*Shelby*

We sat in the stuffy, antiseptic-smelling clinic waiting room, hands clasped tightly together. I refused to look at those pictures on the walls, the ones of happy mothers holding smiling babies.

Beside me, Michael's face was a harsh shade of red, and I could hear his teeth grinding as he stewed over the ultrasound results. I couldn’t blame him. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what had happened. How could any of this ever have transpired?

We were ...