[ WP ] A woman finds the tree of life , but not in time to save the one she loves .

`` What have you decided to name him?'' Julie asked with excitement. 
 
 `` Well, Marc and I have been trying to figure it out, we want something that is tied to both of our families histories. We're both from England historically, so we think some of our great grandparents have got to have similar names, right? So if we find a name that both of our family's share, we are going to name him that.'' 
 
 I felt I should have apologized for rambling, but I was pregnant and got away with more than that, so it seemed unnecessary. Julie smiled at my words, I guess she liked my idea, or at least liked how excited I was about it. 
 
 `` You know its getting down to the wire here, you might want to speed up the process on that research…'' Julie's voice showed excitement, but now her eyes revealed worry. 
 
 There was a lot to be worried about. Or rather, just one thing. Here I was, six and a quarter months pregnant, in the hospital. The baby was due, and due too soon. 
 
 Marc was given statistics and percentages, I denied them. Based on the faces and feelings of my friends and Marc, the numbers seemed to be negative. I suppose thats why Marc is n't putting any effort into finding out our baby's name. Lazy bastard. Some days I feel connected to my baby like leaf to a stalk, today I feel its a separate entity. Maybe my baby will die. 
 
 `` Julie would you mind giving me some alone time for a second?'' 
 
 `` No problem, hun.'' 
 
 I watched the blips and screens of the hospital room repeat and change. The heart rate lines came at an easy pace. I felt tired and closed my eyes. 
 
 - - - - - - 
 
 I'm in the hospital still. I open my eyes to find my husband, Marc, standing over me, a sad smile on his face. He hands me an old book with leather bound covers. I open it to the first page. A great tree spans it, the tree has fallen over and goes page by page through Marc's family history and finally stops at his name and mine. Then a new tree begins, my tree. It goes on into the next pages, reaching into my past and history, discovering forgotten heroes and passionate women. I turn back to Marc and I, a blank circle is above our names, sprouting out of the split tree of Marc's and mine. I point to the empty circle and look up at Marc. 
 
 He shakes his head, takes the book away, and begins to cry.
