Daily creative writing prompt - day 1

Broke up with Stuart in Feb, might write about it someday but probably not. Here to do a daily creative writing blog now. Using http://creativewritingprompts.com/# and randomly generating a number.
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 #45 "In 200 words, what does this metaphore make you think of; 'A garnish of Joy'."
Idea: Woman named Joy making lemonade, talking with someone, cuts her finger, blood drips in glass 'garnish of Joy.' Miscarriage
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    "So, have the two of you decided on a name?"
    Arthritic hands steadily rolled spoon, knife and fork in a cloth napkin and set it to her right. A slow burst of heat from the open oven caused beads of sweat to slowly gather on both their brows. Joy pulled out a tray of lemon squares and set them on the counter with a deep sigh, removed the oven mits, returning them to the drawer, then allowing the hair on her arm to soak up the sweat as she drug her wrist against her forehead. 
    "Mother, we don't even know if I can get pregnant. Why pick out a name for something that may not even exist?" She leaned back against the counter and looked out the window. 
    "Sweetheart," her mother said with a smile on her face and in her voice, "you must learn to think more positively." 
    Outside was a gathering of family enjoying a Summer afternoon, with adults chatting and children running. None of the children came by way of Joy's loins and she watched them play and laugh, longingly. 
    "But you are trying, aren't you?" 
    Joy ripped her gaze from the window and aimed a glare at her mother. 
     "Why are you so set on this!? What is so important about me having a baby anyway? You have grandkids playing in the backyard, why don't you cherish your time with them?" 
    She turned back to the counter, seeking something to occupy her hands and calm her nerves. She grabbed a knife, cutting board and lemon. 
    "I'm making more lemonade. Bring the pitcher from the table, please." 
    Her mother raised herself up slowly, eyes full of hurt for being yelled at. She grasped the pitcher handle with one hand and moved to place the other under to support it, but the large pitcher had slipped through her fingers before she could and it shattered on the ground near her feet. 
    Joy had just plunged the knife into the lemon with extra force from her emotional outburst when the shattered glass caused her nerves to waiver, her thumb slipped under the knife, or the knife jumped towards her thumb. 
    The red looked more brilliant alongside the yellow fruit and the sting was more pronounced due to the citrus. The startled gasp that started in her throat when the glass shattered had manifested to a scream at this point. 
    "Shit!" She dropped the knife on the cutting board, splashing blood and juice further across the cutting board. Joy moved quickly to the sink, red droplets leaving a trail. She turned on the water, shoved her injured member under the stream and looked back at her mother. 
    "Are you alright?" she asked in a panicked voice. Her mother's eyes fell upon the shards of glass. 
    "Mother, are you okay? Did you cut yourself?" 
    The shattered glass seemed to recieve the appology; "I'm sorry." 
    Frustrated, Joy grabbed a kitchen cloth, wrapped it around her thumb and went to her mother's side. 
    "Mom, it's fine. Just a little mess." Joy grabbed her mother's hands to be sure there were no cuts on it. 
    "I'm sorry I keep pushing," her mother said. "I just know you want a child, I want you to be happy." 
    Joy sighed and held her mother's hands fully. 
    "Mom... we have been trying. More than you think. I don't know if I want to try anymore." 
    Her mother's wet gaze met with Joy's. "I don't understand." 
    "I know," Joy said. "I haven't told you. Tom and I felt it wasn't right to burden the rest of the family." Her eyes began to water. 
    "Miscarriage. That's all we get." The kitchen rag wrapped around Joy's thumb no longer matched the rest of the yellow set. It was now mostly red. 
    One less kitchen rag, one less lemonade pitcher and no more grandchildren.


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I realize it's probably over 200 words, it doesn't even use the 'garnish of Joy' phrase NOR does it even use the imagery of the blood dripping into the glass of lemonade, but this is my first one. You get what you get and I had to get something out of me.
I've realized I've forgotten how to organize paragraphs in a story, and I realize this story sucks. Starting point is better when it sucks, I have much room for improvement.