I hated who I had become: the person people didn’t want to tell they were pregnant.
FaceTime rang on my phone declaring that my sister (in-law) was calling. She is one of my very best friends. Not knowing why nervousness ensued, my sweaty palm answered the call. We chatted a bit and I watched her 16-month daughter do what she does best: be wild. She has short dark thin hair, deep brown eyes, a smile to steal anyone's soul. A fearless sort of girl.
My sister mentioned a doctor visit and a weight of coal dropped in my stomach. I hated the weight of coal more than I hated my possible-infertility -- it resembled the confusing emotions that made up the mess that was me, it reminded me I was not handling this journey well. She responded with a “no” when I did my best to enthusiastically and uncomplicatedly ask her if she had any exciting news.