The priest’s hands shake nervously as he says the blessing and places the drops of water on my son.

Abram is strong and begins to pull at Georgina’s dress, wanting her breast. My angel coos to him, pulling the material down and offering her nipple to his mouth.

The priest’s eyes snap up to lock on mine, and I hold his gaze. He continues with the blessing, not looking at my wife as she nurtures my son.

“You will bless her womb again,” I demand.

He prayed over her at Roman’s ...