His voice was calm, but I remember only one sentence.
Jake probably had no more than three months left.
I stared at my husband, unable to understand how such an ordinary day could suddenly become the worst day of our lives.
That evening, we sat together on our porch.
Jake rested his hand on my belly.
Lily moved at that exact moment.
“If it’s possible, I want to donate my organs,” he said.
I immediately turned toward him.
“Please don’t talk about dying while your daughter is kicking you right now.”
Jake gave me a sad smile.
“That’s exactly why I need to talk about it. If I’m not going to be here to watch her grow up, then at least I want someone else to have a little more time with their family because of me.”
Over the next few weeks, he became weaker much faster than we expected.
