyed would be an understatement. I knew she was pregnant a few days before she took the pregnancy test and I told her as much. We were sitting in the backyard at the picnin table, just talking. Suddenly, a small voice in my mind said she's pregnant. In that moment I just knew. I looked at her and told her. Of course she just smiled and said, not for the first time, that I was crazy. Still, I knew I had just magnified her hope and that was o.k. because I knew I was right. Days later the pregnancy test confirmed what I had told her. I would have been astounded if the test had been negative. So, phase two of the journey began. I think we all started shopping that weekend. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I was more excited about this than anything I had ever experienced. The pregnancy itself was, by most standards, uneventful. Every doctor's appointment seemed to be textbook. Always she was told everything was progressing perfectly. The first time she heard his heartbeat she recorded it on her cell phone so that the rest of us could hear it. Watching us listening to this staticky recording you would have thought we had just won the lottery. We all gathered around, waiting with baited breath until what sounded like the clomping of horses hooves could be heard coming from the small flip phone. I smiled for two days afterward. The ultrasound pictures were great, and when she had her second ultrasound I was able to go with her. I swear the little guy flexed his arm muscle at us during the show. He looked perfect. All organs and bodyweight were right on track. Never one time was there bad news from the doctor. Time went by and delivery was fast approaching. Names were picked out and discarded on a regular basis, but finally they settled on a name, Carter Dale. You see they really liked the name Carter and Dale is our father's middle name. Also, with this name he would have my same initials, a fact that made me unreasonbaly happy. Yes, things were going so well. Two weeks before her scheduled C-Section she went in for her final ultrasound. Her doctor did this with all his patients who had scheduled C-Sections

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