He knew a C-section without anesthesia would be pure hell, but waiting any longer meant death.

When the scalpel came down again, I started whimpering. The pain made me try to get up, but they held me down tight.

In my haze, I thought I saw Chase Chen standing there with worried eyes.

My heart felt like it was breaking. I wanted to scream at him, ask him why he'd do this to me. But when my tears fell, there was nothing there.

He never came.

By then, I was completely drained, but everyone could hear me whisper "Chase Chen" clear as day.

Through the fog, someone squeezed my hand: "Hang in there, we're almost done."

I don't know how long I was in that nightmare. I just remember feeling empty inside when they cut that final connection between me and my baby.

But it was dead quiet. No baby crying.

They tried to take him away quick so I wouldn't get upset, but I opened my eyes: "Let me... see him."

I'd heard them say it was a boy.

They saw my red eyes and reluctantly brought over my cleaned-up baby: "Try not to take it too hard..."

I didn't say a word. Just looked at him quietly. So tiny, but looking just like Chase Chen.

Two more months. Just two more months and he would've been born healthy. He should've lived.

But his dad chose to let him go.

All those years I spent trying to save Chase Chen - what a joke it all seemed now.

Regret hit me like a truck, tears rolling down my face like there was no tomorrow. If I'd known this was coming, I should've just let Chase Chen face his own damn fate.

Getting stitched up hurt even worse than being cut open.

I wanted just one more look at my baby, wanted to touch him just once, but everything went black.

When I came to, everything was a blur. All I could hear was the drip-drip-drip of the IV above me.

Coming back to my senses, my fingers curled, automatically reaching for my baby bump. But there was nothing - just flat emptiness.

Only the stabbing pain reminded me that my little one - the one who'd been kicking me for eight months - was gone.