Announcing New Baby Quotes

Franny has the measles, for one thing. Incidentally, did you hear her last week? She went on at beautiful length about how she used to fly all around the apartment when she was four and no one was home. The new announcer is worse than Grant - if possible, even worse than Sullivan in the old days. He said she surely dreamt that she was able to fly. The baby stood her ground like an angel. She said she knew she was able to fly because when she came down she always had dust on her fingers from touching the light bulbs.

There was something about her mouth that made me feel possibilities...the way a train ticket holds possibilities, the way a boat docked at sunset does, the way a voice on the radio announcing victory does. A mouth can have that it can seem brave, and bold. Finite and infinite. After a war, you need both of those things. "Why don't you kiss me, she said. "Celebrate a new world." And so I did. I could not forget that kiss. I still cannot. I put my fingertips to her face. Indeed,changed that day, but the change in life was no smaller or less significant. The moment took my sorrow and made it swarm the streets in victory, shouting in joy and rightness, and from that I have never quite recovered.

As many years as I have been listening to Easter sermons, I have never heard anyone talk about that part. Resurrection is always announced with Easter lilies, the sound of trumpets, bright streaming light. But it did not happen that way. If it happened in a cave, it happened in complete silence, in absolute darkness, with the smell of damp stone and dug earth in the air. Sitting deep in the heart of Organ Cave, I let this sink in: new life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark.

My father’s new life was progressing as planned, one neat step at a time. And I felt it, again, that same feeling I got whenever another change or shift in my life was announced to me – selling the house, Ashley’s tantrums, now the baby – that need to dig in my heels and prepare myself for the next shock and its aftermath. I was tired of hanging on, taking the torn pieces to make something whole with them.

Do you realize what a beacon you’ve become?” “A—I beg your pardon?” “A beacon of hope,” says the woman, smiling. “As soon as we announced we’d be doing this interview, our viewers started calling in, e-mails, text messages, telling us you’re an angel, a talisman of goodness . . .” Ma makes a face. “All I did was I survived, and I did a pretty good job of raising Jack. A good enough job.” “You’re very modest.” “No, what I am is irritated, actually.” The puffy-hair woman blinks twice. “All this reverential—I’m not a saint.” Ma’s voice is getting loud again. “I wish people would stop treating us like we’re the only ones who ever lived through something terrible. I’ve been finding stuff on the Internet you wouldn’t believe.” “Other cases like yours?” “Yeah, but not just—I mean, of course when I woke up in that shed, I thought nobody’d ever had it as bad as me. But the thing is, slavery’s not a new invention. And solitary confinement—did you know, in America we’ve got more than twenty-five thousand prisoners in isolation cells? Some of them for more than twenty years.” Her hand is pointing at the puffy-hair woman. “As for kids—there’s places where babies lie in orphanages five to a cot with pacifiers taped into their mouths, kids getting raped by Daddy every night, kids in prisons, whatever, making carpets till they go blind—

Haiku Christmas Story New light in the sky announces a sacred birth. Shine brightly young star. Hallelujah song carries on a gentle wind, heralding a king. Shepherds lift their heads, not to gaze at a new light but to hear angels. "Unto you is born in the city of David a Savior for all." Born on straw at night under low stable rafters, Baby Jesus cried. Sheep and goats and cows gather 'round a manger bed to awe at a babe. Wise men come to see a child of greater wisdom and honor divine. Rare and precious gifts, gold and myrrh and frankincense, to offer a king. Mary and Joseph huddle snugly together. They cradle God's son. On this wise He came, the Son of God to the earth. A humble wonder.

He didn’t stop when they got there, though. Just slowed down, in his drag-ass, baby-smelling, style-free Subaru wagon, long enough to check out a banner announcing, in baseball-jersey script, the imminent opening for business, between the United Federation of Donuts and the King of Bling, of a trading card store called Mr. Nostalgia’s Neighborhood. Beyond the fourth grade or so, Archy had never taken much interest in baseball cards, but he could feel the underlying vibe of that particular madness. Although he knew he would never be able to set foot in that building again without breaking his heart, he understood that the new operation held promise, and in principle, at least, he approved. The merchandise was not the thing, and neither, for that matter, was the nostalgia. It was all about the neighborhood, that space where common sorrow could be drowned in common passion as the talk grew ever more scholarly and wild.

Will, was not as taken with the photo of the new baby as the grown ups around him. “It look like Mr. Potato Head.” “I’m sure your baby sister will appreciate that,” Alessandro said with a wry grin. “A girl? It’s a girl?” Will asked with a grimace. “That’s right,” Bree announced as Vanessa and Brian congratulated them. “I can play wif Gianni but what we gonna do wif a girl?” he asked, handing the picture back to them. “Nope, send it back and get another boy dis time.

We kept our fingers crossed and eagerly scanned the newspapers and magazines for news of an engagement between Diana and Charles. Then, late in the morning of February 24, I answered the telephone in my bedroom and heard the voice of a friend in London… “Mary, it’s Dena. Your girl made it!” I knew she meant that Diana’s engagement to Prince Charles had just been announced. I gave a big shout and literally jumped for joy, banging my head on the low dormer ceiling. I couldn’t have been prouder of Diana if I’d been her mother. I was so happy for her I could have burst! I knew how desperately she had wished for this outcome. The past fall, she had told me that she would “simply die” if the romance didn’t work out. How wonderful that her dream had come true. Almost immediately, a mischievous picture popped into my mind of the future and royal Diana, scheduled for an official day of handshaking, ribbon cutting, or tree planting and wishing she could have a friend call to cancel those tedious engagements. As Princess of Wales, she would not be able to cancel on short notice, if at all, as she had when she was baby-sitting for me. I wondered how the lively, spontaneous, and very young Diana would adjust to her official duties. I felt a bit sorry for her as I dimly realized how rigid and structured her new life might be.

All that we have seen in this work shows us one clear fact: The Qur'an, this extraordinary book which was revealed to the Seal of the Prophets, Muhammad (saas), is a source of inspiration and true knowledge. The book of Islam-no matter what subject it refers to-is being proved as Allah's word as each new piece of historical, scientific or archaeological information comes to light. Facts about scientific subjects and the news delivered to us about the past and future, facts that no one could have known at the time of the Qur'an's revelation, are announced in its verses. It is impossible for this information, examples of which we have discussed in detail in this book, to have been known with the level of knowledge and technology available in 7th century Arabia. With this in mind, let us ask: Could anyone in 7th century Arabia have known that our atmosphere is made up of seven layers? Could anyone in 7th century Arabia have known in detail the various stages of development from which an embryo grows into a baby and then enters the world from inside his mother? Could anyone in 7th century Arabia have known that the universe is "steadily expanding," as the Qur'an puts it, when modern scientists have only in recent decades put forward the idea of the "Big Bang"? Could anyone in 7th century Arabia have known about the fact that each individual's fingertips are absolutely unique, when we have only discovered this fact recently, using modern technology and modern scientific equipment? Could anyone in 7th century Arabia have known about the role of one of Pharaoh's most prominent aids, Haman, when the details of hieroglyphic translation were only discovered two centuries ago? Could anyone in 7th century Arabia have known that the word "Pharaoh" was only used from the 14th century B.C. and not before, as the Old Testament erroneously claims? Could anyone in 7th century Arabia have known about Ubar and Iram's Pillars, which were only discovered in recent decades via the use of NASA satellite photographs? The only answer to these questions is as follows: the Qur'an is the word of the Almighty Allah, the Originator of everything and the One Who encompasses everything with His knowledge. In one verse, Allah says, "If it had been from other than Allah, they would have found many inconsistencies in it." (Qur'an, 4:82) Every piece of information the Qur'an contains reveals the secret miracles of this divine book. The human being is meant to hold fast to this Divine Book revealed by Allah and to receive it with an open heart as his one and only guide in life. In the Qur'an, Allah tells us the following: This Qur'an could never have been devised by any besides Allah. Rather it is confirmation of what came before it and an elucidation of the Book which contains no doubt from the Lord of all the worlds. Do they say, "He has invented it"? Say: "Then produce a sura like it and call on anyone you can besides Allah if you are telling the truth." (Qur'an, 10:37-38) And this is a Book We have sent down and blessed, so follow it and have fear of Allah so that hopefully you will gain mercy. (Qur'an, 6:155)

Farah answered the door and I knew immediately her pants had recently been off. When our eyes met, I sensed she knew I knew. Farah gave me a casual smile then realized her ponytail was hanging weird off her head. “Sex is fun, huh?” Lark said, walking past her friend. “We’re like rabbits too.” Farah laughed. “We got home late and needed to let off some steam.” “Four times,” Cooper announced, bouncing the stairs. Grinning, I was ready to smack that smirk right off his face. “We have news.” “Moving in together is such a great first step in a relationship,” Cooper said, wrapping an arm around Farah’s shoulders. “We remember those days, don’t we, baby? So long ago.” “You’re being obnoxious,” Farah murmured to her husband. “A giant obnoxious stud.” Lark laughed and winked at me. “Speaking of studs, Aaron knocked me up our first time while I was on the pill. Bam! That is some super sperm!” Farah burst out laughing while I gave Cooper two middle fingers. He just glared at me like I’d knocked up my new girlfriend just so I could make him look weak. Yes, everything in the world revolved around Cooper including my sex life. “Fuck you,” Cooper growled at me. “Don’t feel bad. I mean, you had sex four times,” I said, putting up four fingers. “Wow, you’re bound to have at least one good swimmer in the bunch.” When Cooper ran at me, I took off through the dining room, past the kitchen, and out the backdoor. My buddy was big and strong, but he was slow. I was in the front yard before he got past his excited dogs. Lark opened the door for me then we shut it on Cooper who started cussing until he realized kids were nearby. Farah was laughing so hard she sat on the ground to keep from falling. “Let me in,” Cooper said in a low pissed voice as he glared through the side window. “Say it first.” “Congratulations, jackass. Now, let me in my damn house.” “That’s not what I want you to say.” “Then what? I’m not saying please, so it better not be that.” “Not please. I was thinking something like, ‘Gee, Aaron, can your balls dumb down things for my balls? I’d be ever so grateful to know how babies are made.’ Yeah, something like that.” Farah was rolling around on the floor and no help to Cooper who clearly wasn’t saying what I suggested. Lark finally unlocked the door and smiled at Cooper who exhaled like a pissed bull. “You’re welcome,” she said, grinning. “For what?” “I talked Aaron out of mocking you as badly as he wanted. This was the tame version. So you’re welcome.” Cooper shook his head and finally smiled.

The crew headed to Tequila Jodi’s for a celebration. Raven and Vaughn arrived an hour after everyone. They made up for their tardiness by binge drinking a bottle of tequila. Well, Vaughn did. Raven binged on a pitcher of Diet Coke. “I might be binging for two!” she announced then sat down to look over the pictures of her niece and nephew. Harlow showed up with Toni. While her mom joined Jodi at a back table, Harlow made a beeline for Winnie. “Are you okay?” she asked, studying Winnie’s face. “Yes. Are you?” Harlow rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” Winnie glanced at me and I saw such peace in her eyes. When she looked back at Harlow, her smile brightened. “Lark and the babies are okay. Today is a good day.” Hugging her sister, Winnie couldn’t stop smiling. “Are you drunk?” Harlow asked. “I’m happy.” Harlow studied her sister again and checked her hands for new bruises. “Do you plan to sleep at home tonight?” “No, I’m staying with Dylan.” “Any bad memories about the baby?” “Only hopeful thoughts about the future.” Harlow frowned at me then shrugged. “I can imagine you two making a decent looking kid. Your pretty eyes and hair and his… well shaped head. Yeah, it’ll work.” Running a hand over my head, I laughed. “My head shape is helluva sexy.” Winnie’s calm infected Harlow who laughed and ordered a soda. The sisters danced with Bailey and Sawyer to Amos Moses. I knew Winnie wasn’t comfortable showing off in front of people. Whenever she got nervous, she glanced at me and relaxed. “Wedding bells,” Nick said from beside me. “You didn’t waste any time.” “She calms the asshole in me and I calm the broken girl in her. What’s there to wait for?” Giving me a grin, Nick shrugged. “When you know, you know.

One evening Steve and I didn’t feel like cooking, and we had ordered a pizza. I noticed that I was a bit leaky, but when you are enormously pregnant, all kinds of weird things happen with your body. I didn’t pay any particular attention. The next day I called the hospital. “You should come right in,” the nurse told me over the phone. Steve was fairly nearby, on the Gold Coast south of Brisbane, filming bull sharks. I won’t bother him, I thought. I’ll just go in for a quick checkup. “If everything checks out okay,” I told them at the hospital, “I’ll just head back.” The nurse looked to see if I was serious. She laughed. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said. “You’re having a baby.” I called Steve. He came up from the Gold Coast as quickly as he could, after losing his car keys, not remembering where he parked, and forgetting which way home was in his excitement. When he arrived at the hospital, I saw that he had brought the whole camera crew with him. John was just as flustered as anyone but suggested we film the event. “It’s okay with me,” Steve said. I was in no mood to argue. I didn’t care if a spaceship landed on the hospital. Each contraction took every bit of my attention. When they finally wheeled me into the delivery room at about eight o’clock that night, I was so tired I didn’t know how I could go on. Steve proved to be a great coach. He encouraged me as though it were a footy game. “You can do it, babe,” he yelled. “Come on, push!” At 9:46 p.m., a little head appeared. Steve was beside himself with excitement. I was in a fog, but I clearly remember the joy on his face. He helped turn and lift the baby out. I heard both Steve and doctor announce simultaneously, “It’s a girl.” Six pounds and two ounces of little baby girl. She was early but she was fine. All pink and perfect. Steve cut the umbilical cord and cradled her, gazing down at his newborn daughter. “Look, she’s our little Bindi.” She was named after a crocodile at the zoo, and it also fit that the word “bindi” was Aboriginal for “young girl.” Here was our own young girl, our little Bindi. I smiled up at Steve. “Bindi Sue,” I said, after his beloved dog, Sui. Steve gently handed her to me. We both looked down at her in utter amazement. He suddenly scooped her up in the towels and blankets and bolted off. “I’ve got a baby girl!” he yelled, as he headed down the hall. The doctor and midwives were still attending to me. After a while, one of the midwives said nervously, “So, is he coming back?” I just laughed. I knew what Steve was doing. He was showing off his beautiful baby girl to the whole maternity ward, even though each and every new parent had their own bundle of joy. Steve was such a proud parent. He came back and laid Bindi beside me. I said, “I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t been here.” “Yes, you could have.” “No, I really needed you here.” Once again, I had that overwhelming feeling that as long as we were together, everything would be safe and wonderful. I watched Bindi as she stared intently at her daddy with dark, piercing eyes. He gazed back at her and smiled, tears rolling down his cheeks, with such great love for his new daughter. The world had a brand-new wildlife warrior.

At 9:46 p.m., a little head appeared. Steve was beside himself with excitement. I was in a fog, but I clearly remember the joy on his face. He helped turn and lift the baby out. I heard both Steve and doctor announce simultaneously, “It’s a girl.” Six pounds and two ounces of little baby girl. She was early but she was fine. All pink and perfect. Steve cut the umbilical cord and cradled her, gazing down at his newborn daughter. “Look, she’s our little Bindi.” She was named after a crocodile at the zoo, and it also fit that the word “bindi” was Aboriginal for “young girl.” Here was our own young girl, our little Bindi. I smiled up at Steve. “Bindi Sue,” I said, after his beloved dog, Sui. Steve gently handed her to me. We both looked down at her in utter amazement. He suddenly scooped her up in the towels and blankets and bolted off. “I’ve got a baby girl!” he yelled, as he headed down the hall. The doctor and midwives were still attending to me. After a while, one of the midwives said nervously, “So, is he coming back?” I just laughed. I knew what Steve was doing. He was showing off his beautiful baby girl to the whole maternity ward, even though each and every new parent had their own bundle of joy. Steve was such a proud parent.

Everyone shut up! I have an announcement to make.” Winter scoffs beside me, but everyone else quiets down. Except Rhett—leave it to him to make it into a fight. “This isn’t the military, bonehead. I don’t take orders from you.” Summer groans and gazes up at the ceiling. “Why are you like this?” “Should we take it outside like when we were kids, then?” I quirk a brow at my little brother. Shit disturber that he is. Rhett laughs. “No chance. You’ll kick my ass with your James Bond shit. I’m wild, not stupid.” Winter scoffs again, but just keeps drinking. I see Theo stifle a laugh behind his fist. “Take Cade with you,” Willa whispers as loudly as possible to Rhett from across the table while bouncing a baby on her lap. “A tag team situation. And I’ll watch. Or referee. Whatever you call it, I don’t care. It’s hot when he gets mad, so I’m all in on this idea.” “I’m on Uncle Beau’s team!” my nephew, Luke, announces. I point at him. “Smart, kid.” “At this rate, we’ll just be a bunch of skeletons sitting around the table by the time he makes his announcement,” Jasper says. “We’ll die never knowing what it is he meant to say because you all were planning a Royal Rumble in Bailey’s new house.” His eyes dance with amusement from across the table as he takes a swig of his shitty, cheap beer with a dog on the label. “I hate you.” Jasper grins at me, reaching to take Sloane’s hand. “Hate you too, bro.” “Listen, I’ll be the first of us to turn into a skeleton,” Harvey pitches in. “Out with it.

I think you should do it.” “Wait, really?” “Why not? Sabrina and I would love to share our wedding with you. And it opens so many other doors, y’know? Think about it. All your great achievements, we could share together. Like, when you and Allie get married? We’ll be right there with the announcement of our second child. And when you share Allie’s pregnancy? We’ll be there announcing our new house.” Logan chokes on his champagne mid-sip. I narrow my eyes. “Point taken.” “No, wait, it gets even better,” Tucker says enthusiastically. “When Allie gives birth to your first kid, guess who’ll be there! Me again, there to introduce you to our new dog, who I’ll name after your baby to honor you. And when your kid grows up, graduates college, gets engaged, and has a wedding of their own, I’ll be sitting there in the front row. Faking a heart attack.

After the miscarriage I was surrounded by dead-baby flowers, dead-baby books, and lots of boxes of dead-baby tea. I felt like I was drowning in a dead-baby sea. My mother didn’t know how to help but knew that I needed her. She sent me a soft bathrobe and a teapot, and I wept for hours on the phone with her. Mostly, she listened as I sorted through all my thoughts and feelings. If I’m angry or upset about something, or even if I’m happy about something, it isn’t real until I articulate it. I need a narrative. I guess that’s something Jeff and I share. We both need a story to fit into. The Burton ability to turn misfortune into narrative is something I’m grateful I was taught. It helps me think, Well, okay, that’s just a funny story. You should hear my father talking about his mother and those damn forsythia bushes. My sisters-in-law sent me lovely, heartfelt packages. Christina sent me teas and a journal and a letter I cherish. She included Cheryl Strayed’s book Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar. Christina is a mother. I felt like she understood the toll this sadness was taking on me, and she encouraged me to practice self-care. Jess gave me the book Reveal: A Secret Manual for Getting Spiritually Naked by Meggan Watterson and some other books about the divine feminine. She knew that there was nothing she could say, but everything she wanted to articulate was in those books. Jess has always had an almost psychic ability to understand my inner voice. She is quiet and attuned to what people are really saying rather than what they present to the world. I knew her book choices were deliberate, but I couldn’t read them for a while because they were dead-baby books. If people weren’t giving me dead baby gifts, they wanted to tell me dead-baby stories. There’s nothing more frustrating than someone saying, “Well, welcome to the club. I’ve had twelve miscarriages." It seemed like there was an unspoken competition between members of this fucked up sorority. I quickly realized this is a much bigger club than I knew and that everyone had stories and advice. And as much as I appreciated it, I had to find my own way. Tara gave me a book called Vessels: A Love Story, by Daniel Raeburn, about his and his wife’s experience of a number of miscarriages. His book helped because I couldn’t wrap my head around Jeff’s side of the story, and he certainly wasn’t telling it to me. He was out in the garage until dinnertime every day. He would come in, eat, help Gus shower, and then disappear for the rest of the night. I often read social media posts from couples announcing, “Hey we miscarried but it brought us closer together." I think it’s fair to say that miscarriage did not bring Jeffrey and me closer together. We were living in the same space but leading parallel lives. To be honest, most of the time we weren’t even living in the same space. That spring The Good Wife was canceled. We had banked on that being a job Jeff would do for a couple of years, one that would keep him in New York City. Then he landed Negan on The Walking Dead, and suddenly he would be all the way down in Georgia for the next three to five years. We were never going to have another child. It had been so hard to get pregnant. I felt like I was pulling teeth trying to coordinate dates when Jeff would be around and I’d be ovulating. It felt like every conversation was about having a baby. He’d ask, “What do you want for dinner?" I’d say, “A baby." “Hey, what do you want to do this weekend?" I’d say, “Have a baby.

She finished cleaning him off and then held her baby boy up high to behold this new wonder in his full glory. The brilliant glimmers dancing upon the restive sea as his halo and the winged legions to announce and to extol his arrival and the eternal tide rhythmically whispering of deeds long foreseen. The light and the song and the abiding heart. Creation in its purest form. It was to this divine ensemble that Isa lifted her voice to give name to the precious enigma that she knew would elevate the harmony of all things to realms transcendent.

IN DIRE STRAITS, WE HEAD STRAIGHT TO THE OCEAN The good Lord answered Beryl’s prayer when Dorjan came home next. On the cusp of the rainy season, when porch sitting Beryl was more inclined to watch tufts of moisture hung from invisible threads in fairytale skies than her playing children, he announced, “I have a will ‘ta move ‘ta the land of Hollywood and ‘burgeoning coastal developments,” like he’d read that phrase in a magazine. Then, he pressed on the horn in case she hadn’t heard his hollering. “I want a piece o’ that action, baby,” he said. “I can run my own company. ‘Reckon I know to do just about anything related to construction. Heya baby, why not?” He grinned as he rolled out of the driver’s seat. As she came down the steps to him, he smacked his thighs in a rhythm and did a fancy two-step. “The sun’s always shining. There’s bound to be work for me till I have no more need.” She went to hug him. “Lickety split, we’ll be going west… at the childr’n’s school break,” he said. That’s just what the Hudsons did. They left their free-of-charge huge, white house to the older brothers and sisters, taking brother Dennis along in the back seat with three of the children. Coalbert, sitting up front, sighed. “We’re just gonna leave the house like that? For someone other’n us to occupy, Daddy?” His heart was lying in that big white house with the wraparound porch. “Small thing. The place is tainted. It ‘taint yours and it ‘taint mine.” “I hope we get an indoor toilet, Mama!” Laila shouted. “Your daddy’s set on getting all the new things where we’re going to.

If you’re 25 and announce you want to start a new circus, the response is different: Be realistic; become a lawyer or an accountant or a doctor, have babies, and raise them to repeat the cycle.

It was a pretty great picnic, if I do say so myself. I’d helped Mrs. B prepare it, and I enjoyed listening to Karina and my father ooh and ah as I took out tiny cherry tomatoes stuffed with spicy cheese filling; avocado, spinach, and red onion sandwiches with walnut oil vinaigrette on seven grain bread; mozzarella sandwiches with roasted red peppers and pickled mushrooms on Italian bread; peanut butter and apple butter sandwiches on whole wheat bread; new potato salad with dill; and grapes and strawberries and kiwi fruit salad with poppy seed dressing. Plus granola bars for snacks. “And for dessert we have cheesecake with raspberry sauce,” I announced, taking the last bottle of sparkling water out of the cooler.

Tell me it’s not true!” she says, and I can hear tears in her voice. “Not just married--he has a little daughter and another baby on the way!” Catia announces. “È vero,”Leonardo says to us. “It’s true,” he translates. “His wife is--uh, in dolce attesa,” he adds, clearly not knowing how to say “pregnant” in English. Kelly’s ears prick up at learning something new. “‘In sweet waiting’?” she asks, translating it literally. “That’s actually a nice way to say pregnant--” “It’s not true!” Kendra screams, not having heard Leonardo’s confirmation. She throws herself at Luigi, grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt with both hands, trying to shake him, but Luigi is stocky and muscular, and he doesn’t move under her assault. This failure makes Kendra collapse onto his chest, still holding his shirt. “Tell me she’s lying,” she wails against his neck. “You seemed like the clever girl!” Catia says furiously to her. “The one who wouldn’t be stupid enough to be caught out by some man!” “Uh, thanks,” Kelly mutters. Paige snorts.

Dinnertime brought a big announcement from Mom and Dad. “How would you like to have a new baby brother or sister in six months?” I didn’t have to think twice. I got off my chair and started laughing and jumping up and down, dancing with my little sister, Linda, who didn’t understand, but it sure made me happy so that had to be a good thing. Janet Elise, (named for my Grandma whose name is Elisa), arrived on a cold day in February on the 25th, 1954. I had just turned six years old two days before Christmas and she was like a birthday present that arrived two months late. I was too young to remember Linda being born, so this was a brand new fantastic experience for a little girl who loved every one of her dolls and put them all to bed with great care every night.

Mallory's hand shot up. "As long as we're talking about Friday, Jessi told me to tell you that her new ballet class meets Fridays at 5:15." "Every Friday?" I asked. "Is that the only class she can take?" Mallory nodded. "It's level three, only one class per week. Jesse begged Mme Noelle to change the time. A few other kids didn't like it, either." "We could have our meetings at the dance studio," Abby suggested. "And feed the ballerinas junk food," Claudia added. "Welcome to Swine Lake," Abby said in an announcer's voice.

Why not? Sabrina and I would love to share our wedding with you. And it opens so many other doors, y’know? Think about it. All your great achievements, we could share together. Like, when you and Allie get married? We’ll be right there with the announcement of our second child. And when you share Allie’s pregnancy? We’ll be there announcing our new house.” Logan chokes on his champagne mid-sip. I narrow my eyes. “Point taken.” “No, wait, it gets even better,” Tucker says enthusiastically. “When Allie gives birth to your first kid, guess who’ll be there! Me again, there to introduce you to our new dog, who I’ll name after your baby to honor you. And when your kid grows up, graduates college, gets engaged, and has a wedding of their own, I’ll be sitting there in the front row. Faking a heart attack.

Trademarked as Heroin, it entered the market and began its own campaign. “Heroin is a fine business,” the directors of Bayer announced proudly and advertised the substance as a remedy for headaches, for general indisposition, and also as a cough syrup for children. It was even recommended to babies for colic or sleeping problems.4 Business wasn’t just booming for Bayer. In the last third of the nineteenth century several new pharmaceutical hotspots developed along the Rhine. Unlike other, more traditional industries, the chemical industry didn’t require as much in terms of overhead to get business going, only needing relatively little equipment and raw material. Even small operations promised high profit margins.