Dear Scarlett, It’s been four years since I was wheeled down the hallway under obnoxious fluorescent lighting by the insensitive surgeon and the nurse with kind eyes. I was thankful
Spoiler alert: I’m having a book baby, not a Booker baby. Those two little letters—“er”—make a big difference! And this story I’m about to tell? It’s about (and for) YOU.
Today’s post is a little bit heart-breaking. It’s written by a friend of mine who wishes to remain anonymous. She and her husband have struggled with infertility for too long.