The most amazing, comforting gift I have received is a soft knitted baby sweater with all wrong proportions.  Once upon a time, long ago, I found myself pregnant. I had 9 weeks to enjoy this, to feel the life within. I dreamed of a girl and promptly named her Lucy. Then I miscarried.

        About a year later, I was telling my best friend that one of the hardest things about the whole experience was that, at only 9 weeks, I didn’t look different, so my dream daughter wasn’t real to anyone but me.  I didn’t even have a blanket to hold to remember her. I had nothing tangible. My friend cleared his throat, and explained that he’d started knitting a baby sweater for me, but then I’d miscarried, and he finished it anyway but didn’t want to just get rid of it, and he was afraid to give it to me and make me sad.  Instead, I have a beautiful sweater that belonged to my dream daughter, knitted by my best friend. It’s the most amazingly kind and loving gift I have ever received.