It doesn’t hurt like a fresh wound. It’s bothersome like a scab. It was a fresh wound on Monday. It was real. And I cried. But now it’s more like a scab. It gets brushed. Like when I slid into bed last Wednesday night and remembered how I had rested...
Irony: an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected. Coincidence: a striking occurrence of two or more events at one time apparently by mere chance. Providence: God, esp. when conceived as omnisciently directing the universe and the affairs...
Not on Wednesday, when I knew something was going wrong. Not on Thursday, my day in waiting. Not on Friday, when the blood tests showed the future. A bit on Saturday, the contractions hurt so badly. Not on Sunday, the day after it was over. I cried on Monday. Alone in...
I held out hope when the bleeding started. I reassured myself when I made the appointment. I smiled comfortably while I wrapped the sheet around me and climbed up on the table. But when the small talk faded into silence, I knew. There was no labeling of baby parts....
