My wife had lost the baby.
We were pretty far along at the time. The doctors were calling it a freak accident.
I was devastated, almost psychotic.
My wife was having a hard time adjusting too. I tried everything- therapy, the hard truth- nothing worked. I found a baby doll for her to care for.
She cuddled that baby doll like it was her own. She swaddled it, bathed it...even pretended to breast feed it. I was worried that this was going too far.
I tried to take the fake baby away one night, but she screamed and howled at me, nearly scratching my eyes out. It nearly broke my heart.
"Don't touch my baby!" she spat, holding the bundle closer to her body.
I was going to have to do something drastic.
While she was sleeping, I snuck into the "baby's" room and stole the doll. I couldn't just throw it away (she'd find it), so I threw it in the fireplace.
It burned quickly, the fire licking over the dolls clothes. From upstairs, I heard my wife scream "Where's my baby?" I looked back down to the fireplace.
Sitting atop the embers, I could see a tiny skeleton engulfed in flames.