She looks away when she sees baby bumps- they remind her of what she has lost and what her body can’t do.
She stopped going to baby showers- the last one she went to she had to leave early to make sure nobody saw her tears.
She prays to her angel babies daily- they were real and always will be.
She “yell cried” at her boss while on Chlomid- fertility meds turned her into a crazy person.
Her stomach is swelled and bruised- the shots are unforgiving.
She doesn’t know how she’ll afford this- IVF is like buying a new car, and what if it doesn’t work?
She started baking as an outlet- she needed something to work through the grief.
She’s had two corrective surgeries- why is her body so broken?
She gives herself a shot everyday in addition to all the other meds- all of this because her body can’t do “this” on its own.
Unplanned pregnancies make her bitter- she would do anything, anything to be holding a baby of her own.
She walks into the clinic for her first IVF transfer- “Dear Lord, please, please have this work. I beg you.”
and then she waits………...
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