He broke up with me the week before Christmas. I spent the next week holed up in bed, eating éclairs and watching Grey’s Anatomy. If I had been in a better state, I might have noticed I had missed my period.
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My first miscarriage would rip the rug out from under me, alienating me from my own body, and startling me with a grief I never imagined possible The second robbed me of my faith in God’s hand on the universe.
