Did You Know You Can Be “Kind-Of Pregnant?”

In some cruel twist of fate, someone takes down the wind chime. Months pass, and I’m in shock at the devastation I feel. People tell me over and over how common it is. It does not feel common. It feels primal, I feel broken. I stop feeling hope. There is only silence.

I sign up for therapy. I burn a piece of paper with a secret note to myself to try to let go, I throw the ashes into the river. I look at the water and wonder if it’s sick of watching me cry. I know I am.

Six months pass, we take a cross-country trip. We see old friends, it is refreshing, I buy a bright yellow coat. Life starts to move forward. We decide to try yet again. We have two embryos left.

When they “transfer” the embryo into you they first show you a giant projection of it in a petri dish with your name labeled on it to confirm it’s the right one. I know, it’s weird. Something feels different this time when I look up at it. I try not to let the feeling turn into hope. I know where that leads.