Her Name is Annabelle…

At thirteen weeks, she was gone. They termed it a miscarriage but I called it murder….

Photo Credit: Comfreak at Pixabay.com

When I think of her, I imagine her calmly floating in an orb of electric-blue goo. Arms folded across her chest, eyes closed, forever sleeping in a world of her own with nothing more than a beating heart to lull her to sleep every night. She never grew any larger than the size of a…