childless

‘My miscarriage crushed me. I screamed and cried in the nursery closet, clenching my son’s wubby so hard my palms bled. I was inconsolable.’

“Now you’re left exhausted, thinking what the hell did we just do? Am I an imposter because I failed? I flipped my mindset. It felt good to dive into something again, which started with ripping up all the carpet in the upstairs of our house. There was no sense in avoiding a room meant for a nursery when I could change it into a usable space.”

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